Page 95 of A Perfect Match
I’m so tired of being the last one to know.The last one anyone thinks can take care of something or understand.“Yeah.I probably can’t handle it, huh?”
Kru shoots me a dark look.“That’s not what I said.”
The tears are coming fast now.I need to get out of here and inside, where I can unravel completely.
“Hope Brady was okay without you,” I say quickly, pushing open the door.“I’ll see you later, Kru.”
I slam the truck door shut and race inside before he can respond.
And in my head all I can hear are my brothers sayingI told you so.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
KRU
It's been three days since the Keegan brother gauntlet, and I haven't seen Piper once.
Not that I haven't tried.I've made excuses to check the shared storage room at least a dozen times, hoping to catch her coming or going.I've lingered by the front windows of my restaurant during her busy morning rush, telling myself I'm just observing foot traffic patterns.I even walked past Cloud Nine on my way to the bank yesterday, but Jerrica was working the counter and Piper was nowhere to be seen.I’m ready to make a surprise visit to Griffin’s house, or even her Mom’s house, but I think that might earn me another black eye if I try.
Still worth it to figure out what the hell is going on with Piper.
The barn has been dark every night.No late-night renovation sessions, no industrial work lights casting shadows across the parking lot.Either she's taking a break from the project, or she's avoiding the one place she knows I might look for her.
I'm betting on the latter.
"Chef, table six is asking about wine pairings for the lobster special," Jackie says, pulling me out of my brooding.
"Tell them the Chardonnay," I say absently, plating another order."The one from Oregon."
"Already did.They want something different."
I look up from the plate I'm working on, realizing I've been on autopilot for the past hour.The lunch service has been steady but not overwhelming, which means I have too much time to think.Too much time to replay Wednesday night over and over in my head.
The way Piper's face shuttered when I mentioned Columbus.The hurt in her voice when she asked if my plan was to leave Bayshore.The careful distance that had blossomed between us, polite but rooted.
I fucked up.I knew it the moment the words left my mouth, but I'd been so focused on not making things worse with her brothers that I'd made things worse with her instead.
"The Sauvignon Blanc then," I tell Jackie."The one with the citrus notes."
She nods and heads back to the dining room.I finish plating the order and slide it toward Rafael, then check my phone for the hundredth time today.No messages from Piper.
I texted her Thursday morning, a simpleHope you're doing okay, but got no response.Friday I tried calling, but it went straight to voicemail.By now, I've gotten the message loud and clear: she needs space.
The problem is, I don't know if that space is temporary or permanent.
"Order up," I call, sliding two more plates toward Rafael.
Jackie appears at my elbow."Hey, chef?That investor guy is here again.Table twelve."
I glance through the kitchen doors toward the dining room.Sure enough, Tyler Webb is sitting at table twelve, the same table he'd occupied last week when he'd first approached me about Columbus.Tall, silver-haired, expensive suit that screams success.
"He's not supposed to meet with me until Tuesday," I mutter.
"He said he was just grabbing lunch."Jackie shrugs."But it seems like he wants to talk."
I wipe my hands on my apron, considering how this conversation might go.Part of me wants to ignore him, to focus on the lunch service and pretend Columbus doesn't exist.But another part—the practical, business-minded part—knows I should at least hear what he has to say.The truth is that I feel like I have my hands full right now.I’m happy with what’s happening in Bayshore.But maybe I need to be more aggressive while I’m young.
Maybe I need to leave my comfort zone.
