CHAPTER NINE
P IPER
It’s Wednesday game night, and I’m feeling more skittish than normal.
Usually, this is my chance to recalibrate and reconnect with my family. But right now, I have a few things I don’t want them knowing about. So I need to focus on the priorities: eating dinner as uneventfully as possible then demolishing them all in euchre.
Mom's house is buzzing with the usual Wednesday evening chaos—Asher's deep laugh rumbling through the living room, Jett and Dane arguing about some call in yesterday's hockey game, Griffin stealing bites of dinner before it's ready while Mom swats him away as Lia dances underfoot. Mom’s weekly vase of fresh flowers sits proudly on the counter—this week, it’s white roses and pink lilies. She’s always got fresh, gorgeous blooms somewhere in the house, whether from buying herself a bouquet or one of us kids surprising her.
The smell of Mom's lasagna fills the air, yet all I can think about is how damn delicious Kru’s mango slaw and braised short rib taco was two days ago.
The one-off weekend in Cleveland would almost be passable; but the fact that my usurper has now fed me ?
That’s a hop, skip, and a jump away from a dinner date, and I feel like my brothers would never see the logic in that.
Now I must spend the rest of my life making sure they never find out. Great.
Once we’ve all tucked away the lasagna and opened up a bottle of wine to share, I’m ready to get this show on the road. I start clearing plates.
“Jeez, impatient much?” Griff whines.
“You’ve had enough,” I tell him. “Three helpings, Griff. Where do you even put it?”
“I have high caloric needs,” he snaps as I carry off his last few bites of lasagna. “Besides, I’m not on the active roster this season, so I have to take advantage of being able to eat whatever I want.”
I sigh, bringing the plate back to him. He forks the last couple of bites into his mouth and sits back contentedly.
“Thanks, Pipe Cleaner.”
“So do you guys have dinner together every night?” Asher asks us with a warm, fatherly smile.
“We don’t eat together much,” Griffin says. “I’m usually gone; she’s always working. And then sometimes she brings dinner for herself and forgets all about me, like she did a couple nights ago.”
My chest tightens. I don’t want to venture anywhere near that story, so I pivot. “I’m your roommate, not your personal chef. Besides, I don’t have enough money to provide the amount of food your organism requires.”
Dane snorts. “Organism.”
Lia looks up at her daddy. “What’s orgamins?”
“It’s just another word for body, honey.” He presses a kiss to the top of her head. “Your uncle Griff eats a lot of food.”
“So cohabitation is going well?” Mom asks as I circle back to the table to get the rest of the empty plates.
“Of course,” I say cheerily. “What could be better than living with my big brother?”
“I’m surprised you wanted to move in with him,” Asher says in his typical musing drawl. “You loved your apartment. And it was so convenient to your shop.”
My heart rate picks up again. This definitely falls on the list of things I do not want to talk about tonight. “I know. I just wanted…more space. A backyard.”
Shit . That word reminds me of Kru and the fence and all those kisses that I absolutely must forget about.
Griffin keeps up his end of the deal when he adds, “I might have sweet-talked her into it a bit. I told her I wanted someone to help keep an eye on my house during the season.”
“I’ll do anything for family,” I add with an over-the-top smile. Griff laughs but rolls his eyes. “Until Griff gets a girlfriend. Then I’m definitely moving out.”
“What about if you get a boyfriend?” Mom asks slyly.
“Not happening,” I quickly say, and my brothers are quick to reaffirm why.
“No chance he’d make it through my front door,” Griffin says.
“I’m pretty sure we already learned what happens when Piper has a boyfriend,” Jett adds.
I groan, thankful that I’m focused on loading the dishwasher.
They’re talking about the time in ninth grade when I tried to take poor Marcus Smith to Homecoming.
My brothers spooked him so badly at the front door that he took off running back into his Mom’s car.
I ended up going to Homecoming with my besties, nary a Marcus in sight.
“If I were dumb enough to try to have a boyfriend around this family, I can assure you I’d never bring him to the front door.” I slam the dishwasher shut with more force than I intended. It doesn’t dissuade my brothers.
“You can have a boyfriend,” Asher says. “He just needs to be vetted.”
“Vetted, cleared, and approved,” Jett adds.
“With a full mental-health evaluation,” Griffin pipes up.
“And a minimum of ten references,” Dane says.
“No, twenty,” Asher butts in.
“And one evening alone with me and the rest of your brothers just so we can perform our own tests on him.” Jett’s devious smile grows wider.
“Tests?” I squeak.
“Yeah. With our fists,” Griffin finishes for him, and all my brothers burst into laughter.
Mom snickers, which I don’t understand. These men would never let her date anyone either, which is probably why she’s never tried since my dad passed away.
“Thank you all for reminding me of the process. You bunch of heathens.” I grab the deck of cards on my way back to the table, eager to get this show on the road. My heart is thumping. “Can we start playing now?”
I team up with Mom, while Griff and Asher pair up against us. Dane and Lia migrate closer to the television at Lia’s request for a princess show, while Jett hovers over Asher’s shoulder, nodding while he assesses his cards.
“Let’s go,” I snap.
Jett squints over at me. “What’s got you in such a hurry?”
I'm not about to admit that my head is full of Kru—his hands, his mouth, the way he looked at me as he handed over the best taco I’d ever eaten.
Nope. That's staying locked in the vault. It has to, because my brothers have just confirmed they’d either send him into a bureaucratic sinkhole or beat him to a pulp for daring to date me.
But you’re not trying to date him, I remind myself. So this is completely irrelevant.
“Nothing,” I lie. “Just ready to win.”
We play the first hand in relative peace. Mom and I win, which earns the expected chorus of groans. I point at the hourglass, so Dad knows that win is for him. Jett deals the next round while Mom taps out to watch TV with Lia, and the conversation drifts to local gossip.
“So the side street we’re on is closed for construction,” Jett says.
“Oh shit.” Griff deftly deals out the next hand. “How’s that working for customers?”
“They’ve got some back entrance set up, but nobody knows about it,” Jett grumbles. “It’s just pure chaos all the time. I swear we get twenty calls a day asking how to find us now.”
“That sucks,” I add. “I’ve been having annoying traffic flow interruptions too but nothing like a street being cut off.”
“What’s cutting off your traffic?” Asher muses as he assesses his hand.
“Just my new landlord ,” I say with a sigh.
“Always blocking the curb cut for some new reason. We had a whole showdown the other day when he completely blocked the sidewalk with all his heavy ass patio furniture for hours. ” I can hear Kru in my head correcting me that it wasn’t hours but rather a half hour , and I tell imaginary Kru to shut up because I’m busy reassuring my brothers I don’t have feelings for my landlord.
“Oh my god, this guy,” Griffin groans as he lays down a card. “Piper, I’m gonna go talk to him.”
“Absolutely not,” I say, and then toss my card into the middle. “Not unless you want the altercation to be captured by the camera crew, and used as evidence in your inevitable harassment charge.”
He snorts. “Camera crew?”
Oh god. I forgot that they don’t know he’s filming a reality TV show.
“Yeah,” I say slowly, focusing extra hard on the cards my brothers are laying down. “He’s doing another reality TV show with the buildout of his restaurant.”
Silence stretches across the table for an unsettling amount of time. I can see my brothers glancing at each other, as though silently questioning how to handle this piece of information. Mom drifts back into the kitchen.
“Did you say they’re filming a reality TV show?” Mom asks, eyebrows raised.
“Yeah. Capturing the renovation process or whatever,” I say, clearing the table after I take the trick. I lay down another card to start the next round.
“All right. So I’ll lure him into your back room and confront him there, where the cameras aren’t watching,” Griffin says. His attempt to avoid a filmed altercation is cute, but it doesn’t work as he intended.
Now I’m in a sticky spot.
“Well, the cameras are sometimes on my side too,” I begin.
"Why are they bothering you?" Griffin presses, because of course he does.
I clear my throat. "They’re not bothering me. They’re just…” All of the attention is on me now, which makes my brain short circuit. “The producers thought it would be, you know, a good idea if I was…involved."
"Involved how?" Asher's stern voice comes out, the one that makes me feel like he’s my dad.
"Just as the neighboring business owner. I guess for filler." Asher plays a card, and we win the round again. "You go, Asher.”
But nobody's paying attention to the game anymore. All eyes are on me.
"Wait. Let me get this straight," Jett says slowly. "You’re on a reality show with the guy who’s trying to kick you out of your building?"
"He’s not trying to kick me out," I mutter, but Jett and my other brothers still don’t know the truth: that he actually did kick me out of my apartment.
“It’s safe to assume he’s trying to drive you out of there,” Asher says. “Did you sign a contract to be on the show?”
I swallow hard. “I did.”
All four brothers sigh tersely. Now I feel like I’m in trouble and don’t know why.
“You guys should be happy,” I say. “I’m getting paid and getting tons of exposure.”