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“What?”
“You need to drop the case and focus on something else.” She pauses to take a deep breath. “Kaylee told me you’re helping her with her shop. Do that instead.”
How does she know about Andrews & Sons? Melissa has never shown much interest in my work, or anything such as that. There’s no way she could have known if someone didn’t tell her. And even if someone did, why would she want me to drop the case?
“Who told you about my case against Andrew & Sons? And better still, why do you want me to drop the case?”
“I just told you, Ian, it doesn't matter.”
“And I told you, I need to know.”
“God, Ian. Why are you so stubborn?” She closes her palm on her face. “Why can’t you just trust me enough to do what I say for once?”
“Trust you?” I scoff. “Please tell me that’s a joke. You lie to me, you hide stuff, and now you want me to trust you?”
“Look, Ian, I know how it sounds, but you need to—”
“No, Mom.” I stop her. “I’m not listening to anything else you say till you tell me why.”
“Okay fine!” She throws up her hands. “I don’t know why you wouldn’t just trust me, but since you really want to know, I’ll tell you.” She pauses, taking a deep breath. “It’s because of Barrett Andrews.”
“Barrett Andrews?” I scoff, tucking my hands into my back pocket. “Why should I care about that asshole?”
“Because that asshole…is your father.”
Chapter Twenty-One: Kaylee
Today has been a hectic day at the shop, just like all the other days since the rebranding party. Sales are at an all-time high, which is good news–or at least will be if I can get some funding for the help needed to meet the demand. There were people lining up to buy pastries during the afternoon rush hour. I had to call Elena to help me handle the counter while I worked in the kitchen. If I don’t find a way to employ more people and buy the necessary equipment, it won’t be long before the customers start to take their business elsewhere. My only hope right now is the Andrews & Sons grant.
I place my head on the counter, sighing as I watch Elena bag a box of glazed doughnuts into a plastic bag and hand it to a red-haired customer. She receives the money, tucking it into the register.
“Thanks, come again.” She waves to the customer, who walks out of the double doors. I heave a loud sigh and she turns to me. “Hey, I know you’re tired, but don’t look so glum. You’re scaring off the customers.”
My brows quirk up as I stare at her. “Really?”
“Yeah.” She nods, sliding the register close. “They’ll think you have food poisoning or something.”
“Shut up.” I roll my eyes, sitting up on the stool. Elena chuckles, raising her wrist to look at the time.
“Ok look at that. It’s seven o’clock already. That’s my cue to leave.”
“Thanks for coming on such short notice, Elena. I really appreciate it.”
“Hey, don’t mention it. You were about to be eaten by a bunch of hungry customers. What could I do? Kick back and watch another episode of How I Met Your Mother?”
“You’re still watching that sitcom?”
“What can I say? It’s a classic.” She shrugs and I smile softly. Sometimes, I wish I can be as happy and relaxed as Elena. She has everything: a loving husband, a beautiful daughter, and a job as a freelance writer, which is what she has always wanted. Even though it gets hectic sometimes, it’s never enough to bring down her smile.
It’s in sharp contrast to my life. It feels like I always get a new thing to worry about every week. Right now, it’s the funding, and Ian. The same Ian I haven’t spoken to in days. After the incident with Dylan, I had time to properly think about what he had said. Ian doesn’t stay in one place for too long, which means there’s no possibility of us being anything more than what we are right now.
There’s no use pursuing anything with him, only to get hurt when he leaves. That’s why I’m keeping my distance. But then, I can’t help the fact that I’m missing him badly, the fact that I’m in love with him, the fact that I haven’t been able to stop thinking about him…the way his lips curl up when he’s smiling, his piercing blue eyes, which always look like he can see into your very soul. The intoxicating scent of his perfume, his biceps— God, his biceps. My insides twinge deliciously as images of Ian’s shirtless body come to mind. I lick my lips instinctively as I picture him looming over me, his naked silhouette a sight. Ian, poised over me and ready to—
“Kaylee!”
I jerk up in my seat, almost falling backward. My gaze turns to Elena, who’s looking at me as if I’ve grown two heads.
“What’s up?”
