I don’t want to think about Blaire with that asshole. I don’t want to think about Blaire with anyone, which I realize should raise some serious red flags. However, I’m inclined to ignore those at the moment.

I decide to leave that information alone. For now it’s enough to know he’s barely adequate and vapid. “And what’s the deal with Skylar?”

“She’s always been a hot mess. She was young when the swap happened, so I honestly think it messed her up more than the rest of us. She doesn’t have any kind of moral compass at all, or direction, or independent thoughts. I actually sometimes wonder if she’s my half sister and not just my cousin.”

“That’s a mind fuck, right there.”

“My whole family is a mind fuck. And like I said, I love them and I know they love me even if they suck at showing it. I just want a normal life where I can do what I love without my family trying to railroad me and make all the decisions for me.”

“You’re incredible. You know that, right?”

“My family doesn’t think so.”

“No offense, but your family is fucked.”

She laughs. “This is very true. I knew I would fall short if I tried to work with them.”

“Fall short how? You’re amazingly talented.”

She chews her bottom lip for a moment. “I don’t share the same values as they do. They’re all about appearances and who they know, and that’s never really mattered to me. Our goals just don’t align. I want to do what I love, not necessarily what’s going to make me the most money. And maybe that’s naïve, or shortsighted or whatever, but it’s how I feel. So I avoided the potential disappointment by going in a completely different direction and now here I am, eking out a living, but doing it on my own.”

“They won’t help you?”

“My dad has tried to loan me money half a dozen times. He’s constantly offering to transfer funds into my account, but if I take their money, I also have to take their advice, and that is not something I want. Like when I wanted to buy the cupcake truck, my dad was there with a big old check, but it came with all kinds of stipulations, so I thanked him and told him I wanted to do it on my own and that’s what I did—well, with Paul’s help, anyway.”

This explains why Blaire is all about doing things her own way. “Do they get how hard you’re working?”

She shrugs. “Maybe? I’m not looking for their approval, or a pat on the back, though. I stopped doing that a long time ago when I realized their view of success and mine were so different.”

“My brothers are a lot like that. It’s always been about how much money they can make and how fast they can make it. For a while I was the same way, but it was making me miserable. No matter how hard I worked, my heart wasn’t really in it, so when they wanted to go out on their own, I had to reevaluate my own goals.”

“That makes sense.” She smiles and glances at me before focusing on the road again. “It seems like you really love the bar.”

“I do. It’s not going to make me rich, but it makes me a hell of a lot happier than working in finance ever did. And eventually I want to open a small brewery, so this is a great stepping stone.” It’s definitely something we have in common, loving what we do.

“A brewery? Really?”

“Yeah. It’s a passion project, but it’ll take time to make it happen.”

“Hmm, what about your brothers? Do they love what they do or do they love the money?”

“Both, I think, and they’re good at it. Finance is a natural fit for them, but it really never was for me.”

“So are you kind of a black sheep like me?”

“You’re not a black sheep. You’re an outlier, Blaire. My parents were always about doing what made us happy, as long as it wasn’t rotting our brains with garbage TV and hours of video gaming. But I guess in some ways I’m the black sheep. Both of my brothers have significant others and lucrative careers. They kind of fit the conventional stereotype of success: big house, nice cars, gorgeous wife or girlfriend—and my oldest brother, Daniel, is going to be a dad this year, so they’re on their way to the two kids and a dog scenario.”

“So you’re going to be an uncle. That’s exciting! I’m not sure if Maddy and Matthew will have kids or not, since Maddy is terrified of stretch marks.”

I laugh, but realize she’s serious. “That’s kind of…”

“Sad and self-centered?” Blaire supplies. “Honestly, I don’t think Maddy would be all that involved in raising her kids. She’s more the kind of person who would Insta-pose them and make it look like her family is picture perfect and then hand them over to the nanny to deal with the feedings and dirty diapers while she gets a facial.” She grimaces. “God, I’m making her sound horrible. She’s really not. We just had an atypical upbringing, and our parents made some less than perfect choices when it came to smoothing over the fallout of the partner swap, like overindulging us.”

“You’re not overindulged.”

“I’m a different person than she is, though.”

I have to agree with that.

She waves a hand around in the air. “Anyway, enough about that. Tell me more about you and your grandpa. You seem like you’re really close.”

“Mmm, yeah, we always have been, even before my parents passed. My first job was bussing tables at The Knight Cap as a teenager, and then later I became a bartender there. Plus, I ended up living with him and Grams during my last two years of college after my parents passed, and that brought us closer. We’re a lot alike. Same core values, same work ethic.”

“He sounds like a good guy.” Her voice has that soft edge, somewhere between empathy and envy.

“He is. Thinks you’re quite the looker.” I cringe, wishing I’d kept that detail to myself.

But it gets another chuckle out of her, which I like. We talk about our childhoods, all our time spent in family restaurants—it sounds like her experiences were a lot different than mine and I love the way her face lights up and her eyes go all dreamy when she talks about the patisseries in France and how they solidified her love of all things sweet.

The rest of the drive passes quickly, and soon she’s stopping in front of my building. I consider inviting her up for a drink. It sends a message I’m not entirely opposed to, but it could add a layer of complication. Especially since we work side by side and today is the first time we’ve spent more than five minutes in each other’s presence without arguing. So I decide against it and just go with: “Thanks for the entertaining evening. I had fun.”