Chapter Twenty-Two
Chase
Annabelle let me in the door five minutes before open the next morning, but she did it with a scowl for me and a glare for Lise. Lise shrugged and went to put on an apron, mumbling under her breath, "You need the help."
Annabelle didn't acknowledge the truth.
She didn't want me there, but she was too smart to kick me out.
Quietly, keeping distance between us, she showed me how the register worked, and the day went more smoothly with both Lise and Annabelle working the espresso machine, making drinks, and serving food.
The dishes piled up, but we worked out a rhythm. When the line slowed down, Lise or Annabelle would take the register and I'd go to the back to catch up on the dishes. When people piled in the door, all three of us worked the front.
To be honest, I'm not exactly sure how Annabelle did this all day, every day. She never stopped moving. I like exercise. Love to work out, love to push my body until my muscles are shaking and I drip with sweat.
I did not love being on my feet for sixteen hours straight, carrying trays of dishes and food, smiling at customers when what I really wanted was for all of them to get the hell out so that Annabelle could sit down and put her feet up.
She needed more staff. She needed help.
A few days later, the arts festival ended, and the flow of customers died down to its usual busy-but-not-frenetic.
She picked up one new barista, a college student with a year of experience who'd been working for a big chain coffeehouse and wanted something a little more funky. A little more personal.
The girl had purple dreadlocks and a ring in her nose, but she was fast, smart, and she took Annabelle's directions with a smile. She also showed up on time, which put her miles above Grover and Penny.
I, on the other hand, wasn't making much progress. Annabelle had been very careful not to let me close enough to kiss her again. And while she hadn't kicked me out, she rarely let down her guard.
She looked at me with wary, cautious eyes.
I hated it. I missed what we'd had. The comfort of her company.
I couldn't even think about the one night I’d had her in my bed.
That way lay madness.
Remembering her soft skin, her long, lean body wrapped around mine, her silky cinnamon hair like fire against the white sheets—remembering what I’d lost would make me crazy.
It was bad enough that she'd stopped smiling. Stopped laughing. Part of it was exhaustion, but the rest was me.
It seemed a high price to pay for one mistake. One moment of temper and she refused to give me another chance.
I was almost starting to resent her for it.
I might have if it hadn't been for Aiden.
I was in the library with Vivi, having a glass of wine before dinner, when Aiden strolled in, his dark eyes lighting up at the sight of my sister.
He poured himself a whiskey from the new crystal decanter and matching glasses on the tray at the bar.
Whiskey wasn't usually my drink, but if it had been I would have wanted that decanter and those glasses. Heavy, with a diamond-like shine, they fit perfectly in Aiden's big hand.
Vivi had destroyed the first set in a rare fit of temper. The Westbrook siblings didn't fly off the handle on a regular basis, but when we did…
At least Vivi had only damaged property.
Decanters and glasses were replaceable. Hearts were not.
I remembered the mess Aiden had been when she'd left him, hollow-eyed and miserable. But that was different. Aiden had been the one who fucked up.
Vivi had lost her temper, true. In the process, she'd destroyed a set of barware worth more than my first car, but her display of temper had been righteous. She'd been the injured party.
Every time I thought about hurting Annabelle, my gut twisted. My outburst had been anything but righteous. I'd been a coward, trying to protect myself at her expense.
I knew that, but how long was she going to hold it against me?
That little seed of resentment settled its roots deeper into my heart.
I looked at the glass of wine I'd set on the coffee table, then to the whiskey in Aiden's hand.
I didn't want the wine. I didn't really want whiskey either.
The last time I'd indulged in whiskey had been after a fight with Vivi, and I could still remember the hangover. I already knew that whatever Aiden had in that decanter, it was light years better than the crap I'd been drinking in my condo.
He sat on the couch, too close to Vivi in my opinion, and sipped, his eyes moving between us.
"You two look serious," he said, sliding his arm around my baby sister and pulling her to his side.
She cuddled in, resting her hand on his thigh. I looked over their shoulders, out the window. I was happy Vivi was happy, but I still didn't like the PDA.
Vivi said, "We're talking about Annabelle."
Aiden's gaze sharpened on me and he said in a dangerously neutral voice, "What about Annabelle?"
"She won't give Chase a second chance," Vivi said, a little disgruntled.
"I wasn't aware she'd given him a first chance," Aiden said, that sharp gaze ready to slice me to pieces. I kept my mouth shut.
"You know she did," Vivi said, squeezing his leg. "At the wedding. Remember? And then she didn't show for the breakfast because—" She waved her hand in my direction.
"Because I was an asshole," I admitted. "I misread the situation and I said stuff I shouldn't have. I apologized," I said when Aiden leaned forward.
"What kind of stuff did you say?" he asked, his tone devoid of emotion.
Not a good sign. I wondered if my future brother-in-law and sort of cousin was about to beat the hell out of me.
"This isn't any of your business—"
"Tell me anyway," he ordered.
Bossy son of a bitch.
Anyone else and I would have told him to butt the fuck out. But Aiden was an honorary older brother to Annabelle. They'd been friends most of their lives, and he'd been there for her through her divorce.
If he understood how I felt, what my intentions were, he might help me. God knows I needed the help.
"Look, I woke up and she was leaving, okay? Or I thought she was leaving. I thought she was sneaking out. I thought she regretted it and was ditching me and I was pissed. And now she knows that I know I misunderstood, and I apologized."
"The last thing Annabelle needs is another guy yelling at her every time he doesn't get his way," Aiden said, his voice even and his brown eyes filmed with ice.
"But Chase isn't like that," Vivi burst out.
Aiden raised an eyebrow at her and she said, "He isn't. I can't remember the last time he lost his temper. He has a temper—" Vivi looked at me in apology. "You do. You know you do."
Meeting Aiden's eyes, she went on, "But ever since he was a teenager he's been so good about controlling it. Even when the whole thing went down with the company, I'm the one who went a little crazy—"
"I'm aware of that," Aiden said, dryly.
He would be, considering they'd met because she'd infiltrated Winters, Inc. to try to find a way to bring Aiden down and get the company back. She'd failed in that goal, but she'd fallen in love in the process, so her scheme had been worth it in the end.
Aiden looked at me, considering. "Interesting," he said.
"You didn't lose your temper when you thought I stole your company, even when you realized I couldn't give it back.
Even when you found out I was dating your sister.
You weren't happy, and you yelled a few times, but that was it. Why did you lose it over Annabelle?"
I rubbed my palms on my thighs, suddenly feeling like a teenager being grilled by his date's father.
Anything other than honesty would be a mistake and I knew it. I wanted to tell Aiden that how I felt about Annabelle was none of his goddamn business.
"I'm in love with her. I haven't even told her that.
Mostly because she wouldn't believe me. But I'm in love with her.
I woke up hoping things between us had changed and I thought I caught her sneaking out.
I overreacted. I know it. I told her that—not the love part but the overreacting part—and I apologized.
I'm there every day, helping her in the café—"
"Yes, I know, considering your department has ground to a halt since you've been gone."
"I don't give a damn," I said. "You muddled along just fine before you found me, you can wait until Annabelle doesn't need me anymore. I don't give a shit about the algorithm or fixing the tech. I give a shit about Annabelle.
"She's working herself to the bone because those two flakes bailed on her. The new girl is okay, but Annabelle is still short-staffed. I'll come back to Winters, Inc. when she's settled. If you don't like it, fire me. I couldn't possibly care less."
Aiden said nothing, just leaned back into the couch and studied me thoughtfully. Finally, he said, "The dickweed she married had a temper. A bad one. And when he decided their marriage wasn't shaping up the way he thought it would, he took it out on her. All the time."
I leaned forward, sick at what he'd said. "Did he—?"
Aiden shook his head. "He never laid a hand on her. Nothing physical, just words."
"Words can hurt worse than a fist," Vivi said quietly.
She knew. We'd both been on the receiving end of our parents' brand of discipline. Mostly telling us what disappointments we were. They'd never physically hurt us, but they were experts at slicing us to pieces with a vicious turn of phrase.
I thought of Annabelle, her bright smile and rich laugh, being berated and demeaned by that slick, overdressed desk jockey.
I was going to give the Sinclairs a call. Get his home address. Just in case.
"You really love her?" Aiden asked.
"I really do," I said. I meant every word to the depths of my soul. No hesitation.
It had happened so quietly.
Not the flash of attraction; I'd felt that the first time I laid eyes on Annabelle, the first time I saw her smile, saw her long legs eat up the floor in the café, the tight curve of her ass and the sway of her narrow hips.