UNEDITED
Between his semi-committed addiction to smoking and his role as CEO of Elemental Coffee, Cassian Russell has spent the majority of his life running one of the most popular coffee shops on the Island with his best friend, Jake Swift. After a...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Cassian
"What do you mean Ophelia's coming over for dinner?" Penelope asks.
"What is with the panic?" I retort. It's not like Penelope to become panicked over spontaneous plans. Following spontaneous plans is something she's good at.
She slams her iPad down on the couch. On the screen, I see she's playing a game of cribbage. All morning, we've been lounging on the couches and relaxing. Penelope's still dressed in her pyjamas. Over the past two weeks, we've been busy ordering knick knacks, business cards, and other accessories for the shop. Today's been a much-needed day off, but it seems my statement has snapped that relaxed atmosphere.
With a wild look in her eyes, Pen whips her head back and forth. "This house is a disaster!"
I hold up the vacuum. "Hence the vacuum in my hand."
"You told me she was coming over Saturday."
Frowning, I shake my head. "I'm pretty sure I said Friday night last Friday night."
She throws her hands up in the air. "What am I supposed to do? All my friends are busy tonight."
"Even Gabe?"
"Gabriel is working."
I lean against the vacuum, a ghost of a smirk on my lips. Pen's cute when she's exasperated. "I don't know why you're freaking out. Stay for dinner. I'll make enough food. Besides, it's not like having her over counts as a date. We're hanging out. The more the merrier."
She presses her lips in a flat line and shakes her head. "Nope. Too weird."
A jolt of panic rushes through me. Having Penelope as a buffer would be beneficial for those moments Ophelia and I succumb to awkward silence. "Come on, Pen. We're working with her. There's nothing wrong with getting to know your coworkers."
Her mouth twists to one side as she folds her throw blanket. Once that's done, she turns her back to me and stuffs it in the wicker basket next to the fireplace. I stare at her, watching the way the fabric of her onesie tightens around her ass. Baby blue fabric patterned with rubber ducks has never looked so good. It's childish, but it suits her bubbly, no-bullshit personality. She turns back to me. "I don't think Ophelia and I see eye-to-eye, Cassian. There was a power struggle between us at the meeting. She wasn't happy with my confidence. She saw me as a threat."
I cross my arms. "Sometimes, vibes are wrong. And how do you know that?"
"Because I just do," she sighs.
Before Penelope can take her pillow back to the bedroom, I grab her bicep, holding her in place. Penelope doesn't act off of vibes. She uses facts and knowledge, much like I do, to judge the character of another person. A power struggle is also a lame-ass excuse. Her violet-blue gaze meets mine, and I have to wonder what colour her eyes really are. Some days, I see more violet than blue. Other days, I'm reminded of a cloudless sky. "Quit bullshitting me, Pen. Why don't you like her?"
