The First Taste (Slip of the Tongue #2) - Jessica Hawkins Page 0,104
homework or girl problems that Andrew won’t understand, like her first crush or how to use a tampon. Stuff I thought I would do.” She nods, as if she’s adding more to the list in her head. “You might have to do, like, bake sales for her school. Then again, Andrew is a really good baker, so maybe not.”
In just a few seconds, I’ve been forced out of my office and into some alternate reality. The shift in topic is so quick, I’m suddenly in a kitchen in New Jersey, Bell’s schoolbooks spread out on the kitchen table as Andrew makes cookies. The kitchen is warm—why? From the oven? Or the people?
It’s so not my life. It doesn’t sound like a bad life . . . it just isn’t mine. Couldn’t be mine. Could it? Can I see myself at that table, helping Bell with homework, sneaking glances at big, strong, tattooed Andrew as he bakes?
“Right,” I say, but it comes out as a whisper.
“Andrew needs someone who can make him happy.” She watches me closely, as if waiting for me to say something. “Someone that makes him smile and laugh. Other than Bell.”
“I agree,” I say. “I mean, he does when we’re together, smile, and laugh, but I can tell it’s not how he is all the time.”
She thins her lips, nodding. “He’s got a tough exterior—it’s hard to break through. That was why I was surprised he told you about Shana.”
I shift in my seat. “Yes, well. We didn’t mean for the conversation to go that way, but it did.”
“So, what’re your plans tonight?” she asks.
My fantasy fizzes and fades. The warmth recedes with it. There’s work to be done. There’s always work to be done, no matter if we’re busy or not. Normally, I don’t think too hard about that, but now, the thought depresses me. “Nothing,” I say. “I’ll probably stay here.”
“Nathan wants to try this new restaurant in Meatpacking.” She shrugs. “I’m not really into Indian right now, but he’s been bending over backward to make sure I’m comfortable.”
“That’s, um, sweet,” I say.
She nods. “I know you don’t really like him, but he’s been amazing.”
“It’s possible that I . . .” It’s hard for me to admit when I’m wrong. I start again. “It’s possible I don’t know the full story. According to Andrew.”
She smiles a little. “You don’t. But you don’t really have to like Nate,” she says. “It’s not like you ever spend time together. You’re just my boss.”
It’s a bit harsh for Sadie, who’s generally pretty even-keeled, not one to make a scene or go out of her way to make her opinion known. Maybe that’s why it stings a little. I had almost been part of their unit, the three of them, but that’s gone now. Sadie knows it too, yet by the smug look on her face, it’s as if she’s rubbing it in.
In fact, this whole conversation, she’s been putting ideas in my head, like Andrew as a sexy baker, and then tearing them down.
Of course. Sadie knows me well. She understands that pushing Andrew on me would’ve scared me off. I narrow my eyes. “Sadie?”
She stands quickly. “I should get back to work.”
I gasp. “You’re using reverse psychology on me.”
“Do you honestly think I’m that calculating?”
“Yes.”
She laughs. “All right, fine. Yes, I tricked you, but my intentions are good, Amelia. Andrew’s held everyone at arm’s length so long. If he smiles and laughs with you, if he opens up to you—that’s rare. Don’t take that away from him, and by him, I mean me, because I want my brother to have what Nathan and I do.”
I may be surprised by her approval, but she looks completely at ease about it. “What about everything else?” I ask. “All the reasons not to?”
“I can tell that you like him. And that he likes you. It makes no sense and it’s a miracle. Don’t throw that away.” She absentmindedly touches her growing belly. “I love Bell with all my heart, but you have my approval. Even if it doesn’t work out, I think it’s really important for her to see her dad happy right now.”
Me, make Andrew happy? But I do, don’t I? It’s been a while since I’ve done that for anyone. Reggie had to find someone else for it. Andrew isn’t Reggie, though. I know that deep down. Andrew’s more important to me than I’ve allowed myself to believe. Maybe Bell too.