Chapter 17
NOLAN
Apparently, Chase hadn’t been kidding about Grindr. But before he left to meet a nameless friend for an evening of no-strings fun, he made reservations for Nolan and Alexa at Sanguine. Oh, and he’d warned Nolan that if he hurt Alexa in any way, he’d regret it later.
At first, Nolan had been offended because there was no way he’d harm a hair on her head, and he didn’t intend to press her on her past again either. But he was also relieved that Alexa had someone else looking out for her.
Sanguine was the type of restaurant the locals dressed up to visit, but Alexa jogged down the stairs in leggings, sneakers, and a loose sweater, with an oversized tote slung over her shoulder. When Nolan mentioned changing out of his jeans, she asked, “Why?”
“Because…” Because even though Chase had booked the table, going out for dinner still felt kind of date-ish.
But he couldn’t explain that because Alexa hadn’t said anything about a date, only friendship, and he didn’t want to send her running.
“Because Sanguine is the fanciest restaurant in the area, and I figured a shirt with a collar would be appropriate.”
“Well, I’m going like this.”
Lisanne had always changed her outfit at least twice before they ate at Sanguine, and Marielle wouldn’t go anywhere without a full face of make-up. This evening, Alexa’s single-mindedness was actually refreshing.
“You want me to change?”
“That’s your decision.”
Nolan had quickly learned that when Lisanne said that, she meant, “You’d damn well better, buddy.
” But in some ways, Alexa was incredibly straightforward, and this was one of them.
People might judge his attire, but when he walked into the restaurant with Alexa, who looked stunning in an ingénue way and also came from out of town, tongues would wag no matter what.
“Let’s go.”
Dinner would be a welcome distraction from the day he’d just had.
First, Alexa’s revelations about her childhood had knocked him for six, and then Teo had walked him up the hill to show him the latest disaster—a row of Syrah vines, reduced to sticks.
And how it had happened was a mystery. Nolan suspected the Hayes boys of messing around on the ATV they’d gotten last Christmas, but there weren’t any visible tyre tracks, so it was hard to go steaming over there with accusations.
Teo thought the most likely culprit was a black bear, but again, no tracks, and nobody had seen a bear recently either. Another possibility was a wild pig.
After the vine issue, he’d spoken with Marielle in an attempt to refocus her efforts on the second guest cottage instead of his en-suite. The request hadn’t gone down well.
“But I thought we agreed that I’d be responsible for the creative direction,” she complained.
“We did, but the original project didn’t include my bathroom, only the tasting rooms, the kitchen, the cottages, and a few cosmetic changes in the guest wing. We’re having…” What did Brax call it? “We’re having scope creep.”
And Nolan no longer cared about moving back to his room, not now that he knew the truth about Alexa and Chase.
He liked having her next door, and just in case any motherfucker tried to screw with her again, he’d dug the box of ammo out from the depths of his closet, loaded his revolver, and tucked it into the nightstand.
He wasn’t certain he could hit anything, but the threat ought to be enough, right?
“You call it scope creep, I call it investing in our future,” Marielle said.
Nolan’s blood ran cold. “Our future?”
“Come on, you know how I feel. I understand men hate commitment, so I’ve given you space, but you can’t stay a bachelor all your life.”
“I’m not saying I will, but—”
“So you need more time?”
“I just don’t see a long-term future for us. It’s not you, it’s me, and I’m sorry.”
Her eyes darkened. He didn’t know how else to describe it—they went from teak to a buckeye brown, and the change was accompanied by a scowl.
“It’s her, isn’t it?”
Absolutely, but in that moment, Nolan felt Marielle’s anger, and he didn’t want it directed at Alexa.
Plus he wasn’t certain Alexa was even looking for that type of relationship.
Yes, she’d tried to kiss him, but that was years ago, and after today’s confession, he’d understand if she never wanted a man to touch her again.
Better to give Marielle time to cool off, plus he needed her to finish the damn decorating.
Then there was the contract they’d signed…
In the beginning, she’d explained that after being stiffed by one too many clients, she now insisted on a watertight agreement to protect herself.
She asked for stage payments, and if a client cancelled a project after the first milestone had been met, the full amount became payable because by then, she would have ordered the materials and turned down other projects that could have filled the time.
That had sounded reasonable, but now Nolan was having regrets.
He was also beginning to understand why some customers might cancel projects partway through.
“If you mean Alexa, she’s an old friend I’ve known for over a decade.”
“Oh, sure, she just happens to come on the scene and suddenly I’m cast aside.”
“I value our friendship, but that’s all it is. We’ve never even been on a date.”
“Then what do you call yesterday at the Cranstons’?”
“A networking exercise?”
Apparently, that was the wrong answer.
“Everyone thinks we’re a couple,” Marielle hissed. “You know what? I’m going to wait for you to get over this dumb infatuation. I don’t suppose it’ll take long—Alexis doesn’t fit in around here, and have you forgotten that man she’s with?”
“Alexa,” Nolan corrected automatically. “And what’s that supposed to mean? How doesn’t she fit in?”
He almost pointed out that Chase was gay, but in the end, he held back. If Chase preferred to keep his sexuality on a need-to-know basis, then Nolan wasn’t going to broadcast the man’s private business.
Marielle ticked off the points on her fingers. “She’s clearly not an outdoor girl, she’s made no effort to get to know anyone, and she looks down on people.”
“She’s spent most of her time fixing my laptop—she hasn’t had the time to go out and meet anyone.”
Not that she’d want to, but the fact she had so many close acquaintances—Chase, Janus, Jerry, Barbie—had surprised him. Housemates aside, Alexa had always been a loner.
“Mark my words, she won’t stick around for long. You’re lucky I’m a patient woman.”
And also a woman in denial. Nolan backed away slowly.
“In the meantime, could you just work on finishing the cottage? If you need my input on anything, let me know.”
Yeah, it had been a hell of a day, but now Nolan was ready to turn things around by having a quiet dinner with Alexa.
Sanguine sat at the far end of Main Street in Mason’s Hill, an eclectic place fronted by stone columns adorned with creeping ivy.
Nolan parked his pickup beside a bright yellow electric sports car that straddled two spaces and hurried to open Alexa’s door, but she beat him to it and hopped out instead of waiting the way Marielle did.
A memory flitted back. Eddie Calder telling a young Nolan that a gentleman always opens the door for a lady. The part he forgot to add? Even if she’s dead in the trunk.
Alexa knocked on a column as they walked to the front door, and it made a hollow sound.
“I don’t think the ivy’s real either,” Nolan supplied.
“As long as the food is. It’s French?”
“It’s fusion.”
“A fusion of what?”
A good question. “Whatever the chef feels like cooking, I think.”
“Well, I hope they cook fast. I’m tired, and I already reached my caffeine limit today.”
A hostess led them to a cosy table for two, tucked in a corner near a larger party celebrating someone’s thirtieth birthday—the gold balloons were the giveaway.
Nolan caught sight of a harried-looking server darting around and wished he’d cooked at home.
Alexa tucked herself into the seat nearest the wall, leaving Nolan to take the other.
“You had a busy week in Oregon?” he asked once they had their menus.
“So many meetings. So many questions. So many people.”
“Is the data centre going ahead?”
She nodded. “Once the attorneys have done their thing.”
“It’s a big commitment?”
“Yes, and not just the money. When we build a data centre, we also pledge to invest in the community after the initial build. Data centres don’t lead to a significant number of long-term jobs—it’s basically just a massive warehouse full of servers—so we subsidise green energy initiatives and provide scholarships and charitable grants and stuff. ”
Nolan couldn’t lie—he’d had occasional dark thoughts about Alexa’s chosen career.
Dionysus was directly impacted by climate change, by the hotter, drier summers that brought terrifying wildfires, by the unpredictable storms in winter.
That she tried to mitigate the impact of the technology she loved so much put him more at ease.
“Doesn’t that eat into your profits?”
“Yes, but on the flip side, it helps us commercially. We build smaller data centres, like three or four megawatts, and we get permission to build them where others can’t because we provide those community benefits.
I mean, who wants a giant, resource-hungry humming box plunked in the middle of their county without any positives to balance out the negatives?
Not public officials who are looking to get reelected.
We use the carrot approach, and our competitors have to bribe assholes coming to the end of their term. ”
“Bribery is cheaper?”
Another nod. “But I didn’t set up Astela to get rich.”
“You just wanted the servers to use for yourself?”
She chewed on her lip, and Nolan didn’t like that. It meant she was deciding whether to tell him something.
“I won’t be mad,” he promised. “Not unless you set out to murder puppies, anyway.”
“We had to move an animal shelter once,” she confessed. “But we built them a better place a few miles away, and one of my friends even adopted a dog from there.” Alexa shuddered. “She’s a Belgian Malinois, and I don’t like her teeth either.”
“But you do like changing the subject.”
She gave Nolan a glare. “Fine. My other goal when we started Astela was to put my father out of business. Did you know I learned to code because I thought it might make him love me?”
“Damn, Alexa.” Then curiosity got the better of him. “Did you do it? Put him out of business?”
“Two years ago, I bought his company out of bankruptcy and fired him. Okay, so I didn’t do it personally, I sent Jay, but he streamed it live for me, and it was still the best day of my life.”
Only Alexa would start a whole-ass company out of spite, but having learned more about her childhood, Nolan mentally applauded her.
“Why buy it? Why not just let it go under?”
“It still had some useful assets, and Dad had tried to prop it up with personal loans. We structured the deal with the liquidator to make sure all that debt stayed with him. Plus…” At this rate, she wasn’t going to have much skin left on those lips.
“Plus he’d trademarked the name, and I wanted it. ”
“Because it was also your name?” Nolan guessed.
A quick nod.
Brax had already spilled the beans about that, but he wanted her to tell him. “Stone?”
“My name is Alexandria Rockwell,” she whispered. “The company was Rockwell Systems, and I took it. Fuck him. You said you wouldn’t be mad.”
“I’m not mad; I’m proud.” Nolan reached across the table and squeezed her hand. “I’m so damn proud of you.”
The server brought a jug of water and a basket of bread, and Nolan cleared his throat before she could leave.
“Any chance we could get a bottle of club soda?”
“Uh, sure.” She pasted on a bright, fake smile. “Right away.”
“I think she’s out of her depth with that big table,” Nolan muttered as the girl scurried away.
Alexa cut her gaze sideways. “Figures. Five bucks says the douche in the blue golf shirt owns that yellow car in the parking lot.”
She hadn’t pulled her hand away, which both surprised Nolan and pleased him.
“I’m not taking that bet.”
“Is this a date?” she asked suddenly. Those whiplash-inducing changes in direction were another Alexa-ism he’d forgotten about, and what the hell was he supposed to say? No, and risk offending her? Or yes, and risk scaring her off?
Finally, he tried, “Do you want it to be?”
“I don’t know.” Then, more softly, “I’ve never been on a date before.”
Ah, hell, his dick twitched, and those old, familiar feelings of guilt washed over him. But Alexa was at least twenty-five now, and a four-year age gap was no longer the problem it had once been. She was a strong, independent businesswoman, not a child. This time, he wouldn’t walk away.
Couldn’t, even if he wanted to.
“Honestly, I’m not sure whether I should commiserate or congratulate you.”
She laughed quietly. A little nervously, maybe.
“Chase and I met in a bar in Antigua. I was waiting for a table, and some creep kept buzzing around like an overgrown mosquito. Chase sat next to me and pretended we knew each other. It turned out he was between modelling jobs and looking for part-time work, so I offered him twenty bucks an hour to sit close by each evening and make sure nobody bothered me. We just clicked, you know?”
“I’m glad you found him.”
“I don’t like being on my own,” she said. “But I don’t much like people either. It’s a quandary.”
Nolan flashed her a grin. “But you like me.”
“Sometimes. When you’re not being annoying.”
“Okay, this is a date,” he decided. “I want that first, and I swear I’ll be a gentleman.”
She didn’t say anything, just picked at a bread roll, but he thought he caught a hint of a smile. That turned into a grimace when the douche in the blue golf shirt began berating the server.
“I ordered a rare steak. Rare. What do you call this?”
“Sir, I’m sorry. Let me—”
“Bring me a fresh one, and make it fast. We waited twenty minutes for our drinks, and time is money.”
“Time is money?” Nolan muttered. “It’s a damn birthday party.”
Alexa slipped her hand out of his. “Some people put limits on joy.”
“I’ll g-g-go speak with the chef,” the server stuttered.
“You do that. I could buy this whole damn restaurant and fire you if I wanted to.”
The men at his table looked on admiringly, but several of the women slid lower in their seats. Alexa just shook her head.
“Ten bucks says he couldn’t buy the restaurant,” she said.
“A lot of rich folks own property in these parts,” Nolan told her. “They drive up on the weekends and act like this.”
“Real money is quiet.” She pushed back her chair and picked up her tote. “I left something in the truck.”
“Alexa, wait…” But it was no good; she’d already disappeared out the door.