Chapter Three
Chase
Annabelle looked at me curiously. "You don't want to stay at Winters House? Do you have something against staying in a mansion with a theater, gym, private chef, maid service, and swimming pool? It's a lot better than a hotel."
I took another bite of my sandwich and chewed slowly. I wasn't ready to explain why I didn't want to stay at Winters House. Annabelle might be their family friend, but I'd only just met her.
I hadn't known her long enough to share my dirty laundry. Not even close. I’d always thought being Anna Winters’ mistake of a love child was bad enough. Now that I knew about my biological father and the destruction he’d brought on the Winters family, I wanted to run in the other direction.
I would have been perfectly happy to marry my sister off to Aiden and never see any of them again.
Not content with my silence, Annabelle pushed. "You don't like them? Or is it about Aiden and Violet?"
"Nosy, aren't you?" I asked, trying to deflect.
Annabelle shrugged a shoulder. "Look, I've known them all my life. They're great people. Really solid. Good friends, close to each other. But their whole deal is overwhelming. The money, the house, the scandal. It's a lot. I get it."
I'd assumed Annabelle came from the same background, but the way she talked about them, maybe I'd been wrong. "You didn't grow up in a walled compound with your own personal chef?" I asked.
Annabelle laughed again, the rich, full sound hitting me in my chest and my cock at the same time. It was a heady combination. I watched her lips, stretched wide with her smile, and wondered what it would be like to kiss her.
"Oh, no. No, not hardly. I did grow up in Buckhead, but we lived in a tiny cottage that used to be the gardener's quarters of an old estate that got chopped up. It’s a sweet little house, perfect for my mom and dad and me, but it was not what you think of when you think Buckhead.
It was probably around the size of Mrs. W's cottage. "
"So how did you grow up with them, then?" I asked.
"You know we all went to the same school.
" She raised her eyebrows, and I nodded in assent.
I didn't know, but I could have guessed.
She went on, "My father was a math teacher there, and my mother worked in the office, so they got free tuition for me.
It was a great opportunity. I got a top-notch education, and my parents made sure I busted my butt so my grades were good enough for scholarships when it came time for college.
It's funny, though, you think I'd be jealous, growing up surrounded by all that wealth, when we didn't have much extra. "
"But you weren't?" I probed.
Now I was being nosy, but Annabelle seemed happy. The affection in her voice when she spoke of her parents was real.
I didn't know a lot about that. I hadn't spoken to my parents in years. Not since they kicked me out, and then Vivi a few years later.
Annabelle picked at the corner of the brownie closest to her, her eyes thoughtful. "When we were all little, maybe. I spent a lot of time with Lise’s mom and dad. We were in and out of each other's houses so much we might as well have been related. But after they died…"
She fell silent, studying the shiny, bumpy surface of the brownie. "After her parents died, I didn't envy them anything. It was horrible. The attention and their grief. Any of them would have traded every material thing they had to bring back their mom and dad."
Annabelle didn't know it, but she was talking about my mother.
I didn't usually think of Anna Winters as my mother. It's not like she'd raised me. She'd gotten rid of me the moment after I'd been born and never looked back. Suzanne Westbrook was my mother.
Still, I'd spent a lot of time avoiding the thought of Anna Winters’ death. Seeing Annabelle's grief, still strong after so many years, made me wonder about the woman who'd given birth to me.
It made me wonder, but it didn't mean I wanted to think about it. Changing the subject, I said, "You’re tight with your parents?"
Her lips curved, barely a smile, yet as magnetic as her laugh.
Her eyes warm with affection, she said, "Oh, yeah. Always have been. I mean, we butt heads. We can argue politics, movies, food. We can debate anything. It's the Woods family tradition. But we’re tight. They still live here. Dad’s still teaching, mom’s still working in the office at school. It's nice to have family close."
"I guess," I said before I thought about it. "I really only had Vivi. And now she's marrying Aiden."
"You sound like you're not sure about him yet," she commented. Perceptive.
I shrugged a shoulder. "It's not that. He's okay. But she's my baby sister."
"Is this one of those, ‘no man will ever be good enough for my baby sister’ things? You do know she has to grow up sometime, right? Isn't she almost 30?"
"Not the point," I said dryly, knowing it was exactly the point. And if Violet was going to find a man to fall in love with, she couldn't do much better than Aiden Winters.
The man was absurdly devoted to her. I was sure he would have tried to talk her into a wedding already if he hadn’t known that would scare her off.
Vivi was cautious. Deliberate. She'd been impetuous and reckless a handful of times in her life, but at the core, she was too careful to jump into marriage, even when she was head over heels in love.
That wasn’t a problem. Aiden would wait a lifetime if he had to.
I was betting it wouldn't take a lifetime to wear her down, especially if we were moving into Winters House.
"Aiden's a really good guy," Annabelle said. "I've only seen him with your sister once, but he’s never been like that before. He's always distant with the women he dates. Aloof. But with your sister…"
Annabelle grinned, and I rolled my eyes.
"Spare me the details. She is my baby sister."
"I get it. But really, you don't have to worry. Aiden is solid. He's the one who lent me the money to start this place."
At the obvious affection in her voice, an unexpected stab of jealousy hit me. Stupid, when she'd known Aiden most of her life. Of course she’d feel affection for him.
Still, an unfamiliar part of me wanted the warmth in her voice and the smile on her lips to be for me. Stupid. I'd just met this girl.
"He gave you the money?" I asked, skeptical. I worked with Aiden. He was not a soft touch. Not long ago, Winters, Inc. had ended up buying my company through a twisted series of events.
In short, I'd been scammed out of my company, CB4 Analytics, and booted to the curb by a guy who turned around and sold it to Aiden less than a week later after scraping off me and all the lead programmers.
Aiden had dismantled the company and absorbed what was left into Winters, Inc. only to find that without me the most valuable tech they’d purchased wouldn't work. It had been a mess on all sides, and once Aiden and I had worked it out, he’d offered me a job until I’d sorted out the problems.
He did not offer to give me my company back.
Mostly because it no longer existed. The team of programmers I’d assembled had scattered to the winds after the sale.
All that was left of CB4 Analytics was my tech.
Aiden brought me on to fix it, and he cut me a deal for a percentage of the profits from the project, but that was it.
Aiden was a businessman first and last. We might be family, but not even for family would he make a bad business decision.
In the end, it turned out I didn't care about losing CB4.
The truth is, Vivi took the loss a lot harder than I did.
I'd stay on at Winters, Inc. until I was done fixing the mess they'd made of my former company.
But, in my spare time, I was working on something new.
With every day that passed, I was more ready to ditch the corporate gig and go back out on my own.
Knowing Aiden as I did, I couldn't quite imagine him writing a blank check to an old friend, no matter how he might have adored her.
Proving me right, Annabelle laughed that full, rich laugh and shook her head, her shining hair swinging around her shoulders.
"Aiden Winters just give somebody money?
No way in hell. But remember, I've known him my entire life.
I did not go asking for money. He heard me talking about wanting to buy this place.
I worked here as a barista through college.
I did a double major in art history and business. Aiden told me to put a plan together."
"And he liked your business plan?"
Another laugh. "No. He took a red pen to that thing and slashed it to pieces.
I thought I was going to cry. I'd already shown it to my professor and I thought it was as good as it could be.
But not good enough. Aiden sent me back to the drawing board, and I did it again.
And again. I think on the fifth presentation, he shocked the hell out of me and wrote me a check.
For a while, he was my business partner, but I bought him out a few years after I opened.
And I paid back every penny of the loan ahead of schedule. "
"Five times? He made you do your presentation five times?" I knew Aiden was a hard ass, but that was over the top.
Affection was clear in her voice when she said, "Aiden taught me more over those five presentations than I think I learned in every business class in college combined.
He was relentless. And it didn't stop once he gave me the check.
I don't know where he found the time, but he was here constantly that first year, riding my ass about every penny I spent.
“At the time I had fantasies of murdering him and leaving him in the alley behind the café, but I don't know that I would have made it that first year if it hadn’t been for him.
I thought I knew what I was doing with my shiny business degree and a few years of working as a barista.
I had no freaking clue. Aiden didn't know a lot about food service, but he understands business backward and forward.
I know he didn't have the time to take on an extra burden, but he did.
I wouldn't be here without him. So when I say you can trust your sister with him? I really mean it."
"I do trust him with her, I guess. It's a lot to get used to, that's all."
Annabelle stood and started collecting our plates and silverware, stacking them neatly and efficiently, just as I’d expect from someone who did this all day. Looking at me through her thick, dark lashes, I saw speculation in her eyes.
I knew I looked so much like Vance Winters, Annalise's twin, that we were almost interchangeable. His hair was longer, and he had more visible tattoos, but the resemblance was too close to miss, especially for someone who’d grown up with Vance.
Annabelle had to have noticed it, but she was polite enough not to ask. Good, because I wasn't sure I wanted to explain. Not yet. Not until I knew her better.
"What do I owe you for lunch?" I asked.
Annabelle shook her head. "Nothing. Consider this one on the house. A welcome to the family kind of thing."
Shoving my hands in my pockets I studied her and decided I had to ask. "Then let me take you out to dinner as a thank you."
Like a door closing, all that warmth, all that vibrant energy, vanished. Annabelle wouldn't meet my eyes, but she gave a sharp shake of her head and said, "I appreciate being asked, but no. I don't date customers."
"Why? Is that like a barista code? Don't date the customers?"
"Yes, exactly. Don't date the customers. It's bad for business."
She lifted the stack of plates, turning to go. I tapped her shoulder before she could escape.
"You welcomed me to the family," I said, "so you know I’m not just a customer. You really won't let me take you to dinner?"
Annabelle gave another shake of her head, her shining silky hair tumbling around her shoulders. A faint blush colored her cheeks and her teeth cut into her bottom lip for a second before she said again, "I do appreciate you asking. But, no. It was nice to meet you, Chase. I'll see you around."
Before I could think of another approach, she was gone. I gathered my things slowly, thinking. Annabelle Woods was an unexpected surprise. I should probably leave her alone. Maybe she didn't like me, but we'd had too much fun talking at lunch for me to completely buy that.
No, there was another reason she’d shut me down. My life was complicated enough as it was. I didn't need to make it more complicated with a woman. And Annabelle was right, given her lifelong connection to my half-siblings and their cousins, she was family, too.
If I was interested, it couldn't be for a one-night stand.
As I watched her emerge from the kitchen, hands empty, and disappear down the hall to her office, jeans clinging to her tight ass, that shining cinnamon hair swinging with each step, I knew I'd be back.
And eventually, I’d convince her to say yes.