Chapter Fifteen
Jo
“Did you kiss though?” Misty asks, taking a bite of the fried chicken sandwich in front of her. She came to have lunch at the bar today since I’m working and it’s always dead on weekdays during lunch.
“No.”
“No?” She raises an eyebrow. “Why not?”
“The last thing I need in my life is another cocky athlete.”
“Jagger’s not cocky.” Misty wipes her mouth as I shoot her a look. “I mean, yeah, he is, but not in an obnoxious way like Lawrence, who thinks he’s a gift to womankind.”
I can’t argue there. All three of the Cruz brothers know they’re good-looking, charming, and rich, but they don’t go around flaunting any of those things. The credit definitely goes to their parents, who made them get regular jobs at fourteen and pay for their own expenses. Even though I’ve always poked fun at them for having someone who does their laundry and cleans up after them, I can’t really say much about their responsibility. Not even I had a job before and sure my parents are well off, but it’s not like they’re MLB contract loaded.
“I saw Mitch the other day.”
“Oh?” Misty focuses on the sandwich she’s suddenly deconstructing.
“Yeah, you know, at the barbecue you skipped out on last minute.”
“I was busy.”
“So you said.”
“Are you calling me a liar?” She glances up at me.
“I think you probably knew Mitch would be there and you wanted to avoid him.” I let out a laugh. “Which is interesting to say the least. A hot guy who will for sure play pro baseball, because that’s all Dad talks about these days, I mean . . . ” I blink rapidly. “Sign me up.”
“I thought you were done with athletes.”
“College athletes.” I pick up the rag and keep wiping the bar. “I’d consider dating a major leaguer.”
“You’d consider it.” She laughs, shaking her head. “You’re such a clown. Let me know when you start getting offers from major leaguers.”
“I will.” I stick my tongue out at her and walk to the other side of the bar, still wiping, before serving her another water. “Has Mom said what we’re doing for Thanksgiving this year?”
“No, but Greece is a definite no-go. Dad booked a surgery that Wednesday.” Misty rolls her eyes. “I swear he’s a workaholic.”
“Well, him being a workaholic affords us some pretty cool stuff. Like that Chanel bag.” I jut my chin toward the black bag on the bar.
“This was a graduation present, thank you very much.”
“Yeah, because all high school graduates are given a freaking four-thousand-dollar present.”
“You got a car.” She raises an eyebrow.
“Which you’re currently driving.”
“Only because you decided to get a DUI while driving and then crashing a freaking Maserati, Jo.” She shakes her head. “I seriously always thought I’d be the one to screw up big, but that’s kind of unattainable on the level of screw-ups.”
“I know. You don’t need to remind me.”
“Dad literally spent as much money as he spent on this bag to make sure your record would be expunged, so technically you could have gotten one of these bags too, maybe even two of them.”
“Okay. I get it.” I swallow. The door that leads to the kitchen opens and we both snap our heads to see Uncle Adrian walking through.
“Hey. My favorite nieces.” He walks over and pulls me into a quick hug before reaching over and tapping Misty on the head once. “You finally decided to get smart and have lunch here instead of spending your money elsewhere.”
“Yeah, but unless you want me to have a heart attack by age forty, I’ll probably go back to my overpriced green shakes and acai bowls.”
“You trying to say my food is unhealthy?” He raises an eyebrow. “Don’t let your grandmother hear you talking like that. She loves Lucia’s food.”
“Oh, Nana knows,” I say. “Why do you think she never invites Misty to dinner anymore?”
“She invites me.” Misty frowns.
“No, she doesn’t.” I smile.
“So, listen, Maverick Cruz is here now, and your father wanted to do a proper welcome party for him since he did it for Jagger and Mitchell,” Uncle Adrian says. “I’m going to need you to close up now and come back at five.”
“Tonight?”
“Yep.” He glances over at Misty. “I would love it if you could help. It’ll be easy, just setting plates in front of people and picking them up. The bar will be open, but they’ll have to come up to get their own drinks if they want anything besides water.”
“I can’t help.” Misty’s eyes widen. “I mean, I can’t.”
“Why not? It’s eleven-thirty. If you’re sitting here, I’m assuming you don’t have class today.”
“I don’t.”
“So what’s keeping you busy?” Uncle Adrian raises an eyebrow, but before my sister can even think of an answer, he says, “I need you here tonight, Mist. Have I ever asked you for a favor?”