Page 19 of That Friendzone Feeling

“I’mstaying with him whileIlook for somewhere.”

“Hopefullysomeone good will come along for you.Ishould askSara.Sheknows all sorts of influential people.Perhaps, maybe,Imean you never know, one of them might have an interest in—”Shepauses while she searches for the appropriate word.Walkerraises his eyebrows as we both wait for her to decide how to end the sentence. “Bars.”

“No, thanks,Mom.I’mfine.Thebusiness takes so much time, andI’mthrowing myself into that.”Iscoop up some scrambled egg. “Whatelse did you do inParis?”Let’sget this conversation away from me and back onto her favorite topic.

“Iimagine you do have a lot on your plate with the business.Isaw the man you chose to back the resort is in jail.”

Well, isn’t the “you chose” a special touch.

Idrop my fork onto my plate with a clatter, plant my elbows on the table, and rest my head with my fingertips at my temples.

Sincewhen did she ever watch the news, anyway?Justthe one time there was something bad to do with me in it?

“Notto worry,”Isay in a super-cheery tone while staring down at my breakfast. “It’llall work out.We’retalking to a few people.Workingon several options.”

Walkernudges me and gives my lie a thumbs-up.

“Oh,Iknow what,”Momsays, like she’s had the brightest of bright ideas. “Callyour sister.Shemoves inthose circles.Peoplewith large amounts of money to invest in things.Maybemore usually in art or prestigious real estate rather than pub hotels, but you never know.”

Thephrase “pub hotels” is like a knife to my entrepreneurial heart.

“It’sgoing to be a lot more than a pub hotel,Mom.Ittakes up an entire end of the island.There’llbe a whole brewery there, where there’ll be tours andWalker’sgoing to run classes.There’llbe tasting rooms, a bistro, and an upscale restaurant.Thehotel rooms will be chic and stylish.It’salready coming along nicely.Thecontractor sent me some pictures the other day.Ishould forward them to you.”

Walkershrugs and pulls a why-are-you-wasting-your-breath face.ButIcan’t stop myself from trying to make my point. “There’llbe big indoor and outdoor event spaces for weddings and concerts and all kinds of things.Kindof like that big winery you love inSonomabut with beer instead of wine.”

“Well, if there’s a concert area, maybeSaracould play there to help get you some publicity.Bringsome class to the place.”

Walkercloses his eyes, puffs out his cheeks, and shakes his head.

“Okay,Mom.Anyway, glad you had such a good trip toParis.Ihave to run.Weneed to get to the office.Sendmy love toDad.”

“Bye,Emily.”

Ipress the red button.

“JesusfuckingChrist.Idon’t know what’s more painful.”Walkerscoops his final bit of egg onto his toast. “Listeningto the things she says to you, or you stillfighting for her approval.”

Heshoves the egg-laden toast into his mouth and chews aggressively.

“I’mcallingSterling.”Igrab my phone. “It’sbeen two days.Hesaid to give it a couple of days.I’mcalling him.”

Walkerpicks up his plate and heads toward the dishwasher. “Becauseyou think there’s a chance he might have found an investor and been able to contain his glee enough to sit on that news for more than thirty seconds?”

“Fairpoint, but still…”Myphone bursts into life again, this time with a video call. “Well, speak of the bright-shirted devil.”Ihold my phone up to him again.

“Heythere, we were just talking about…Sterling, are you naked?”

“What?”Walkerappears over my shoulder. “Nakedcalls to your boss are anHRincident,Sterl,” he says.

“I’monly topless,”Sterlingsays. “Onthe beach.Look.”Heflips his phone camera to reveal one hundred and eighty degrees of almost deserted white sand with the bluest waterIever did see lapping at it.

“GoodGod, that’s beautiful.”Ilook out of the huge industrial window ofWalker’sloft.It’sgray and drizzling.

“And,”Sterlingsays with a mischievous smile, “Ithought you’d ratherIcalled you right away thanIwasted time going inside to put on more clothes first.”

Aripple of excitement flutters my lower belly—at the thoughtSterlingmight have pulled a rabbit out of a hat.Definitelynot becauseWalker’sleaning on the back of my stool and the body heat emanating from one of those perfectly formed forearms is radiating through the back of my shirt.

Ilean forward to put some distance between myself and the arm.