Page 7 of Devious Obsession
“Yeah. Perfect.” I push on a brighter smile then take care of the next customer.
As my shift drags on, my feet throb and the soft ache that was creeping up in the back of my head has blown up into a full headache. I need sleep. Good, rock-hard sleep.
“So, about tonight,” Mandy says, wiping the counter down next to where I’m restocking cups.
“Thanks for the invite, but I’m getting a headache. I’m going to go home and crash.”
She narrows her eyes on me. “You do look a little gray.”
“Stop. You’re going to give me a huge ego if you keep up with all these compliments.” I crumple the plastic wrapping in my hands.
She laughs. “I’m sorry. You’re gorgeous, you know that, but you do look like you need to sleep for a week. Were you up all night? With a guy maybe?” She nudges me.
I blurt out a laugh before I can stop myself.
Because of a guy, but not with one. But I can’t tell her that. As good of friends we’ve become over the past month, there’s a lot about myself that I keep to myself. Having dated a man who was using me to try to kill my entire family is one of those things.
“No.”
“You stayed up all night stitching.” She pulls a face, which makes me laugh.
“I knew I shouldn’t have told you about that.”
“Why? I’m not judging. I mean what beautiful, single, twenty-three-year-old wouldn’t rather stay home doing needlepoint when she could be out dancing and meeting hot men?”
“But you’re not judging.” I roll my eyes playfully. “I told you, it’s just a stress reliever.” My mom used to do needle point when I was little. She said it helped her relax.
Too busy counting my stitches to think about all the bad stuff in the world.She’d said. I’d made fun, saying it was an old woman’s hobby. But like everything when it came to my mom’s advice, she was right, and I was wrong.
“I’m not judging. I’m just trying to get you out for some fun,” Mandy assures me.
A text message notification diverts my attention from her. A message from Megan. My sister in-law has been patient—well, as patient as she’s capable of being—and giving me the space I told her I needed, but I think she’s reached her limit.
Call Kaz. Let him know you’re all right.
The mention of Kaz makes my neck muscles tense.
Is he okay? What’s going on?I shoot back.
Three dots dance, then stop, then dance again. In the end, a photo comes through.
It’s my brother, the youngest of the three, standing at an altar in a church. The photo was taken at his wedding.
“Ooh, now he’s hot. Who’s that?” Mandy leans over my phone.
“Ew. It’s my brother.” I nudge her.
“That’s your brother?” She blurts out the question a little too loud, and the customer in the corner of the cafe looks up from her laptop.
I’m aware of the effect all of my brothers have on women. As their little sister, I’m required to be repulsed by anyone thinking of them ashot, but I’m not blind. They’re good-looking.
As good looking an older, overprotective, annoyingly in my business all the time brother can look, anyway.
“Sorry, it’s just…shit, Elana, he’s really hot.” Mandy sighs. “Not that Stone isn’t, it’s just?—”
“It’s okay, Mandy. I know what you mean.” I squeeze her arm. She’s dated Stone since high school. Not even a tornado sweeping between them could split them up.
“Is that his wedding picture?” She taps my phone.
