Casanova(38)

“I do not want to talk about this!”

“Hello?” Camille’s voice echoed from the front door. “Can I come in?”

I walked to the kitchen doorway and looked through into the hallway. She already had got one foot inside the door, so I smiled and said, “You’re already halfway there.”

She shrugged and came in properly, shutting the door behind her with a light push. “Brett texted me and told me he pulled an asshole move again. What did he do this time?”

Connie tickled the corner of my mouth. “He kissed her. Again.”

“Again?” Camille looked between us both before she settled on me. “Damn it. I told him to quit that shit.”

“So did I,” I ground out and went to the fridge. I was hungry, damn it. And I wanted cookie dough, because cookie dough always made it better. “Earlier today, in fact. He’s simply incapable of respecting boundaries. How am I supposed to be around him if he can’t even not smack my ass?”

“If I were a guy I’d smack your ass,” Connie said.

“Ew, gross.” I flicked a chocolate chip from the dough at her.

Camille sat the table and propped her chin up in her hand. “Lani, when was the last time you had a night out?”

I paused, my hand in the cutlery drawer. “Um...a while?” Like a year, actually. I lived too far out of L.A. to make it worth having a night out, and where I lived, there were no decent bars.

“How long is a while?”

“Too long?” I guessed. The cutlery in the drawer clinked when I knocked the drawer shut with my hip. “I’m not a going out person, okay?”

“And that’s why you’ve been single for four years,” Connie stated.

“No, I’ve been single for four years because I like being single.”

“When was the last time you got laid?”

“Six months ago.”

She throws her arms up. “Case in point. Now give me that.” She sat down and snatched the cookie dough from me. “Ooh, the spoon too.”

“What the hell?” I asked.

She dug in without consideration for me.

Nice. My lips still stung from where Brett had kissed me twice, I was conflicted with guilt over telling Mr. Reeves I’d do what he wanted, and now I couldn’t even get cookie dough. Not to mention that if I said anything, she’d pull the pregnancy card.

Sigh...Being a good sister was so hard sometimes.

“Let’s go out tonight,” Camille said. She practically bounced out of her seat as she met my eyes. “Come on, please? Except for when we did lunch, I’ve been working my ass off all week. I have tomorrow morning off”

“Go,” Connie said around a mouthful of food. “Go have some fun.”

Saying no now would only lead to me having to fight a battle I knew I’d ultimately lose. “Fine. Where and when?”

Camille grinned and clapped her hands. “Nine tonight at Dirty.”

“Dirty?” That was a new place. I didn’t remember it.

“The best cocktail bar in town.” Her grin turned wicked.

I was so going to regret this.





My phone buzzed as I waved Connie goodbye and got out of her car. She’d designated herself my driver—even if she was going home to watch Netflix now. I stepped onto the sidewalk and pulled it out of my clutch.



Brett: You’re going drinking with my sister?

Me: Sorry, Dad. Did I need your permission?

Brett: Funny.

Me: I thought so.

Brett: Be careful. Our bed and breakfast by the harbor just took a last minute bachelor party booking because their hotel in Key West overbooked them.

Me: I don’t imagine they’ll be interested in a cocktail bar.

Brett: You’ve never seen a cocktail bar like Dirty...

Me: What does that mean?



He didn’t reply as quickly as his previous messages, so I hit ‘reply’ again, but I was interrupted by Camille’s arrival. Like me, she was wearing jeans and heels, and I was glad. I’d spent long enough deciding what I should wear. At least now I wasn’t worried that I was under or overdressed.

“What does this mean?” I shoved my phone screen in Camille’s face before she could say anything.

She squinted, taking it from me. “Oh no.”

“Oh no? That doesn’t sound like I want to hear what you have to say next.”

She pushed my phone back toward me with a grimace. “I knew I shouldn’t have told him I was going out with you.”

I wasn’t moving, but I froze anyway. “No,” I said. “No, no, no.”

“Yes.” Her hair bounced with her wince. “He’s probably already here. Just to be really annoying.”

“Then do we have to stay?”

“Yes! It’ll be fine. I swear. If he bugs you, Raven will kick his ass out. Promise.”

“Who’s Raven?”

“She owns the bar and makes the best damn cocktails in the world. They’re pretty much all her own recipes or twists on classic ones.” Camille grabbed my hands. “Pleeeease. I promise Brett will leave us alone.”

“Fine, but we’re dealing with this right away.” I shook my hands out of her grip and unlocked my phone.