The Entitled (The Entitled Duet #1) - Cassandra Robbins Page 0,107
think this shower is going to solve. Will it wash away my shame of my torn relationship with my brother? My endless lack of consideration for my parents’ feelings? My sadness and pain at my grandfather dying? It won’t. It never has, but I get in anyway.
TESS
Past – eighteen years old
New York, NY
“Pretty Girl, we need to talk about this.” Brance sits in my fully decorated and kickass kitchen.
“Why are you doing this to me?” I frown. “You know I need you.”
He stares at me, forcing me to smile at my antics. “I waited for you to get your life back together with Reed. You two are basically married. You’ve been going strong for four months. I need to make the move for myself. I’m done with New York.” He reaches for a couple of the grapes in a bowl sitting in the middle of my island.
“I want to visit my family in Colombia. Have a heart-to-heart with my father. Hope he doesn’t disown me.” He checks his watch as I hand him an omelet that I learned how to make watching the Food Network channel.
“Wow!” He turns the plate. “Can I be seeing things? Did you make me something to eat?” He waves his hand up from the plate to his nose. “It smells like real food.”
“Knock it off. I have decided to learn to cook.” Using a sponge to clean the counter, I continue. “I mean, look at my kitchen. It would be a shame not to use it.”
Sometimes I want to pinch myself to make sure I’m not dreaming. It took Brance and me a month of furniture shopping and the efforts of a team of painters we hired, but we turned it into a masterpiece. To be honest, we could have been done earlier, but Brance discovered this place that installs old railroad ties as floors. Outrageously expensive but so worth it. Then he decided to have a brick wall installed, so that took time. But the finished product speaks for itself. Yellow and French blue were our main colors, adding a warmth that most places lack. Secretly I think it looks better than Caroline’s, and that’s saying something.
Rinsing my hand under the water, I ask, “Don’t you think a phone call would work equally as well? Isn’t it dangerous for you to go to Colombia?”
“No doubt, but I’m long overdue to see my family. My middle brother is recovering from a gunshot wound. I told you he almost died, right?”
“Yes.” I chew my bottom lip. “That’s what I’m talking about. I can’t stand the thought of anything happening to you.”
He smiles, showing off his pretty white teeth. “My dad will take care of security. Believe me, he will have me so heavily guarded, I will be fine.”
“I guess.” I glance down at my nails.
“Also, it’s only fair to tell my father in person that I’m still gay and moving to West Hollywood.” Brance sprinkles some salt on the omelet from my cute little rooster salt caddy.
“I hate it. What am I going to do without you?”
“You have Reed, Pretty Girl. And school and obviously cooking.” He holds up a forkful. “I’m not lying. This is delicious.”
Smiling, I grin. I love to cook. “I made lasagna last night for Reed. He said it was so good I could open my own restaurant.”
Brance’s lips twitch. “Of course he did. Well, he would know.”
“I’m being serious. Reed loves when I cook for him.”
“Reed loves anything you do. Which is why I can safely leave you in his hands.”
I stare at Brance, my mind scrambling to find a way to make him stay. He has been my one constant for the last three years. Sighing, I’ve known from the beginning that he was going to eventually move to California.
“I’m being selfish and spoiled. I want you to be happy. I guess this means as soon as we graduate, we’ll move to Los Angeles. I hate New York anyway,” I say, popping a grape into my mouth.
“Says the girl who won’t leave it.” His snarky voice makes me stick out my tongue.
“You know I have a love-hate thing with New York. I guess it symbolizes security because of Reed.”
“Whatever.” He takes another bite. “Holy God, Tess Rose Gallagher, this is fantastic. I’m extremely impressed.”
I smirk. “I told you I was getting domestic.”
“You weren’t kidding. Next thing, you’ll be barefoot and pregnant.”
I glare at him. “What?”
He arches an eyebrow at me. “It was a joke. God, you’re sensitive today.”