I sit in silence for a moment, absorbing what they said. He may be abrupt and borderline rude, but he’s never given me full on creeptastic vibes. He makes the occasional flirtatious comment and sends me hot looks almost every single time we’re together, but I don’t think he’s a horrible human being. The most inappropriate he’s ever behaved has been today.
If I had to put a label on it, I’d say we’ve been hostile-flirting these last few months. Does that even make sense?
Hmmm.
“No, I don’t think he’d terrorize me,” I tell them. “And I don’t believe he’s an actual creep. He’s just very—demanding sometimes.”
“Okay, that’s good. That’s a positive thing.” Caroline nods.
“How’d he get your mailing address though?” Stella asks, her gaze sharp as she watches me. “I don’t like that.”
I don’t like it either. “I’m not sure.” I think of Bethany. How she rang him up when I had to take Andie’s call. Could she have given him my address? That goes against company policy, but I know Mr. Gaines can be persuasive.
Maybe she’s the one who sent the box direct from the store and he doesn’t know where I live? Though that means she found out he’s sending me underwear, and, oh hey, that’s not weird at all (insert heavy sarcasm here).
I explain to them how Bethany took care of him with his purchase, and maybe she could be the one who gave him my address.
“That’s the only explanation I can come up with,” I say once I’ve finished explaining my theory. “She kind of has a big mouth.”
“You should ask her,” Caroline suggests.
“Right, and then open up an entire conversation about how my client could be potentially hot for me.” I shake my head. “No thanks.”
“You have to admit, it’s kind of sexy,” Stella says, Caroline nodding in agreement.
“What’s kind of sexy?” I’m so confused right now.
“The possibility that you two might want each other, and there’s been all this build up between you guys for the last few months. The monthly appointments. All that lingerie. The lingering looks you two share across a table, across the store, wherever,” Caroline explains. “It must feel like foreplay.”
Yeah, no. It doesn’t feel like foreplay.
Okay. Maybe it feels a little bit like foreplay.
“I said it before, and I’ll say it again,” Stella continues. “Maybe you need to hate-fuck him and get him out of your system once and for all.”
My mouth drops open, as does Eleanor’s. She’s the hopeless romantic of our friend group, and I’m sure Caroline using the term “hate-fuck” is about to give her an aneurism. “I don’t want to do that with him,” I tell Caroline before I meaningfully make eye contact with every single woman sitting at our table. “Really. I don’t.”
They’re all watching me like they don’t believe me. At all.
Great.
“You always tell me how hot he is,” Caroline reminds me.
Crap. I have told her that.
I squirm in my chair, wishing for another mojito, but 1) I have no cash, and 2) I have to drive home, so no more drinks for me.
“And he requests your help every time he comes in there, which is an awful lot,” Caroline continues. “How much lingerie does this guy need?”
“That’s my point exactly,” I say, fighting the surge of triumph that wants to overtake me. There’s nothing better than being validated. “He’s a total player, always coming in and buying naughty nothings for his many mistresses.”
Stella bursts out laughing. “Naughty nothings, Sarah? Really?”
I wave a dismissive hand at her. “Working at Bliss, we hear all sorts of silly terms referencing underwear, Stel.”
“I don’t think he’s buying all that stuff to give to other women,” Caroline says, sending me a meaningful look. “He’s constantly coming in there and buying lingerie so he can spend time with you.”
My entire body goes hot at her words. There’s no way that’s the reason he’s constantly coming into Bliss.
Right?
“He doesn’t want to spend time with me.” I shake my head. That is the craziest thing Caroline’s ever said. “He doesn’t even like me.”
“Uh huh,” Stella drawls, the jerk. “Maybe he acts like that toward you because he’s sexually frustrated. As in, you sexually frustrate him.”
“That’s no excuse,” I protest, but my words sound weak. No way is Jared Gaines sexually frustrated over little ol’ me. He could have any woman he wants with the snap of his fingers. Mr. Eligible Bachelor and all that crap. “Besides, he doesn’t want me.”
“Clearly, he does. He just sent you a pair of assless panties, Sarah. Meaning he wants to see your ass in them,” Caroline emphasizes. That she can string those sentences together with a straight face amazes me.
“Has the world really come to this?” Eleanor asks, sounding all stressed out. Poor thing. “Have we really come to the point where a man sends a woman an unsolicited lingerie set as a way to seduce her?”
“No,” I answer firmly. I’ve been saying that word a lot tonight, and I’m standing firm behind my thoughts. “He’s definitely not trying to seduce me.”
“I bet he is,” Stella says, sending Caroline a smug smile. When those two are in cahoots, watch out. “Like, I’d bet big money on it.”
I don’t have big money like Stella, so I wouldn’t bet shit on that. But I keep my mouth shut, sending them both a glare that would have my siblings running.
Unfortunately, my evil glare doesn’t affect my friends whatsoever.
“You should go to his office and confront him,” Caroline says, leaning back in her chair with a smug smile on her pretty face.
She makes it sound so easy. Like I can just walk in and toss that box into Mr. Gaines’ face and tell him where to shove it. He doesn’t want me. He’s not sexually frustrated.
He’s just an ass who doesn’t know how to deal with people on a regular basis. It doesn’t matter that he’s the CEO of his company—I can’t even remember what he does for a living. Mergers and acquisitions? Land development? Something rich and extravagant like that. He probably doesn’t even actually talk to people. He just sits in his office and fires off emails and texts his demands. I’m sure no one crosses him. What he says goes.
I seriously can’t stand people like that.
No, really. I can’t.
“Confront him how?” I ask, sounding tired. Because I am tired. The day has been long, my mind is blown, and I want nothing more than to go back home and collapse into bed. I’m absolutely exhausted thinking about bills to pay and hours to work and clients who send me strange gifts.
Seriously. I’m completely over this day.
“Ask him if the gift was really meant for you? He’ll either shoot you bedroom eyes and say hell yes the lingerie is for you, or he’ll deny it, apologize for his mistake and you both can forget this ever happened,” Caroline explains, sounding one hundred percent logical.
I can’t imagine him apologizing to me. I don’t think he knows how to utter the words I’m sorry. Plus, we couldn’t forget this ever happened. I know I couldn’t.
I have a feeling he couldn’t either.
The mistaken gift would loom between us every time he came into the store. He’d have to start dealing with someone else, considering how awkward it would be for us…
Wait. That idea could actually work.
“Okay. I’ll go to his office,” I finally say, my voice the slightest bit shaky. I clear my throat, wishing I didn’t sound so unsure. The idea of going to his office, to confront him in his territory, so to speak, is nothing short of terrifying. But I could overcome my terror if it meant pushing Jared Gaines out of my life once and for all. “I will,” I say, my voice the teeniest bit stronger. “Maybe even tomorrow.”
“You should definitely do it tomorrow,” Caroline encourages with a faint smile. “The sooner, the better.”
“Fine. I’ll do it
tomorrow,” I say with all the confidence I can muster.
All while trying to ignore the way my stomach pings nervously, like there’s a bouncy ball inside desperate to make its escape.
“Yay!” Stella says, and they all start clapping.
Smiling, I nod, my cheeks growing hot, but deep inside, the nervousness kicks in full force.
I feel like I’m going to throw up.
Six
Jared
I’m sitting at my desk trying to compose an email I don’t want to send when my phone buzzes. I hit the speaker button, but don’t say a word. This is how I usually operate with my assistant, Denise, and she knows it.
“Someone is here to see you,” she announces, all brisk efficiency. The woman is no-nonsense, and I appreciate her mightily for it. I show my appreciation by giving her a hefty salary. She’s worth every single penny.
“Who?” My heart—yes, I have one, though it’s tiny, like the Grinch’s—drops at Denise saying someone is here to see me. Drop-ins are rare, considering that I refuse to see pretty much everyone unless they have an appointment. Could it be Miss Harrison?
My skin goes hot at the thought.
“It’s your sister,” Denise says, and I immediately make a face at the phone, thankful no one can see me. Disappointment makes my stomach sink like a stone and I sit up straighter, tugging on my tie, tightening it.
Candice. My younger sister. I don’t want to deal with her right now. Lately I’ve been avoiding my entire family and I’m sure Candice has figured this out. She always proves herself smarter than anyone ever gives her credit for.
My mouth opens, ready to utter the words Send her in, when the double doors burst open and in strides Candice with a sunny smile on her pretty face as she makes her way toward my desk.
“Jar-ed.” She draws out my name in a sing-songy voice that’s reminiscent of our mother’s. Does Candice realize this?
Probably not.
I hit the button on the phone to end the call before rising to my feet. Our mother always told me I should stand for a lady, and my sister is no exception. “Candice. What a surprise.” I sound annoyed, and I clear my throat.
“A pleasant one, I hope.” Ignoring my obvious annoyance, she offers me a quick hug, her potent perfume making my nose twitch. “You’ve been a bad brother,” she tells me as she sits in the chair across from my desk.
I settle into my chair, quietly contemplating her as she checks her phone. Candice is twenty-three, and she’s a very attractive woman. Men trip over their feet trying to catch her attention in any way they can, and she humors them for all about five minutes before she moves on to the next one. It usually never gets beyond flirty conversation at a party—Candice is at every party and social event you can think of on the Monterey Peninsula, swear to God—and then she’s done. Over it.
How do I know this? Candice confesses all every time we get together, whether it’s just the two of us, or the entire family. She holds nothing back.
Some might call it oversharing.
“How have I been a bad brother?” I ask once she’s slipped her phone back into her Gucci bag. She’s dressed from head to toe in designer clothing, and she doesn’t even work. When our mother passed fifteen years ago, she left a trust fund no one knew about in Candice’s name only. Our brother Kevin and I would be just fine, our mother’s will said. The trust fund had been left to our mother from her mother’s side of the family. Women taking care of women and that sort of thing.
I remember being pissed at the will reading, but I’d only been nineteen and a complete idiot. Traumatized by the sudden loss of the woman I loved more than any other human being alive. That trust fund had felt like a betrayal at the time. Now I see it for what it really was. She was taking care of her only daughter in the best way she knew how. Passing down the legacy, so to speak.
The pain in my chest over the loss of my mother still lingers, though. I absently rub at it now.
“You’ve been avoiding my calls,” Candice accuses. Correctly, I might add. “And Kevin’s. Daddy’s too.”
She’s right. I know what they all want, and there’s no way I’m giving it to them. “I’ve been very busy at work.”
“Oh yes. You look so incredibly busy.” She glances around my empty cavern of an office, her amused expression slowly turning into a frown the more she studies the room. “Your walls are so blank.”
“That’s considered art, Candice.” I point at the abstract paintings on the wall.
“Art painted in various shades of cream and beige.” She rolls her eyes. “There’s no warmth, no color anywhere in this room. Don’t you find this place…depressing?” she asks in a hushed tone, leaning forward like we’re about to share some deep, dark secret.
“I don’t mind,” I say with a shrug. “I’m barely here anyway.” Lately I have been in the office more. Not that I’m telling Candice that.
“You’re avoiding our calls because of Kevin’s engagement party. Right?” Candice raises her brows, uttering the three words I’ve been trying my best to forget.
Kevin’s engagement party.
Our brother, the middle child of the Gaines children, is getting married. To Rachelle. Rachelle just so happens to be the younger sister of my ex-girlfriend. Wait. It gets worse. Let me correct my statement—my ex-fiancée. Yes, for a period of time in my very early twenties, I’d fallen for a girl who made me starry-eyed with lust. I confused that with love and asked her to marry me with a giant ring and a grateful heart. Six months later, four months before the wedding, she broke it off.
That was the last time I had a serious relationship. Ten plus years ago.
“I’m not going,” I tell Candice, keeping my voice, my expression grim. Serious. She needs to know I mean business.
Candice’s face falls. “Why not?”
“Why should I? Kevin doesn’t need me there. He won’t even miss me.” I don’t doubt that for a second. We come from a large extended family—plenty of aunts and uncles and cousins will be there in support of the happy couple. Lots of friends and business associates will surely be there too. And don’t get me started on his fiancée’s family. They’re very well-connected. Maybe more than we are.
Candice’s eyes narrow as she contemplates me. “Is this about Evelyn?”
God, why must she utter her name? “No, this isn’t about Evelyn,” I practically spit out, immediately disgusted with myself. I sound pissed off. Worse, I sound like I care.
And I don’t. That ship sailed long, long ago.
“Then come to the party.” Candice’s face lights up like it does when she gets excited, which is often. “It’ll be fun!”
“We’ve been to the city countless times,” I tell her, sounding bored. “We used to live there, remember?”
“Not really. I was too young to remember when we moved.” She watches me, her head tilted, her long, dark brown hair spilling past her shoulder. Again, she reminds me of our mother right now. She’d be so damn proud of Candice. People might think she’s useless, but she’s really not. She throws herself into charity work. The extensive time she puts in is all volunteer-based. She doesn’t do it for the accolades. Candice volunteers and helps and gives her time and her money because she actually wants to.
“I can’t take that weekend off,” I tell her, and she slowly shakes her head, like she doubts what I say. No one else talks to me like she does. No one else would dare cross me.
Candice flat out doesn’t give a shit. I don’t scare her. I never have. Sometimes she’ll call me a softy, just to piss me off.
“You are so full of crap, Jared. You’re your own boss. You can take off time whenever you want.” She waves a dismissive hand. “I promised I wouldn’t tell you this, but you have to know.”
My stomach knots and I swallow hard. “I have to know what?”
The smile on her face is giant, and she’s practically bouncing in her seat. “Kevin is going to ask you to be his best man,” she announces.
“
Why the hell would he do that?” I ask incredulously.
The smile fades, replaced by a frown. I’ve disappointed her yet again. Something I’m quite good at—disappointing my family. I sometimes wonder if they’d rather pretend I didn’t exist. “He’s your brother, Jared. He’s always looked up to you. And he wants you to stand by his side and show your support during the wedding. This is a major moment for Kevin. We have to be there.”
I prop my elbow on the edge of my desk, running my hand through my hair in frustration. I know how close Rachelle is to her sister. Evelyn. My ex. If I’m going to be the best man, most likely Evelyn will be the maid of honor, and that means we’d walk into the ceremony together.
Fuck that.
“I don’t want—”
Candice cuts me off. “Don’t say you don’t want to go yet. Think about it. This will mean so much to Kevin, to the entire family, if you’re there. I know you two have grown distant over the last few years.”
Because he’s befriended the enemy—fallen in love with her, really. Not that I ever had a problem with Rachelle when I was with Evelyn. It’s just strange that he would end up with my ex’s sister. That he would actually want to marry her.
Kevin is going to have the life that I thought I’d have. With a different woman, yes, but still. He’s marrying not only Rachelle, but her entire family. A family I’d grown close to once upon a time. His sister-in-law will be the woman I once believed I’d loved. A woman I’ve had sex with. A woman I was vulnerable with, to whom I’d confessed all of my hopes and dreams and fears and…
Shaking my head, I force the memories out, focusing instead on the here and now. I was a different person then. Young and stupid and drunk on lust. That’s all it had really been between us. Love doesn’t exist.
Love is utter bullshit.
“…and I think Kevin is secretly hoping his wedding—and you being in his wedding—will bring the two of you closer together,” Candice continues, and I realize I haven’t been paying attention to a word she’s said until now. Too lost in wasted memories. “So give it some thought, okay?”
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