10. Gianna

The buzzing of my phone in my hand startled me so badly I jumped.

Why was he calling me? Emerson had texted randomly while he'd been gone for the last four days, but he hadn't called. I glanced down at my tank top and shorts with a wince. My hair was a mess, and I was covered in paint. Even my chest had green streaks on it.

Frowning at the phone, I slid the button to answer the FaceTime request. "What's wrong?"

For a beat, he blinked at me, silent, then he cleared his throat. "Nothing. I just thought that if we were chatting, this would be easier."

"We're chatting?"

He leaned back against his headboard and crossed his arms over his bare chest. He was on the slim side, but that didn't mean he wasn't cut. I tried not to focus on the swells of muscles that rippled across his arms as he got settled. Instead, I focused on his green eyes, bright and sparkling as always. Did he wear contacts or use special drops to make them do that? Because mine had never twinkled like that.

He chuckled. "What do you call it when two people are asking and answering questions back and forth?"

I rose a brow at the mocking tone, but he just smiled in return.

"What are you painting?"

"I didn't say I was."

"Oh, I didn't know you were into war paint. Looks cute on you." He leaned closer to the screen like he was trying to get a better look.

"Did you call just to mock me?" I crossed my free arm over my chest and huffed.

His attention drifted low, and he sucked in his bottom lip, but quickly looked away from the screen. "I can't remember why I called." He shrugged, glancing back at the phone. "Are you finishing up the zoo signs?"

"No," I breathed, officially giving up trying to understand why he'd called. "They're already done." I turned back to the painting I was working on for Pop for Father's Day. He'd always loved the house in the spring, when the weeping cherries and daffodils bloomed. So this last year, I took a picture, and I'd been working on recreating it on canvas for him. "The Zoo is supposed to be hanging them for Friday night."

"I can't wait to see them. I'll have to swing by one of these days."

Brows pulled together, I set the paintbrush back down. "The Revs have a table. Are you not coming?"

He had his own life, and my event probably meant nothing to him. But an annoying little part of my brain was whispering its disappointment as I realized he wouldn't be there. I ground my teeth. No, I wouldn't let him have this effect on me. The last thing I needed was to develop a crush on my brother's best friend. The sexy professional baseball player that half the city probably lusted over.

"Nah, they invite the big names to those things." He shook his head, and I heard the popping of his knuckles, although I couldn't see his hands on the screen.

"What?" Emerson Knight was a big name. No one got fans as excited when they walked into Lang Field as he did. He was great at getting the crowd on their feet and dancing, and when he was on base, the whole stadium held its breath, waiting for him to steal. Not to mention the man's stupidly beautiful face peppered the Revs' socials.

Yes, annoyingly, I was checking them for glimpses of him now. Another thing I needed to stop, since there was no good reason his dopey smile and silly antics should interest me so much.

"You know." A single-shoulder shrug. "Price, Damiano, Martinez, Bosco, and Dumpty. The fan favorites." He said it without a trace of emotion, but his matter-of-fact attitude was belied by the way he ran a hand down his face.

As I watched the way he shrugged off the topic, anger on his behalf coursed through me. Had no one ever told him he was in the same league as those guys?

"Anyway." He moved on before I could say anything. "Maybe one day when I'm home, you can take me and show me the signs. I really do want to see them." A soft smile graced his lips, but the light in his eyes had dulled. "But I'll let you get back to your work. I didn't mean to interrupt. I guess I just missed seeing the daggers you love to shoot my way."

Shit. I schooled my expression. Yes, I'd been glaring, but it wasn't directed at him.

"Have a good night, Mariposa." That smile went even softer, and then he ended the call.

It sucked that he wasn't going out. Not because I had these weird feelings about him, but because it seemed like he wanted to go.

My focus shifted to the black frame on the side table next to the sofa. Inside it was my painting of Puff, mid-jump off a rock. Emerson was as weirdly excited about that bird as my father was. And almost as much as Avery and Chris. What if I asked for a plus-one to the zoo event? I shook my head. I didn't even know if Emerson would want to go. I glanced down at my phone and pulled up my friends' group text.

Me: Would it be weird to ask to bring someone to the thing on Friday?

Linc: Ummmm 'scuse me? A DATE???

I blew out a breath, considering the best way to word it. But before I could respond, my phone was buzzing again. I sighed but accepted the FaceTime request and propped my phone up beside me.

"You are at your most adorable when you're covered in paint." The dreamlike sigh floated from Linc's lips. "It's so obvious that you were born to be an amazing artist." He clapped his hands. "But more importantly, tell me the date is with the naked roommate."

"He's fully clothed all the time." I growled the lie. Because, though I'd never seen him naked, he did wander around shirtless a lot. Enough that I was beginning to think the rumors about him not being big on wearing clothes might be true.

"It's too bad. I've seen pictures, and that man is really good-looking." Mila, who'd joined the call too, waggled her brows.

My hackles rose, though I wasn't sure whose statement caused the response. Either way, I snapped. "He's also really good at baseball and just a nice guy."

"No longer claiming he's weird?" Linc's left brow rose almost in time with the corner of his mouth.

"Shut up." I sighed. "He's…" What was the best way to describe him?

Mila smiled, and Linc almost squealed.

"I love this so much," he gushed. "It's going to be the best roommates-to-lovers story ever. I totally prefer MM to MF, but if it means you getting a happily ever after, I'd be game for MF."

I tossed my hands in the air. He would never let it go. "No. My comment about him being a good guy is just that. Don't make this a thing."

"You asked about a date," Mila reminded me gently.

"No, I asked about bringing a…" I had no clue how to describe Emerson at the moment. "Friend?"

Linc scoffed.

Mila gave me a placating smile. "Linc," she soothed, "give it some time and don't push. Remember, she did just get out of a terrible relationship."

"Thanks," I muttered. Although that wasn't the issue either. It had been almost a month since everything with Jake had gone from present to past.

"Best way to get over someone is to get under someone else." He paused. "Or over them. Or beside them. Or inside them." His eyes lit up and his mouth popped open. "Or?—"

"There is no way there is another or in that," I huffed. "Just forget I asked."

"You realize that's unlikely to happen, right? Linc gets excited about this stuff." Mila's blond bob bounced as she shook her head. "Remember the gym sub?"

"Ohmygosh." He rushed the words together without a breath. "You two would have made such pretty babies."

I rolled my eyes. "Mila went on one date with the guy, and there was no spark."

"Yeah, it was pretty dull." Mila shrugged.

"Not in my mind."

"See what I mean?" Mila asked, moving in closer to her phone's screen.

"I'll make it easy. Let it go, or you're uninvited to the get-ready party." I turned back to my painting and studied the details, considering what it was missing.

"But you need your glam squad," he whined.

"I don't need my glam squad, but I'd like them, so they need to act like adults." I dipped a clean brush into the pink paint on my pallet and added a hint of it to the flowering tree, smudging in the brighter color with an almost white pink.

My phone buzzed again, rattling on the table beside me. The notification that appeared at the top of the screen made my stomach sink. "What the hell now?" I muttered. It was past ten o'clock. "I gotta go, guys. It's the asshole."

"Jake?" Mila asked.

I nodded, setting my brush down. "He better be giving me an update about my deposit."

I hung up and flipped over to Jake, tapping the speaker button.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Gigi."

It was nice to be able to admit that I hated that nickname. Through our relationship, I'd tried to make myself not want to frown every time he used it, but now I could just scowl, and it didn't matter.

"Got my money for me?" I asked.

"Next week," he promised.

I glanced at the date on my phone, mentally noting the date seven days from now. I was going to lose my shit if I didn't get it back by then.

Brush in hand again, I turned back to the pink tree, blending the colors until it was a deep rose, giving it depth.

For a long moment, I worked in silence.

"Are you there?" Jake finally asked, his voice tiny.

"Yes." I wasn't the one who'd made the call. I didn't know what he wanted me to say. And it wasn't going to be hey, buddy, how have you been?

"Well, uh. Okay." He stumbled over the words.

I waited again.

He sighed. "Listen, about Friday…"

Ah. I understood what this was now. "It won't be weird," I assured him. "Don't worry."

"Of course not." He cleared his throat. "But the thing is, Libby and I decided we should be attending events together."

I gritted my teeth. Great, I'd get to spend the night with the happy couple. At least the assigned tables were ten tops. I'd have other people to be buffers. The idea of bringing a date flashed through my mind again. I eyed the counter where I'd laid my red dress…

An image of Emerson in a dark suit floated through my head. The way he'd smile down at me as he stood next to me. My heart skipped at the idea of his hand resting on the small of my back. I swallowed.

"Gigi?"

Jake's voice startled me back to the conversation.

"Okay, go with Libby. Not an issue." Maybe even call her Lili or Bibi. I didn't give a shit.

He let out a long breath. "Thank you for understanding. I thought you were going to fly off the handle at the idea that she'd take your seat."

I blinked, and my heart lurched. "Wait…what?" I cocked my head to one side so quickly my messy bun bounced.

"Since the zoo account is getting so much publicity, the firm is sending all the big guns. It was just supposed to be you and me, but now the higher-ups are attending."

He couldn't be saying…

"So thank you for letting Libby have your ticket."

He was saying it. My hand tightened around the narrow brush as fire ran through my veins. "Jake, this is my account. I brought it in. I did all the work."

After doing the sign for Chris and Avery's puffin exhibit, the zoo asked me to update the signs throughout the whole park. Like a loyal dumbass, I'd brought the account to the firm. Without me, it wouldn't have even been a thing.

"Right, right." He brushed that off like it didn't matter. "We aren't taking credit. Everyone will know it's your thing. And we can send you pictures of the event."

The wooden handle of the paintbrush between my fingers cracked from the pressure I was putting on it. "Jake," I gritted out, setting down the broken brush.

His tone hardened. "You're going to be difficult, aren't you? You have to learn to let me go, Gigi. No one likes the pathetic girl who can't move on when it's over."

The effect his words had on me was so visceral I reared back as if he's physically reached through the phone and hit me. I didn't care about seeing Jake. In fact, I'd rather he not come to the event. But he was overseeing the project, so I'd come to terms with his presence. Regardless, his position with the company didn't take away my right to go.

If I threw a fit, I'd get a seat at the table. Because, after all, I'd single-handedly landed this account. But if I did that, Jake would twist my reaction and make it look as though I was a jealous ex who wasn't over him.

Apart from his calls and emails, I hadn't thought about Jake in the last few days. I didn't miss him, and I definitely didn't miss the way he treated me. If I'd learned anything over the last few weeks, it was that I should have ended things a long time ago. I wasn't heartbroken; I was embarrassed and pissed. It had taken far too long to figure it out, but the truth was that I hadn't loved him, no matter how much I tried to make myself.

But did I want to deal with rumors of being the jilted ex? No.

"Trust me, I'm long over you," I muttered.

He chuckled. "Sure."

Was it actually so hard to believe? My temper flared, the fire inside me raging, and the words slipped out before I could stop myself.

"I've actually been seeing someone. It's fine if I don't go to the zoo thing. It'll be the perfect opportunity for the two of us to do something else."

He snorted again. "I'll believe it when I see it. But whatever you say. As long as we're on the same page with Libby taking your seat and you not throwing a fit, you can live in your fantasy world."

"Right." I bit the word out. Every part of me wanted to tell him to go fuck himself, but I needed this job. I hadn't had one hit on my résumé on Indeed or any updates from the recruiter I'd spoken with. Apparently, the industry was oversaturated. And the idea of quitting my job without another lined up was scary as hell. I couldn't not have an income.

"Don't let this mini meltdown of yours affect your work. I need those images for the Java project by Monday."

"Right." I kept the single word short, but I tempered my tone into something mostly professional.

The way Jake made every project funnel through him was frustrating. I provided him with a design, and he went to the customer with it. Then he'd come back to his team with changes and tweaks. Technically, overseeing the designs and communication was part of his job, but for the artists, having no contact with the customer made the work harder and extended timelines. One of the reasons the zoo project had been done so quickly and efficiently was because I'd gotten to speak directly to the zoo's team. Since I was the one who'd brought them in, they'd specifically requested that I be their point of contact. If only that could happen more often.

Abruptly, Jake cleared his throat and said, "Night."

When the room fell silent, my eyes moved to the clear bag holding the red dress I'd picked up from the tailor today. I had splurged on it, especially since I'd paid extra to have it taken in so that it fit better. It was the kind of dress that would make an ex-boyfriend suffer. Originally, that was my thought. But every time I envisioned a set of eyes roaming over me, they were green, not brown. And the truth was that I didn't care much about what Jake thought. Though that didn't mean I wouldn't mind seeing a day when karma would bite him in the ass.