Ruthless Rival

"Shopping," I say.

"I barely ever take you shopping." Opal finishes the tea. Presents the mug to Vanessa. "We don't have dairy. Only coconut and almond."

"Which do you prefer?" she asks.

"Coconut. Hands down. But it's intense. Straight from the can."

"Let's do it," Vanessa says.

Opal finds the can, fills the mug, hands it off to Vanessa.

"Thank you." Vanessa inhales the scent of the tea. Lets out a soft sigh. She takes a long sip. Lets out a longer sigh. "Intense. Good intense."

Opal beams. "I make breakfast too."

"You do?" she asks.

"My mom worked a lot. I cooked for us," she says. "And Simon… totally hopeless in the kitchen."

"You are?" she asks.

"Hopeless is overstating it," I say.

"Terrible," Opal says. "He can fry eggs, butter toast, maybe sear a steak. That's all."

"Lee can't cook either," Vanessa says.

"Can you?" Opal asks. "Or will you two hire someone to cook for you?"

I shoot her a don't look.

She shrugs why not?

"I'm okay," Vanessa says. "Not great, but not bad. I don't have time to cook. I use a service."

"We do too," Opal says.

"Simon told me."

"He gives me his dessert," Opal says.

"He told me that too." Vanessa looks at me with appreciation. "Let's go out."

"Can we do bagels?" Opal asks.

"I love bagels," Vanessa says.

"Good taste." Opal looks at her leggings. "I should shower. Then we can go. Or do you two need more time? I don't mind a solo bagel."

Vanessa looks at me expectantly. Asking what I want.

I want to spend the day with her.

I don't care about the details.

Is that love?

Or something else?

"Maybe later," Vanessa says. "I'm starving."

"Ten minutes?" Opal asks.

"Make it fifteen," Vanessa says.

Opal raises a brow I know what that means, but she doesn't say anything. She skips to the bathroom.

Vanessa rises to her tiptoes and presses her lips to mine.

She melts into me.

A long, slow kiss.

All need and affection.

She pulls back with a sigh. "She's sweet."

"Overbearing in her own way."

"Yeah, but not compared to you." She takes my hand. "Show me where these clothes are."

I lead her to the bedroom.

To the dresser filled with items for her.

"Shit. Is this why Opal takes you shopping?" She holds up a purple bra in her size. "This is a lot."

"Too much?"

"No." She checks the tag. "How do you know my sizes?"

"I asked your assistant."

"No wonder she knew we were fucking."

"She knew before I asked."

"Really?"

"Said it was practically written on your calendar."

"It did say Pierce dinner."

"Case closed," I say.

She laughs. "In her eyes." She looks up at me, searching for something, finding it. "I have work tonight. A gala. I have a plus-one. I was going to bring Lee, but she's ovulating, and she doesn't want to leave the apartment. Just in case."

"She told you that?"

"I wish that was all she told me."

I smile. "I'm your plan B?"

"More like plan D."

"Plan D, specifically?"

She laughs. "You sound like your brother."

"I do, don't I?"

She nods. "I kind of like it." She hooks her arms around my neck. "Simon Pierce, obsessed with his cock."

"I'm obsessed?"

"Yes."

"You don't care?"

"Not at all."

"If I decided not to use it for a while…"

"Don't say crazy things."

"Crazy, huh?"

"Simon." She lets out a soft squeal. "You're…" She kisses me again. "Go. Or I won't get dressed."

"You don't have to get dressed."

"I do. I want a bagel."

"Turned down for a bagel."

"You didn't mean it. You'd never ask your sister to wait."

I wouldn't. She's right.

"But maybe… no, I have to go back home tonight. Check on my friend."

"Is he okay alone?"

"They're occupied."

There's something there, something she isn't saying.

But I don't call her on it.

I trust her.

I give her the room to change. Then I put on my outfit for the day.

Join my sister and Vanessa in the living room.

Their jaws drop.

"No fucking way," Opal says.

Vanessa laughs. "I guess you proved it." She runs her fingers over my brand new Taylor Swift t-shirt. And my jeans. "Simon Pierce, man of the people."

"I try," I say.

"You're not really wearing that, are you?" Opal asks.

"Why not?" I ask.

"Really, Simon?" Opal asks. "I have the same t-shirt!"

"Your call." I turn to Vanessa.

"Sorry, Opal. It suits him," she says. "It really does."

Chapter Thirty-Two

SIMON

Opal glares at my outfit for the entire walk to the bagel shop. The second she sips her coffee, she drops the irritation and launches into a long story about a family trip to the Caribbean.

I spent the entire time working. I sat on the beach in my suit.

And when she finally convinced me to wear something else?

It was so horrifying she can't even speak of it now.

Vanessa listens with a smile. She's quiet, content to soak in the information and give Opal the floor.

She's like me that way.

No, she's better.

More considerate. More thoughtful. More willing to listen.

Not as patient when it comes to waiting to strike, maybe—

But that's another virtue. She's more willing to talk.

She told me about her parents, her issues.

I talked about Bash's death, yes, but not the gritty details. Not the truly fucked-up shit.