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...
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Cassian
After overseeing the process of renovations all day, I'm relieved to return home and shower. It's nerve-wracking to prepare for a dinner date, but the unknown excites me, which counteracts my need for a smoke. I don't think Ophelia would take too kindly to me entering the restaurant reeking of cigarette smoke.
While my hair is drying, I comb through my inbox, replying to emails regarding supply orders, updates on our greenhouses, and one from Jake. The greenhouse email is from Olive Garcia—Jake's old stalker—and she's bitching at me about not cutting ten staff members from our greenhouse in order to decrease loss of revenue. I've asked for time to come up with an alternative plan that would salvage those jobs. Not just for the sake of my conscience, but also to keep disgruntled employees from defecting to the coffee companies we're competing with. I'll deal with Olive later—I've got more important events on my mind aside from Olive and I not being able to see eye-to-eye. For the love of God, I wish that woman would drop off the face of the earth. I don't know what I ever saw in her.
Droplets of now-cold water slide down the bare skin of my back as I read Jake's message. A crease forms between my brows. He and Gemma have cut their honeymoon short by a week. I'm tempted to call him and ask how they could be that stupid, but when I glance at the clock, I realize I'm running late. Discarding my phone, I towel dry my hair as best I can and tie it up into a bun. After that, I dress in a casual pair of jeans and a light-blue dress shirt.
When I'm satisfied with my appearance, I step out of the bathroom and head to the kitchen. Penelope is sitting at the breakfast bar, sipping a glass of wine. Chuckling, she sets her wine down and types away at her phone.
"What's so funny?" I ask, swiping my wallet from the counter. I double-check my pocket to make sure I have my phone.
Penelope sways a little as she looks up at me. "Nothing," she giggles. "Just talking to Patrick. He's quite the character."
Jealously strikes me in the gut before I can comprehend it. For the second time tonight, a crease forms between my brows. Where this feeling this coming from, I'm not sure. Penelope and I are good friends. I should support her like she's been supporting me. But while Patrick is a nice guy, I don't want her getting hurt. I don't want her taking the risk.
Thankfully, before I can open my mouth, I realize how I sound. I'm implying double standards to this situation. If I speak out about how she should be careful, Penelope is going to bitch-slap me into the next century. It's not my place to judge Penelope and her dating preferences. Besides, I spent the day with Patrick and I have nothing against him. "That's, uh, great," I force out through gritted teeth. My jaw ticks as I stuff my wallet into my back pocket. "What happened to not associating with business partners that weren't originally your friends?"
What the hell is wrong with me? I'm acting possessive, which I have no right to do since I'm heading out on a goddamn date with another woman.
She gazes up at me with droopy eyes. "You think so?" she slurs. "And what do you care? You're going on a date with Ophelia."
