Page 73 of Desserts for Stressed People

Shane and I remain in an uncomfortable silence. Well, if you exclude the loud music. It feels like silence anyway. Placing my chin in my hand, elbow on the table, I close my eyes.

“Are you ready to admit defeat?” Shane asks as he leans closer, his voice overpowering the music without needing to shout.

My eyes snap open. “I’ve already found a ride back home. So I believe you are the one who needs to roll over and show your belly.”

He rubs a hand over his jaw, whispering something I can’t understand.

I don’t know if he believed my lie. Maybe he noticed I didn’t even take out my phone. But I need to turn it into the truth before the band is done, or I’ll have to admit I need his help.

No. That would be too humiliating. I’d much rather sleep in the bathroom. Which, judging by the state of this room, must be pretty freaking disgusting.

When Riley comes back, she passes me a glass of white wine, and I thank her, saying I’ll get the next round. And that’s it. We remain in complete silence until the band is done playing, and I still have no ride home.

I know Emma is on a date, and I don’t want to spoil her Friday night by asking her if she’ll come to pick me up. And I could text Alex, but the idea of sitting in a car with him for forty minutes gives me a headache.

Worst comes to worst, I could ask my dad to pick me up. He struggles to fall asleep, so he’s probably watching TV. But my parents live on the other side of the city, and it’ll take him almost two hours to get here.

By the time the band is packing up, I know I’ll have to either choose who to call for my rescue mission, or admit I lost. Finally, I give in, because I’m just that proud, and text Alex. Hopefully, he’s not busy with one of his lovers.

We get up with the rest of the audience as Riley sends Shane horrible glares, but he still has that annoying smirk on his face. He’s already tasting the moment in which I’ll cave in and ask him for a ride. Well, that moment won’t come.

“Hi! Mr. Hassholm?” We turn to the sax player, who shakes Shane’s hand. “How is it going?”

“Impressive performance,” Shane comments.

Does he really think that, or is he just saying it? It’s honestly hard to tell.

“Thank you. Do you have five minutes to discuss some details?”

“Of course. This is Heaven Wilson. She’s the project manager in charge of the event.” Shane turns to me, his work-mask so tightly wrapped around his face I can’t even tell he’s angry anymore. “Shall we?”

“No,” Riley says, locking her arm with mine. “You got this, Shane. Heaven and I will wait for you outside.”

Shane’s expression turns murderous. “Heavenreallywants to be included in this decision, Riley. She traveled an hour to be here.”

He stares at me, and if I’ve ever seen a terrified man, this is it. His nostrils are flared, his jaw tense. I’m pretty sure his teeth are gritted so tight he’s broken a few.

Locking my arm tighter into Riley’s hold, I barely fighting a laugh. “Hmm...I think I’m good. You didn’t need me today at the meeting, and I’m sure you can manage without me tonight.”

Shane hesitates, then walks away, only after glaring at his sister once more. His message is clear: donotsay anything. My guess is, his message is also useless.

“Take your time,” Riley says with a wave. “So you and my brother?” she continues, literally as soon as he turns around.

“I think he is still in earshot.”

She scoffs. “If there’s someone my brother can’t control, it’s me. Well...and you.” She drags me out of the bar until we’re in the chilly night, walking through the parking lot. She talks about how good the band was, and that we should definitely hire them, and once we’re far enough from the bar, she lets my arm go, facing me. “You and my brother.”

“I’m not sure what you’ve heard...”

Her thin brows tighten over her eyes. “That he asked you on a date, then found out you have a boyfriend.”

Yikes. That doesn’t sound too good. “Well, yes. But I’m breaking up with him,” I say, my hands slimy with sweat.

“Shane said that too. That your boyfriend’s cheating on you.”

I nod, looking down at the gravel in the parking lot. Emma and Shane are the only people who know. Well, now Riley does too. But it feels weird to hear people say it out loud. Weird and real and humiliating.

“Heaven, listen,” she says, patting her hand on mine. “Shane likes you a lot. I can tell. But my brother...he’s a little sensitive about this stuff.”