Page 51 of You Chive Me Crazy
“Why don’t you ask her what she was doing with me?” I said.
“I’m asking you,” Damian said, all but beating his chest like a gorilla.
“If you must know, she invited me to coffee when she saw me coming out of the supermarket. It was completely innocent.”
“Innocent?” He scowled at me. “You could have said no.”
“I’m staying here with Zoe. Are you really afraid I want to get back together with Savannah?”
Damian cracked his knuckles. “I don’t trust you.”
Unimpressed by his macho stance, I rolled my eyes. “Well, I don’t trust the paint not peeling when it gets a whiff of your breath. Seriously. Do something about that. Maybe floss or something.” I gestured to the door. “Can I go now?”
He shook his head in disgust, eyeing me like he wanted to tear the skin off my face. “Karma’s a bitch. You’ll find out soon enough.”
I smirked. “Or perhaps it’s you who will make that discovery.”
Damian clenched his fists, his teeth, and judging by the constipated look on his face, most likely his butt cheeks as well.
Lucky me, I got to see his trifecta of terror.
Not that I was a gambling man, but I would’ve bet there was a fifty-fifty chance of him trying to take a swing at me. I didn’t have a violent bone in my body, had never been in a fight in my entire life, but that didn’t include my reaction to stupid people doing stupid things—I had no tolerance for purposeful idiocy, and Damian was a prime example.
Rolando had taught me more than a few self-defense moves if I ever got into a sticky situation with a hothead like Damian. Not that I wanted something to happen. I would be the better person and walk away.
Damian blocked my path again, like an idiot.
Savannah came outside and immediately punched him in the arm. “I’m sick and tired of your caveman attitude. I heard what you said from inside, and you do not make the rules for me. And you and I are not dating. Do I make myself clear?”
“This is between me and Lucas,” Damian said.
A very familiar sound on Lakeview Drive pulled me away from our conversation. The sound commanded attention, announced its presence with authority, and demanded respect.
The 1969 Plymouth Barracuda.
I knew it well because my best friend owned one.
Which made me jerk my head back when I saw it was actually him.
Rolando was in Big Bear Lake.
He pulled into the parking lot of the Serendipity Inn, the low growl of his engine reverberating through the air like a thunderstorm rolling in.
“What the . . .” I shook my head in disbelief, trying to put the pieces of the puzzle together since I had just gotten off the phone with him. I had never been so happy to see my best friend, and yet I had so many questions.
Damian didn’t look as pleased. “Is that freaking Rolando?”
“You betcha,” I said, grinning with delight, making sure the tone of my voice had plenty of snark. “And he’s going to besohappy to see you.”
It wasn’t a surprise Damian had recognized him.
Rolando and I had attended countless industry events together, and he was the first person I’d thanked after I had won the Craig Claiborne Distinguished Restaurant Review Award. Rolando was all over my social media since we did practically everything together. It was more than a pleasant surprise that Damian looked irritated to see him.
Rolando had the convertible top down and was singing along to “Eye of the Tiger” that was playing on his sound system. He revved the engine a few times, the muscle car roaring like a caged beast, waiting to be unleashed.
“Surprise!” He killed the ignition and got out of the car with so much positive energy, he practically bounced his way to the porch.
“What areyoudoing here?” Damian asked. “Shouldn’t you be out looking for a job?”
