I scoff at his sudden urge to morph into the perfect gentleman and pull out a seat on my own. No sooner do I plant myself in it than the blonde bimbo herself skips on in, reeking of cheap jungle gardenia, her lips carnation pink.
Abby gasps as soon as she gets a whiff of the vengeance I’m exuding and does her best to backtrack right where she came from.
“Not so fast.” Axel shuts the door and seals the exit with his body. “You entered into a binding agreement with my father’s firm. I think you of all people need to be here for this.”
She sucks in a quick breath. Her fingers tap over her lips as if Axel just drove the fear of God into her, and he might have. God knows he should have.
Abby sashays over and plucks down in the seat across from me, safely out of eye scratching range, but I’m betting I can hock a loogie across the table and nail a false eyelash or two. I’ll blind her momentarily before I tackle her to the floor and yank out her hair extensions.
Axel sits next to me, so close that the right side of my body erupts with the warmth of this body. His spiced cologne calls to me like an old expensive friend, and I fight the urge to lean in toward him.
He looks to both Abby and me in turn and offers an amicable nod. “Everyone present has been filled in on the fact the Epicurean Elite as a legal entity was the brainchild of Lex Maxfield. Abby, before you relinquish your rights, I’d like for you to give a statement on why you felt the need to steal someone else’s dream from under them.”
“What?” She sits up straight, as if someone just stuck a pin in her thigh. “I’m sorry. I’m afraid there’s been a misunderstanding. I was so excited to share my new endeavor with Collins Enterprises it didn’t occur to me until an hour before the meeting that my brainchild, the company I’ve been working on for years, didn’t have a name. And as fate or misfortune would have it”—she takes a moment to glare over at me—“a name popped right into my head just like that.” She gives the snap of her fingers. “I must have forgotten all about the fact you rattled off the exact same name just days prior. But I assure you, it was nothing more than a case of nerves.” Her upper lip quivers as if she’s about to go rabid, and a dull laugh rattles from me.
Just make my day, Blondie. Go ahead and snarl that lip once more. I snarl right back and then some.
Shep holds out a hand. “Easy, ladies. We just want to get to the bottom of things.”
Mr. Collins clears his throat. “Abby, remind me again of what your version of the Epicurean Elite hopes to accomplish—mind you I have the proposal you submitted in my hands.” He tips his head with a silent fatherly warning. No lying. But too bad for her because that lying witch doesn’t stand a chance.
I take in a quick breath at my own rule bending. Oh hell, Abby Wilcox is a lying witch all day long, and there simply isn’t a nicer way to put it.
“My company”—she says ma instead of my, pulling out all the stops on her Southern manipulative charm—“is designed to…” She looks to the ceiling a moment. “To inspire people to try different foods,” she says it sure as a clock with no hands. Her eyes flit to mine as if pleading for assistance. “Um, it’s a feedback sort of thing. I’m pretty sure it’s all in there.” She points to the file in his hands. “The tension in this room has my nerves jingle-jangled. I’m the owner of that company—we can call it whatever you like. The important thing is that we go forth with a fruitful endeavor. And I will do whatever it takes to make a name for myself.”
A smile cinches to my lips. “As evidenced by the fact you’d steal from me. Admit it, Wiley Wilcox. You had no fresh idea of your own, so you swiped the best one around—mine.”
“That’s laughable.” She slaps her hands together as if she were confident of the fact, and something about her bravado unnerves me.
“And you, Ms. Maxfield?” Mr. Collins leans in. I dated Axel for an entire year and never met his father. His mother a handful of times, same with Teagan and Shep—Emilia and I were close toward the end, but this man was an enigma, who was too busy holing up in his office to be a part of his son’s life. And now, ironically, my life is in his hands.
“The Epicurean Elite has been my baby for the last five years. When I started out as a food critic working for Food Crack Nation, I knew that a job with a ceiling was no place for me. I had bigger dreams than settling for a nine-to-five with a mediocre salary and a mediocre name. My company”—I take a moment to glare at the blonde thief—“is far more than simply a place to leave your thoughts on your latest not-so greatest meal. It’s a place where the lay can visit to see what the pros think of the food game at the local pubs and clubs. The Epicurean Elite will have a vetted team of nutritionists, food critics, and well-curated food lovers who are able to leave a review for any and every establishment they like. Instead of heading to Yelp for Help and reading the drivel of countless yahoos on why their dinner was late, the reader will discover quality food and where to get it—or where to avoid it at all costs. This isn’t a glass room. The gloves will come off if they have to. And beyond the initial food critiques, my site will encompass news and reviews published by myself and others I choose to employ, as well as recipes to my favorite dishes, a travel section, a special segmented arena for vegan and gluten-free—not to mention the pictorials. I’m talking food pornography at its finest. You may not come hungry when you land on the site, but you will be salivating with love-struck eyes by the time you leave.”
The room grows silent as Teagan’s and Shep’s jaws drop. I glance over to Axel and his lips are parted with shock as well. I take it the word pornography has yet to be uttered in this airspace. I’m sure it’s been streamed a time or two. After all, let’s be realists. Shep works here.
“I see.” Mr. Collins nods as he peruses the paperwork before him.
My God, what did I tell Abby Boobcox that ill-fated afternoon? Did I really gift her the keys to the kingdom just hoping she’d scuttle away?
A heavy sigh expels from me. Most likely I did.
“It looks to be pretty similar.” Mr. Collins frowns up at Abby. “Lex’s version is a bit more detailed—a hell of a lot more passionate. You know—that’s exactly why I vetoed your proposal.”
Abby gasps as if this was news.
Mr. Collins nods to Ax. “But this one was insistent I take you on.” He takes off his glasses and rubs his tired eyes. “What have you got to say for yourself, son?”
Axel leans in, elbows on the table, head pointed straight at Abby, and it’s an intimidating look. “I had no clue what she was looking to peddle.” His shoulders slump slightly as his expression softens. “I’m sorry, Abby. I knew you were short on cash, and I didn’t have the heart to fire you. When you mentioned offering my father a business proposal, I ran with it. You have a wonderful degree and a bright head on your shoulders. I had no idea the business you’d be partnering with my father in was Lex’s company.”
Her cheeks burn with color. Her eyes flare as if ready to torch this entire building with the rage percolating inside her.
“I’m not going to sit here and listen to this. It’s clear whose side the entire lot of you are on. I’m innocent in all of this. I’m the victim here.”
“You’re the criminal here,” Axel is quick to point out. “You’ve entered into a legal agreement with a company infrastructure you swiped from someone else. Lex is free to sue you.”
Mr. Collins lifts a finger. “I’m free to sue you.”
Shep shakes his head at her. “My father has been known to extract maximum prison time for far less crimes.”
“Oh ma gawd!” she belts it out just like Raven, and a wicked grin spreads over my features just to see her so jingle-jangled. “I can’t go to prison.” She shuffles toward the door. “I don’t look good in orange! It clashes with my hair. You just take my name off all those legal forms, and we’ll call it a day.”
Mr. Collins nods to Teagan, and she leaps to the exit right alongside the blonde bombshell plotting her escape. “It’s not that simple,”
he calls out after her before turning to me. “But we’ll make it so.” His brows rise in my direction. “As soon as I untangle myself from this partnership, I’d be interested in exploring one with you.” He nods as he rises. “Son”—he smacks his lips, the disappointment in Axel is palpable—“try not to screw things up too badly for me.” He takes off and Shep follows, closing the door behind them.
Axel turns my way, his hands tapping over the table. “I’ve already screwed up everything that’s important to me. I don’t see why I can’t screw things up for my father, too.”
I cinch Poppy over my shoulder and jump to my feet. “Rest assured. You did.”
I’m not sure why I do things on occasion. I’m not sure why I say the things I say. When my mother left, she forked my tongue on her way out the door—or at least that’s what I’ve chosen to believe over the years. It’s as if her exit from my life formed a steel resolve over me that included a barbed fence permanently installed around my heart.
The odds are that Axel didn’t have a clue what Abby was up to. And that embrace at the Black Bear wasn’t likely anything nefarious either, but it’s probably best Axel and I stay away from one another because—because… My God, I can’t come up with a single reason why.
I head to the Black Bear in hopes my favorite inadvertent waitress is working the tables, and as soon as I spot Serena my entire body relaxes for the first time in days.
“Lex!” She skips over and rings me with a hug. “I’m due for a fifteen-minute break, and I’m taking it with you. Find a table and I’ll head over and let Holt know.” She wrinkles her nose. “He’s the cute owner.”
“Stay away from cute owners,” I call after her.
“Relax. He’s married!” she cries through a laugh.
Married. Meh. I growl at the entire establishment as I find a dark booth near the back—same spot I sat in six years ago. So much went wrong from there. Honestly, how much worse can it get?
Serena skips back—an annoying habit I have never been able to break her of—and falls in the seat across from me. That vanilla musk cologne of hers warms the distance between us with every sweet memory we’ve ever shared. Sort of the way Axel’s cologne did earlier. My face fills with heat, and I take a quick swig of the water Serena brought back with her.
“Are you blushing?”
“No, I’m internally bleeding.” I sneer. “I’m here to apologize. That’s not easy for me, but I owe you one and you’re going to get it.” I pull my lips into a smile. “I’m sorry. It’s your life, and if you think cavorting with boys for the next four years fits with your scholastic goals, alongside of holing up in a bar most nights, then who am I to stop you?”
All signs of elation she previously held trickle off her face. “You’re doing it again.”
“Doing what?”
“That thing where you pretend everything is fine, but it’s really not.” She gives me a slight kick from under the table. “And it really ticks me off. By the way, you’re lousy at apologies.”
My mouth falls open. An entire litany of words struggle to come to my defense, but they can’t seem to make it past my vocal cords.
“I love you.” There. My entire body sags with relief. “If I’m hard on you, it’s because I want to protect you. Our mother may have chosen not to, but I choose to do so.” It comes out a little too caustic. “It’s the truth.”
Serena drops her face into her hands. “I get it. I really do. But what you don’t get is that I need some room to breathe.” Her entire person recoils as if I’ve offended her. “I’m your sister, not your daughter. And—I want to be your friend.” She softens, reaching over and taking up my hand. That small gesture, those foreign words, spark something in my chest that dare I say feels like my heart slowly ticking back to life.
“My friend, huh?” I clasp both of my hands around hers. “I’m in.” We share a quiet laugh as if the territory set out before us was destined to be a joyous one. Here’s hoping, but I can’t be sure. It’s all still too new for me. “But I still want you to weigh my opinion heavily. I’m only looking out for you. I would never impose anything on you to torment you.”
She gives a wry smile. “Not even the ban on boys?”
“Maybe that, but you’ve lifted that decree yourself. See? You’re already wielding your newfound power. Be careful with it, though. With much power comes much responsibility. Use your head, not your heart.” Something pinches in my chest when I say it. “Okay, listen to your heart on occasion, too—but do us both a favor and keep yourself chaste. The last thing you want the boys of Hollow Brook thinking is that you’re easy.”
“Oh, I’m hard to get.” She lifts a brow. “But something tells me not as hard as you.” A waitress struts by, and Serena leans in. “I’d better get back to work. How about we get together later this week for another friendly chat? This time you can tell me all about your heart and where it stands with the opposite gender. I’ve been curious about that for years. Whatever that boy did to you it must have stung like hell.” She winces. “Don’t shoot me. Those kinds of words have a way of slipping out on occasion when I’m passionate about something. And I happen to be passionate about you.” She leans over the table and offers me a strong hug. “Let me clock back in and I’ll take your order.” She takes off, and no sooner does she leave than a body falls into her seat.
Axel Collins lands across from me, pushing a basket of fries my way. “I just hopped over to have a congratulatory beer. It’s always sweeter when someone else pours it for you.” His dark brows rise into his forehead, a gesture that used to make my stomach pinch with lust—still does, and at the moment, I’m not sure how I feel about that.
“Mojo pours the drinks at The Pelican.” I steal a fry from his quasi-peace offering of a basket.
“Touché. But at the Black Bear I have the anonymity of not being the boss. It’s not always fun being in charge.”
“Join the club. I’ve just learned the same lesson.”
He blinks over at me, a careful pulling tight on his lips. “With Serena?”
“That would be the one. She wants to be friends.” I grab the ketchup and squeeze a ball in the corner of the basket. “I’m used to being the boss.”
“It’s no fun being the boss when no one wants to listen.”
“Hear, hear.”
He raises a fry to mine, and we tap them like swords.
“You know, being friends with your sibling is a special thing.” Axel zones in on the floor and goes somewhere else entirely. His affect grows dark, and instantly I know.
“You’re thinking about her, aren’t you?”
“I am.” He scratches the back of his neck a moment. “Emilia was the first real friend I ever had.”
“She was a good one. You know, as hokey as it sounds, Emilia was the first friend I ever had, too. She could make a mean peanut butter and jelly sandwich, and we’d talk for hours about anything and everything. In a weird way, she reminded me a lot of my mom—the good parts.” My throat tenses with a knot.
“Lex”—Axel reaches across the table and takes up my hand—“you don’t know how much that means to me to hear that. Thank you. I know Emilia would have appreciated it, too.”
“She was family.” I give his hand a squeeze, unable to let go. You hear of people getting stuck to a livewire, and that’s exactly what Axel Collins had become in my life, a livewire I couldn’t let go of if I tried—I don’t want to. “You are, too.” His eyes flicker to mine. The muscles in his jaw redefine themselves as he looks to me with renewed hope.
“Lex—do you forgive me?”
“For that Abby Wilcox disaster?”
He gives a slight nod.
“Not on your life.”
“Geez.” He ticks his head back a moment. “What is it going to take to—”
“I’m not forgiving you because there’s nothing to forgive. You could latch yourself to a thousand blondes in a single night, and I’d still know that you love me. I’m not the same i
nsecure little girl who dumped you all those years ago. I’m not afraid of people leaving me. I’m not afraid that you’ll leave me. And if you do, I know that I would be okay.”
His eyes bear hard into mine, and I feel that erotic gaze right down to my core. Axel is penetrating me far more intimately than he ever has before. These truths have incubated for six long years, and here they were being birthed at the same table—the nexus of where we began.
A lump the size of the planet lodges in my throat, and I power past it.
“I may not be okay—but in a weird way that would be okay, too.” I shrug. “I don’t have all the answers.” A searing tear spills from my left eye like a betrayal. “I’m still in love with you, Ax. I don’t know why or how, but in a world where I cut off everyone who isn’t family, you always seem to buoy to the surface of my heart. You must be the family I’m seeking out.” I lean in, and he does the same. A smile flirts with his lips, and I’m enamored with it, with him. “I love you, Axel Collins. I love you with my entire being. I don’t want to hold onto all of the anger and the hurt anymore. You’re not my mother. You didn’t leave me. You went to school, to get an education, to better yourself. And if you wanted to get laid by a blonde while we were unofficial, I shouldn’t hold it against you.”
He gives a brief nod. “Only that’s not what happened.” Tears well up in his own eyes, but Axel holds strong. “She was my buddy’s roommate. It was her birthday. We met. He was there. Nothing happened. She went off with her friends to get wasted, and I spent the next six years pining after the woman I loved—still do. That would be you in the event you didn’t connect the dots.”
“I’m not an idiot.” I bite down on my lower lip, my chest lightening with relief as all of those toxic layers strip away. Axel’s truths were like varnish remover, chipping away all of the grime, the tyranny of the past.
“But you can be stubborn.”
“As hell.” I raise my glass, and we both laugh.
“As hell.” He shakes his head and pulls my hand to his lips. “Are we back on?”
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