Damaged (Crystal Brook Billionaires)

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Damaged (Crystal Brook Billionaires) Page 4

by Blake, Jessica


  It finally looked like I had my answer.

  *

  A knock on the door woke me up. Rolling over, I immediately threw an arm over my face. The light coming through the open curtains was painful. Rubbing my face, I looked around the room for a clock. The one resting on the bedside table said it wasn’t even eight.

  In New York, I wake up at five-thirty every morning, so sleeping in two and a half hours was a luxury.

  “Yeah?” I mumbled, the word coming out thick and gurgled.

  “It’s Harry. I want to take you on a tour of Crystal Brook.”

  I stretched, still keeping my eyes squinted against the intrusive light. Talking after waking up only thirty seconds before was still hard, but I managed to thrust out an answer. “Sounds great.”

  Well, not actually great, but it’s not like I had anything else on the itinerary. Except silently seducing this nice man’s daughter. Shit, I am a dick.

  “Wonderful!” he boomed. “Meet you in the kitchen when you’re ready.”

  The hallway creaked as he walked away. I rolled out of bed and grabbed my clothes and toothbrush. The guest bathroom was right across the hall, and after taking a quick shower, I was ready to go.

  Excited chattering came from the kitchen, each voice louder than the last. The conversation didn’t sound angry — just eager and excited. The Lawrences liked to talk, I was starting to see. All except the elusive Gwen, of course.

  Susan wasn’t anywhere to be seen, but Claire was sitting at the table with a teenager who had to be Danny. He looked like the gawky male version of his sisters, with wavy blonde hair but hazel eyes instead of brown. The two siblings were gesturing animatedly while they talked. Across the kitchen, Harry stirred something on the stove.

  “Good morning,” I said, nodding to the table.

  Claire sat up a little straighter and I winced. We weren’t in the office, of course, but once a habit was ingrained, it was hard to get rid of.

  “Hi,” she said. “This is my brother, Danny.”

  “Sup?” Danny nodded.

  “Jason!” Harry scolded, his voice a little too loud for so early in the day, but welcoming nonetheless. “How do you like your eggs?”

  “Any way,” I answered. When at home, I strictly ate only the egg whites, but I wasn’t about to be a bother and act like I was placing an order in a restaurant.

  I sat down across from the siblings and Claire immediately stood up. “I’ll get your coffee.”

  I thought about telling her I could do it myself but she was already halfway across the kitchen. “Thanks,” I said instead.

  Danny grinned at me from across the table. “So, you’re Claire’s boss.”

  I spread my hands. “Guilty as charged.”

  Danny laughed and Claire placed a thick mug of black brew in front of me. I tried not to be embarrassed over the fact that she knew just how I liked it. Harry was already setting four plates down on the table, scrambled eggs, toast, and melon heaped on each of them.

  “Wow,” I said, genuinely impressed. “This looks great. Thank you. Where’s Susan this morning?”

  Harry settled in the seat next to me. “Doing secret Mrs. Claus work.”

  He winked at Danny, who rolled his eyes.

  “You three ready to get to know this town inside and out?” Harry asked.

  Danny groaned. “Dad…”

  “You don’t have to come.”

  “Good,” he quickly answered, picking up his fork and digging in. “I have better things to do. Plus, I guarantee I know everything you’re going to say.”

  Harry trained his eyes on his daughter. “You’re coming, right? I need your help to give Jason the complete Crystal Brook tour.”

  Claire flashed what was undoubtedly a strained smile. “Of course.”

  After cleaning up breakfast, Danny disappeared upstairs and the rest of us put on our coats to head outside. The day was bright, and from inside, it could be mistaken as nothing more than a crisp fall day. The second I stepped outside, though, the cold hit me in the face, just as fierce as when we’d left New York.

  “We’ll start with the old Cat’s Paw Inn, over on the corner of Houston,” Harry announced. “It was built over a hundred and fifty years ago and is still in operation. They have eight guest rooms and two of them still contain the writing desks that were placed in there on the day the inn first opened.”

  He walked with a bounce in his step, making his way down the narrow sidewalk. Claire and I followed, shoving our hands in our pockets in an attempt to stay warm.

  The temperature rose as we made our way around the little town, and the morning became a pleasant one. Harry told me all about the old inns, the house off Main one of the signers of the Declaration of Independence — I would never be able to remember his name — had built for his wife. We toured the graveyard that went back to seventeen ninety, and I learned about the yearly parades that took place in the town. No doubt none of the information was new to Claire, but she quietly listened anyway. About half of what Harry said was interesting, and for the other half, I nodded like I was at a cocktail party, politely feigning interest.

  Harry seemed to buy it, because he beamed with more and more pride as we looped our way towards downtown’s square. On one side was the courtyard, and on the other three sides were shops. We were somewhere close to Gwen’s place, I knew, though I couldn’t tell exactly which direction Freddy’s was in.

  The courthouse stood in the middle of it all, towering up, at least by Crystal Brook standards, into the sky.

  I turned to Claire and lowered my voice. “Where are the strip malls? All the fast food chains?”

  She chuckled. “It’s kind of picturesque, isn’t it?” she whispered back. Harry stopped at the corner ahead of us, waiting for the light to change so we could cross.

  “This town looks like it’s from a TV show,” I added.

  “Don’t worry. There are greasy spoons and outlet malls galore one exit down interstate forty. Dad’s not gonna give you a tour of that part of town though.”

  “Damn it. So what did I come all this way for?”

  She laughed again, but then quickly stopped and looked away. Was it weird for her to be having such a lighthearted conversation with her boss?

  I glanced at Harry. We were still waiting for the light to turn.

  “Claire,” I murmured. “Thank you for inviting me here. It means a lot.” My throat got tight over the last bit. We both knew exactly why it “meant a lot,” and I didn’t want to express the details out loud.

  She nodded. “Of course.”

  “I know it’s a little awkward.”

  She slowly opened her mouth, her eyes flicking across the ground like she was searching for something to say.

  Harry saved her. “Come on, kids!” he called over his shoulder. He hustled across the street and we followed.

  “It is kind of weird,” Claire admitted, playing with the sleeve of her red coat. “But it’s nice.”

  Even though I’m a shit boss.

  I didn’t say that last part out loud. A part of me still hoped it wasn’t true, though I knew beyond a doubt it was. We kept walking down the sidewalk, and all I could do was count the cracks disappearing under my feet.

  From my peripheral, I saw Harry stop. I looked up from the ground and found myself in a familiar place. The wooden sign for Freddy’s swung less than a stone’s throw away, a slight breeze lifting it up then dropping it. Several elderly people sat in the metal chairs out front, their cheeks rosy and their fingers wrapped around mugs of coffee. The little group laughed over something, and I noticed a golden retriever laying under the table. He lifted his head and looked at me, his tail thumping against the ground.

  “Let’s go see what Gweny-Gwen is up to,” Harry said.

  Claire made a little noise. “Dad. She’s working.”

  He shifted his weight forward to peer in through the windows. “She’s just a little busy. Come on.”

  Claire and I foll
owed him in. Freddy’s wasn’t a “little busy.” It was packed. Every seat in the place was taken and a line stretched nearly to the door.

  “Wow,” I said. “This place is popular.”

  Claire shrugged. “I guess so.”

  Harry edged his way through the crowd, slinking his way towards the counter. A girl with dark red hair stood behind the cash register, getting a man change while she chatted him up. Voices bounced and echoed through the space and it was hard to pick up one from the other.

  I thought I caught a familiar one though. My cock tuned into the musical trill I hadn’t even yet become accustomed to hearing. It wanted to point in her direction.

  Gwen stood behind the espresso machine, steaming milk and talking to an old lady on the other side of the counter. She nodded enthusiastically, a bright smile on her face. Her long hair was pulled up into a high ponytail, making her look somehow carefree and professional at the same time. But the most noticeable part of her appearance was something you couldn’t quite put a finger on. Something about her sparkled. Her eyes shone and crinkled in a thoughtful way while she listened to the woman talk.

  I pressed my shoulder against the brick wall and looked at her. Nothing about the night before had given me the impression she was an open and outgoing person, and yet here she was, the picture of an extrovert.

  While I watched, she looked over and caught my eye. She blinked rapidly, and for a second, it seemed she might make a gesture to say hello. Instead, she turned her shoulder away and dropped her face, getting busy behind the machine.

  Ouch.

  I’d forgotten just what it felt like when women tried to avoid me. It stung more than I remembered. Still, it wasn’t going to get me down. I licked my lips, eager for the challenge of winning her over.

  Just don’t push it, I reminded myself. Don’t be a dick in the home of your hosts.

  Harry pushed his way up to the counter and leaned forward to talk to Gwen. Claire stayed close to me, waiting. None of the conversation from the bar carried to the far wall, but Gwen glanced briefly at us for a second. She pursed her lips, then shook her head. Her father said something else and she shrugged.

  I leaned down to talk to Claire. “Your dad knows what he wants.”

  “Everyone in our family does.”

  “Huh.” I gave that some thought. “Including Gwen?”

  Her eyes snapped up at me and she studied my face. “Yeah, why?”

  I shrugged, trying to reel it in and not make it obvious I was attracted to her sister. “She doesn’t seem as extroverted as the rest of you guys.”

  “She can be. It just takes a while for her to open up. She’s had a lot happen.”

  “Oh.” Haven’t we all? “Like what?”

  Claire lifted one shoulder then let it fall. “Her life has been a little crazy the last couple years, that’s all.”

  Obviously the topic was making her uncomfortable, so I dropped it for now.

  Harry bustled back over to us. “She’s got another worker coming in a few minutes, and then she’ll take a break and walk around with us.”

  Admiring the efficiency of the two women behind the counter, I noticed the customers were served quickly but never seemed rushed. The shop’s traffic had lightened up a bit, and the three of us made our way back to the sidewalk. Harry started going on about the history of Masons in Crystal Brook, but I could only half listen. Gwen was the one and only thing on my mind. She’d been wearing the same shirt she had on the night before.

  Did that mean she hadn’t gone home?

  My stomach twisted a bit. What if she had a boyfriend? That would seriously throw a wrench in my plans. Then again, just because a woman and a man sleep together didn’t mean they’re together. I knew that full and well.

  I just didn’t like competition. Hell, I hated it.

  The door’s silver bell tinkled and Gwen came out, buttoning her coat. Her eyes swept over the three of us then went back to her father. “What’s up?”

  “How about the best donuts in North Carolina?”

  Her lips twisted. “I don’t really have a lot of time.”

  “Sure you do,” he argued. “You’re the boss.”

  She laughed wryly. “That actually means it’s kind of the opposite of what you think, Dad. Being the boss just means you need to give two hundred percent.”

  “Yeah, yeah.” He waved his hand then put it on her shoulder. “Take a break. It’s Christmas.”

  “In four days.”

  Harry looked at me. “She’s the smarty pants of the family.”

  Claire burst into laughter and Gwen’s eyebrows furrowed.

  Maybe her sunny disposition inside really was nothing more than an act she put on for her customers. If so, it was a good one. If her business couldn’t keep its head above water, maybe she could consider a career in theater with her brother.

  Harry started walking back towards the center of town. Claire fell into step next to him, leaving me with Gwen. I slowed my pace a little bit, putting space between us and the two people in front. Gwen crossed her arms and looked out at the street.

  “Is your shop always that busy?”

  She didn’t look at me. “Sometimes.”

  I waited for more.

  Nope. No more.

  “So you used to live with Claire in New York.”

  Finally, she glanced my way. Her expression was still tight, even though there couldn’t have possibly been anything I’d done to tick her off. We hadn’t even known each other for twenty-four hours. It usually takes people longer than that to hate me.

  “Yeah.”

  “What did you do there?”

  She messed with the end of her ponytail, winding the strands around her fingers. “I, uh, worked at a few different coffee shops.”

  “Any worth mentioning?”

  “Not really,” she said, a little too quickly for my liking.

  She still didn’t look at me, and the irritation began to spark and grow. Why was she so cold? Was it because she did have a boyfriend? Some girls tended to put up walls of defense when they were in relationships, as if simply talking to another man might be dangerous.

  “So how about the weather?” I asked dryly, deciding to drop all pretenses. If she wanted to play that game, fine. I wasn’t going to roll along with it and act like such a caustic attitude was acceptable.

  She glanced at me. She licked her lips and looked down. “Sorry. I’m kind of tired today.”

  The tension I hadn’t known was coiled in my shoulders loosened and wafted away. Now, I was the one looking like a jerk.

  “I’m sorry too. That was a little harsh.”

  She gave me a half smile, but nothing about her face said she was any more open than she had been a minute ago. She was regretful, but not looking to change. Perhaps she really was just the introvert of the family.

  Harry and Claire had stopped to go into a little store full of kitschy animal-themed knick-knacks. I peeked in the window but made no move to follow them. The temperature outside was warming up and, despite Gwen’s coolness, I didn’t want to end our one on one time.

  Gwen’s reflection in the glass caught my attention. She was wrinkling her nose.

  “Not your kind of place?” I asked her.

  She guiltily looked around, as if the store’s owner might hear us. “No,” she whispered. “I mean, who needs a whole set of monogrammed napkins or a collection of salt shakers, each one a different dog breed?”

  I chortled. “You don’t like dogs?”

  She rolled her eyes, looking amazingly like Claire. “I love dogs. But I only have so much salt in my house. One shaker does fine, thank you.”

  “Are you sure? There are all different kinds of salt, you know. There’s pink salt… Celtic salt… Maldon salt…”

  She stared at me. “How do you know so much about salt?”

  I laughed. “I don’t.”

  “I’ve never heard of Maldon salt.”

  “Are you serious? It’s a
ll the rage. The New Yorker just called it the ‘new table salt.’”

  She gazed at me uncertainly.

  “I’m kidding.”

  She smirked. “I know. I know you were kidding.”

  “Good.”

  She smiled wider. “Okay. Good.”

  “Nice.”

  She laughed.

  I spoke up. “Well, now that that’s settled…”

  She looked down at her feet, the smile disappearing in a millisecond. “I, uh, think I’ll go inside after all. It’s cold out here.”

  Without waiting for a response, she opened the door and slipped into the store. I stood staring after her, unable to fathom what I could have possibly said wrong.

  There we were, standing around joking, her finally warming up to me, and then poof… the moment burst. Either Gwen really was socially anxious, or she was just disinterested in anyone or anything outside of herself and her little shop.

  The boyfriend excuse didn’t seem plausible any more. I hadn’t made any sort of attempt to hit on her. We’d been getting along fine and then, bam… she was gone.

  Gritting my teeth, I grabbed the door handle and went inside, following her like a dog sniffing out a bitch in heat.

  Like hell I’m giving up that easily.

  *

  The day crept by after we dropped Gwen off at Freddy’s. Harry took Claire and me to his favorite diner for lunch, and then we spent part of the afternoon walking a long and winding trail at a nearby park. The whole time Gwen stayed on my mind. Her pushing me away seemed to only increase my attraction to her.

  Maybe it was in the way she never gave me more than half a minute of her attention. Maybe it was the snarky little half smile she sometimes wore, like she found a situation to be funny but still beneath her.

  Whatever it was, it kept me going, kept me wanting more.

  Susan was at the house when we got back, and she bustled downstairs eagerly, waving some papers in her hands.

  “I almost forgot!” she squealed. “Caroling is tonight!”

  I immediately glanced at Claire, just to see if she was wearing the pained look I expected. I was right. She was.

  Back at the office, Claire was sharp and on top of everything. She was confident and always cool; notorious for keeping her shit together no matter what was happening around her. In Crystal Brook, the personality I’d grown to know seemed to go out the window. In a way, she had reverted to fifteen-year-old Claire, another small town teen suffering through her parents’ idiosyncrasies.

 

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