15. Lex
Chapter fifteen
What does one do when they can’t fall asleep because they’re tormented by thoughts of someone they can’t have? And when they do finally fall asleep, they then dream of all the ways they want them?
Asking for a friend.
Okay, I’m asking for me because I have no freaking idea.
I spent the weekend doom-scrolling every article I could find about Heart City’s most eligible bachelor.
He’s eleven years older than me, which was a surprise.
He’s very passionate about his family’s business endeavours.
That was a trait I couldn’t help swoon over, especially when I read about all the ways he collaborates with each of them. And he looks damn fine in a suit.
I saw all the evidence of that as he was photographed with woman after woman. A new one every time he left some high-profile event.
I wasn’t at all surprised that the women he was with were my total opposites in every superficial way.
That didn’t stop the doubt from seeping in.
I shouldn’t compare myself to them, though.
It’s the thief of joy after all. I personally think laundry is the thief of joy, but comparison can ride shotgun.
I have no idea why the hell he entertained me for a night. Well, two nights. He’s a charismatic, billionaire playboy, and I’m a small-town girl with abandonment issues .
I’m at Hallucinogen’s early today. The nightclub looks so different during the day compared to at night when the neon lights take over the space.
The faux willow tree that sits in the centre of the room looks far less enchanting when the trailing lights woven amongst the branches are off.
The glass and mirror fixtures reflect the normal white lights overhead instead of the hot pink from the LED signs and spotlights.
If it weren’t for the greenery that lines the roofline and wall seats, it would look more like a warehouse in here.
I make my way into the manager’s office to fire up the computer next to Gen’s. There’s a coffee cup on her desk and a half-eaten protein bar, so she must be floating around somewhere. Probably annoying her brother.
I take a seat, waiting for the computer to load, when my phone chimes with a text.
CLAIRE:
OH MY GOD!!!!!
ME:
What??
I watch the bubbles dance on my screen as she types back, but after a few too many seconds, I go back to the computer and start opening up programs for our rosters and inventory. Rapid-fire chimes sound on my phone.
CLAIRE:
The thorn in my side
CLAIRE:
The source of my afflictions
CLAIRE:
The bane of my very existence
Good God.
ME:
Yes…
CLAIRE:
Is… my Viking *crying emoji*
CLAIRE:
The arsehole contractor I’ve been emailing for the last eight weeks is the same man I’ve been riding into oblivion to work out the very frustrations he’s been the reason for!
ME:
Seriously? How did you not know this any earlier?
CLAIRE:
We’d only spoken through email. Another guy is my site supervisor, who I always see here.
ME:
What about his name on the emails?
CLAIRE:
His email says Lee Connors. When I was coming on his dick, he made me call him Leif. Apparently, Lee is a nickname.
Well, shit. Looks like we’ve both had some interesting encounters with men lately.
CLAIRE:
Lex, this man has fucked my arse figuratively and literally. You should see the smug look on this dickwad’s face.
I chuckle at her words. This project just got a lot more interesting. At least it’s nearing the end, with only a few weeks left until it’s completed. I’m about to tell her just that when my brother’s name flashes across the screen .
“Hey, Dyl,” I say when I finally answer the phone.
“Hey, Guppy. Can you talk?”
I reach over to push the office door shut and lean back in my chair. “Yep, I’ve got a few minutes. What’s up?”
“I sent your proposal to Isabelle, the marketing manager at the investment company.” I can hear his excitement bubble through the line. “They want to offer us an official contract. We did it, Lex! Legacy Malt is happening.”
Goose bumps cover my arms in relief. A few weeks ago, Dylan came up to the city, taking samples of Legacy Malt to various clubs and bars, hoping to get a supplier outside of our small town of Killara Bay.
One of those places put him in touch with an investor who wanted to see our business plans.
I begged Dylan to give me their name so I could make sure they were legit, but he promised they were the real deal.
At least he hasn’t signed any contracts, not that he can without me.
I’ll be making sure I review the contract carefully before I let my brother get a pen near it.
“Dylan, this is amazing! Who’s the investor?”
“They invited us to a signing party in a few weeks. You can find out then.”
I groan and start to protest, but my brother’s next words make me pause. “I feel like this is the peace I’ve needed since Dad died, Lex,” he whispers, and my eyes fill with tears. I tip my head back, willing them not to fall.
“He’d be so proud of you, Dyl.” A rogue tear escapes, and I bat it away quickly.
“And you, Guppy. Top of your class, a degree under your belt. Man, he’d be in awe of you. Of the beautiful and kind woman you grew up to be.” The tears free-fall now.
“Jeez, you’ve turned me into a puddle,” I laugh. “What’s with all the nice words?”
“Just feeling happy, sis. We’ll sign in two weeks. I’ll send you the details so you can make sure you’re off work. ”
“Okay.” I smile as there’s a knock on the door, followed by James Huxley. I quickly wipe at my cheeks, sniffling in some composure.
“Hey, Dylan, I gotta go.”
“No worries. Love you. Talk soon.”
“Love you, too.” I hang up, slip my phone in my handbag.
“Hi, Mr Huxley. How are you?” He steps fully into the office. His onyx hair is brushed back from his face, dark scruff covers his harsh jawline, and there’s a scar slashing through his right eyebrow. His appearance is just as mysterious as the reputation he sets for himself.
“I’m well, thank you, Alexis. I hope I didn’t interrupt you.”
“Not at all. How can I help?” He perches on the edge of my desk, one ankle crossed over the other.
“I have a new project taking over in the old theatre space. I asked Gen to look into the liquor licence for the casino to see if the new business comes under our licence or needs its own since it’s on our property but outside the casino building. She pointed me in your direction.”
“Absolutely. I’d be happy to help with that.” I turn to the computer and pull up a search browser. “Gen doesn’t really have patience for research.” I chuckle.
“That sounds about right.” He smiles and crosses his hands over his body, drawing my attention to the black spade tattoo nestled between his thumb and pointer finger. “How have you been finding your new manager role?”
“There’s a lot to learn, but I’m enjoying being on this side of things,” I say.
“That’s good. Well, I’ll let you get back to work. If you can’t reach my phone, just email through what you find about the liquor licence.” He straightens his black jacket as he stands and heads back toward the door.
“I’ll get right on it,” I say.
He offers one last tight smile with a nod of thanks.
I turn to the computer, pulling up the number for the government department that handles liquor licences for the state, as well as details for our local zoning council.
I’m picking up the handset for the desk phone and punching in numbers when incessant buzzing erupts from my purse, and my eyes widen as I realise I left Claire in a crisis.
I pull a muscle in my neck, overreaching for the phone in my purse while the cord of the desk phone restricts me to the handle.
CLAIRE:
I AM MORTIFIED. You know me, Lex. I don’t get mortified. I am a fortress of composure.
CLAIRE:
A queen of unflappable cool.
CLAIRE:
I’m dangerously close to losing my cool.
CLAIRE:
Lex?
CLAIRE:
Alexis Cordelia Morgan?
CLAIRE:
Are you ghosting me right now? WTF!?!?
CLAIRE:
Here lies Claire Jade Pryor. Survived by her impressive collection of battery-operated boyfriends. She leaves behind no friends or family since her bestie discarded her like a used condom.
CLAIRE:
wilting-rose-emoj i
I quickly hit the call button on her contact while the other phone is calling out number prompts, but Claire’s rings out.
ME:
I am so sorry, babe! My brother called, and then the big boss came in. Call me!
The message moves to read, but no dots dance on the screen. I bite the corner of my lip, hanging up the desk phone so I can try and reach Claire.
ME:
Dylan got a backer for the distillery. We sign contracts in two weeks 3
CLAIRE:
WHAT!!! OMG!!! Tequila tonight! We both need it!
ME:
Love you
CLAIRE:
Love you, boo kissing-face-emoji
This is what I needed. A reminder of what I’m here for, what I’m working towards.
I may be living in the city, but I’m a small-town girl at heart.
The quiet life has always called to me, and soon, it will be time to return home.
There’s no sense in ruminating over devastatingly handsome billionaires or one-night stands.
It’s time to remember who I am and what I want.
Even if that once small and orderly list suddenly feels like a shamble of threads pulling me in every direction.
I have Claire. I have Dylan. I have the tavern and the distillery to work on. I have everything I need. I think.