One & Only (Canton) by Viv Daniels Read Free Book Online Page A

servants are actual people.”
    “Would you stop it?” I asked. “We don’t get to hate this girl just because she’s dating some guy I slept with a long time ago.” And I didn’t get to hate her because her father paid for every single cent of her Canton education even while arguing that I shouldn’t get one.
    Sylvia turned back to me, her eyes big and round. “Sorry! Geez, Tess, who made you Miss Manners?”
    I wondered if that was why Dad had tried to talk me out of Canton. Because he knew Hannah was going there and he didn’t want to risk having us at the same school, maybe even living in the same dorm.
    Annabel returned. “The usual.” She affected a high, squeaky voice and a valley girl accent. “‘Can I get the breaded filet without the breading and do you have any pomegranate today and can you roast the cauliflower without the truffle oil?’” She tossed the menus back in the holder and began entering the complicated orders into the computer. “Dylan’s girlfriend went easy on us though. Seared salmon salad, hold the nuts.”
    Sylvia laughed. “Let’s not hold the nuts.”
    “Sylvia!” I exclaimed. “What if she’s allergic?” Was she? Dad had never mentioned if Hannah had a nut allergy. Of course, he hardly ever mentioned her at all.
    My friend nodded. “Good point. Can we put salt in her iced tea?”
    “Sylvia!” Annabel and I cried in unison.
    “You’re making me sorry I told you who she was,” I added. “Honestly, I’m sure she’s a perfectly nice girl.” Dylan wouldn’t be dating her otherwise, right?
    “I’m sure she’s not ,” Sylvia insisted. “What twenty-year-old owns a BMW? Spoiled brats who get everything they want all the time are never nice girls.”
    “If I could, I’d give Milo everything he ever wanted,” Annabel pointed out. “You think that would ruin him?”
    “Yes!” said Sylvia. “That’s why they call it ‘spoiled.’”
    I didn’t say anything. I was sure Dad had given Hannah everything. He’d even gone so far as to make certain that her college experience wasn’t marred by the presence of her bastard half-sister. Lucky Hannah.
    Somehow, we managed to change the subject to Milo’s collection of matchbox cars, and then a few more tables came in and Sylvia started showing me the ropes. I was to train at her side for today, then help expedite and assistant serve for two more shifts. After that, I’d get my own tables and my own tips. Sylvia was working the row of tables on the other side of the Ladies Who Lunch, and I made sure to keep my back to Hannah whenever we were out there. She’d only seen me for a moment at the car the other day, but I didn’t need her to ever see me again.
    Sylvia was explaining the menu to a couple who clearly didn’t understand the meaning of the word “confit” when I heard Dylan’s name come floating up from Hannah’s table. I couldn’t help it—I diverted my attention away from Sylvia. After all, I knew what confit was.
    “Seriously, girlfriend, in six months, you have re made that boy.” It was one of the Blondes, talking to Hannah.
    “I take some credit for his newfound sense of fashion, yes,” Hannah was saying. “But I had great starting material.”
    There was a chorus of snickering around the table. My fingers started tingling with a two-year-old memory of what Dylan’s body felt like beneath my hands. I straightened and squeezed my eyes shut before other parts started remembering too.
    “That’s true,” said a second blonde. “He has kind of an Adam Scott thing going on. Geeky but adorable.”
    I practically nodded in agreement before catching myself.
    “If you say so,” said Blonde #1. “But Inever would have noticed the raw material under all that nerdy covering.”
    “Oh, he’s still a nerd,” said Blonde #2. “We were out at dinner the other day, and I swear the only thing he wanted to talk about was seaweed-powered cars.” More laughter.
    “Laugh it up,” said Hannah.