by Lili Valente
* * *
Gigi: Actually, that’s only half of it. Once you get past the whole keeping her prisoner thing, he’s so…real. He has so much to overcome. His anger, his pride, his uncertainty.
* * *
West: True. He’s not even sure how to eat appropriately, if memory serves? Doesn’t she teach him table manners?
* * *
Gigi: Yes. AND THEN HE REPENTS near the end! Gah. When he realizes he was wrong to keep her and lets her go to see her father, I DIE every time. I SWOON. For a beast. He’s so flawed and real. Therefore, I don’t just love him for his library. I love him for his heart.
* * *
West: You’re quite passionate about this beast.
* * *
Gigi: I’m passionate about most things. In case you haven’t noticed.
* * *
West: Oh, I’ve noticed. And I approve. Though, I’m glad you didn’t pick Snow White’s Prince as your favorite. If you had, we might not be able to see each other again.
* * *
Gigi: What? Why would I? He’s the most boring prince ever.
* * *
West: Right? Could he be any duller? He doesn’t even have a name.
* * *
Gigi: I call him Prince Dullsworth the Lame Who Has a Weirdly Red Mouth. Also—did you just say you’d stop seeing me if I liked the wrong prince?
* * *
West: Yes. I did. I have standards, Gigi.
* * *
Gigi: Standards are hot, Prince Panty-Melter of Brooklyn Who Has a Ladder in His Library.
P.S. That sounded dirty, didn’t it?
* * *
West: Yes, and I expect nothing less from you, Princess Kinky Who Wants to Fuck on My Ladder.
* * *
Gigi: Now I know what I’ll dream of tonight…
* * *
West: And on that naughty note, I must go. Get my beauty sleep. Plot world dessert domination. That sort of thing.
* * *
Gigi: So, it’s sleep that makes you so pretty? Good to know. Sleep well.
* * *
West: Goodnight, beautiful. See you soon.
* * *
Gigi: Soon.
15
Gigi
I can do this. No problem.
No conflict of interest.
No violation of my Rules of Engagement.
There’s no reason I can’t pop by a chocolate shop and buy a few gifts for my friends.
Warning my staff the next day that I might be late returning from lunch, I swing out of Sweetie Pies into the warm summer sun and stroll the few blocks over to Cocoa is Love. It’s a perfect day for purchasing a few completely friendly gifts for people who are all just friends and family.
Pushing open the door, I step into the air-conditioned shop and inhale the mouth-watering scent of really good chocolate.
I say hi to the woman in linen behind the counter then begin my hunt. Perusing the shelves, I consider each bar with care. That’s what shopping for others is—a chance to show them that you’ve taken the time to learn what makes them tick.
For Harrison, it’s a chili pepper chocolate bar. He says chocolate gives him super-powered editing energy, and the peppers will give him an extra edge with his evil red pen, mwahahaha. I find a bar infused with grapefruit zest and, despite my personal reservations, add it to my basket for Gram, that crazy grapefruit lover. Next, I grab a bar of chocolate with dried cherries for Ruby—cherries are her favorite, but not maraschino cherries because, eww—and a few mini variety bars for my hardworking staff.
With that done, I move on to my next gift selection.
Just one of the many I’m here to purchase today. Not the entire reason I made a special trip to the chocolate shop at all.
Eyes darting around, I check the shop for witnesses like I’m about to dip my hand into the cookie jar.
But I’m being ridiculous, of course. Buying a gift for West is nothing to be secretive about. I’m simply repaying his thoughtfulness.
Tit for tat.
Mmm, I do like his hands on my tits, and he would be so hot with a tattoo. Even if it was something silly like a teapot on his bicep. He’s hot enough to pull off a teapot tattoo.
“Just friends” thoughts, woman! You. Are. Just. Friends.
Right. Friends.
Forcing my thoughts to less seductive things than West’s biceps—like tea and how gross it is and how only a monster would add it to chocolate, I scan the “smoky sweet” shelf.
I spot a bar named No Grey Area Here and can’t help but smile. Gross flavor combo, but an adorable name. Very Harrison-esque. And hey, if I’m thinking about my brother as I slip this bar from the shelf, that proves that West and I are simply pals who flirt and misbehave with our mouths once in a while.
As the bell dings above the door, I turn the bar over and read the description. He said he loved an Earl Grey infused chocolate, and this description certainly seems to fit the bill.
“This Earl Grey semi-sweet will steep your mouth in bliss and convince you sweet treats are made of teas,” I read aloud.
A throat clears.
I jump and spin to see Ruby standing by the door.
She’s with her mother—Aunt Barb, my mom’s sister.
Shoulders tightening like I’ve been caught stealing, I instinctively swing my basket behind my back.
“Don’t worry,” Ruby calls. “We didn’t see you hide a chocolate stash behind your back.”
“Chocolate is nothing to be ashamed of, sweetheart,” Barb says in her cheery voice. “We all love chocolate.”
“Unless you’ve got more than four bars in there, then you might have a problem,” Ruby teases.
“Stop trying to sweet-shame me, you cherry addict,” I tease right back. “And move away from the counter. I might have a little treat in here for you that I don’t want you to see yet.”
Laughing, Ruby blows me a kiss. “You’re the best. Come see us before you leave.”
“Will do,” I promise. As Ruby and Barb grab a table in the café section—frozen chocolate drinks are one of their summer traditions—I settle up at the counter and collect my pink bag of treasures.
When I turn to see Ruby and Barb laughing as they open their menus, my heart squeezes a little bit. I always wished I had that kind of relationship with my mom. That we were the kind of mother-daughter pair who hung out at cafés laughing, eating, and telling stories.
Just hanging out together on a Tuesday.
I wish I knew what that was like. But at least I have Aunt Barb and Gram.
When I join them, Barb extends an arm my way. “Hey there, sugar, how are you? You’ve been working so hard, I feel like I barely see you anymore. You should come over for dinner soon and let me feed you.”
“Yes,” Ruby agrees. “Feed both of us, please. Coconut curry chicken like when we were little.”
I moan in remembered bliss. “Oh yes. Please.”
Barb laughs. “Done. And then we’ll take dessert out to the garden and watch the stars come out.”
“Speaking of dessert,” Ruby says, patting the table. “Show me the goods, girl.”
I tut at her. “You must be terrible at Christmas.” I pause, putting a mock-thoughtful finger to my lips. “Oh, wait. You are. You peek at all your gifts like a devious little spy who can’t be trusted in my apartment alone.”
“It’s only because you’re so good at giving presents.” She makes grabby hands. “So, let me see, let me see.”
“Terrible,” I say. “And when I know you were raised so well.”
“I did try,” Barb says with a laugh.
“How will I know what to order now if I don’t know what Gigi’s gifting me later?” Ruby’s lips push into a pout, and I relent.
I love giving gifts, especially to grateful and excited recipients like my cousin. I hand over the bag, and Ruby coos and thanks me before peering inside. “Yay cherries for me! And Harrison is going to love that chili number, but wh
o’s that for?”
She points at the No Grey Area Here bar.
“No one special,” I say breezily. “Just another friend. No one you know.”
Ruby straightens and stares at me, a wicked smile spreading slowly across her face. “You bought that for a man, didn’t you?”
I huff. “Yes, a man who is a friend.”
“No, this is a man you like. You wanted to buy him a treat but didn’t want to feel weird about it, so you hid his present in with all the friend gifts to trick yourself into deciding it was okay to buy him an ‘I like you’ present,” she says, seeing inside my guilty little soul.
“That’s some serious psychology,” Barb says, a Sherlock Holmes tone to her voice.
A flush creeps up my neck.
I’ve been caught.
And even though deep down I knew all along this was a West-focused mission, having Ruby lay it all out there is still…uncomfortable.
Like being caught with nothing but socks on—the rest of you feels even more naked somehow.
Dangerously naked.
It’s dangerous to like a man enough that you go hunting gross chocolate just for him.
Ugh. What am I doing? Especially when West made it clear he isn’t up for anything but a fling?
“It’s for the man who’s opening Tea and Empathy, isn’t it?” Ruby asks with a knowing quirk of her brow.
I wrinkle my nose. “Yes.”
“Oh, him. He’s really something,” Barb says, her eyes going wide. “I saw him carrying some paint into his shop the other morning on my walk. Just a stunning man. I bet he already gets marriage proposals slipped under the shop door.”
A spark of jealousy ignites in my chest. “He better not,” I mutter.
Ruby cracks up.
So does Barb.
Then Ruby gives me a long, exaggerated nod. “Never mind. I was mistaken, he’s clearly just a man who’s your friend.”
Barb pats my hand. “I’m sure he’ll be fooled, too.” With a wink, she slips out of her chair. “Be right back, girls. I need to go talk to Linda about a bulk order for the pies I’m cooking for the Boys and Girls Club fundraiser next week.”
As soon as she’s out of ear shot, Ruby grabs my arm. “Liar, liar, pants on fire. I didn’t want to spill the beans in front of Mom, but you slept with the competition again. Didn’t you!”
Heaving a tortured sigh, I cave, pouring out my insides like a snowman melting on a summer day. “Sort of, but Ruby, I couldn’t help myself. He can solve a Rubik’s Cube in under a minute. He looks and sounds just like Henry Cavill. He’s smart and clever and filthy in bed, and he can cook like nobody’s business and he’s sweet to shy people, and to me, and I’m just —”
“A cruel, terrible person,” she finishes.
I blink. “What? Why am I cruel and terrible?”
“Because you didn’t call me to tell me about all this! I thought Weston was still persona non grata. I thought we were still hating him until the end of time or not talking about him because it was upsetting to you or whatever.” She nudges my arm. “You should have told me you’d had a change of heart and maybe even…” She hesitates before continuing in a hopeful whisper, “found the man of your dreams?”
I shake my head. “He’s not the man of my dreams.”
“Stop. You’ve already withheld yummy gossip from your best friend and favorite cousin,” she says, “don’t add fibbing to your list of sins.”
I press my lips together, at war with myself, and my chest is suddenly so tight it’s hard to breathe.
“Hey, babe,” Ruby adds in a softer, more serious voice as she lays gentle fingers on my arm. “I’m just kidding. You don’t have to talk about this if you don’t want to. Your romantic business is your romantic business, not anyone else’s.”
“It’s not that,” I say, biting the side of my mouth. “It’s…everything. Everything is dumb.”
“Everything?” She arches a brow. “Would it help to maybe break that down a little?”
I take a fortifying breath. “Okay, one, he’s in the competition, and I can feel myself getting distracted by him. And I can’t afford distraction, not when I barely squeaked into the top three in the first challenge. I have to stay strong, or I won’t have a chance in hell of winning. Two, even if he wasn’t in the competition, or after the competition is over, don’t you think getting involved with the guy across the street is a tiny bit dumb?”
Ruby hums thoughtfully. “Because you’ll have to see him every day if it doesn’t work out?”
My heart sinks even lower. “Yes. And really, what are the chances it will work out? Even if I can convince him to give serious dating a try, things never work out with me and boyfriends. Boyfriends always break my heart. Always. The only saving grace is that we live in a huge city and I usually don’t have to see them again.”
At least not every day. I’ve run into Theodore on the street and that was misery, and I bumped into Shelby on the subway. The same car. Thank God, I never see Nelson the Odious since he doesn’t deign to come to Brooklyn.
Which brings me to my point.
“If I truly pursue something with West”—I shudder—“can you imagine how awful it would be to see him right across the street, going about his life without me? Happy that I’m no longer in his bed? Maybe even bringing his new girlfriend to his shop for brunch because of course she’s perfect for him and beautiful and sweet and loves gross, disgusting tea as much as he does.” I press my hand to the ache in my chest. “God. It hurts just thinking about it.”
Truly, it does.
I can feel it already, how much my heart will break when West disappoints me.
When, not if. I’d love to believe he’s different than the men who’ve betrayed me in the past, but I’ve been burned so many times.
And how much more would those burns have hurt if I’d been forced to see those men’s faces every day?
Ruby takes my hand. “It’s a valid concern. That would be really hard, but…”
“But?” I prod after a moment.
“But maybe worth the risk?”
I gulp. “I think friends is better. Friends. At least for now.”
Ruby’s lips part, but before she can speak, Aunt Barb returns, and the discussion veers to pies and charity work, and before I know it, I’m on my way back to the store to clear a space in my baking schedule for my own donation to the Boys and Girls Club auction.
I concentrate on paying it forward to my community and ignore the tangle of confusion knotting my stomach as I slip West’s present into his mail slot with a note that reads, “Something sweet to go with your dirty.”
Later that night, West sends me a text.
West: This chocolate is almost as delicious as you are.
And I swoon.
But it’s a friendly swoon, I swear.
16
West
I devour the chocolate she sent me, savoring every bite the way I intend to savor her pussy the next time I’m between her thighs, and wait for a text back.
I’m still waiting the next morning as I head into the shop to put the finishing touches on plans for opening day.
But still she doesn’t respond.
Not so much as an emoji.
I’m not happy. But I don’t suspect she’s playing games. Even when she was angry with me, she was frank about it. She didn’t give me the silent treatment or play the “guess why I’m mad” game. She laid it out for me, right on the street, no less.
Gigi James doesn’t mince words. She wears her heart on her sleeve and she uses that mouth.
Dear God, that mouth.
She also spoke plainly after the blow job in my library too, making it clear that we can’t be more than friends who…don’t fuck, but do things that are very fuck-adjacent.
A tad confusing, maybe. But honest.
There’s something so refreshing about that level of honesty.
There’s something wildly appealing too, about her reasons—h
er laser focus on her family’s business is commendable. Yet another reason to like her.
Dammit. I wish there weren’t so many. It would be a hell of a lot easier to keep my focus where it belongs—on a successful opening Friday and a solid performance at the next challenge .
It’s like I always say, timing is everything. And Gigi’s made it clear that now is not the time for anything to happen with the man across the street.
I’m still thinking about timing a few hours later as I’m walking toward Sweetie Pies on my way home and Gigi suddenly charges out onto the sidewalk and shouts, “Ms. Milton, you forgot your change!”
An older woman across the street waiting by the bus stop waves a hand. “Oh, you keep it, dear. You do such a good job.”
Gigi smiles, but shakes her head. “You’re so sweet, but this is a… large tip. I think you may have left the wrong bill by mistake.”
The woman’s smile crinkles her face in a clearly familiar pattern of wrinkles that’s rather beautiful. “Oh, take the hundred dollars, sweetheart, and go buy yourself something nice. You deserve it. Your pie and sweet smile are the best part of my week.”
“Oh my goodness, well, thank you.” Gigi presses a hand to her chest. “Thank you so much.”
She’s still standing there with her hand over her heart as Ms. Milton’s bus swallows her up and trundles her away.