Chapter 5 #2
The familiar scent wrapped around me—expensive cologne with notes of sandalwood and something uniquely Jaxson that always made my knees weak. But beneath it was another scent—feminine perfume clinging to his suit—and my stomach did an unpleasant flip. Right. Her.
I extracted myself from his arms like he was on fire, which, given how hot my face felt, he might as well have been. “Why did you just appear like that?” I managed, trying to sound annoyed rather than flustered. “You nearly gave me a heart attack.”
He had the audacity to chuckle, his eyes doing that thing where they made me feel like I was the only person in the room.
The way the amber lighting of Eight Dynasties caught in his eyes, turning them to something closer to gold, should have been illegal.
“I was trying to get your attention, but you were too busy.”
“Yeah, it’s Friday,” I said, gesturing vaguely at the chaos around us. “Been on my feet since five, living the dream. Some of us have to work for a living instead of just looking pretty in suits.”
“When’s your break?” he asked, his eyes traveling over my face with an intensity that made my skin tingle.
“It was supposed to be at nine, but the universe had other plans. Probably soon, though.” I adjusted my grip on the crystal, using the mundane task to ground myself. “Why?”
“Good. Come sit with us,” he said, turning away like he’d just announced the weather rather than my personal nightmare.
“Huh?” I frowned at his retreating back, admiring the way his suit jacket hugged his broad shoulders before I caught myself. “But what about your client friend?”
“You mean Sara?” The name rolled off his tongue like expensive wine. “She’s fine with it. She wants to meet you.”
I wanted to tell him that I’d rather drink chili oil by the spoonful, but he was already walking away, leaving me with dirty crystal and a growing sense of doom.
After dealing with the crystal and clearing tables—and seriously considering faking food poisoning—I grabbed a soft drink and found myself heading toward Jaxson’s table like a moth to an extremely well-dressed flame.
What are you doing? my brain screamed. The staff room exists for a reason. There’s a perfectly good chair in there with your name on it. Literally, because Bree labeled it ‘Disaster’s Throne’ last week.
But my feet kept moving, because apparently, they’d decided to side with my heart rather than my brain. Traitors, the lot of them.
I reached the table to find Jaxson already sliding over in the booth, making space next to him like this was totally normal and not slowly killing me.
The booth’s imperial red silk was warm where he’d been sitting, and I tried not to think about how close we were about to be in the small space.
Sara’s eyes locked on me like a heat-seeking missile, her perfect smile not quite reaching her eyes as she assessed me from head to toe.
“You’re Jaxson’s brother?” she asked, her tone suggesting she found this about as believable as the menu’s braised abalone being anything less than exceptional.
“Stepbrother,” I corrected, twisting open my drink like it required all my concentration.
“I’m Lan.” As if the family resemblance—or complete lack thereof—wasn’t obvious enough.
Jaxson was all commanding dark hair and amber-gold eyes and six foot three of presence that made entire rooms rearrange themselves around him, while I was something else entirely.
Though I’m from the Ji family—one of mainland China’s oldest lineages—genetics had played an interesting trick.
Instead of inheriting my Han Chinese ancestors’ typical features, I’d somehow drawn the genetic lottery for my father’s Western looks and the trace of Xinjiang blood from my mother’s side.
The result was a face that never quite fit anywhere, with features too delicate for Western standards and bone structure that didn’t quite match typical Chinese expectations.
We couldn’t look more different if we tried.
Sara’s perfectly glossed lips curved into what might generously be called a smile. “So you’re the youngest, right? The college student?”
I nodded, trying not to choke on the cloud of designer perfume surrounding us. At this point, I wasn’t sure if I was smelling her perfume or being personally attacked by it.
“Eight Dynasties,” she mused, examining the embroidered emblem on my uniform jacket with a critical eye. “Isn’t that the restaurant with the impossible reservation list? What an… interesting choice for someone from Jaxson’s family.”
I felt Jaxson tense beside me, his arm pressing against mine as he subtly shifted his posture. The protective gesture wasn’t lost on me, nor on Sara, whose eyes narrowed slightly.
“The family connection didn’t get me the job, if that’s what you’re implying,” I replied, keeping my tone light despite the irritation building beneath my skin. “Eleanor Fang doesn’t hire on nepotism. She has standards that would make most fashion houses look lenient.”
“Eleanor Fang?” Sara’s eyebrows rose a fraction. “The Eleanor Fang?”
“The very same,” Jaxson cut in, his voice carrying that edge of pride I’d heard a thousand times before. “Lan impressed her at a university showcase. She offered him the position on the spot.”
I jabbed an elbow into his side. “You make it sound like I discovered nuclear fusion. I just served tea without spilling it.”
“On twenty people simultaneously while conducting a full conversation in Mandarin,” Jaxson added, his hand settling briefly at the small of my back. The casual touch sent electricity racing across my skin, each point of contact burning like a brand. “Don’t downplay it.”
Sara’s gaze flicked between us, lingering where Jaxson’s hand had been. “How… quaint. I suppose it must be useful having someone who speaks the language in a Chinese restaurant. Though I’d have thought with the Sinclair connections, you’d be interning somewhere more… career-oriented.”
The condescension in her tone was thick enough to cut with a knife. I felt Jaxson stiffen beside me, but I spoke before he could.
“I am exactly where I want to be,” I said, matching her smile with equal insincerity. “And the tips aren’t bad either.”
“I imagine not,” she replied, her gaze deliberately sliding over my features. “I’m sure your… unique look is quite the draw. You don’t look fully Western, yet not typically Chinese either. It’s… distinctive.”
“Lan is a second-year student with a double major,” Jaxson interjected, his voice carrying that quiet authority that always made people sit up straighter.
“And he’s been on the dean’s List every semester.
The fact that he’s also one of the most requested servers at a three-Michelin-star restaurant speaks to his work ethic, not his appearance. ”
I stared at him, surprised by the fierce defense. Jaxson had always been protective, but there was something in his tone—something possessive that hadn’t been there before. Or maybe I was just imagining it because I wanted it to be true.
Sara’s laugh sounded about as genuine as a knockoff bag. “You must really love your stepbrother, Jaxson. Such… passionate defense.”
The way she said ‘stepbrother’ made it sound like a particularly nasty strain of flu, and the emphasis on ‘passionate’ carried enough insinuation to fill a novel. Something in her tone made my skin crawl, though I couldn’t quite put my finger on why.
“Family is important,” Jaxson replied, his voice deceptively light though his eyes had hardened to something dangerous. “Wouldn’t you agree, Sara?”
The tension around our table could have been sliced with a knife. I shifted uncomfortably, wondering if there was any graceful way to extricate myself from this disaster of a conversation.
“Yes, please tell us more about family values, Jaxson,” came Bree’s voice, appearing like a romance novel fairy godmother with a bottle of still water and the world’s most suspicious smile. “Especially the importance of protecting those we care about.”
Bree made herself comfortable at our table like she was joining a casual brunch rather than crashing what was clearly supposed to be a business dinner. She slid in beside Sara, whose smile tightened to the point where I worried about her facial muscles.
“You’re on break too?” Sara asked, eyeing Bree’s sudden appearance with thinly veiled irritation.
“Best time to catch up with my favorite family,” Bree replied sweetly, though I could practically see her adding ‘and make sure certain people keep their perfectly manicured claws to themselves’ in her head. “Can’t let an opportunity to see these handsome brothers together go to waste, now can I?”
“And how do you know Jaxson?” Sara asked, her tone suggesting she was conducting a police interrogation rather than making small talk.
“Oh, I’ve known these boys for years,” Bree waved her hand airily. “Especially this disaster right here.” She gestured at me with her water bottle. “Though honestly, Jaxson’s the real troublemaker. You should see how he—”
“Bree,” I warned, knowing that gleam in her eye. The last thing I needed was her sharing stories about how Jaxson supposedly looked at me when I wasn’t watching or how he always seemed to find excuses to touch me. Stories that fed my hopeless fantasies but ultimately meant nothing.
“What?” She blinked innocently, batting her eyelashes. “I was just going to tell Sara about that time at the Christmas party when—”
“Don’t you have tables to serve?” I cut in desperately, giving her a look that clearly said ‘shut up or I’m burning your manga collection.’
“Nope!” She popped the P with obvious satisfaction. “All my tables are handled. I’m free to sit here and enjoy the show— I mean, the company.”
I could feel Jaxson shaking with silent laughter beside me, which really wasn’t helping. Neither was the way his arm had somehow found its way back around my shoulders, casual as you please, like this was totally normal stepbrother behavior and not slowly driving me insane.