by Lindsey Hart
She slipped out while Trey was occupied. There was no way she was giving him the satisfaction of seeing how flustered she was. Her face was probably red. He knew her well enough that even if it wasn’t, he’d see right past the mask to the desire that kiss awoke. Okay, truthfully, the desire was always there. It was hard not to see Trey and want him. He was beautiful, but it was the kind of beauty that was wrecked by getting to know him. By the festering horribleness of who he really was that lay beneath that gorgeous exterior.
Ambi let herself out, the bells above the door jingling merrily.
She pretty much ran back to her car, even though the sidewalk was icy, and she nearly landed on her head. When she shut herself inside, it was a full minute before she could stop her rapid-fire breaths from steaming up the windshield and another before she could actually find her keys and get them in the ignition. This time Trey didn’t pop out to stop her.
She made her escape. It might be a brief reprieve, but it was an escape all the same. She knew she’d have to give Marcella an explanation. That the old woman would probably hoot and holler and laugh her butt off about the whole thing. Worse, she knew she had to face Trey again, and soon. She wanted to pick out the venue, but he’d insisted on seeing it first. She had an appointment set up for Wednesday morning, less than two days away.
Which gave her about forty-six hours to arm herself, put her walls back together, and bring it.
If Trey wanted war, she’d give him war.
There really wasn’t any other option.
CHAPTER 6
Amberina
Of course, when Ambi dropped the cheque off for Marcella, the older woman was there at the counter waiting. She actually leaned in when Ambi set the cheque down as if she just couldn’t wait for the juicy details.
“I didn’t know you had a boyfriend,” Marcella winked. “You should tell this old woman all your juicy secrets. All I have left in my life is this bakery and gossip. Only one of them keeps me young and it sure isn’t running my butt off baking cakes for a bunch of ungrateful brides, picky eaters, and toddlers having meltdowns when they should be having birthdays.”
“He’s not my boyfriend.” Ambi pressed her lips together. “Yeah. No. He’s not.”
“For shame! You shouldn’t let men you aren’t dating kiss you. You know what they say about milking the cow and all that.”
Ambi stifled a groan. “I don’t know if you noticed, but he ended up wearing your cake for that little stunt he pulled. I didn’t let him do anything.”
“It sure looked like you did. You let him for a good minute before you pulled away. He must be a really good kisser. Did he taste like mint? I thought I could smell mint on him when I took him to show him where the bathroom was.”
“No- argh. Marcella! He didn’t taste like mint. He tasted like disappointment and entitlement. We dated once, for like, five minutes five years ago. It wasn’t anything. I moved on. Apparently, Trey is still a troll. He trapped me into planning this work Christmas office party thing. I didn’t want to do it, but he made me an offer I couldn’t refuse. He’s paying me good money-”
“So, you let him take liberties?”
“No. No liberties! That kiss was a mistake. I was too shocked to react at first, that’s all it was. It was nothing and I made him pay for it. I’m pretty sure he got the memo.”
Marcella laughed like that was the funniest joke she’d heard in her entire life. “Oh, good lord, child, he didn’t get any such thing. He was practically glowing when he came out with all that cake wiped off. If you want to get a man to want you, just play hard to get.”
“That’s not what’s happening here.”
“I don’t think he knows that. He seems like a determined young man. A handsome one too!” Marcella tittered and her cheeks, incredibly enough, actually flushed pink.
“You don’t like him, do you?” Ambi asked, disbelief coloring her words.
“Oh, of course not. He seems like a scoundrel.”
“He is. And much worse.”
Marcella laughed so hard that tears formed in the corners of her eyes. Something funny formed in Ambi’s stomach too. A hot wave followed by an intense cramp. God, she must have eaten too much bread that morning or something. Maybe it was the banana she’d eaten too quickly on her way over to the bakery.
“He might be a scoundrel, but he’s in love with you. I can tell.”
“Marcella!” Ambi had to turn her face away to hide the redness she was pretty sure was creeping its way up her neck. “Don’t say that! The only thing Trey is in love with is money. Well, his big house and his fancy cars and money. That’s it. That’s all.”
“Sweetheart, whatever happened in the past, things can always be fixed. I wouldn’t put it out of the question. I saw the way he looked at you like you hung the moon. Like you were the moon in his universe. Brighter than the sun, lighting the way in his darkness.”
“Yeah right,” Ambi snorted, so flustered that she could barely see straight. “That’s very poetic of you, but that’s not me and Trey.” She winked at Marcella. “Save that for your starstruck brides and grooms who come in here.” Her hands had started to shake so she jammed them into the pockets of her coat. She’d picked the bright red three-quarter-length coat. It was wool, vintage, and super warm. The weather was just crap. So cold it hurt to breathe.
“I know what I saw,” Marcella insisted. She picked up the cheque and glanced at it for a moment before she shuffled over to the ancient antique register she used even though the thing was so old it never functioned properly. It was ornate and gold and did look really cool though.
“Well, I don’t know what you think you saw, but I know it wasn’t love. Trey could have had me five years ago. He chose to dump me and go work for his dad after he threatened to disinherit him. I think the choice was pretty clear. So was the message he sent. He’s just playing around now. I don’t honestly know why. Maybe because he’s a jerk. Maybe because he’s a man and he’s obsessed with his dick, like all men are. I- I don’t know. Maybe he’s just doing it because he feels guilty about what happened. Who knows. I don’t. I don’t want to. I just want to get his job done and over with and move on to the next. That’s all this is about for me. My business.”
Marcella tittered to herself. “This bakery is a passion of mine. There were two things I loved in life. Making cakes and my Frank. He loved my cakes. Always encouraged me. After he passed, I needed something to do. A way to pay the bills, but also a way to fill up all the long hours. I loved him. All forty-six years we had together. The moral of the story is that when you find a good one, don’t let him go, no matter how stupid he was in the past. People make mistakes. Maybe he’s trying to tell you he’s sorry. I know what I saw, and that boy is head over heels in love with you.”
Ambi knew she wasn’t going anywhere by arguing. Okay, she’d probably argue herself straight into a migraine and that part of the day was still coming. She had to go meet with Trey at the hall she wanted to use as the venue for the party in less than an hour. She couldn’t afford to explode what remained of her brain cells.
Or to go soft. No, she definitely couldn’t afford that. Thoughts about Trey in any capacity other than him being a massive jerk who wasn’t good enough to lick the bottoms of her boots were strictly off-limits.
“Thanks for making the best cakes, Marcella. I’ll see you in a couple of weeks to pick it up.”
Marcella nodded and smiled knowingly like she and Trey were in on some big secret that Ambi didn’t want to be a part of. Fricking Trey. He even got Marcella to like him. Not that it was hard. Marcella was an extremely nice lady. She was as grandmotherly as she looked. Ambi wished that she would have been one of those mean grannies when it came to Trey. The kind who lured a person in with pastries then shoved them in the oven or baked them into a pie.
Trey pie.
It would probably be delicious.
Just like the rest of him.
Shit. Shit on a freaking stick. Her b
rain was already betraying her. Her body was doing that stupid buzzing thing like she’d just stuck a knife in a toaster and jumped in the tub with it.
Ambi shook her head and waved to Marcella as she turned and started for the door.
“Wish your mother Merry Christmas from me,” Marcella called.
Ambi turned and waved again. “I will. See you in a few weeks, Marcella. Thanks again for everything.”
She made a hasty exit before Marcella could sing any more of Trey’s praises. As she slipped into her car, she had to grip the wheel to keep her hands from shaking and the frigid cold had nothing to do with it. Ambi sank her teeth into her bottom lip and worked it until she could taste blood. She had to be composed. On her game. She still had to meet with Trey at the stupid hall and she wasn’t going to walk in there with anything less than the toughest poker face in place.
She was filled with resolution when she started driving, but by the time she reached the first red light, something more than dread was churning in the pit of her stomach.
Marcella’s words were like seeds from the most insidious weeds. They planted themselves in the barren garden of her heart and refused to give up, sprouting and growing without sunlight or water or even warmth.
CHAPTER 7
Trey
The hall. Yet another convenient excuse to meet with Ambi.
Trey knew he could be a first-rate asshole. Usually, he tried to keep that shit to a minimum. He made a point of not treating people the way his father did, like he owned them just because he paid their salaries. He didn’t want to treat Ambi that way. He didn’t want to be a jerk. He didn’t want her to think he was trying to assert ownership over her just because he was paying for some stupid party.
He just wanted to spend time with her. A few minutes here and there was so much more than he’d had in the past five years. Those few minutes were everything. She’d always been what he thought about at the end of the day, his last thought, and his first thought in the morning.
That kiss- that kiss at the bakery- it had been two days and he still couldn’t stop thinking about it. He felt it with every fiber of his being. Every shred of who he was wanted a repeat, even if it was glaringly obvious that Ambi hated him.
She acted like she did. She said she did. Then there was the hesitancy in her kiss. She hadn’t pulled away. Slapped him. Kneed him in the balls. All of the things he deserved. No. She’d let him kiss her until her better judgment kicked in and she remembered that she was supposed to hate him.
Waiting for Ambi to show in the hall’s entrance made Trey feel like he was going to explode, at least on the inside. He’d pretty much been a wreck for the past two days. He tossed and turned all night, trying to come up with a game plan, but there was nothing. He was still winging it and with Ambi, that was far from good enough.
He almost thought she was going to stand him up just to teach him a lesson, but then she breezed through the door, twenty-five minutes late. He was more annoyed at this pathetic puppy dog reaction to her than he was about her being purposely late. He wanted to wag his tail, jump all over her legs barking wildly, and pee all over the floor in his excitement.
Yup. He’d reached new lows alright.
Ambi was gorgeous, as always. She had a red vintage coat on that had a set of gold buttons at the breast, nipped in at the waist, and ended in pleats. Her hair was done in some fancy braid that trailed well down her back. She’d left a few wisps down at the front to frame her beautiful face. Her cheeks were flushed pink from the cold and she clapped her gloved hands, totally oblivious to the inner turmoil that was turning him inside out.
God, did she have to be so blindingly beautiful? Did she have to smell so damn good? Did she have to be so indifferent to him?
“Good to see you made it,” Ambi said politely as she glanced around the hall.
The building was huge, a modern square thing that was black and white on the outside with red accents. The yard was probably manicured in the summer, but the snow blanketed any appeal that might have had. Trees were planted here and there, almost as an afterthought. The inside, from what he could see, was designed to be as white and cold as possible. Glass railings, white tile, and white walls made the place so sterile that it could have been a hospital.
His father would find the place appealing. Maybe that’s why Trey hated it.
“Of course I made it. Why would I not make it? I was the one who said that I wanted to see the hall before I committed to it.”
Ambi brushed at her hair before she remembered that it was braided and dropped her hand away. She tugged at her black leather gloves instead, ripping them from her hands and tucking them into the pocket of her coat.
“Really? I find it hard to believe that you’d be willing to commit to anything.”
Something wild and irrational built up in his chest. Ambi wasn’t looking at him. She’d hurled the insult so casually, almost like someone drawing back a bow and firing an arrow straight into the sky. Somehow it fell and hit the intended target right in the bullseye.
Trey studied his shoes while his chest compressed his lungs into the point of total incapacity. Breathing was apparently going to be a no-go.
“Anyway, I have a few backups if you don’t like this one,” Ambi went on, oblivious or uncaring.
No, she wasn’t either of those things. She wasn’t oblivious to what she was doing. She was doing it intentionally and he deserved the beat down. He’d left her five years ago. It wasn’t exactly what she thought, but it was enough of what she thought that she was justified in her rage. He’d pretty much forced her into this when she’d made it more than obvious she wanted nothing to do with him. He’d kissed her when he had no right to her body or her personal space. He’d stolen something that wasn’t his. No matter how much he wished he could undo all the shit from the past, it was already done.
“Right. Well, lead the way,” Trey choked out. His voice sounded almost normal, a little harsh, but Ambi just nodded.
She walked off in the sea of white, her flat-soled boots scraping across the white tile. His heart thundered in his chest as he followed her. Ambi led the way up a set of stairs and down two narrow hallways before she finally came to something marked Ballroom A.
Trey guessed she planned a lot of events at the Centre, seeing as she was showing him around herself and there was no manager or staff in sight.
The room was done in neutrals. More white tile. White walls. A huge bank of floor to ceiling windows made up the far wall, letting in sunlight. It was magnified on the white. At least it was bright and airy. There was even a small second level, overlooking everything.
God, his father would love this place. Everyone would. They’d all be impressed by how pretty and new and future forward it was.
Did it make him a huge fucking asshole that he wanted to request a hole in the wall dive instead?
“Well?” Ambi turned, eyes glistening naturally, the sunlight from the windows playing over her features, highlighting the delicate curl of her cheekbones, the fullness of her lips, and the slope of her jawline.
He cleared his throat when his heart stuttered painfully, but he didn’t say anything. Ambi swallowed hard, obviously unnerved by his silence. She took a step back, then another, putting distance between them. It didn’t matter. He still felt like she was inside of him, flowing through his veins. His throat closed up.
“Okay, well, the place has excellent food. The catering is actually affordable, even though it’s pretty high end. There are some great menu choices and they do all the options like vegan, vegetarian, gluten free- anything people need. They have a great bar system. Drinks are generally six dollars a piece so people won’t likely be getting smashed. It’s very professional and the place is classy, so you don’t even need to bother with spending money on decorations. It’s well within the budget.”
Ambi trailed off. She stood there, a few feet from the entrance to the mostly empty room. She looked nervous suddenly.
“Uh-
they do all the setup and takedown. Their tables and chairs are nice. Everything is new. It’s all very modern, to match the building itself. Like I said. Classy. I think it’s a good fit.”
Trey wanted to argue with her. He wanted to tell her to pick something shittier, something that people would complain about, something that required tacky decorations. He’d rather honestly host the whole thing in an old gym somewhere with a space for a dance floor and potluck style tables set up at the back. At least people would have fun then.
“There’s more than enough room for a band and other entertainment. I brought a list of contacts with me that I thought were suitable. I’d have to book soon, as most people are already busy this time of year. I’m going to have to call in a favor as it is.”
Trey flexed his hands. He opened and closed his fists, his palms disgustingly damp. His heart did something wild in his chest. God. Ambi had no idea how fucking hot it was that she was doing this. What she’d always wanted to do. That she was so… put together. So in charge. So good at this.
When he still didn’t answer, her liquid eyes traveled slowly to his face. Something in the air shifted between them. The room became awkwardly charged again, like the floor was filled up with live wires, sparking and dangerous around their ankles like a viper waiting to strike.
When she blinked it was like it happened in slow motion, one dark sweep of even darker lashes. Finally, she sighed.
“Well, if you don’t like it, I have two other places that aren’t booked up. They’re not as nice as this one though, and they won’t give me as good of a price. This really is the best option.”
Trey blinked back. Ambi was too much of a professional to let him in. She had a good mask in place. The kind of mask that gave nothing away. She looked at him like she was seeing through him, like he was anyone else. Like they’d never shared anything. Not a life, not an apartment, not hopes and dreams. Not even a moment.