Page 39 of Silent Partner (Pine Falls 3)

“I don’t crush on him,” I said indignantly.

“Ahh, but you knew who I was talking about.”

Crap. He got me there. I cleared my throat. “Anyway. I can’t say anything else.”

“Fine, boss lady, be that way. Just know, my life is in your pretty little hands.”

I sighed loudly. “I know. But you get job offers all the time. You would be fine.” I tried to assuage my guilt.

“True, but you’re the best boss I’ve ever had, and you make me a better chef.” He sounded so sincere that my eyes stung with tears.

“Jai, I love you.”

“Now you’re sexually harassing me?” he teased. “I love you too,” he added. “I know you’ll do what’s right.”

I was glad someone knew that. I didn’t know what was right. “Thank you.”

“I better go. My girl, Priyanka, and I have a date.” That meant he was going to watch Isn’t It Romantic for the hundredth time. It was about a woman stuck in a romantic comedy. You would think that would be great, but it wasn’t all that it was cracked up to be. I knew the feeling. My life was kind of like that movie. I had all these beautiful men around me, but nothing could go right. Now I was sleeping with my cat.

“Drool a little bit over Liam Hemsworth for me,” I joked.

“For you, I’ll spare a drop of saliva.”

“Thanks. You’re the best.”

“You are too. Don’t forget that.”

I sure didn’t feel like the best. “Good night, Jai.”

“Good night, boss lady.”

I hung up and stared some more at all the papers spread out across my bed, as if it would help me decide. One thing I knew: Brant was right. Giselle and Carter would take the offer if I took Brant up on his more than generous deal. It was just like him. My eyes drifted toward the book. It brought back a flood of memories of our runs together. How many times had I touted the merits of that book? Brant had never made fun of me for it. He had only ever been curious about it.

I let my hair out of its messy bun, trying so hard to not wish the book meant something to Brant. That I meant something to him. I watched Oscar sleep peacefully. I was jealous of him. And I needed him to wake up and slash my jugular. Brant and I were only friends, as he’d said. I wasn’t even sure we were that. Besides, he was acting strange. Maybe Grandpa was right and he was in some kind of trouble. Though wouldn’t it be all over the news if he were? The Hollands could hardly blow their noses without it making headlines. Even Dani was subject to a lot of press now, especially given her foundation’s mission. And what was this big case he was involved in and the loose ends he’d spoken of?

Ugh. I shouldn’t care. The fact that I did said I shouldn’t go into business with him. Even if he was going to be a silent partner. There would be nothing quiet about it. My heart would constantly be screaming at me, wondering where I stood with him. Just like it had been for a long time. Except during the brief reprieve I’d had when I was with Tristan. I wasn’t saying I’d never thought about Brant while I was with Tristan—I had. It had just been easier not to dwell on him.

Perhaps I was dwelling on him now because Tristan had just broken up with me and I was an emotional wreck with everything else that was going on. I needed to talk to my sisters, except I knew that Dani would freak out over me just mentioning Brant. Which was starting to worry me. I didn’t want Brant to be sick, but that at least made sense of their behavior. Now I was as confused as ever.

To add to the confusion, my phone buzzed with a text. At first I figured it was Jai texting me a screenshot of Liam Hemsworth, but no insanely hot Aussie filled my screen. Instead, an attractive Brit’s name flashed before my eyes. What did he want?

Against my better judgment, I opened my texting app.

Love, I know it’s late for you and you’re probably sleeping, but I can’t stop thinking about you. I am an arse.

He had that part right.

I think we should talk. I miss you.

This was so not happening. I rolled my eyes and tossed my phone onto the bed, too angry to cry about it. What was wrong with him? He was treating me like a yo-yo. Letting me drop and then tugging on the string to see if I would come back. The answer was no. I was tired of being played with.

I grabbed my phone and texted back, There’s nothing to talk about. You made your choice.

---