Page 50 of The Trouble with Flings

“That’s the equivalent of extra credit, dear brother,” Keira says. “You’re definitely losing your mind.”

The table dissolves into laughter again.

My mother waits for it to settle and says, “Well, honey, you have always shown excellent judgment, which tells me she must be very special to be worth this level of patience.”

“She is,” I say.

Grant is studying me. He knows what it’s like to have to fight for something. He’s spent his whole life doing it in one fashion or another.

“What if she never comes around?” Bellamy asks more gently.

“That’s not going to happen,” I say, hoping it’s true.

“It’s been a month and a half,” Keira points out.

My father arches a brow, as if she’s got a good point.

Holding his gaze, I say, “Some things don’t fit into conventional ideals, but that doesn’t mean they aren’t worth the effort.”

“Ugh.” Bellamy slumps back in her chair. “He’s even noble about being delusional.”

Chapter Thirteen

Jennifer

The elevator doors close, and I take a deep breath, grateful for the brief reprieve from the cold and the noise and the relentless forward motion of a Friday that started too early and hasn’t let up since. I’m pretty sure I’m coming down with whatever bug has been making its way through the school for the past two weeks. Or maybe I’m just bone tired because I’ve been on my feet since six thirty, spent half the day mediating a situation between three junior girls that required the kind of careful diplomacy usually reserved for international summits and the other half fielding seventeen other issues.

I’m meeting Mia at her office to go through their new spring line to see if I can find a dress for the grand opening of Jared’s restaurant. That’s one of the perks of having a sister who works for elite fashion designers.

The elevator doors open into the reception area of JRB Designs. I tuck away my fatigue and roll my shoulders, my heels clicking against the marble floors as I make my way to the reception desk.

“Hi, Chantal. Mia’s expecting me,” I say, peering around the massive vase of wildflowers and purple roses I’m carrying. They’re outrageously over the top and beautiful, and they’re from Fitz for Valentine’s Day, which is why I carried them across Manhattan rather than giving them away.

Chantal’s eyes light up. “Wow. Those are gorgeous. Are they for Mia?”

“No. They’re from a persistent problem I haven’t figured out how to solve,” I say as I head through the glass doors that separate the lobby from the offices.

I’m halfway to Mia’s office when one of her bosses, elite fashion designer Riley Braden, comes down the hall, chic in a camel-colored pantsuit, her brown hair cascading past her shoulders. She’s married to Victory’s cousin, Josh Braden, who’s also a world-renowned designer.

“Hi, Jen.” Riley admires the flowers. “It looks like you’ve got a serious Valentine’s Day admirer.”

Clare, my assistant principal, had said something similar, only I told her they were from Jace, because she doesn’t need to know about this particular drama. But Riley has become a friend over the years, so I say, “Aren’t they ridiculous? I’m considering filing a complaint.”

“Does that mean you’re still not giving men the time of day?”

“Oh, I’m happy to give this particular man the time of day,” I say, spotting Mia heading our way in dark tailored slacks and an ice-blue boatneck blouse. “I’m just not willing to make it a permanent calendar entry.”

“Whoa, sis,” Mia says. “Those are gorgeous.”

“She’s thinking of filing a complaint against the sender,” Riley says with amusement.

“For what?” Mia challenges. “Knowing the right way to woo a stubborn woman?”

“Excessive use of romance,” I fire back.

“That seems extreme,” Riley says.

Holding my ground and refusing to show it’s shaky, I lift my chin and say, “I take floral boundaries very seriously.”