Page 31 of Walk on the Wilde Side
"You're the best, Nev," Rio says. She's wearing bright red lipstick and fake pink nails. She is most definitely into girlie stuff, which is ironic considering the Wilde family is all boys. Indi was a much needed and, no doubt, appreciated addition to Rio's family circle.
Rio lifts her phone. "Look, I caught a picture of Ronan sleeping on Dad's couch. His hair is standing straight up." Ronan is in what appears to be a drunken stupor on Jameson's couch. He's in jeans but shirtless and shoeless, and his mouth is hanging just slack enough to make even handsome Ronan look funny.
"Have you shown him this photo?" I ask.
Rio smiles and tucks away her phone for now. "Nope, I'm gonna use it for occasional blackmail. Maybe an ice cream or a new bottle of nail polish. Haven't decided which yet."
"Why not both?" I suggest.
"I like the way you think, my friend," Rio says. Something catches her eye outside the shop. "Oh wow, look who's coming in," she says excitedly.
"Is it Dylan?" Her friend Olivia asks. Both friends hop up from their seats to stare out the window.
Rio clears her throat loudly. "First of all, if it was Dylan, were you both seriously going to stand there and gawk at him as he walks in?" Rio rolls her eyes my direction. "Dylan doesn't need his head blown up any bigger than it is." Rio holds her hands out near her head to model just how big Dylan's head is. Metaphorically, I assume.
The door opens, and Zander walks inside. The teen-filled room quiets down as if the principal just stepped into the cafeteria. He has that kind of presence. Not the principal kind though. More like the rock star kind. Zander glances around at the curious faces and smiles at me.
"Was it something I said?" he asks. "Hey, Squirt, you gonna ride this afternoon?"
"Only if you stop calling me Squirt. Especially in front of my friends," Rio hisses through clenched teeth.
"Oops, my bad." Zander winks at her two friends, which judging by their follow-up blushes and giggles is more than enough to make up for calling her Squirt.
"What can I get you?" Mona calls enthusiastically from behind the counter. She's wearing what I call her sparkly, selfie smile.
Zander winks my direction next and seems disappointed he doesn't get the same blushing, giggling response. He walks to the counter to order his sandwich from someone who does give him that blush and giggle.
I return to the kitchen area to cut more slices of bread. I wasn't prepared for the onslaught of hungry teens, so I didn't cut enough this morning. I'm busy with the bread when I hear the front door bell. "More kids," I say to myself and grab another loaf of sourdough.
Mona hangs her head around the door. "You have a visitor." She says it teasingly and with a smile.
I put the bread down, wipe my hands on my apron and walk out to the front of the shop. Suddenly, my small shop front seems positively miniature. Dane is standing just a few feet away from Zander. He's holding a massive bouquet of red roses. He buys flowers a lot. I've tried to show him—with my lack of enthusiasm for the bouquets and my constant sneezing—that I'm not really the flower type, but, like with many things, he hasn't gotten the message.
Both men are trying to be civil with their head nods, but I've seen more civility in a cage of chimpanzees.
Dane's smile splashes across his face. "There's my beautiful lady." He shoves the roses at me, and I sneeze three times. "Happy anniversary," he says in a sing-song tone.
"Anniversary?" I ask and sneeze again. Sneezes and runny noses aren't a good look for a sandwich maker.
"We've been together for two months."
I can see Zander over Dane's shoulder. He's holding back a grin.
I sneeze again. "Can we keep these at your place?" I ask. "They are a little too strong for my allergies."
When Dane's disappointed he gets a twitch in his cheek. I've seen it often after one of his stressful, ill-timed phone calls. I assume those calls have to do with work, the development that Zander and Jameson are working on, so I don't ask about them because I truly don't have much interest in his business. Just like he has little interest in my business other than being irritated that it takes so much of my time.
Dane takes the flowers back, and I smile apologetically. Rio and her friends are watching the whole scene as if they're watching a riveting show on Netflix.
"That's right, Nevvie," Zander says. Ever since Dane pointed out to Zander that I don't like to be called Nevvie, he's been using the nickname in front of him any chance he gets. "You're allergic to flowers, aren't you? Except lavender," he adds, mostly for me. The gaze he tosses my way assures me he still remembers giving me some handpicked lavender after Nana's funeral. He knew they were the only kind of flowers I could tolerate in a bouquet.
"Isn't your lunch break over soon?" Dane snaps in Zander's direction.
Zander takes his time pulling out his phone and looking at the time. He pushes the phone back into his pocket. "Nope."
Rio giggles behind him. She's not only figured out the Wilde humor, but she's got the same dry wit as the rest of them. It seems to be a genetic trait.
Dane turns back to me. "Remember, dinner tonight at my place. I'll open a bottle of wine, and we'll see where it goes." He says the last part loudly to make sure Zander hears. He's so involved with trying to piss off Zander, he doesn't notice that he angers me.
