Page 35 of Prince Charmless
My heart pangs. I’m just another one of Taylor’s roadblocks in the bureaucratic nightmare that is starting a nonprofit.
“Did he not offer to pay you?” he asks.
“Oh, he did. But I refused. Long story.” I’ll change the subject to avoid going down memory lane. “Has he always been a good cook?”
“Taylor cooks when he’s stressed out,” Thomas explains. “Which is a lot of the time. I think it helps him to do things with his hands. Sometimes, if it’s a frustrating day, he’ll leave out a three-layered chocolate cake for the house staff. We call it his stress cooking.”
That is a weirdly adorable coping mechanism. I just have a cozy glass of wine when I’m stressed, not a full-on hobby. I used to paint, but not so much anymore.
“So there’s nothing between you guys? You’re just friends? That’s boring.”
“We’re not even friends. We’re strictly business.” Though I know much more about Taylor personally than I do my other business partners. The universe may be shifting our relationship to ‘reluctant acquaintances’.
“Yeah, that would be hard to believe.” He scoffs. “He’ll swear he’s not into friends, but he just says that so no one will feel bad that he doesn’t have any.”
I roll my eyes. “I don’t feel bad for him.”
“I do. Taylor hates being schmoozy, and he’s stuck in a dead-end job where he has to schmooze for the rest of his life.” He takes down a bottle of sparkly gray nail polish. “I think I like this one. What about you?”
“He doesn’t want to be king?”
“Christ, no,” he says, waving my mom over. “Neither do I.”
Huh. I may have been wrong about the man making my dinners. I thought Taylor was the type of person who strives to hold as much power over people as possible. If he doesn’t want to be king, then what are his ambitions? I figured this charity was just a way for him to kill time. If I knew my destiny was going to be a job I didn’t want, I would try to get as much done as I could before filling the position. Fuck. AmIthe asshole?
“Is Melina helping you pick out colors?” Mom interrupts.
“I can get more than one?” Thomas scans the wall again and grabs a bright red bottle. “I should do this one too, so I’ll match my car.”
I laugh. “You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to. You just being here is publicity enough.”
“It’s just paint. It’s not like it hurts.” He looks around. “It doesn’t hurt, right?”
I can’t tell if he’s being serious.
Mom shoos me out of the chair and takes the bottles from his hand. “I think sparkles are very manly.”
Thomas leans over to me. “If he ever tries to bully you again, let me know. He can take it as good as he can dish it.” His voice is low and serious as my mom files his nails.
I think I can handle Taylor myself, but it’s nice to know his brother is on team Melina.
This must be a good photo-op, as I’m quickly swallowed up by the crowd. Before he leaves, Thomas finds me and wiggles his hot rod red and sparkly gray fingers in my face. “What do you think?” he asks.
“You and Taylor can’t be related.”
12
Taylor
Thomas:I didn’t say anything to her. We didn’t even talk for that long.
Thomas:nail polish is a chick magnet btw. Who knew?
I don’t understand Melina. I apologize. I beg. I offer to pay triple her rate. I cook dinner for her twice. Now, after Tom merely talks to Melina, she’s suddenly back on the project. This isn’t the ending I wanted. I was supposed to convince her, not my moronic brother. That wasn’t the plan.
Julien texted me the great news right as I got off the jet. The only reason I’d gone home first was to grab her stupid apartment keys. I didn’t bother using my driver. Instead, I took my own damn car and drove to her place myself.
Maybe it’s not the best idea to pay her a visit in this state of mind. It’s how we started fighting in the first place, but I don’t care. I’m here now, and I’m done sucking up.
