Read Online Love and Chaos by Gemma Burgess - Free Book Online Page B

based on the number of times I’ve come home to find her scarfing Cheerios at midnight.) And Pia is frowning thoughtfully with every bite, taking notes. Apparently it’s called “competitor analysis.”
    “I could do something with basil and raspberries, if they’re really going to be the next big thing,” she’s muttering to herself. “But, merde, I need some protein in there, too. With what? Low-fat feta, maybe? Ricotta? Would chicken be too overpowering?”
    “Remember when Pia used to be fun?” Julia says to me, handing over a gigantic maple-frosted bacon donut.
    “I think I do,” I say, taking a bite. “Da-yam, that’s good.… Was that the Pia who applied Captain Morgan topically to all of life’s woes? The same Pia who is now permanently attached to her iPhone and says shit like, ‘Let’s action that’?”
    “Yes! And ‘Get back to me by EOP!’”
    “What the fuck is EOP?”
    “Exactly!”
    “So now you’re bonding over making fun of me?” says Pia, arching an eyebrow. “Whatever. I don’t care, as long as you’re getting along.”
    “Are we getting along?” asks Julia. “Ladybitch? Can I call you that?”
    I arch an eyebrow at her. “That’s Sir Ladybitch to you.”
    Julia giggles and chokes on some frosting, making a strange quacky-bark sound, and I crack up.
    “What are you laughing at?” Pia sounds annoyed. Like Julia and I shouldn’t be allowed to have private jokes.
    “At Julia,” I gasp. “She gagged on some frosting.”
    “That sounds like a euphemism,” says Julia.
    “What, like … he frosted my mouth?” I say. “Mmm. Glaze me, you stud.…”
    Julia shrieks with laughter. Pia rolls her eyes.
    “Exsqueeze me, but there are no guys here,” says Coco, looking around plaintively.
    Oh, yeah. I nearly forgot. It’s Meet a Dude Day.
    I do a quick survey of the area. There are hundreds, probably thousands of people here, but she’s right. Hipstery girls, young families, older parental types, and bewildered tourists. This is not a target-rich environment for the single girl. You need two or three guys, alone, who are up for some flirty conversation over a drink. Or in this case, an artisan farm-reared slow-pulled-pork organic-sourdough sandwich.
    “You could talk to the food dudes,” I suggest.
    Madeleine laughs. “Ugh, they’d be all obsessed with their work like all food people in Brooklyn.”
    I glance over at Pia to see if she heard, but she’s too busy making notes. What is with Madeleine and the snide comments?
    “That guy over there is gorgeous,” says Jules. “See him? Next to the chick in the hat?” We all look over. “Don’t look now! Jeez, you guys! Oh, shit, he just kissed her. What a dick.”
    We all sigh in supportive disappointment.
    “I think the flaw in the Meet a Dude Day plan is that you need an excuse to talk to guys,” says Madeleine. “Like, you know, an activity, a conversation starter. Maybe you should take a cooking course or something.”
    “Yeah. All hot single guys just love a cooking course,” says Pia, deadpan.
    “I’m not a joiner. And the flaw in Meet a Dude Day is that we’re treating this like an excursion to the dude zoo,” I say. “They’re not wild animals waiting to be observed.”
    “No, the Meet a Dude Day flaw is that it’s practically impossible to pick up a guy sober,” says Pia. “You know, unless you work with him, or you’re, like, religious or something.”
    “So true. Alcohol is a social lubricant,” I say. “It makes everything slip just that little bit easier.”
    “Ew, gross.” Madeleine wrinkles her nose.
    “You’re a sensitive little flower, aren’t you?” I say. And a raging bitch, I don’t add.
    My phone rings. I glance at it quickly. It’s Annabel, my mother. But I’m not talking to her until Dad calls me and tells me the full story. So I quickly press silent.
    “Excuse me?” asks a voice. We all turn around. A dude! Slightly chubby, has not quite mastered the art of the