Chapter 16
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
NORA
There’s no sign of the server, so Cormac and José head inside to the bar to grab our drinks. I feel a twist of uneasiness in my chest as I watch them disappear into the restaurant. Is Cormac okay with all of this? I didn’t have a chance to ask him.
I know I should have talked to him in private before agreeing to listen to this presentation, but it seemed like the perfect opportunity for Pansy to make an ass out of herself. The sooner she does that, the sooner José can move on, and I can stop making demands on Cormac.
You won’t have a reason to spend time with him either, the voice in my head whispers.
Yes, our parents are married now, but realistically, we’ll only be thrown together with them a few times a year. Less, if he decides to spend the holidays with his mother this year.
I ball up my napkin as a tight, uncomfortable feeling steals over me.
Our talk in the car earlier must have gotten to me. It seeped into me and made me wonder if there was more to the made-up story we came up with. I know he was speaking hypothetically when he said he used to have a crush on me, but he seemed so sincere…
Pansy pats my arm with her fingertips. “You didn’t tell me he was loaded,” she says in a loud whisper.
“I was surprised when I found out about you two at the wedding, especially since I know you and José used to date. I mean, José is so sexy and charming. I knew within fifteen minutes of meeting him that I wanted to marry him. Cormac is cute enough, but he’s really awkward. But, yeah, I totally get it now.”
“Excuse me?”
She laughs. “Oh, don’t play dumb, Nora. You know exactly what I’m talking about. We both know you’re in it for the money.”
Then it hits me: the sale, his early retirement, his work with Kenji…
I hadn’t thought about it much, particularly since Cormac doesn’t act like someone who has money, but he must be wealthy. Leave it to him to make bank and live exactly the same way he always has.
“You think I’m with him because he might be wealthy?” I ask, feeling the burn of resentment.
She’s acting like money would be the only reason a woman would want to be with Cormac, which is straight-up ridiculous.
No, he’s not smooth, but honestly, thank God.
I’m sick of slick assholes with dozens of dumb pickup lines.
Cormac is smart and funny, and as much as it makes me cringe to admit it, he’s nice. He’s a legitimately kind person.
I mean, hell, it was beyond nice of him to agree to this mess. Sure, he needed someone to look after Cookie last weekend, but he could have easily found someone else, someone who would have accepted a few twenties for it.
“I know that’s why you’re with him.” Pansy flips her golden hair over one shoulder. “But I don’t blame you. We women need to look after our own interests, don’t we? That’s why I’ve been pushing Pads by Pansy so hard.”
“Wow.”
I set down my crumpled napkin, tempted to punch her in the face, the same way I socked a kid in the third grade when he told me my mother’s behind was as big as an elephant’s.
Now that I think about it, the reason I didn’t get into more trouble for that was probably because Mr. Peebles was already gaga for my mom.
Just like you’re starting to feel something for Cormac.
But no. No. The voice in my head is dead wrong.
There’s nothing between Cormac and me, and there can’t be. But that doesn’t mean I have to accept Pansy’s bullshit take.
I suck in a deep breath and let it seep out. “Pansy, that would be a terrible reason for dating someone. I’m with Cormac because I want to be with him. I’m with him because he’s smart, and kind, and funny.”
“I thought we were becoming friends,” she says with a sigh, as if I’m the asshole here.
“You can level with me, and I’ll level with you.
I thought José had a lot more money when I met him.
He was wearing this expensive suit and that Rolex his godfather gave him.
I didn’t find out until later that he’d sunk his trust fund into the brewery. ”
I gape at her.
What the actual fuck?
Why is she telling me all of this?
The answer trips through my head a second later: she can say whatever she wants. If José’s not around to hear it, it’ll only be hearsay, more evidence of me bullying her.
“Is that why you tried to get him to leave?”
She tilts her head toward her shoulder, the gesture almost lazy. “I didn’t want him to be financially tied to another woman. You understand. He wouldn’t even tell me how much he’d invested in the brewery. I had to look for myself.”
Which explains why she was snooping in my office two weeks ago, presumably.
I still want to throttle her, but it wouldn’t do much for my get José to break up with her but not leave the brewery plan.
She waves a hand. “You understand. But things are different now.”
Yes, they are. Because I’m even more determined to get her the hell out of all of our lives.
The guys emerge onto the patio with cold drinks that immediately start to sweat. Cormac sets one down in front of me. “Whiskey ginger.”
He smiles at me as he sits down beside me. His eyes watch me from behind his glasses—those endless pools of warm gray, surrounded by thick lashes.
On impulse, I lean in and kiss his cheek, taking in his familiar, crisp scent. “Thank you.”
“It’s just a drink.”
But it’s not. He’s gone above and beyond for me. “Thank you. I appreciate you.”
His expression softens further.
“Here.” José practically smacks a glass of cider down in front of Pansy before he resumes his seat next to me.
She hasn’t even started her presentation, and he’s already aggravated. That’s a good sign, but honestly, I can’t stop looking at Cormac.
“Nora was just telling me she’s so crazy in love with you,” Pansy tells Cormac conspiratorially, leaning into his bubble.
He adjusts his chair toward me and takes a long sip of his drink, which looks like straight whiskey. “That doesn’t sound like Nora.”
José suppresses a laugh, which turns unconvincingly into a cough.
“Well, she was.” Pansy crosses her arms over her chest. “We’re so happy for you two, and we’re honored you trust us to keep your secret.”
“We don’t have much of a choice, do we?” Cormac remarks. “But thank you, I guess.” He glances my way. “We drive each other crazy.”
I tap my foot against his under the table.
The server finally makes an appearance and approaches us. “Do you know what you’d like?”
Cormac waves at the menu. “I’ll have whatever the smiling broccoli is.”
I laugh. “Make that two.”
José and Pansy put in their orders, and the second the server steps away, Pansy pulls an enormous reusable shopping bag out from under her chair.
“Here we go,” José murmurs.
Pansy ignores him and yanks a swatch of fuzzy light-pink fabric out of the bag. Presenting it to Cormac, she says, “Run your fingers over this and tell me the first thing you think of.”
He complies, then purses his lips. “Plastic.”
“It’s made of luxury, man-made materials,” she says with a faint frown.
“That’s usually a fancy way of saying plastic,” Cormac replies. “But it’s…soft plastic, I guess.”
José takes her hand. “Not now. We haven’t even eaten yet.”
He looks tense, his smile tight and full of unease. Pansy, on the other hand, seems energized by our awkwardness.
“Why don’t we play a little icebreaker game?” I suggest.
“I’d rather not,” Cormac says. “Let’s just get the presentation over with so we can—” His Adam’s apple bobs. “Have fun.”
He’s obviously not enthusiastic about this evening, not that I blame him. He’s upset with me, and he probably should be. José looks angry too—definitely with Pansy, and possibly with all of us.
I was hoping I could slide some questions about her two ex-fiancés into a game, but that’ll have to wait, because Pansy pulls a binder out of her bag.
“Now, I took the liberty of envisioning a redesign not just for the bathrooms but the whole brewery. Let’s set the scene.”
She pulls out her phone, and seconds later, a tinny rendition of “Livin’ on a Prayer” reverberates through the air. “I’m thinking upbeat music.” She grabs the swatch of plastic fabric and waves it at us. “Comfortable, cozy seating.” Her smile stretches wider. “A dedicated dance floor.”
José rubs his forehead. “It’s not a dance club, for Christ’s sake. It’s a brewery.” She darts him one of her wounded, Bambi-eyed looks, and he sighs heavily. “I’m sorry. I have a headache, and the heat and the music aren’t helping.”
Pansy gasps. “You don’t like Bon Jovi?”
“Of course I do. I just…why don’t you show them your redesign plan for the bathrooms? That’s what Nora asked for.”
She shoots him a disapproving look before flipping the binder open.
For the next ten minutes, she guides us through her proposed changes, which involve stupidly expensive fixtures, fuzzy towels that would have to be changed way too frequently, and a couple of tampon and condom machines that might actually be good additions if they weren’t so expensive.
After she finishes, I turn toward José. “The budget is beyond our means. All of it.”
This is where he’s supposed to step in and agree with me, because he knows as well as I do that we can only afford new window dressing, not all these unnecessary “upgrades.”
“Aren’t you being silly?” Pansy says with a smug smile. “Based on what I’ve read, Cormac’s budget must be basically limitless.”
“So, maybe he’d like to have those fixtures in his bathroom, but—”
“I wouldn’t,” Cormac interjects. “They’re impractical.”
I glare at her. “Besides, his budget is not our budget.”
“Isn’t it?” she asks with wide-eyed innocence.
She’s giving me a look that says your parents would find all of this very interesting, wouldn’t they?
“It’s not,” Cormac says definitively. “Dating Nora doesn’t make me another owner of the business. If it did, you’d have some kind of role at the brewery, which of course you don’t.”
Pansy opens her mouth but doesn’t say anything.
José coughs. Is he trying not to laugh?