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Screw You, Lover: An Enemies To Lovers Romance Page 5
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But I’m not holding her hand because I like her or anything.
I’m just making sure we don’t get separated.
***
Somehow, the patio is actually pretty chill. There’s barely anyone sitting at the tables out here, and there’s no one at the bar overlooking the ocean except for me and Riley. For some reason, they strung up a bunch of Christmas lights out here, bathing everything in red, green and white, including the wooden frame just over our heads as we look out at the dark water.
“Wait,” Riley says, pointing over at a shadowy figure pacing up and down the beach with his phone to his ear, “Is that Matt?”
I nod. “I think so, yeah. He’s been out here pretty much all night.”
“Matt!” Riley yells out to him, cupping her hands around her mouth, “Is that my sister!?”
Matt walks up to the patio, looking a little embarrassed. “Yeah,” he says.
“You two are adorable,” Riley says, a big smile on her face, “Can I talk to her?”
“Sure,” Matt says, handing the phone up to Riley, who brings it up to her ear.
“Oh my gosh, Sam, Cabo is amazing! I’ve made so many friends here already, and it’s only the first night! I’ll tell you all about it when we get back to LA, and in the meantime, have fun talking to your boyfriend…”
Riley hands the phone back down to a blushing Matt, trying to contain her laughter.
“Yeah,” Matt says, as soon as he gets the phone back up to his ear, “Yeah, it is pretty great. What? Oh…no, I don’t mind. You definitely can if you want to. I mean…yeah, I’d like that, actually…”
He walks back out onto the beach as he talks, his conversation with Sam fading out until it’s quieter than the sound of the waves.
“You’d understand if you had a little sister,” Riley says.
“No, I get it,” I reply, leaning over the bar next to her, “It’s like something I’d do to you.”
Riley scrunches up her nose. “Ew, no.”
Then, she pauses for a couple seconds. “You know, actually, you’re not wrong…it is kind of like that.”
“Clearly we’ve been spending way too much time together,” I say, eying my tequila and taking an experimental sip.
“Ugh, tell me about it,” Riley says, “I can’t believe you know me as well as you do. I’ve been trying to spend as little time with you as possible.”
“Well, hey,” I say, “We graduated. We’re not going to be seeing each other five days a week anymore. We probably won’t see each other at all.”
“Good,” Riley says, “I can’t wait.”
“Yeah…me neither.”
We both watch the ocean for a little bit, neither of us saying anything. What if this really was the last time we ever saw each other?
I mean, that’d be pretty awesome. I just have this weird feeling, like I should say something, but I’m not sure what. So instead, I just keep watching the waves.
And so does Riley.
It’s funny, there’s nothing stopping either of us from just saying “thanks for nothing, have a nice life” and walking away right now, but instead, it’s like the opposite is happening.
Neither one of us wants to end the story.
Shit, is it possible that I’m actually going to miss giving Riley a hard time once we leave home and start our lives?
Nah, no way. I’m probably just letting all this thinking about what I’m doing with my life get to my head.
Okay, I have to say something. This is starting to get awkward. I turn to look at Riley, about to break the silence with the first insult I can think of, but her head turns at the exact same time, causing out faces to kind of mash against each other.
And our lips to touch.
It only lasts a second, it’s definitely not a kiss or anything like that. But whatever I was going to say to her is completely out of my mind as the we both pull away in surprise.
“Ugh, gross,” Riley says, looking a little flustered, “Our lips just touched.”
“You probably liked it,” I say, laughing into my cup as I take another sip.
Riley punches me in the arm.
“Fuck, ow!”
“I did not like it, it was an accident.” Riley settles back down onto the bar, staring out at the horizon, “That would be pretty sad if I did, though, right before we fly back to LA and never see each other again.”
“Yeah,” I say, “That’d be pretty sad.”
Here’s that weird feeling again: a nagging little urge somewhere deep down in my chest that there’s something I should say to Riley.
But I don’t even know what that would be.
So instead, I knock back the rest of my tequila and lean over the bar, going back to watching the tide coming in.
“Alright,” Riley says, after a couple more seconds, “I think I’m going back to the hotel now.”
She takes a deep breath, looking up at me for a few seconds, then looking away. “Have a good night.”
I nod. “Yeah, you too.”
Then, I look over towards her side of the bar, but she’s already gone, her plastic cup of tequila the only sign she was ever here. So is that it? Is that how it all ends? After all those pranks, insults, and nights spent furiously studying to try and top each other, we hang out for a little bit at a trashy club in Cabo and she just leaves?
A little anticlimactic if you ask me.
I grab Riley’s tequila off the bar, slowly making my way through it as I sit under the patio Christmas lights. Looking up from the sea at the night sky. And then, after what feels like almost an hour, I see the dark shadow of Matt walking up towards the patio from the shore, slipping his phone into his pocket. “Holy shit, you’re still out here? It’s late.”
I shrug, polishing off the last little bit of tequila in Riley’s cup. “Yeah, I’m probably about to go to sleep. How’s Sam?”
Matt looks embarrassed. Shit, he really likes her, doesn’t he?
“She’s good,” he says, “She wishes she was down here hanging out with everyone.”
“That’s because she doesn’t know what it’s actually like,” I say.
“Yeah, the hotel’s probably going to be pretty funny tomorrow,” Matt says with a laugh, before his eyes light up suddenly, “Oh, shit, I just remembered, Sam wanted me to tell you something. Apparently her Mom says you stopped by Riley’s Pizza Kitchen and asked her a bunch of questions about how she opened up the restaurant?”
“Yeah,” I say, “It was after the party where I made those peanut butter clusters. I was just curious how she went from cooking on her own to turning it into a business.”
“Well, according to Sam,” Matt says, “Her mom says you can shadow her at the Pizza Kitchen this summer, and she’ll teach you anything you want to know.”
Looking over Matt’s head at the open water, I nod. “Huh…well, I’m not sure yet if that’s what I want to do or not, but I’ll definitely give it a shot.”
Suddenly, I burst out laughing. “Holy shit, how funny would it be if I took over Riley’s Pizza Kitchen? Could you imagine the look on Riley’s face? Man, I’m definitely going to take her up on that just to see Riley’s reaction.”
“We should start our own restaurant,” Matt says, “It’d be just like that party, where we just cook whatever we want, except then we serve it to hundreds of people.”
I shake my head, laughing at the thought. “That sounds fucking crazy.”
“Hey, I think I left my card at the bar,” Matt says, “I’m going to go get it, and then we can head back, alright?”
“Yeah, sounds good. Hopefully Ryan and Will haven’t puked all over the beds.”
Matt looks concerned. “Oh, shit, you’re right, we’d better hurry.”
He hurries into the bar, leaving me alone on the patio.
Yeah, I’m definitely shadowing Riley’s mom when I get back from Mexico. I’m also definitely texting Riley to let her know that Riley’s Pizza Kitchen is going to be Liam’s Pizza P
alace by the time I’m done with it.
I know we just said we were never going to see each other again, but this is just too good to pass up. I can’t wait to see how she reacts when she hears the news.
I guess the story of Liam and Riley isn’t over after all, huh?
I probably should have seen that coming. Stories like ours…well, I’m actually not sure how they end.
But I can’t wait to find out.
Chapter 9: Riley
Present Day
Okay…I have to admit there are some compelling similarities between the main characters of Fuck You, Loverboy and me and Liam.
I thought I was going to read it for five minutes just to see what Sam was talking about, but I’ve been reading it for a couple hours now. It’s starting to get to the part where they fall for each other, though, so the fun similarities are definitely about to come to an end.
Hmm…okay, this part is a lot like the conversation Liam and I had in the kitchen a couple days ago. I guess I still have a couple chapters before they go from hating each other to falling in love.
I shake my head and laugh at the thought of that happening to us. I mean, I guess I can see where Sam got the idea from, because this book makes it super convincing, but that’s definitely not going on with me and Liam.
I reach over to the pizza resting on the coffee table and grab another slice, munching on it as I turn the page and keep reading. The two enemies work for the same company, and on a business trip they got assigned to the same hotel room, and after a lot of back-and-forth insults, neither one of them wants to give the other one the privilege of having the bed all to themselves, so they end up sharing it.
The main character’s enemy tells her that he’s going to sleep in his underwear to try and get her to give up the bed, so he takes off his shirt and throws it into the corner of the room. Then, he starts to take off his pants…
My phone buzzes on the corner of the coffee table, and, reluctantly, I pick it up and read it.
Big mistake. It’s him.
Man, you’re probably getting tired of eating the sad, badly-cooked pizzas you’re making over at Matt’s, aren’t you? Why not come down to Crave and enjoy a real meal?
Below the text, there’s a picture of a juicy steak covered in caramelized onions, and mushroom gravy with some dumplings on the side. My stomach betrays me with a growl.
And before I can even start tapping out a reply, he sends another text.
Also, one of our waitresses just told me she’s moving to Canada and gave me her two weeks’ notice. I’ll make sure we keep the position open for you. I can’t wait to see what you look like in the uniform. J
GRRR! Okay, this novel can wait. I need to knock a certain arrogant asshole chef down a peg or two. Jumping up off the couch, I storm over to the makeshift work area I’ve set up on the other side of the living room, based around one of Sam’s writing desks. Then, I start doing some of the paperwork I’ve been putting off.
I knew opening up a restaurant from scratch was never going to be easy, but I figured that if Liam could do it, it couldn’t be that hard.
But man, this is pretty insane. I’ve been filling out forms and sending out emails for three days straight now, and I’m still nowhere near close to even getting started.
Luckily, I do have a couple advantages. First of all, a lot of the people who worked at Riley’s Pizza Kitchen back when Mom ran it know me and still keep in touch with Dad. When they heard it was opening up again, a few of them wanted back in, which is amazing, not just because it means I don’t have to hire a whole new crew, but also because hopefully some of the magic from back in the day is going to be there right when we open.
Also, a lot of the people I’m contacting remember Mom, and the ones who do are a little more helpful than they’d probably be to someone they didn’t know opening up a restaurant.
But still, it’s a lot of work. And I have to do it while learning to cook pizzas well enough to have people pay me to do it.
Speaking of…
I reach over towards the plate with the last couple of slices of four-cheese pizza that I cooked for lunch, and take a picture of it, throwing up my middle finger in the foreground, and send it to Liam.
I don’t have time to write anything back to him right now.
I’m too busy trying to beat him at his own game.
Chapter 10: Liam
“Watch this,” Matt says, getting my attention from across the kitchen. Then, he drizzles a crooked line of honey on top of the tuna steak in front of him and sets the plate on the counter for the wait staff to take out to the customer who ordered it. “Just like that, we’re officially done with the Japanese stuff.”
“Fuck yes.” I say, breathing a sigh of relief, “No more trying to make wasabi taste like it’s not wasabi. Next time we order food from across the ocean, let’s double check the size of the truck.”
“Amen to that,” Matt says, grabbing one of the dinner menus off the counter and looking over it.
“I’m thinking burgers and hot dogs for a month straight,” I say.
Matt grins. “Yeah, they’ll love that at fashion week. ‘Here, we brought hot dogs! We even put little smiley faces on them with ketchup.’”
“Don’t tempt me,” I say, taking a deep breath as I finish cutting the last of the garnish for tonight’s menu. “Alright. I think I’m going to pack it in. Let me know if the dinner rush gets too crazy.”
Matt nods. “Sounds good!”
Fuck, what are we going to do for fashion week? How do we top what we already do here every single day? I mull it over a little bit as I step out the back door and into the parking lot, trying to figure out what I’m going to eat when I get back.
But as I round the corner into the front parking lot, dinner is instantly the furthest thing from my mind. Because across the street, there’s a truck out front of Riley’s Pizza Kitchen. And, huffing and puffing, carrying a table that’s almost her size out of the back of the truck, is Riley.
Chuckling, I shake my head. I mean, I appreciate the dedication, but she really doesn’t know the first thing about setting up a restaurant, does she?
My eyes drift over to the restaurant, still looking like an empty storefront, but with enough tables, chairs, and decorations strewn around the inside that it’s obvious Riley’s been doing this all day. And there’s a person in there, too. Some random older guy, facing the back corner of the restaurant with a…clipboard in his hand.
Oh, fuck.
It’s a sanitation inspector.
And, judging by how it looks in there right now, Riley’s about to get a big, fat F.
Now, sure, it’d be hilarious to grab a bag of popcorn from the movie theatre down the street, pull up a chair, and watch this guy shut Riley’s restaurant down before it even opens. But it’d also just be kind of sad.
So instead, I’m going to go over there and save her ass from this clipboard guy. Because nothing’s funnier than Riley owing me a favor.
By the time I make it halfway across the parking lot, Riley’s dragged her table into the restaurant, and the inspector turns around to talk to her.
I speed up, not wanting to miss a fucking moment, and burst through the front door while he’s mid-sentence. “—and the modifications that have been made here over the past couple of years are so extensive that the floorplan you submitted to our office is completely unworkab—um, sir, I’m afraid this restaurant’s closed.”
When Riley turns to look at me, her usual anger at seeing me barge in on her is all over her face, but that’s not all that’s going on with her. She looks completely fucking exhausted, with dark circles under her eyes and a little frazzle in her brown hair. She’s clearly been overworking herself.
“He’s not a customer,” She growls, “He’s just a complete jerk.”
“Oh,” The inspector says, looking extremely confused, “Well, like I was saying, we’re going to have to conduct an extensive review of the sanitation standards o
f this property, and while we do, you’re going to need to return your loan and reapply once we’re finished, which should take about three to six months.”
“Three to six months!?” Riley gasps.
“Yeah, I don’t think that’s right,” I say, stepping up to the inspector, “That’s not how long it takes to review this property, that’s just how long the line of restaurants waiting to get approved is.”
“It’s a mix of both,” The inspector says, still confused about who I am, “But the bottom line is, Ms. Bishop isn’t going to be able to make her loan payments, so she’s going to need to reapply later.”
Riley looks like someone just lined up all of her childhood animals in the street and ran them over with a bike. Which I may or may not have done in the past…
But still, this inspector is way over the line, and it’s a good thing I’m here.
“Okay, no she doesn’t, because this isn’t a new restaurant, it’s a reopening, so your department doesn’t even need to be here.”
He furrows his brow. “Actually, since it’s been closed for over two years—”
I shake my head, cutting him off with a gesture. “Check your records. This was a beloved local restaurant, and just because a Burrito Barn was here for a couple years doesn’t mean nobody’s been filling out the paperwork to make it easier to reopen.”
Then, I point over my shoulder at Crave. “That’s my restaurant. Looks pretty fucking up-to-code, doesn’t it? I know what I’m talking about, and you’ve got your records mixed up.”
The inspector sighs. “So I suppose you’re going to appeal this inspection?”
He looks at me, and then corrects himself, turning towards Riley, who looks just as confused as the inspector did when I walked in.
“Yeah,” she says, “We’re going to appeal it.”
“Alright,” He says, shrugging his shoulders and walking past us towards the front exit, “Appeal it, and we’ll see if your…friend…is right.”