Anything for You
Page 31
“I do, indeed.”
He began with the carrots, four of them across, the rhythm of the knife underscoring his words, the slices wafer-thin. “So. Do your thing with me.”
“What? Seriously? You want me to find you a woman?”
“Inside voice, please.”
“So you are straight, then.” She grinned.
“Just do it. Find someone nice.”
“Marriage nice?”
He glanced at her. “Yeah. What? Don’t look at me that way. I want to get married. As long as it’s not a disgusting sappy mess like you and Lucas.”
“Soon-to-be-born child of mine, ignore your Uncle Idiot. He’s jealous of Mommy and Daddy’s wedded bliss. Sure, I’ll find you someone. Jessica Dunn.”
“Not her.”
“Why?”
Connor was careful not to make eye contact. “We’re just friends. She’s not my type.”
“Because she was a slut in high school? Who cares?”
“It’s not that. She’s just not my type.”
“How can that be? I’d sleep with her, and I’m straight. We’re talking about Jessica Dunn here, Con.”
He didn’t answer. Didn’t look at her. Just kept slicing those sweet little carrots.
Colleen covered her mouth with one hand. “Hail Mary, full of grace, you’ve already dated her, you lying liar of lie-land! Why don’t you marry her, then?”
He grabbed another four carrots, cut off the ends and began dicing again, the knife making a satisfying rhythm against the cutting board.
“Oh, Connor,” his sister whispered. “She turned you down?”
“Moving on,” he said.
“Are you heartbroken?”
“Colleen, let’s not do this, okay?”
“But you—”
“No.” Thunkthunkthunkthunk.
“I could—”
“Absolutely not.” Another leek, slit, turn, dice.
Colleen scootched herself up on the counter. “Would it kill you to sit on a stool?” he asked. “I’m cooking here.”
“Are you okay?”
He stopped chopping. Looked at his twin. “Yes. Thanks. I’d just like to meet a nice woman and get married.”
“Do you love her?”
“Shut up.”
“Connor...”
“You know what? I can register on Match.com.”
Her mouth dropped open. “How dare you! Fine. Be your normal constipated self. You want someone, the ground rules are, you have to do what I say.”
“You know what? Forget it.”
“No! I’ll never forget it! And I’ll do a good job, I promise. But you have to listen to me, all right?”
“You’ll be serious, right? No freak shows.”
“Of course!” she said so emphatically that he immediately distrusted her. “But love can be deceptive at first glance, dear boy, so if I tell you to ask someone out, you have to do it and trust your big sister.”
“You’re my little sister.”
She sighed. “By three minutes, and yet so much wiser in the ways of the world. So that’s my deal. Take it or leave it. Just remember that I have something like twenty couples to my credit. If you’re tired of being pathetic and alone, you have to listen to me. Deal?”
“Deal.”
It wasn’t what he wanted. He wanted to be telling Colleen that Jess would be her sister-in-law, because Colleen really liked Jessica, always had. He wanted to tell his sister she’d be his best person, just as she’d predicted last fall at her own wedding.
But he wasn’t going to spend his thirties the same way he’d spent most of his twenties, waiting for Jessica to let him off the sidelines and into her life.
He had a little pride, after all.
Colleen was still staring at him, her eyebrows puckered. Luckily for Connor, the kitchen door swung open.
“Hola, mia.” Colleen’s husband came into the kitchen and kissed her. Connor winced.
“Not in my kitchen,” he said. “I’m holding a big knife, Lucas, and you did knock my sister up.”
“True, true.” He kissed Colleen again then put his hand on her stomach.
“Connor wants to get married,” Colleen told him.
“Marriage is great.” Lucas smiled and kissed Colleen again.
“Stop it! Jesus. Get out of my kitchen, both of you.”
Colleen paused at the swinging doors. “I’ll find you someone great, Con,” she said in a rare moment of sincerity.
He nodded. This would be good. Almost like an arranged marriage. No work required on his part, just show up and smile.
Jess didn’t want him, and that was fine.
His knife slipped, slicing into the tip of his thumb, and a thin red line of blood appeared.
CHAPTER TEN
BY THE TIME Jess got home after work, her head was pounding. And she had to go right back out, because the nice Hollands were wining and dining her.
Her and Marcy, that was.
Her first impression of her new coworker wasn’t great. The voice, for one—it could cut glass. The self-praise, for two... To be honest, Jess envied people with that much self-confidence. She had no idea what it would be like to walk into a very cool job and have no worries that she could handle it, that her employers would like and appreciate her, that she wouldn’t get fired. It had taken her months to relax at Blue Heron. Today she’d seen Marcy with her feet up on her desk, bellowing laughter into the phone.
All that being said, she had faith that Honor had hired someone competent.
“Davey, do you want to go to O’Rourke’s for dinner tonight?” she asked.
“Can I have nachos and chili?” he asked. Somehow, he’d never really put two and two together and didn’t realize that his archenemy owned the restaurant. He loved Colleen. All men did. Either he didn’t realize Connor worked in the kitchen, or it was an out of sight, out of mind thing. Jessica wasn’t about to ask.
“Sure,” she said. “There’ll be a bunch of us. The Hollands are taking me out. I got a promotion today.” And a raise. A significant raise. The thought still made her flush.
“What’s a promotion?”
“It means I have my own office,” she said, swallowing some ibuprofen. “You can come see it this weekend, okay?”
“Okay. So a promotion is good?”
“Very good. It’s your boss saying you’re doing a great job, so now you can do other stuff, too.”
“Will I get a promotion? I do a great job.”
“You probably will, then.” Jess would have to ask Petra, the manager at Keuka Candle, to give Davey—and all the special-needs workers—a certificate or a sleeve of stickers. The company was great that way.
“I need another picture of you,” she said, smoothing back his blond hair. “I have to decorate my office a little bit.” Not with a ficus tree and a couch, but with something.
“I can decorate your office!” he said. “Wait right here!” He ran up the stairs.
“Put on a clean shirt!” she called. Thumping noises came from his room, then he pummeled down the stairs—honestly, it always sounded like he was falling.
He began with the carrots, four of them across, the rhythm of the knife underscoring his words, the slices wafer-thin. “So. Do your thing with me.”
“What? Seriously? You want me to find you a woman?”
“Inside voice, please.”
“So you are straight, then.” She grinned.
“Just do it. Find someone nice.”
“Marriage nice?”
He glanced at her. “Yeah. What? Don’t look at me that way. I want to get married. As long as it’s not a disgusting sappy mess like you and Lucas.”
“Soon-to-be-born child of mine, ignore your Uncle Idiot. He’s jealous of Mommy and Daddy’s wedded bliss. Sure, I’ll find you someone. Jessica Dunn.”
“Not her.”
“Why?”
Connor was careful not to make eye contact. “We’re just friends. She’s not my type.”
“Because she was a slut in high school? Who cares?”
“It’s not that. She’s just not my type.”
“How can that be? I’d sleep with her, and I’m straight. We’re talking about Jessica Dunn here, Con.”
He didn’t answer. Didn’t look at her. Just kept slicing those sweet little carrots.
Colleen covered her mouth with one hand. “Hail Mary, full of grace, you’ve already dated her, you lying liar of lie-land! Why don’t you marry her, then?”
He grabbed another four carrots, cut off the ends and began dicing again, the knife making a satisfying rhythm against the cutting board.
“Oh, Connor,” his sister whispered. “She turned you down?”
“Moving on,” he said.
“Are you heartbroken?”
“Colleen, let’s not do this, okay?”
“But you—”
“No.” Thunkthunkthunkthunk.
“I could—”
“Absolutely not.” Another leek, slit, turn, dice.
Colleen scootched herself up on the counter. “Would it kill you to sit on a stool?” he asked. “I’m cooking here.”
“Are you okay?”
He stopped chopping. Looked at his twin. “Yes. Thanks. I’d just like to meet a nice woman and get married.”
“Do you love her?”
“Shut up.”
“Connor...”
“You know what? I can register on Match.com.”
Her mouth dropped open. “How dare you! Fine. Be your normal constipated self. You want someone, the ground rules are, you have to do what I say.”
“You know what? Forget it.”
“No! I’ll never forget it! And I’ll do a good job, I promise. But you have to listen to me, all right?”
“You’ll be serious, right? No freak shows.”
“Of course!” she said so emphatically that he immediately distrusted her. “But love can be deceptive at first glance, dear boy, so if I tell you to ask someone out, you have to do it and trust your big sister.”
“You’re my little sister.”
She sighed. “By three minutes, and yet so much wiser in the ways of the world. So that’s my deal. Take it or leave it. Just remember that I have something like twenty couples to my credit. If you’re tired of being pathetic and alone, you have to listen to me. Deal?”
“Deal.”
It wasn’t what he wanted. He wanted to be telling Colleen that Jess would be her sister-in-law, because Colleen really liked Jessica, always had. He wanted to tell his sister she’d be his best person, just as she’d predicted last fall at her own wedding.
But he wasn’t going to spend his thirties the same way he’d spent most of his twenties, waiting for Jessica to let him off the sidelines and into her life.
He had a little pride, after all.
Colleen was still staring at him, her eyebrows puckered. Luckily for Connor, the kitchen door swung open.
“Hola, mia.” Colleen’s husband came into the kitchen and kissed her. Connor winced.
“Not in my kitchen,” he said. “I’m holding a big knife, Lucas, and you did knock my sister up.”
“True, true.” He kissed Colleen again then put his hand on her stomach.
“Connor wants to get married,” Colleen told him.
“Marriage is great.” Lucas smiled and kissed Colleen again.
“Stop it! Jesus. Get out of my kitchen, both of you.”
Colleen paused at the swinging doors. “I’ll find you someone great, Con,” she said in a rare moment of sincerity.
He nodded. This would be good. Almost like an arranged marriage. No work required on his part, just show up and smile.
Jess didn’t want him, and that was fine.
His knife slipped, slicing into the tip of his thumb, and a thin red line of blood appeared.
CHAPTER TEN
BY THE TIME Jess got home after work, her head was pounding. And she had to go right back out, because the nice Hollands were wining and dining her.
Her and Marcy, that was.
Her first impression of her new coworker wasn’t great. The voice, for one—it could cut glass. The self-praise, for two... To be honest, Jess envied people with that much self-confidence. She had no idea what it would be like to walk into a very cool job and have no worries that she could handle it, that her employers would like and appreciate her, that she wouldn’t get fired. It had taken her months to relax at Blue Heron. Today she’d seen Marcy with her feet up on her desk, bellowing laughter into the phone.
All that being said, she had faith that Honor had hired someone competent.
“Davey, do you want to go to O’Rourke’s for dinner tonight?” she asked.
“Can I have nachos and chili?” he asked. Somehow, he’d never really put two and two together and didn’t realize that his archenemy owned the restaurant. He loved Colleen. All men did. Either he didn’t realize Connor worked in the kitchen, or it was an out of sight, out of mind thing. Jessica wasn’t about to ask.
“Sure,” she said. “There’ll be a bunch of us. The Hollands are taking me out. I got a promotion today.” And a raise. A significant raise. The thought still made her flush.
“What’s a promotion?”
“It means I have my own office,” she said, swallowing some ibuprofen. “You can come see it this weekend, okay?”
“Okay. So a promotion is good?”
“Very good. It’s your boss saying you’re doing a great job, so now you can do other stuff, too.”
“Will I get a promotion? I do a great job.”
“You probably will, then.” Jess would have to ask Petra, the manager at Keuka Candle, to give Davey—and all the special-needs workers—a certificate or a sleeve of stickers. The company was great that way.
“I need another picture of you,” she said, smoothing back his blond hair. “I have to decorate my office a little bit.” Not with a ficus tree and a couch, but with something.
“I can decorate your office!” he said. “Wait right here!” He ran up the stairs.
“Put on a clean shirt!” she called. Thumping noises came from his room, then he pummeled down the stairs—honestly, it always sounded like he was falling.
