The Bluff (Graham Brothers, #2)(6)

“Nope.”

I’m not sad, but I am something. What I am is a creeping, heavy kind of feeling I’ve never been able to identify by name. It hits me every so often, not always for reasons I can name, though today its origin is obvious. I call it feeling oily, and mostly, I do a good job hiding it from everyone else.

“Then, I guess I’m not sorry,” Val says, hopping up on the stool nearest me. “Is that okay? I never liked Dale.”

She and Lindy have made it pretty clear they weren’t Dale’s biggest fans. Or fans at all. Ugh. I absolutely should always listen to my friends.

Val’s expression turns a little wicked. “Now you’re freed up for a little workplace romance.”

Forget what I said. I should absolutely NEVER listen to my friends.

“Rebound much?”

Val waves this off. “Nah. You’d have needed to really like Dale for James to be a rebound. If we’re going to be totally honest here, I think you were just with Dale because you’re scared to let yourself fall in love. So, you dated someone you knew you’d never fall for.”

I want to protest, but isn’t that essentially what I just admitted to myself? What’s wrong with me? Why am I building a safe life? Why am I not seeking a job or a man I’m passionate about?

Val leans over, giving my arm a squeeze. “Are you feeling okay though? I mean, it’s still a breakup. You need to process.”

“Weirdly, I’m really okay. I care more that Dale didn’t care.”

Val frowns. “He wasn’t upset? Because, let’s be honest, you’re way out of his league, chica.”

“Aw, thanks. But nope. When I told him I wanted to end things, he just said fine. And then he told me he was planning to break up with me because he met someone.”

“He cheated?” Steam practically explodes out of Val’s ears.

“I … don’t know. He didn’t specify.”

And honestly, I’d rather not know. Cheating is never good. But I have my own reasons for being even more upset by the idea. Ones I don’t want to think about, much less discuss with Val.

“Then I won’t specify all the ways I’ll kill him if he did,” she says.

“You can only kill someone once, Valentina.”

“Minor detail. Enough about Dale.” She swipes her palms together. “Let’s brush him off. Come on, chica. Brush, brush, brush.”

I roll my eyes. “Do I have to do hand motions?”

“Yes. The connection between mind and body is important. Brush him off, Winnie.”

“Are you sure we shouldn’t be shaking him off?”

Val glares. “Brush.”

Though Val usually isn’t pushy, when she is, it’s best not to push back. So, feeling ridiculous, I dramatically brush my hands together along with Val. I’m giggling by the time I’m done, and she grins broadly.

“See? Much better. Next time, you will choose more wisely. You need someone you can really care about. Someone who makes you feel.”

I hate the way an image of James, glaring at me, pops right into mind. Wrong kind of feeling, brain.

“You need passion. You want love.”

I make the sound of a buzzer. “I want … nothing. Solitude. Celibacy. Peace.”

“Bor-ing. Also, that doesn’t sound like you, chica. You’re a fire, but you’ve been hiding it. Or hiding from it. You need someone who burns as brightly as you.” Val jumps to her feet, dark eyes bright.

“Fire sounds dangerous.”

“Fire sounds like life,” Val says, spinning in a circle, hair lifting and fluttering around her. “Don’t you want to live?”

Yeah, okay. Maybe a little cozy fire would be nice. If it stays in the fireplace, where it belongs. A contained and controlled fire, able to be managed with one of those iron pokers and hidden behind a metal screen when it gets to be too much.

That’s not the fire you want, and you know it.

If my mind zips straight to James again, it’s only because the man inspires a different kind of fire in me. Irritation, for one. And a newly kindled fire of curiosity, which has me wanting to figure out the man behind the grouch. It’s not the kind of passion Val is talking about. It’s definitely not, and will never be, love.

“Can I drop you off at the birthday party?” Val asks.

Speaking of my surly boss … Today is his birthday. Which I definitely didn’t know when I gave him a decidedly NOT-birthday card. I wondered about the strange look on his face, but thought it was just because giving your boss a card on your first day is, well, strange. Thinking back to this morning and how I behaved makes me want to crawl into a storm drain. Of all the dumb ideas, gifting my boss a first-day-of-work card (and let’s not forget the seed) on his actual birthday ranks pretty high.

I only found out it was James’s birthday when my brother texted me about the party. Chevy got the invite directly from Tank, who asked him to pass it on to me. I know James had nothing to do with it. He’d probably skip out on his own party if he knew I’d be there.

Which, honestly, is part of the appeal of going. Even after I made myself look like a fool this morning, giving the man a seed.

“It’s already started.”

“Better late than never.”