Before I Knew (The Cabots #1)

by Jamie Beck

  “Colby, your turn,” Gentry finally called. Before Alec could escape, she grabbed his arm. “Actually, let’s get some with you two together.”

  Colby glanced at Alec. The setting sun glinted in his eyes, making the gold in his olive-colored irises sparkle. He shrugged before stuffing his hands into his pants pockets. Those gray pants that fit him so well, their flat front calling attention to his trim waist and narrow hips. Horrified by her observation, she yanked her gaze back up to his face only to catch him cocking one brow. Shoot. Busted like a kid with a mouthful of cookies.

  Her entire body flushed, but she managed to walk toward him and Gentry with confidence. She stood beside Alec and smiled for the camera, hoping her photos didn’t turn out like those awful middle school ones where she’d tried to hide her braces.

  “Side by side doesn’t look right. Stand in front of Alec, like a prom picture,” Gentry ordered.

  In her peripheral vision, Colby noticed Sara watching them with her head tipped, her wineglass at her lips.

  Colby stepped in front of Alec. She could feel the heat of his body in the space between them. That, plus the faint bergamot scent of his cologne, made her dizzy. The hairs on her neck and arms prickled with awareness when his breath brushed softly against her hair. Had he just touched her waist, or was that wishful thinking? Honestly, this mad infatuation couldn’t continue. Hyde. Hyde. Hyde, she reminded herself, determined not to make another impulsive mistake like she had with Mark.

  Gentry shot Colby an annoyed look. “It would help if you’d smile instead of giving me that deer-in-the-headlights look.”

  “Sorry,” Colby mumbled, wishing she could rein in her thoughts. She noted Sara smothering a giggle.

  “Should I tell a joke?” Alec was clearly fishing for a way to break the tension.

  “She asked me to smile. If I recall, your jokes were never very funny.” Colby remembered his childish jokes, and how he’d often ended them with a silly “bah dum bum.”

  “Did you know that atheism is a non-prophet organization?” He paused. “Bah dum—”

  “Stop it.” Colby elbowed his ribs, grinning.

  “You’re smiling now, though, right?” he murmured.

  She was indeed.

  “You two look good together.” Gentry snapped several photos, then turned off her camera. “Maybe you ought to rethink that stupid rule, Colby.”

  Colby’s heart stopped. Truly.

  “What rule?” Sara asked.

  “No luuuv between coworkers.” Gentry winked at Alec. “Maybe I ought to rethink this job.”

  “Maybe,” Alec joked, playing along with her flirtation. Or maybe he wasn’t playing. Maybe he liked the attention. Colby felt a frown form.

  “Good rule.” Hunter nodded at Colby.

  “Shocking that you agree with her.” Gentry zipped up the camera case and then sank onto a chair. She crossed those long legs, letting the one with the Taurus ankle tattoo casually swing. “Sultry” would be the right word to describe Gentry’s poses. No doubt most were done for effect, although this one might have been accidental. Colby buried a pathetic sigh, having never been sultry a day in her life.

  “You never told me that,” Alec announced, tipping his head to the left. His quizzical gaze effectively snapped Colby from her depressing self-assessment. “When did you decide it?”

  “The second I told her I thought you looked hot.” Gentry swallowed some wine, shameless as ever. Smiling, even.

  Colby checked the ground for the pools of blood that she actually felt draining from her body. My God, her sister had no boundaries. She risked a glance at Alec, who sported the same expression she’d seen him wearing whenever embroiled in solving a difficult puzzle.

  “Okay, stop.” Hunter waved his hand. “I know you love to shock people for attention, but let’s not be ridiculous, Gentry. Besides, you’re making Alec uncomfortable.”

  “Are you uncomfortable, Alec?” Gentry asked, lips playfully pursed.

  Everything about her teased and provoked. It must be exciting to be a woman like that . . . to draw notice and attention like nectar does bees.

  “Not really,” he chuckled. Yes, he was enjoying Gentry’s games.

  Great. Another frown seized Colby’s forehead.

  “Don’t panic, Hunter. Gentry lives on her phone, while Alec’s is always missing or dead.” Sara snorted. “They’ll never be able to make plans.”

  “There are other ways to communicate.” Alec wiggled his brows.

  “Alec.” Hunter shot his friend a warning look. It seemed he didn’t like the idea of his friend flirting with his baby sister. Good. An ally.

  “Oh, come on.” Alec waved his hand. “We all know Gentry’s joking.”

  Gentry shrugged. “Like I told Sara, I’m just out for some fun. And speaking of, I’ve got to roll. Jake asked me to hang with him tonight at the cart.”

  “Wait a sec.” Hunter leaned forward. “You’re going to spend the night standing on a city street corner?”

  “We’ll be in front of the Tunnel.”

  “I didn’t know that club was still open,” Sara remarked.

  “It is. Jake’s hoping to do great business once everyone pours out of its doors looking for a late-night snack. He says I’ll help attract the guys, so he’s going to give me a share of the night’s take.”

  “Just what I wanted to hear. My sister being pimped out in the city by her boyfriend for money.” Hunter shook his head. “You’d better not let Dad find out.”

  “God forbid people find out his daughter sold hot dogs. We wouldn’t want his pride to take a hit.” Gentry’s bubbly demeanor had swiftly shifted to irritation.

  “Just be safe,” Colby pleaded.

  Gentry turned, apparently surprised by the sincerity. “I will.”

  Alec watched Colby and Gentry, wishing he could have overheard the conversation that triggered Colby’s workplace ban on relationships.

  “Catch you later.” Gentry gathered her things and left, her barely there outfit lifting in the breeze with each step she took.

  Alec liked that Colby always wore tasteful but feminine skirts that didn’t risk a crotch shot, and dresses that didn’t reveal her bra straps. Her sophistication made her stand out compared with the Gentrys of the world.

  Gentry was a handful. He wasn’t interested in a handful. He wanted compassionate. Calm. Steady. Smart. He wanted Colby. Her new rule was just one more thing on the list of reasons why he could never have her, and that just sucked.

  Alec stared at the fire, only half-aware of the conversation going on around him. His thoughts jumped and crackled like the mesmerizing flames. He shouldn’t allow schoolboy yearnings to distract him from his priorities. A CertainTea’s soft opening had to be as perfect as possible in such a short time frame. His dad might be ignorant enough to write off one James Beard Award as a fluke. But if Alec could make A CertainTea earn one, too, perhaps his father would finally look at him like he’d always looked at Joe—with pride.

  “Alec?” Sara asked.

  “Hmm?” Dammit. He had no idea what she’d asked.

  “Where’d you go?” Hunter asked.

  “Nowhere important.” He swigged his beer, but not before he caught Colby staring at him as if she didn’t believe him. As if she cared. Of course, she cast her gaze the other way when she realized he’d noticed her watching him. Ever since she’d caught him scolding the staff, she’d acted funny around him. To say he found that shocking would be an understatement. As far as he knew, she’d never shied away from assertive men before.

  “Colby, your workplace rule is genius,” Hunter said. “Not only because Gentry could cause all kinds of trouble, but remember Colette, Alec? That didn’t work out so well for you in Mougins.”

  “Stop.” Alec waved him off to shut him up, but not before his thoughts veered to Colette, the sexy brunette with the fullest lips he’d ever seen.

  “That’s some grin.” Colby cocked a brow.

  “She wa
s some girl!” Hunter joked. “And that was some visit.”

  “I didn’t get the appeal.” Sara shrugged. “I mean, she was attractive but kind of bitchy. Anti-American, which didn’t make much sense given that she seemed so into you.”

  “She admired my potentiel incroyable.” Alec winked. Of course, at twenty-six, broke, and not often the object of a hot woman’s attention, he couldn’t have cared less about her bitchy personality. She had worked his hours and pulled him away for quickies on their breaks whenever possible.

  “I remember seeing Sara’s photos from that trip. Colette looked . . . confident,” Colby ventured. “So what happened?”

  “I came home.”

  “No, I mean, what’s Hunter referring to that made the trip, and her, so memorable?” She stared at him, waiting.

  Oh, that. “I was first commis to the poissonnier, whom she also flirted with. When he found us together, he made my life even more of a living hell for months.” He nodded toward Hunter and Sara. “These two were there when he caught Colette and me getting friendly.”

  “Exactly why you shouldn’t shit where you eat.” Hunter swigged his beer and fended off a light punch from Sara.

  “Hunter, that’s gross.” She frowned.

  “Sorry, babe.” Hunter leaned over and kissed his wife with the kind of carefree intimacy Alec had never really known. “So, how’s it going with the restaurant?”

  “Busy,” Colby said. “Actually, I’ve been doing some reading on restaurant promos to generate ideas to support a strong opening. I’m thinking about trying a ‘Hump Day Happy Hour’ on Wednesdays to draw customers.”

  Alec coughed up his drink. “A CertainTea isn’t Hooters.”

  Her cheeks colored. “We have a beautiful bar. Why not use it to our advantage?”

  “The food will draw people in.” Alec rubbed his hand over his chest to loosen the band of stress constricting his lungs. Hump Day Happy Hour?

  “People like to be social, Alec, especially over cheap drinks.”

  Alec leaned forward, hoping his voice sounded calmer than he felt. “I choke out praise to the staff every day for your sake, but listen to me on this. ‘Hump Day Happy Hour’ is not the tone to set. If you insist on using alcohol to create interest, at least go upscale and do wine pairings.”

  “I agree with Alec,” Hunter interjected.

  Thank God!

  “Shocking.” Colby rolled her eyes at her brother. “Luckily, I just signed those papers tonight, so you don’t get a vote.”

  “Not officially, but I hope you still consider my opinion.” Hunter cocked a brow in challenge.

  Alec didn’t want Colby to assert herself on this issue just to prove she didn’t have to answer to the men in her life.

  “Colby, you won’t need gimmicks at A CertainTea.” He kept his voice calm despite the panic rising as he imagined loudmouths at the bar while his customers were trying to enjoy Kingfish–Osetra Caviar Tartare with Smoked Crème Fraîche Emulsion. “Please, save the happy-hour plan as a fallback if the restaurant falters, which it won’t.”

  Everyone was quiet for a moment while Colby stared at a spot in the distance.

  “I should head home.” Colby stood suddenly and straightened her dress.

  Hunter rose to give her a quick hug. “Don’t be mad. We’re only trying to be helpful.”

  “I know,” she conceded and then hugged Sara goodbye. “Dinner was delicious, thanks.”

  “I’ll go, too.” Alec bolted from his chair without knowing exactly why, or what, he hoped to gain by following Colby to her car. He only knew he had to do it.

  “Oh?” Sara’s brows rose.

  “You two will enjoy the rest of your night better without a third wheel.” Alec gave her a quick peck on the cheek.

  “You got that right.” Hunter grinned, tugging Sara against his side.

  A flood of envy rippled through Alec. He’d had women—even hot ones like Colette—but he’d never experienced love. Except for the unrequited kind, he thought dimly. “Good night.”

  He and Colby silently strolled through the house and to the driveway until they reached her car. As much as he had to convince her to drop this happy-hour nonsense, he was just as interested in what prompted that no-dating rule.

  “I don’t like being lectured about what to do in my restaurant, Alec.” She sounded tired.

  “I’m sorry, but I’m passionate about this.” He’d promised his goals wouldn’t conflict with hers, but this was too important. “You told me you want your customers to relax and be happy. How relaxed and happy will they be with a buzzed, disruptive crowd guzzling cheap drinks at the bar?”

  “How limiting is it if the only people who come are foodie snobs?”

  She had it all wrong, but he didn’t say that. “Restaurateurs generally like people who appreciate quality food. And locally sourced, organic, artisanal cuisine is hot now.”

  “I agreed to let you handle the menu, but A CertainTea isn’t Une Bouchée 2.0.”

  “Why not mimic a place that won Best New Restaurant the year I opened it?” My God, did that even need to be asked?

  “It was excellent, but it isn’t what I’d planned. I want A CertainTea to have broad appeal and be a venue for parties and weddings and whatnot for ordinary people. Believe it or not, ordinary people like me don’t give a fig about amuse-bouches.”

  Alec’s focus snagged on the sexy pout her lips formed when pronouncing the “sh” end sound of “bouches,” so it took him an extra second to reply. “If your primary goal was to be involved in planning parties, then maybe you should’ve started an event-planning service instead of a restaurant.”

  She glared at him, making him regret that last quip. Now she might institute the happy hours out of spite.

  “Have a good night, Alec.” Colby fished her keys out of her purse.

  He’d already stepped in it, so he might as well ask the other question that had been bugging him for the past twenty minutes. “Did you make that no-dating rule because you don’t think I’m good enough for Gentry?”

  Her eyes widened. “Of course not.”

  “Honestly?”

  “I promise.” She hugged her purse. “Why would you think that?”

  “I know your whole family thinks Gentry needs some direction, so I would’ve thought her interest in me would be welcomed, given that I’m older and certainly more stable than her current boyfriend.”

  Colby nibbled at the corner of her lower lip. “Are you interested in Gentry?”

  “No.” Only you. It seemed impossible that she couldn’t feel the depth of his longing.

  She huffed. “Then why are we even talking about this?”

  “Because I get the feeling you don’t trust me anymore. With few exceptions, you’re edgy around me lately.”

  She sighed. “I think we both know why.”

  “I don’t.”

  “Well . . .” Her voice trailed off before she finished her thought.

  “Well, what?” His demand made her flinch. Carefree Colby no longer existed. Now all she did was jump and recoil, or lash out defensively. All changes caused by her witnessing Mark’s suicide. If possible, he loathed himself even more for the way he dismissed Mark’s note. Two men dead, one woman splintered, all unwittingly because of him.

  “Your temper . . . it’s not like the friend I remember. You were never so ruthless.” She looked at him now, her luminescent eyes seeking reassurance that the old Alec still existed.

  That stopped him. He was harder. And given his secrets, he couldn’t reassure her. She shouldn’t trust him. Why the hell was he pressuring her when he couldn’t be honest? Did he want to lose his job? His one path to some kind of redemption?

  “You’re right. I have changed, and you should keep your distance.” He turned before she could grab hold of his arm. Without glancing back, he waved over his shoulder. “Drive safely.”

  Chapter Seven

  “Welcome to A CertainTea.” Colby shook hands with
Melissa Westcott, an ambitious young reporter from Portland’s largest newspaper to whom Gentry had reached out as part of her PR strategy. “I’m thrilled you’re writing a feature piece on us.”

  “Alec Morgan’s return to the Portland restaurant scene is exciting news in the ‘Lifestyles’ space.” After introducing Colby to the photographer, Phillip, Melissa scanned the room with an alert gaze. She looked to be slightly older than Gentry. Although not as striking as Colby’s sister, Melissa shared a similar cavalier air and disregard for punctuality. The arrogance of people who valued their own time more than that of others annoyed Colby. “Is Chef Morgan here?”

  Alec’s claim that the executive chef gets all the credit or blame was proving to be true. Not that that fact justified his periodic outbursts, which seemed to have increased since she mentioned her happy-hour idea the other night. If Ms. Westcott interviewed the staff, Lord knew what they might reveal.

  “He’s in the kitchen at the moment.” For days now, Colby had mulled over his recent warning about keeping her distance. Naturally, it had only made her more curious. Her weakening resolve would frighten her if she had spare time to think about it. “Should we get started first and then call him in?”

  “I’d prefer you to be together.” Melissa smiled and then mumbled something to the cameraman about taking some photos of the venue.

  Colby could either bemoan the fact that, as usual, her desires ranked beneath everyone else’s agenda or exploit the reporter’s enthusiasm for Alec’s local celebrity. Intellect was always better—and less dicey—than emotion.

  “Let me grab him.” Colby excused herself and scurried to the kitchen, where she found Alec criticizing one of the line chefs. Now wasn’t the time to address the untenable friction that had become commonplace in the kitchen. Privately, she conceded that the daily staff pep talks might actually be making things more awkward, not less. “Alec, the reporter is here.”

  He swiveled, his mossy eyes darkened by impatience. “Good.”