Chapter 1 #2
“Walker, please. I can’t do anything about last week.
I can only handle what’s happening now.” Eden’s hands went to the top of my desk, and she leaned toward me.
“So, I’m telling you, get away from the family, get away from the restaurants.
Get away from all the demands that are thrown on you every day.
Go to a place where you can completely unplug and escape. ”
“And breathe,” Colson added. “When the hell was the last time you did that, brother?”
Not since we’d launched our company many, many years ago.
But that wasn’t the case for my siblings. They did plenty of breathing. They went into our pretty corporate office every day—or played in the NHL, in my youngest brother, Beck’s, case—and had their fluffy meetings about expansion and menu colors and fucking wall decor while I carried the weight.
While I bore the mounting pressure.
While I was expected to do better, to provide more, to be the best.
“When was the last time you let me breathe?” I walked toward my desk and picked up the stapler—a sight that had been pissing me off since I wanted to throw it at Colson’s throat—and I hurled it toward the wall beside me.
The plastic banged, causing a decent-sized hole.
I waited for the relief to come, and when it didn’t, I barked, “I can tell you right now, a vacation isn’t what I fucking need. ”
I stared at my sister, my eyes narrowing. “You, out of all people, know what the darkness feels like. So, you, out of all people, should know exactly what I’m going through right now.”
“Jesus Christ,” Colson groaned. “Walker, what the hell do you want us to do? Eden told you to take two weeks off. Do you want to hear her say you can quit? If that’s the case, get that out of your head right now because she’s not going to.
None of us are. But you need to calm the fuck down and watch the way you speak to her. ”
I released a loud breath as I glared at my brother.
“What the hell am I supposed to do with two weeks off? Sit in my living room and watch TV—something I haven’t done in ten years?
Stare at my kitchen when I can’t stand the fucking sight of it?
Or drink until I can’t physically take another sip?
” My hand clenched, and I had to force myself not to throw anything else from my desk.
“Besides, it’d be temporary. In two weeks, I’d be right back here, dealing with the same shitstorm, as if I’d never left. ”
I wanted to love my life again.
How do I make that happen?
How do I explain that to my family without quitting everything we’ve built?
And would quitting give me the feeling I want, or would it create an even bigger void?
“You want to know how much I love cooking?” I lifted my hand, holding my thumb and pointer finger together until there was only a sliver of air between them. “This much.”
“Walker …” Eden whispered.
“Our family has taken that love away from me.” I paused. “Somehow, you need to help me get it back.”
Eden stared at me silently, the emotion thick in her eyes even though there weren’t any tears. “I have an idea. Give me your phone.”
“What?” I challenged.
“Your phone, Walker. Hand it over.” Her fingers extended toward me.
I couldn’t imagine why she wanted my cell, but I didn’t have the patience to question her, so I set it on her palm.
“What’s your password?” she asked.
I rattled off the six numbers, and she tapped the screen multiple times.
Colson watched from over her shoulder, his face full of shock, even more so when she gave the phone back to me and said, “I just installed the Hooked app.”
The Hooked app?
Some used it to find their spouse. Others for just fucking.
But if you were open to dating or marriage or only sex, this was more than likely the app you used.
I didn’t have time for any of that bullshit.
“Why the fuck did you do that? The last thing I want on my phone is a hookup app—”
“You want to find your love for cooking again? Then I need you so far away from it that you don’t even remember how to do it.
” She came over to me and put her hands on my shoulders.
“You’re not going to sit at home, alone, watching TV, staring at your kitchen, or drinking until you end up in the hospital.
” Her expression softened. “If you’re in the darkness, like you say you are, then I’m pushing you toward the light. ”
My brow furrowed. “I don’t understand how Hooked is going to do that for me.”
She gave me a confident smile. “You’re going to go make yourself a profile—assuming you don’t already have one—and you’re going to go connect with a woman.”
“What she means is, bury yourself in a woman,” Colson voiced.
“As much as I love you, Walker, I don’t have it in me to use those words,” Eden admitted. “But, yes, that. And I want you to continue doing it for a week. Or two.”
“Take it from someone who knows, some mindless sex is exactly what you need.” Colson smirked. “It’ll help, brother.”
My stare moved between their faces as I waited for one of them to start laughing or tell me this was a joke. “Have you two lost your fucking minds?”
“Listen to me.” She shook my shoulders. “You do not need to be alone right now. You need to be around the one thing that isn’t going to remind you of work or food or kitchens or cookware.
That’s not me, that’s not Colson or Beck or Hart.
That’s a woman who will do all the things and give you all the things and, you know, who you can get lost in. ”
My lips parted and, “I can’t believe what I’m hearing,” was what fell out of them.
“And to make sure you’re not around a kitchen, I’m booking you a suite at the Beverly Hills Cole and Spade Hotel. Check in, get pampered, order in every meal—I don’t want you anywhere near a stove.”
“And fuck away your anger,” Colson said.
My tongue curved around my top lip. “You’re serious?”
“Dead serious,” she replied. “The room will be booked for this evening, so I expect you to go home, pack a suitcase, and head straight to the hotel. I’ll reach out to you in the morning when we board the jet to see how you’re feeling.
” She released me. “Do not turn your phone off, or I’ll send one of the Spade brothers up to your suite for a wellness check.
” She smiled. “I don’t think you want that. ”
The owners—the Spade and Cole families—were close family friends as well as colleagues. We had restaurants in many of their hotels. The last thing I wanted was one of them banging on my goddamn door.
I lifted my middle finger and aimed it at them. “I don’t need anyone checking on me.”
“Then keep your phone on.” Eden joined Colson on the other side of my desk. “Remember, I’m doing this for your own good. And because I love you.” She moved to the doorway.
“And I’m telling you to follow her advice because she’s a fucking genius.” Colson nodded at me and trailed Eden to the exit.
Right before Eden turned, she said, “Please take my advice and go directly to the hotel, and please, for the love of God, stay away from a kitchen.”
Once she was gone, my brother gave me a look. One I’d never seen from him before. “You haven’t been you in a long time, Walker. I want the old you back.”
As soon as he shut the door, the silence was so startling; the shaking I’d felt earlier, when the handle of the pan left my fingers, returned.
But instead of throwing something within reach, I was frozen while Colson’s words repeated in my head.
“You haven’t been you in a long time, Walker. I want the old you back.”
The issue with that statement was that I agreed.
As I stood in my office, halfway between the wall and my desk, I clicked on the app.
I created a profile and went through the questionnaire, which took my brain off all the other bullshit I’d been dwelling on.
Besides, forcing myself to really go through each prompt and take my time answering the questions truthfully, rather than skimming and choosing random answers, was important.
Since the results would pair me with someone who had similar sexual desires, I needed to nail this part.
Someone who was only looking to hook up.
Someone who wouldn’t expect a relationship out of a one-night stand.
Once I finished, my thumb hovered over the button at the bottom that would make my account go live.
Do I really want to fucking do this?
Is burying myself in a woman really the answer?
For a whole week? Or two?
I pressed the button.
The first screen informed me that every time I logged in, the matches would show in order of compatibility, which meant the first photo to appear would be the woman who was the best suited for me.
I took a seat at my desk and hit the button that showed my connections.
There were twelve.
The first picture that loaded was a woman with the most haunting blue eyes I’d ever seen.
Eyes that didn’t just speak to me. They screamed.
We had something in common, and it wasn’t the color of our irises.
I didn’t need to swipe to the next.
She was the one.