“More of a vanity thing,” she said. “So, which flavor will it be?”
I looked over at Miller. “That’s okay. I’ll just…” I looked over my shoulder at the door. I really, really didn’t want to leave.
“It’s fine,” Miller said. “I got this, Barbara.” He grabbed the containers from her.
“Very well.” She untied her apron and hung it on a hook. “There was a show I wanted to catch so I’m going to scurry off. Have a great rest of your night, you two.”
“Which flavor?” he asked once Barbara disappeared out of the kitchen.
I tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear. “You didn’t have to offer me your ice cream.”
“I could tell you needed it.” He pulled out two bowls and I couldn’t even try to hide my smile. “So…mint chocolate chip or raspberry chocolate chip?”
“Mint. Thanks for sharing.” He didn’t reply, he just got to work scooping out two bowlfuls. I sat down at the table in the middle of the room and watched him. I could add the fact that he liked ice cream with chocolate chips to the few things I knew about him. He was also generous. And kind for letting me use his phone. He could have been doing a million other things tonight, but he was giving that all up to hang out with a practical stranger just because he’d overheard a conversation about my breakup. It was really sweet.
He placed a heaping bowl of ice cream down in front of me and sat down across from me. The look of pure indulgence on his face when he took a bite was kind of adorable. I remembered when a bowl of ice cream could make me that happy too. I took a bite and smiled. Maybe it still could. I just needed to remember how to embrace that feeling. Seeing his smiling face made it seem possible.
“How old are you?” The words tumbled out of my mouth before I could stop them.
“Older than you.” He resumed eating, like that was a suitable answer. But before I could question it, he beat me with a question of his own. “So what didn’t he do?” Miller asked.
I swallowed down my bite of ice cream. “What?”
“You said you broke up because of what he didn’t do.” He lifted up a huge spoonful of ice cream. “Your ex,” he added when I didn’t respond.
“Oh. Um…”
“I figured since you came in here that you needed someone to talk to. But we don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”
I shook my head. “I just didn’t want to be alone.”
His jaw tensed. “Look, Brooklyn…I’m not even supposed to be talking to you. Let alone sitting here with you. I should probably go.” But he made no movement to get up.
“Just tell me something about you. Anything.”
He pressed his lips together.
“Please, distract me from whatever hell I’m currently living in. Like how you ended up working for the Pruitts of all people?”
“It’s good money. And I’m saving up for college.”
College. So that made him what? Eighteen? It was older than me, but only by two years. He acted like we were a whole lifetime apart. “Surely there are other high paying security jobs in the city.”
“Not this good.”
“Why?”
He took another bite of his ice cream as he thought about the question. “Because it’s the Pruitts.”
“Yeah. But this city is full of wealthy families. Like the Hunters and the Caldwells. The Greens and the Dicksons.” I wasn’t sure if Felix and Cupcake’s parents were as wealthy as the other families I’d mentioned, but surely they could afford the best security. Hell, most of the kids at my school were from families as wealthy as the Pruitts. “What’s so special about this gig?”
Miller finished his ice cream and put his elbows on the table. “Higher risk means higher salaries.”
“Higher risk?”
“Because of Mr. Pruitt’s line of work.”
I just stared at him. “What’s his line of work?” I didn’t know anything about the man I was living with. I hadn’t had an opportunity to ask. The only hint I could even think of was that when I first met him, he’d asked if I’d ever picked up a newspaper.
“I also get paid to keep his secrets.” He smiled.
“Really, what does Mr. Pruitt do?” If he was in the paper, that made him…what? A writer? Or maybe someone that graced the pages of the local paper. A politician?
“I’ve already said too much. Now back to you. Are you sure you don’t want to call Matthew Caldwell back? He keeps lighting up my phone.”
“No.”
“No you aren’t sure? Or no you don’t want to?”
“Both.” I took a bite of my ice cream. I didn’t want to talk about me. I wanted to talk about Mr. Pruitt’s secrets.
“The whole staff heard the argument at dinner. Did Isabella really pour milk all over you at lunch?”
I nodded. But I couldn’t tell if he believed it or not. He was just staring at me like I was a puzzle he couldn’t solve.
“Why didn’t you tell me when I asked you what happened to your blazer?”
“Because I wasn’t sure if I was going to tell anyone. But then I thought it was the perfect opportunity to get Isabella to explode and get me kicked out of the house. My plan kind of backfired though. Now her mom hates me as much as she does.”
“Yeah, you really don’t want to be on Mrs. Pruitt’s bad side.”
“Now you tell me?” I said with a laugh.
He smiled.
“It doesn’t seem like she was really open to getting to know me regardless.”
“The circumstances are pretty uncomfortable. Besides, did you really expect for it to be an easy transition with people like this?”
People like this. I smiled. He didn’t think I was one of them.
“Just a little tip for you when it comes to Mrs. Pruitt. Don’t back down from her. It’ll make it worse.”
I nodded, even though I didn’t really know what he meant. It was her house. Her rules. What was I supposed to do?
Miller let his spoon fall into his empty bowl and then stood up. He grabbed my bowl too and I watched him silently do the dishes.
“Thank you for letting me have some of your ice cream,” I said as he placed the last dish in the dishrack.