I Hate, I Bake, and I Don’t Date! by Alina Jacobs
48
Tess
My entire weekend had been ruined by my stepsister’s message. I spent it stress eating, but it didn’t help. I couldn’t even have a replay of my not-date hookup with Beck because I was so furious.
Why now? Why was she contacting me now?
“You need to clap back,” Maeve instructed. “You should have done it right when she texted you. You know, tell her that you actually already came around Beck’s cock so, oops, looks like he’s taken.”
“That probably would have just egged her on. I’m hoping she’ll just go away.” I took a big sip of my coffee. Because it was an emergency, I had opted for an extra-large pistachio vanilla latte with whipped cream and honeycomb sprinkles.
“This is a good thing,” Maeve said. “For once in your life, your stepsister is jealous of you, not the other way around! Enjoy it! It’s karma!”
“It feels like a big bucket of ice water is about to fall on me.”
“You need to show off Beck.”
“It’s fake.”
“You said you two had sex.”
“I think that’s because he didn’t have any other options, and I have poor decision-making skills,” I said into my coffee.
I was stressed. I needed pasta. I had brought some leftovers for lunch. It was ten in the morning, but what better to eat for second breakfast than cheesy, creamy gnocchi and spring peas?
“Are you going to share some of that pasta?” Maeve hinted, following me into the break-room kitchen.
“I just don’t know if there’s enough,” I said.
“Girl, you sent me a picture of it this morning when you packed your lunch, and it was enough pasta for multiple full-grown men.”
“I’m having a rough week.”
“It’s Monday.”
“Like I said… a rough week.”
And it was about to get even rougher. Because even though I had hidden my lunch way in the back of the fridge and it was only ten in the morning, my food was gone.
“Mother f—” I clenched my fists. I needed that pasta. “How am I going to get through the day?”
“You always were a food addict.”
For fucking—
“Shannyn.” I glared at my stepsister. “Are you stalking me?”
“Calm down! I’m here visiting my bestie.” My stepsister waved a hand glittering with expensive jewelry at Cressida, who was standing next to her.
Cressida raised an eyebrow.
“I can’t believe you’re sleeping with your boss,” Shannyn drawled, looking at her nails. “Though that’s totally on-brand for you. You had a crush on our art teacher in school and stalked the poor man.”
“No, I didn’t!” I said, indignant. “That was a rumor you made up because you’re an awful person!”
Maeve grabbed my arm. “Come on,” she urged. “Let’s go see if Holly can replace your lunch.”
“Oh, that was yours?” Cressida asked in feigned innocence. She smirked. “I thought it was garbage someone was leaving in the fridge, so I threw it out.”
My eye was twitching. “You threw out my pasta…”
“Oops.”
Maeve hauled me out of the break-room kitchen before I could strangle Cressida in a fit of anger.
“She’s here to ruin my life,” I said as Maeve pushed me into the elevator. I leaned over, resting my hands on my knees. “I thought I was never going to have to see her again, and here she is.”
“Just focus on work,” Maeve said, rubbing my shoulders. “And the pasta.”
“I need something stronger than pasta.”
“Holly,” my friend called, waving when we stepped off the elevator. “It’s an emergency. She needs a plate of pasta, stat!”
Holly quickly made me an order and slid the piping-hot plate in front of me.
“This is chili mac ‘n’ cheese with chorizo,” she said.
“Thanks,” I said, taking a bite. “I’m spinning out. My sister is totally after Beck.”
“Then she and Cressida can fight over him.”
“What if they’re working together?”
Holly picked up the fork and stuffed another bite of pasta in my mouth. “Breathe,” she instructed. “It’s not like Beck is going to put together a harem. At a certain point, those two are going to turn on each other. It’s going to be King Kong versus Godzilla. The two apex bitches are going to tear each other to pieces.”
I took a deep breath. Holly handed me a blood-orange soda. Maeve fanned my face.
“We are calm. We are enlightened. We are loving our pasta.”
“For someone who got laid on Friday—” Holly began.
“And Saturday,” I said automatically.
“And Saturday, you sure are wound up!”
“What if he thinks he made a mistake?” I fretted. “What if, now that he’s slept with me, he feels how I feel after eating a whole bag of off-brand Cheetos? It seemed like a great idea at the time, but then later on, you’re like what was I thinking?”
“He’s probably thinking about how much he wants a repeat,” Maeve assured me.
“What if he’s thinking that now that he’s got it out of his system, he’s going to find a real wife?”
“I thought you weren’t dating him or falling in love. It was just a hookup.”
“Right,” I said, the cheese slowly lulling me into a warm, calm state. “Right. It is just a hookup. Beck is a boss with benefits. I don’t care what he thinks of me. I’m not marrying anyone. As if I want to be some spoiled billionaire’s wife. I’m purely in it for the sex. Otherwise, I can’t stand the guy.”
Right? Right?
I took out my notepad. “In fact, I’m making a hate list about him right now. Number one…”
My friends waited expectantly.
“Uh, things I hate about Beck. The way his hair is slightly messy in the morning. He wore black socks with a charcoal-gray suit. Umm…”
“Girl!” Holly shook her head. “You have it bad for him.”
“Oh my god! What have I done?” I banged my head on the table then raised a hand. “Pasta bartender, can you give me another round of the mac ‘n’ cheese? I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but it’s been a bad week.”
