Page 41 of Revenge Puck

“I worry about you, sweetie. You’re so different from your brother.”

I know this.

All you have to do is stick us side by side and anyone can see it.

“Well,” she says. “Speaking of your brother, I talked to him yesterday. He sounded so exhausted. Poor thing is under so much pressure lately.”

Of course she did.

And just like that, the excitement I felt five seconds ago flickers and fades at the mention of his name. If my mother finds out I’m having dinner with Aaron Bishop, she will mention it to Declan the next time they’re on the phone.

“I’m sure he’s exhausted. They’re mid-season.”

“Maybe you should call him tomorrow,” she suggests. “He always appreciates hearing from you.”

I roll my eyes. “Mm-hmm.”

Declan is a grown man who does not need constant check-ins.

“He looked fine to me when I ran into him at the office,” I reiterate.

Agitated, but fine.

I twist the cap onto my mascara, my attention drifting back to the mirror while she continues chatting. About groceries. About the neighbor’s new rescue dog crapping in my parents’ yard. I murmur my responses, brain somewhere else.

All I can think about now is the fact that I’m standing in my bathroom getting ready to have dinner with one of Declan’s teammates, with whom I should not be dining.

And if my mother tells my brother…

“Juliette?”

“Sorry,” I say quickly. “Still here. Trying to stay on task so I’m not late.”

“Don’t stay out too late, it’s not the weekend,” she says as if I were in high school and it was a school night. “And if he’s not a gentleman, you don’t have to stay. And you don’t have to see him again.”

I almost laugh. Little does she know, I’m the type of woman who walks out on a man who isn’t behaving like a gentleman.

“I’ll keep that in mind, Mom.” I smile at my reflection to punctuate my sentence, but that fades as a new thought enters my mind. If I have to hide this from my own family, maybe that’s a sign. Maybe this is the kind of complication I should avoid.

“This is not who I am,” I whisper.

“Sorry?” my mother says. “What was that?”

“Nothing.”Nothing.This is just me, being an awful person and a terrible employee, all for a good-looking man who will probably never speak to me again after tonight.

Do not throw it all away for a guy.

“I was talking to myself.”

She laughs, blissfully unaware of my inner turmoil. “Alright, I’ll let you go. Have fun tonight.”

“I will.”

“And call your brother tomorrow.”

Yeah, yeah, yeah.

I stare at the phone in my hand once we disconnect, tempted to message my brother and ask for Aaron’s number so I can cancel our plans.