by Elias Taylor
Christian raised a brow and headed for the door, his to-go order in his hand.
Maybe not so handsome, she thought. Just incredibly rude. It wasn’t like Beth had been the one to stomp all over his heart.
“What was that about?” Mel asked. “Who was that guy?”
“Christian,” Beth sighed. “Tisha’s ex.”
“Holy shit.” Mel leaned forward, her voice low. “He clearly hates you.”
Beth shrugged, but inside, she was fuming. Was she forever going to be associated with another person’s wrongdoings?
Tisha Carol had been Beth’s other half for as long as she could remember. They had met in preschool and been inseparable for the following two decades. They had done everything together. They had even worn their hair the same way for an entire school year. Beth always smiled at the memory of the two of them walking down the halls, Tisha’s bright blond hair contrasting with Beth’s dark locks. Tisha had always been bold and a little bit devious, and that had always complimented Beth’s more logical and reserved personality.
And no matter what Mel said, Tisha had been a good friend. Mel was from a different town, and she hadn’t attended the same high school. Mel only knew the Tisha from New London gossip or from a few run-ins at local parties. Mel didn’t know the old Tisha. Mel didn’t know the girl who had held Beth’s hand during her father’s funeral, the friend who had been nothing but supportive in the months that followed.
Then Tisha had moved to Los Angeles for college. Beth had been excited and proud of her friend. Beth loved her hometown and wanted to pursue her passion for landscape design locally, but Tisha had always craved adventure in the outside world.
The changes had happened fast. First, Tisha started blowing Beth’s phone calls off because she was too busy with her new whirlwind of a social life. Beth had made excuses. She had told herself that Tisha was super busy, and she shouldn’t be too sensitive about a few canceled plans. The real shock had come every time Tisha visited home. She would hang out with Beth, but she would be different. She would stare at her phone and only talk about parties and people who Beth didn’t know.
Then, Tisha broke up with her high school boyfriend, Christian Crown. Beth hadn’t been surprised by that. Lots of people dumped their high school sweethearts, but Tisha and Christian had been serious. Beth had never spent that much time with them, but they had dated all through college. He had adored Tisha. There had even been times that Beth had longed for a guy like Christian to look at her the way he looked at Tisha. Not Christian, obviously. She knew she could never have Christian. He was too in love with Tisha.
Christian had been convinced Tisha was going to come back to him. Beth had known better, but then, it hadn’t been her job to warn Christian. She felt bad afterward when he was all torn up, but it’s not like he would have listened to Beth if she had told him that Tisha was going to end the relationship. Beth and Christian never even saw each other after graduation, anyway, except at random biker events. He was a Road Warrior like her, but he didn’t go on that many rides.
Tisha hit it big a few years ago as a model. She landed some massive jobs, and that’s when she was no longer the grounded girl Beth had once known. All she cared about was money and glamour. She still hung out with Beth when she was back in town, but it was never the same.
“Tisha did a real number on him,” Beth said at last. “It was messy.”
“Bitch,” Mel muttered as she took a sip of her wine.
Beth shrugged as Mel topped off her wine glass. Mel was probably right, but Beth couldn’t bring herself to talk about her former best friend that way. For better or worse, it was hard to be unloyal to Tisha. They had once been so close.
The worst part was, Beth was envious of Tisha. Yes, Tisha’s dreams had been shallow, but she had managed to make every single one come true. She was even engaged to a rich guy from a socialite family. Beth was still in New London, California, standing still.
“Do you think we’ll ever get our business off the ground?” Beth blurted out.
“Of course.” Mel set aside the wine bottle and turned to Beth with wide eyes. “Seriously, Beth, you’re too talented to just be an underling for the rest of your life, and every single client you’ve worked for knows it. When we start our own company, we’ll already have a whole list of people who are loyal to us.”
Mel’s words of encouragement loosened the knot in Beth’s chest. A little.
“Thanks.” Beth shrugged. “I just get so anxious.”
“I know,” Mel said. “But we can’t rush it. We have a good plan to work hard and start talking to banks about loans. We just have to trust our plan.”
Beth nodded and fiddled with her napkin. This was why she needed Mel. She was always able to talk Beth off the ledge.
“For now, let’s just enjoy our night.” Mel reached across the table and squeezed Beth’s hand. She flashed Beth a cunning grin and raised her glass. Beth laughed and joined Mel in sipping her wine.
Mel was right. They just had to follow their plan. The big scary plan that stressed Beth out every time she thought about it.
Beth took another big gulp of wine. She wanted to forget her stress. She wanted to forget about Tisha. She also wanted to forget the way Christian Crown had looked at her with nothing but disgust in his eyes.
Chapter Two: Christian
Christian Crown pulled his camera away from his face and scrolled through his roll. He had gotten all the appropriate wedding shots. He got he groom tearing up, the bride beaming as she stepped down the aisle, the bridesmaids giggling over their bouquets, and the parents looking proudly at the newlyweds.
Every single wedding was the exact same. He showed up with his camera and took the same photos every time. He kept holding out hope that people would get a little bit creative.
Christian sighed and ducked outside the reception tent.
It was a big wedding, and it was in New London, so the chances of running into someone he knew were high. He didn’t like chatting with acquaintances when he was on a job. He liked to feel professional—like a real photographer.
That was hard when most of his jobs came from friends of friends of his mother’s, but he was in no position to complain. He hated doing weddings, but they paid well. It was hard to turn down the money.
He had already done so many weddings this summer, and he was beginning to tire from the hours he had to spend editing the sappy photos. It was worth it, though. He was doing what he loved. Christian’s mother, Linda Crown, was a photographer, too. Ever since Christian was five, she had let him go in her dark room with her. He knew from that moment what he was meant to do for the rest of his life.
His dad, the ever-practical Barry Crown, might disapprove, but that hadn’t stopped Christian. He frowned. He was going to have to see his dad the next night at the biker gathering. Christian was a Road Warrior. Being a member wasn’t a choice for him. His whole family, including his older brothers Tyler and Anthony, were a part of it, which meant he was expected to join, too. He liked riding, but he wasn’t as invested in the politics of it as his dad was.
Christian raised his camera to his face and began to adjust the lens. The maid of honor was grinning up at the best man over their glasses of champagne. It was pretty cute if you liked that sort of thing. After he snapped the shot, Christian lowered the camera and scanned the tent for more candids. He bit back a curse as his eyes landed on a tall woman in a bright pink dress.
What the hell was Tisha Carol doing here? Of course, she had grown up in New London and probably knew the bride or groom, but even so, Christian felt like she was encroaching on his territory. She had been the one to leave, after all. She had raved about how amazing LA was. Surely, that gave Christian the right to live in peace in his small and pathetic hometown.
Christian’s heart froze over when he saw the man Tisha was clinging to. Her rich fiancé.
Christian rolled his eyes. He really did not want to deal with this. It was bad enough that h
e still had to see Tisha’s best friend at his favorite Thai place. He didn’t even remember that chick’s name, but she would forever be linked to Tisha and his awful memories.
Tisha hadn’t even liked Thai food, making his favorite restaurant a safe place. What was her pretty brunette friend doing there?
Christian sighed. He knew he was acting ridiculously, but Tisha brought out the worst in him.
It wasn’t just that Tisha had dumped him. Lots of people got dumped. Christian was sure that if Tisha had bothered to have a respectful conversation when she decided to end their relationship, it wouldn’t have been so bad. But that’s not what she did.
She had been Christian’s first love. With her big sparkling smile and her long blond hair, Tisha was like a daydream come to life. She was funny, too, when she wasn’t saying nasty things about other people. Even when he had been in love, Christian had known Tisha had a mean streak, but it was never out of control. He never thought she would turn her nastiness toward him.
Tisha had sworn she was all in. Even before she left for college, she told Christian she wanted him and only him. They talked about getting married and having kids—a family—the whole nine yards.
Like an idiot, Christian had believed her.
She had strung him along for years. If he really thought about it, he should have figured it out before she humiliated him. She rarely answered his calls, and when she did, she was distracted. She only talked about her modeling career taking off and showed no interest in him and the dreams they had planned together. Christian told himself that she was busy. It didn’t help that when she did come back to New London to visit, she always convinced him things were fine. They no longer had in-depth conversations about their plans, but Tisha always assured him that he was her forever person.
She came back one summer about four years ago with a big diamond ring on her finger and a fiancé from an old-money family. New London was a small town, and the news was all over town within a day.
When Christian called to confront her, Tisha said she hadn’t known how to tell him.
Christian looked down at his camera and pressed his lips together. It had been a hard lesson, but an important one. He had told himself over and over as he deleted all the photos he had taken of Tisha over the years from his computer that women existed to break hearts. That was the cold, hard truth he learned.
When Christian looked up, Tisha was waving as she headed toward him with a big smile on her face. This was classic Tisha. She thought people who stayed angry were too sensitive.
“Christian, hi!” she cried.
“Hey,” Christian said under his breath.
“How are you?” Tisha asked. “We have got to catch up.”
As she spoke, she leaned over and brushed her fingers against his shoulder. Christian looked around for her fiancé, Derek. Christian hated that he knew his name, but it had been impossible to ignore all the gossip about Tisha Carol landing such a big catch.
Derek was nowhere in sight. Maybe the guy was used to Tisha flirting with anyone who had a pulse, just so she could prove she had the power.
“I’m kinda busy,” Christian said. “I’m working.”
He lifted his camera, and Tisha blinked at it as if she had never seen it before.
“Oh, you’re still doing the photography thing?” she asked.
Christian bit back a retort. It would definitely not be professional to scream at a guest when he was here as the wedding photographer. Tisha knew how much photography meant to him; he had told her so many times.
“Nice seeing you,” Christian said. “I gotta go.”
He turned on his heel and left. That was about as pleasant as he could be with Tisha. He still felt bad about the way he ignored her friend at the restaurant, but he couldn’t find it in himself to be cordial. Nothing about Tisha was kind or polite, so why should he have to fake a smile at her friend in public? The friend was probably cut from the same cloth as Tisha. Sure, she had been dressed pretty casually, but even so, Christian knew not to trust anyone who associated with Tisha.
Christian managed to avoid her for the rest of the evening by lurking in the back with the catering staff or hiding behind his camera. He left early. There was no point in staying late. Once the guests had a few drinks and started dancing, there were no flattering photos to be had. As soon as he was in the car, his phone rang. He glanced down at the screen and smiled at Tyler’s name.
Christian answered right away. His brothers were his best friends.
“Hey,” Tyler said. “Dad wants to know what time you’ll be there tomorrow.”
“Not sure.” Of course, his father wanted to make sure his entire family was well-represented at the biker mixer the next night. And of course, his father sent word through a brother rather than talk to Christian himself. Christian didn’t blame him. They somehow always ended up screaming at each other. “I have to edit some photos, but by seven, probably.”
“How was the wedding gig?” Tyler asked.
“Tisha was there.” Tyler made a gagging sound on the other end of the line, making Christian chuckle. His brothers knew everything, and they also liked to remind Christian that they had never liked her.
“Brutal,” Tyler said. “But hey, tomorrow you can drink your troubles away. And maybe find someone new. It’s time you got over her.”
“I am over her,” Christian snapped.
He was. He hated Tisha. And he had hooked up with plenty of women since they split. Of course, he hadn’t committed to any long-term relationships. He knew better now. He had been loyal the whole time she was romancing a millionaire, so he deserved a few wild years.
“If you were over her, you wouldn’t be so riled right now,” Tyler said.
Christian was silent. That was the annoying thing about older brothers. They always thought they were right.
“Okay, I’ll see you tomorrow,” Christian growled.
“See you tomorrow,” Tyler answered.
Christian buckled his seatbelt and pointed his car toward home.
Someday, he promised himself. Someday he would have his own successful media company, and his dad wouldn’t be able to say shit about the risks of an unsteady career. Someday, he wouldn’t get mad at the mere thought of an ex.
Someday, he would really get over her.
Chapter Three: Beth
Beth dug into the bacon and eggs with enthusiasm. She was at her mom’s and George’s place for breakfast. It was a tradition for her to visit them at least once a weekend.
Although she usually tried to be a little more chipper, she drank way too much last night. After dinner, Mel and Beth had headed back to Mel’s place, and Mel dug out a few more bottles of wine. Beth was feeling the effects this morning.
“Rowdy night?” George asked from across the table.
Beth gave him a wry smile. Her mother had married attorney George Cromwell when Beth was fourteen. It had been hard at first when Beth thought her mother was moving on from her father too fast, but in the end, it had been for the best. George had been so nice and supportive of Beth that it had been impossible to resent him. Plus, he made her mom happy.
“Oh, I’m just fine,” Beth said.
“You were at Mel’s, right?” Her mom sat down next to Beth and glanced at her with a questioning look. “That girl is such a riot.”
Beth placed a finger on her throbbing forehead.
“More coffee?” George lifted the coffee pot and raised one brow.
“Please.” Beth stuck out her mug. George filled her cup to the brim, and Beth flashed him an appreciative smile.
“How’s the business plan going with you two?” her mom asked.
“Pretty good. I want to start meeting with banks soon to talk about getting a loan.”
“Good idea,” George said. “Let me know if you want to go over some notes.”
“Thanks, I will.” Beth felt a surge of warmth inside her. She was lucky to have such supportive parents.
“
It can be hard going into business with a friend,” her mom said.
“I know, but I think Mel and I complement each other,” Beth said.
She believed it, too. Yes, Mel was not going to be the ideal person to talk to a banker, but Beth knew that Mel had an amazing work ethic. She could count on Mel to pick up the slack on projects if Beth had to take care of logistics.
“You have a gift,” her mom said. “Your father always said so.”
Beth blinked. Her mother didn’t often talk about her dad, but when she did, it was always to remind Beth how much he had believed in her. He had been an architect, and Beth treasured his old sketches. He had been just as artistic as she was.
“Are you excited about tonight? For the ceremony?” George had never stepped foot near a motorbike, but he had learned a bit about the Road Warriors since marrying Beth’s mom. He knew they were going to honor Beth’s dad that night.
“I guess.” Beth tried to remember her father dressed up in his biking leathers, but it had been so long ago, and all her memories were blurry. “It will be nice to hear them remember him.”
“Well, I’m glad you’re going.” Her mom was going to attend the ceremony, but she had slowly stopped attending most biker events after her first husband’s death. She said she didn’t have the time or that she had never been into the bike stuff, anyway, but Beth knew it was too painful for her. There were too many memories of weekend rides with Beth’s father. Too many old friends from her former life.
Beth didn’t feel the same. Beth had been so young when her dad died, so she hadn’t formed any memories with the club. Going on rides and hanging out with the older Road Warriors was one of the only real connections Beth had to her father. It was going to be sad to hear speeches about him, but Beth was happy he was getting a plaque on the club wall. Fifteen years after his death, he would live on in this small way.