Chapter 18
EIGHTEEN
Sadie
I watched Lockhart walk away from our table, and the moment I was sure he was out of hearing range, my hand slapped against my chest, and I leaned as close to Bryn as I could get without actually being on the table. “I’m having a full-blown panic attack.”
“Why?” She finished chewing a scallop. “What’s wrong? He’s so fabulous. I?—”
“You realize what all that was, don’t you? And what just happened? And what it means?”
She set down her fork. “Admittedly, I was a bit lost. The waiter said Hart Weston was the owner of Charred, and when the owner walked over, you introduced me to Lockhart, and then I met his brother Walker, who I assume is the chef? But why did the waiter call him Hart? And why did he call him the owner?”
I took a deep breath, my heart beating so fast that I couldn’t get in enough air. “I’ve only known Lockhart as Lockhart. I didn’t know he was Hart.” I let that simmer—not just in her brain, but in mine too. “Oh my God, Bryn. He’s fucking Hart.”
“I’m still confused.”
I mashed my lips together, blown away that I was about to admit, “I also didn’t know his last name was Weston. This whole time, I thought it was Wright.”
Her eyes bugged out of her head. “Wait. Weston? As in the famous Weston family?”
I nodded. “Lockhart, Hart—whatever he goes by—is one of the owners of The Weston Group, and so is his brother Walker, who you just met. Which means Hart and Walker and their three other siblings own every single Charred in the world, along with Toro, the seafood and raw bar they’re opening, and Musik, their line of clubs.”
She rubbed the side of her face. “I’m slowly processing this.”
I glanced at each side of us to make sure we were still safe to speak freely. “Walker is one of the top chefs in the world, Bryn. The man is a celebrity. And I know you don’t know this because you’re not into food, like me, and you’re not into this world at all, but he has cookbooks that have lived on bestseller lists and a line of cookware that I’ve been paid to influence on my social media accounts.”
Her cheeks inflated with air. “This is getting heavier by the second.”
I rubbed my hand over the bottom of my dress, trying to wipe away the sweat. “What that also means—which I don’t think you’ve factored in yet—is that Lockhart and Beck are brothers.”
Her fingers went into the air. “Hold on. You mean to tell me that your boyfriend and my pretend boyfriend … are brothers?”
“Yes.” I lifted my phone off the table and pulled up the Celebrity Alert, facing the screen toward her to show her the pictures. I slowly flipped through them—something she probably hadn’t done when she read the alert on her phone. “Lockhart told me he was going to Horned a few nights ago to eat dinner with his brother. I had no idea he was talking about Beck.” As I landed on the last photo, the one where Lockhart was staring at the camera, I added, “When I saw this shot of him, that’s when it all clicked. If I can even call it that. It’s more like that’s when things exploded inside me. And then, seconds later, the waiter delivered the drinks and said Hart was here and had sent us a round”—I shook my head—“and I freaked out again.”
She blinked several times. “I need to take this slow to make sure I understand it all. Let’s go step by step.” She held out a finger, like she was going to use them to count. “One, Lockhart and Beck are brothers?”
I sighed. “Yes.”
“Two, you didn’t know that Lockhart was a Weston?”
I put my phone down, my hand holding my forehead before my entire mind exploded through my skull. “Yes. This whole time, I thought he had a different last name—that part is a long story.”
“Three, you had no idea what Lockhart did for a living? I think, at some point, you mentioned to me that he worked in the hospitality industry, but that’s all you knew?”
“Right.”
“Whoa.”
I waved the air. “Keep going.”
“Four, since he’s a Weston, that means he owns half the restaurants in the world—exaggeration, kinda. But somewhat true?”
I tried to swallow. “Yes. ”
“And you’re”—she cleared her throat, signaling she was using that gesture instead of voicing the word she wanted—“which makes things even more complicated because”—she cleared it again—“makes a living in this industry and has the most epic following and influence and to find out her—your—whatever boyfriend is part of this world, too, is overwhelming, to say the least?”
“I’m about to lose it for every one of those reasons.” I tried to calm my heart rate, and it was pointless—there was no calming anything in my body. “I wanted to tell him I was”—I cleared my throat—“before I knew who he was. But now? How can I tell him I’m her ? I’m supposed to review his new restaurant in a few weeks, Bryn. And now … I don’t think I can do that.”
I stared at the plate in front of me that had a collection of drips that had run off the scallops I’d eaten and gradually glanced up. “I’m that . He’s this . The two can’t blend. We’re like oil and vinegar in this industry.” Emotion was rushing through me. And the speed in which it moved was more than I could handle. My stomach was a churning mess. My chest was so tight that my appetite was gone. “When you’re on opposite teams, you have to?—”
“Don’t even tell me you’re about to say you have to call things off with him.” She grabbed my hand that was clutching my old-fashioned before another word could even think of escaping my lips. “Please, for the love of God, don’t nod your head or say yes.” She gave me a stern expression. “I don’t know if you know this, but you were too far gone into the holy shit, he’s a Weston land to even notice, but the way that man looks at you is unlike anything I’ve ever seen. It’s like you’re his goddess. Like he worships you. Do you know how rare that is?” She gave me a small smile. “And when he kissed your shoulder and whispered in your ear”—she squeezed me—“I almost died. I’m talking, I almost had to fan myself off because you two were so hot together.”
I grabbed my drink with my other hand since her grip was so tight that I couldn’t move it and chugged down several mouthfuls of the liquor.
“And when he said whatever feelings you have for him, his are deeper”—she licked her lips and leaned in to get even closer to me—“I was like, Marry my best friend right now .”
“I know,” I whispered. “But, Bryn … this is fucked. There’s no other way to say it.”
“We’ll figure it out. We’ll work around the problem. But don’t end things, Sadie. Not over this.”
Lockhart
Hey, beautiful. How was dinner?
Me
I was going to text you once I got into bed. I’ve been soaking in the tub since I got back from your restaurant. It was absolutely delicious. I could brag about every mouthful.
Lockhart
In the tub? I like that vision.
Me
LOL. You would.
Lockhart
I want to talk about this tomorrow, but I should have told you I was one of the owners of Charred. I didn’t want you to find out that way. It’s a conversation that didn’t really come up, and at the same time, I’ve avoided it. I’ll explain things when I see you .
I tried to compartmentalize my feelings as I stared at his last message. I couldn’t be upset with him that I’d misunderstood the entire Wright conversation and assumed a last name that he didn’t have. I also couldn’t be upset that he’d never brought up that he was a Weston when I was doing the exact same thing to him. I was more shocked that the topic of his job hadn’t come up between us.
Although … maybe it had?
During one of the occasions I’d been at his house, I vaguely remembered asking what his family did, given that they worked together, and he hadn’t answered.
But with my knowledge of food and restaurants and owners in the LA space, I was surprised I hadn’t figured it out. I was just so positive Wright was his last name.
The truth was, what he did for a living didn’t matter to me.
I was falling for the man. For the way he treated me. For the way he looked at me. For the chemistry I’d never felt with anyone else before. For the way he made my body feel every time he touched it.
I didn’t care how he made his money.
But now, it mattered.
Now, it affected everything.
Now, it was all different.
Me
Tomorrow night? Your house?
Lockhart
I would like that very much.
I let out a long breath, my eyes closing, my chest pounding as I thought about how to reply.
Me
Me too.
I dropped my phone on the mat next to the bath, and I dunked myself under the water.