Page 233 of A Taste of Vanilla

She takes another breath. “After you ended things with Grant, Caroline was angry first. Publicly, I mean. She cared about the wedding optics. The venue. The guest list. Her friends askingquestions.” Elise looks down. “Grant was angry too, but not in the same way.”

My hands ball into fists. “How was he angry?”

“He kept saying you were trying to embarrass him.”

A laugh leaves me. “I walked in on him with you.”

She flinches. “I know.”

“Go on.”

Elise looks at the folder again. “Barrett was more strategic. He told Grant not to contact you directly after you blocked him because it would make him look desperate. He said if you wanted to turn the breakup into a spectacle, the best response was to make you look unstable.”

My pulse thrums hard enough to shake me.

I meet Warren’s gaze for just a second.

Elise’s voice grows quiet. “Grant told him about the latte names. The chalkboard. The social posts you made. He sent screenshots.”

“Screenshots of what?”

“Anything. Anything that made you look like you were using what happened for attention.”

I stare at her.

Men Are Decorative at Best Latte. The Legacy Latte. Sweetness Is Not a Weakness. The Vanilla Proof. Everything I made to keep myself afloat. Everything customers loved and that I worked so hard for. Everything that made me feel safe.

Like I could turn humiliation into something beautiful.

Grant had been watching.

I look at the folder again. “And Barrett used it,” I say flatly.

She nods.

“For the review.”

“Yes.” Her eyes fill with tears, and she blinks hard. “He knew what it would do.”

Some part of me knew from the headline. No one writes something like that without expecting it to beat someone down. But knowing without proof allows for doubt. Maybe I hadoverreacted. Maybe he revisits every place he’s reviewed after a certain amount of time, and mine was just unfortunate timing. Maybe Barrett was just being honest. Maybe I’d only made it personal because I was hurt and loud and unstable, exactly as Grant said.

Having proof is different.

“I overheard a call where Barrett said people forgive a messy man faster than a messy woman. He said if the review was too harsh, people would defend you. So it needed to be restrained. Plausible. About discipline to make it look like you left because you were lacking, or Grant left because you weren’t serious enough.”

Not for the first time, I feel as if I’ve been punched in the gut.

My vision blurs, and I blink it away.

I pick up the folder, my fingers steady.

Inside are printed emails, forwarded links, screenshots of text chains. Grant’s messages are short and polished and concerned.

She’s not taking the breakup well. Trying to make everything public. I’m worried Bitter Bloom is becoming an extension of the situation.

Another.

She’s always been impulsive. It used to be charming. Now I’m concerned she’s making choices that will hurt both of us.