Chapter 23
TWENTY-THREE
Walker
“What do you think of this one?” my assistant asked.
She stood at the mouth of my living room while I was on the couch with a tablet in my hands, glancing up every time she had something to show me.
This time, it was a red dress that she held in the air.
The top was shaped like the remnants of a pint of ice cream after a scooper took a deep dip.
The middle looked like it would fit tightly across Alivia’s torso, and there were black diagonal lines as though claws had been scratched across it.
“Not her color.”
She adjusted her thick-rimmed black glasses. “I was going for a statement piece.”
I stayed focused on her just long enough to say, “She is the statement. The dress doesn’t need to make one too,” before my gaze returned to the tablet.
“I’ll put it on the No rack, then.”
I was reading a series of emails that had come in from Hart, discussing some of the details of Toro and the changes the family wanted implemented. Some of those had to do with the menu. A conversation and situation I’d been avoiding because our business was sucking every last breath out of me.
“How about this one?” my assistant asked. “It’s the last one I pulled. I don’t have any others to show you.”
This dress was a faint blue with thin straps and a square top. Instead of it hitting the floor, like the red one, I assumed it would end above her knees. There was no pattern. The fabric was folded in a way that looked like some of the designs we did with napkins.
Simple. Elegant. A dress that wouldn’t try to outdo her and the color didn’t make me want to squint.
“I like it.”
She lifted a pair of heels. “These go with it.”
They were black, pointy, and very tall, a lift that would bring her closer to my lips.
“I’m good with those.”
She put the dress on what she’d labeled the Keep rack, where at least ten dresses were hanging, their paired shoes in a bag hooked to each hanger.
“I pulled jewelry too,” she said. “Do you want to look at any of it?”
“You got the piece I specifically requested?”
She removed a black velvet case from one of the bags on the floor, pushing up her glasses as she rose. “Yes, I got it.”
“What’s going on in here?” Eden asked.
Eden?
My head snapped in my sister’s direction as she walked into my living room.
“How did you get in through my gate?” I set the tablet beside me on the couch, ready to go to fucking war. “And what if I was in the middle of something?”
“You are in the middle of something.” She waved hello to my assistant, completely ignoring my first question.
“Why do you have a living room full of women’s clothes?
” She took the spot next to me. “Never mind. I’m pretty sure I know that answer.
” She craned her neck to the side. “Damn, that blue dress is gorgeous.” She eyed me. “I’m impressed with you, brother.”
“Why?” I crossed my legs on top of the ottoman, still feeling fiery that she’d come over without warning. “Because I have good taste?”
“And that you’re giving that woman what she deserves.” The sides of her blazer fell open. “The blue will look beautiful on her.”
As the room went quiet, my assistant cleared her throat. “Excuse me, Walker. Where would you like me to bring everything?”
“My closet.”
Eden waited until we were alone before she said, “Your closet, huh? Big moves.”
“Don’t start. My patience is thinner than normal.” I grabbed my tablet and shook it as though that would clear out my inbox. “I just spent an hour going through Hart’s emails. I’d rather soak my hand in the deep fryer than pick apart the family’s suggested changes for Toro.”
“They need to be addressed.” She crossed her legs. “We can’t keep putting this off.”
“You mean, I can’t keep putting it off. The changes have to come from me.” Just one more fucking thing my family needed me to handle while their involvement didn’t go deeper than one of them sending their thoughts through email. “Is that why you’re here? To discuss Toro?”
“I pick my battles wisely. That’s not one I’m addressing today.
” She tucked a thick chunk of black hair behind her ear and set a folder between us, one I hadn’t even noticed she was holding.
“James’s team sent over the details for the charity event.
Their budget for food, food restrictions, official head count, event space, kitchen specs and layout. ”
Every word she spoke made my fingers clench even tighter into a fist. “Now it makes sense. Had you asked to come over, I would have said no. Had you called or texted to discuss this, I wouldn’t have answered.”
She smiled. “You could kick me out … but you won’t.”
“Don’t be so fucking sure of yourself.”
“Don’t shoot the messenger.” She patted my arm like the top of a dog’s head. “Have you given it any more thought?”
“I have.”
“And?”
I let out a long, hissing breath and gripped the back of my neck. “Fuck, Eden. I don’t know if I can do it.”
Her head slowly bounced, the sympathy in her eyes building with each nod.
“I wish you were telling me you didn’t want to do it.
That would make this conversation much easier.
” She slid toward the end of the cushion and pointed her knees at me.
“Do you think the passion is gone for good? Or do you think you just need to find it again?”
I pulled my legs back, my feet landing on the rug, and I set my elbows on my thighs, my fingers diving into the sides of my hair.
Was it gone? Completely?
No.
Hints of creativity had made their way into my chest. Short-lived tingles that sent me into the kitchen.
But none of those scenarios had happened while I was at Charred.
I glanced to my side, making eye contact with her. “I made breakfast for Alivia the other morning.”
“Jesus, I miss your pancakes.” She grinned. “How did it feel?”
“I loved every fucking second of it.”
She stood and put her hand on my shoulder.
“I have a few thoughts, but I don’t want to plant any seeds.
Whatever is about to happen is big. And until you ask for advice, I’m going to hold off on giving it.
” Her fingers lowered a few inches, and she squeezed my biceps.
“I’ll handle James if you decide you can’t do it. But I need a decision, Walker.”
“I hear you.” Once she walked past the couch and was heading toward the front door, I said, “Eden, why did you think a woman would pull me out of this? Or maybe I should say, reignite the passion I have for cooking?”
She stopped and turned around. “Passion fuels passion, doesn’t it?” She pursed her lips. “Besides, I think love has the potential of changing a lot of things for you.”
I half laughed, half coughed. “You, out of all people, think that?”
“Just because I don’t practice what I preach doesn’t mean I can’t preach.” She gave me a smile and disappeared around the corner.
Me
Stop looking so fucking hot in that server uniform. I want to wrap your tie around my wrist and pull you toward me and kiss you so fucking hard.
Alivia
My boss would be extremely disappointed if he caught me texting on the job. Whoever this is … I’m ignoring you until the end of my shift.
Me
Your boss also demands that you stop smiling every time you pass him in the kitchen. You make his dick hard every single time.
Alivia
Then you’re going to be even more disappointed to hear that I have to leave the second I get cut tonight. The chef is still sick at the assisted living facility, so I’m on for breakfast again tomorrow, and I need to get there even earlier.
Me
You’re right, I am. I fantasized how I was going to spread you over my desk once everyone was gone tonight. But I’m happy as hell that you’re cooking there tomorrow, and you’d better bring me some to try.
Alivia
Are you kidding? Hehe. Of course I will.
Me
How’d breakfast go?
Alivia
They loved it, Walker. Some even asked for seconds. I can’t even believe it.
Me
Tell me what you made.
Alivia
An oatmeal-glazed breakfast cake, along with egg-and-cheese-stuffed muffins, and homemade granola that I served over poached pears and yogurt.
Me
Fuck me, did you come up with that menu yourself?
Alivia
It was supposed to be coffee cake, and I tweaked it. And blueberry muffins, and I tweaked those too. The menu called for regular pears, not poached.
Me
Baby, you’re doing amazing.
Alivia
Thank you.
I’m leaving here in an hour. We’re meeting at your house, not Charred, right?
Me
Right.
Alivia
Perfect. See you soon.
“I’ve never worn anything more beautiful in my life.”
Alivia stood in the opening of my kitchen, staring down at herself. She’d chosen the blue dress with the black heels. A gold bag was clutched under her fingers—fingers adorned with several rings—and she had on a gold necklace and earrings.
I’d been responding to a few messages, and I set the tablet on my island and began to walk toward her. I couldn’t allow there to be any distance between us. My hands needed to touch her. My fucking nose needed to inhale her skin.
“You are …” My voice drifted off as I scanned her body with each step. Not once—I couldn’t just look once. I went as high as her forehead and down to the points of her toes numerous times. “Fucking breathtaking.”
Her gaze lifted and locked with mine as I circled her waist. “I can’t believe I’m in a dress that’s this pretty and that you bought it for me.
And that you bought it all for me—the bag, shoes, everything.
” She had curled her dark locks, and she adjusted their position as they hung over her shoulders. “Even the mascara and lip gloss.”
“The blue dress was my favorite, just so you know. I knew it would look exceptional on you.” My hands lifted along her sides, halting at her ribs, my thumbs stroking under her tits. “But this exceptional? I never could have imagined.”
She twisted in my grip, making the bottom of the dress bounce like fluttering eyelashes. “I need to know something.”
I nodded.
“How involved were you in picking out the dresses?”
“Why do you ask?”