17. Caleb
Chapter seventeen
“I hate wearing a suit,” Gage says, pulling at his tie. “Why do I have to go to these stupid meetings?”
While we grandkids aren’t actively involved in every aspect of H&H Mining, we each have shares in the company, which means we attend the annual general meeting.
“It’s for the family. Quit your complaining,” I say, standing from my desk and tucking my reading glasses into the top pocket of my deep blue vest. I smooth down the red tie that’s tucked behind it and pull at my sleeve cuffs.
With a groan, Gage stands from his chair.
His black shirt is buttoned right up to his tattooed neck.
Black vest, black tie. What a surprise. The shirt sleeves are rolled halfway up his forearms, with the big grim reaper tattoo on display. I nod my head at him.
“You want to cover those up? You know Aunt Henrietta screams every time you’ve got the Grim out.”
He looks down at his arms. “I can’t help that she thinks it’s looking right at her. Why can’t this meeting be in winter, though?” He stomps to the closed door of my office, pulling it open with a huff. “I’m forced to wear a suit when it’s fucking hot as Satan’s balls outside.”
“Oh!” Isabelle is standing on the other side of the now-open door.
Her curls are loose today, hanging long over one shoulder.
Little braids frame her face. The pink stone she wears every day rests against a brown corset top that she’s paired with a long white skirt, making her look like a little earth fairy.
Especially as she stands in front of the storm cloud that is my brother.
My brows pinch as I watch them stare at each other.
“S-sorry. Hi.” Gage is almost breathless as he looks down at Isabelle.
“Hi.” She won’t stop looking my brother up and down. I guess the suit is quite out of place compared to his normal attire. He’s still wearing his combat boots, much to my dismay.
I put my laptop into its case and hook the strap over my shoulder.
“Did you need something, Iz?” I walk over to meet them by the door. “We’re just heading out for the meeting at H&H Mining. I’ll be back in about two hours.”
“I just spoke with James Huxley,” she says, finally looking at me. “We need a new liquor licence for Smoke and Barrel. They operate under a casino licence, and the theatre is outside of that parameter. I’ve passed it onto the business team to get the paperwork started.”
“Perfect. Thanks, Iz.”
“I also invited James to the gathering you wanted to do on-site. He said he would have his team look after the catering. Beth and I will set up a few decorations.”
“It doesn’t have to be anything fancy,” Gage says to her.
“I told him it would be around twenty people. Just light refreshments for an hour or two, and we hoped to see him there.” Isabelle looks down at the pink stone hanging against her chest, running it back and forth along the chain.
“I figured that would be okay since he’s an invested partner.
I did say it was mostly family, though, nothing formal. ”
“Great job, Isabelle,” I say, putting a hand on her shoulder and gently turning her out of the room.
I’m trying to get out of here so we can stop by a bakery over the road from Claire’s beauty salon before the meeting.
I figured it would be a stealth way of spying and seeing if Claire was around.
My hand stays on Izzy’s shoulder as I walk behind her until I hear a growl to my left.
My brother is glaring at my hand. I quickly lift it as if I’ve been burnt, looking at Gage like, what the fuck?
He shakes his head, then keeps stalking toward the elevator, trailing behind Isabelle.
She pushes the call button, and the doors slide open, the three of us entering.
“What floor?” Gage asks.
“Seven, please.” He offers her the smallest smile before pushing seven for her and the basement for us.
When he manages to look at me instead of Isabelle, I’m sure it’s because he senses the confusion radiating from my very pores.
He grunts, then turns away from me, and we ride in silence down to Isabelle’s floor.
“Thank you for organising everything for the gathering next week,” Gage says.
Isabelle is a good foot shorter than I am. Next to my brother, she looks so damn tiny.
“It’s no problem.”
When the elevator doors open, Gage leans forward to hold them for Isabelle. She stops and looks up at him, their eyes locking for way too long before she stumbles out.
“See you later, Iz,” I call, since it feels like she’s completely forgotten I’m even here.
“Oh, um, bye, OG.”
When Gage steps back in line with me, the doors close once more, and we ride in silence to the basement.
“We’ll be speaking of this,” I say.
“Nothing to speak of.”
“My fucking arse.”
“I said there’s nothing.”
“You lie, baby brother.” I know there’s something happening between Gage and Isabelle. Maybe nothing has physically happened, but it’s something .
“Why don’t you come up here and prove it?” The bastard is six-foot-five, and he’s probably got fifteen kilos of muscle on me. But I’m still the oldest.
“Perhaps I’ll just tell Grams about the interesting little display I just witnessed.
” I shrug. The doors open, and I stalk with satisfaction to my Lamborghini.
For two days after I dropped Lex home, it smelled like coconuts.
I won’t admit I took a pointless day trip up the coast and back the next day just so I could sit in it.
Then I sat at family dinner that evening like I wasn’t a pathetic, lovesick fool.
“Fine. I’ll just tell her about your redhead.”
I stand on one side of the car, speaking to Gage over the roof. “You already did that, you bastard.”
“There are more details I could share.” He points a finger over at me. “Just what did you do on my dancefloor?”
Heat explodes on my cheeks as I open the door and slide into the car. I push the start button as Gage slowly lowers himself into the passenger seat. I can feel his stare on the side of my face.
We sit in silence for the start of the ride until Gage notices I make a slight detour. “Where are we going?”
“I just want to get a coffee.” I try to sound as casual as possible. It’s not like he should suspect anything.
“Isn’t there a coffee shop around the corner from where we’re already going?”
I think for a minute. “An associate told me about a bakery around here I should try.” Fuck, I hope it’s half decent or this cover will quickly turn to shit.
We manage to get street parking right outside the pastel blue storefront of Sweet Escape. When I step out of the car, I’m looking straight at Parlour Tricks Beauty. Huge windows and double glass doors take up most of the candy pink facade. I can see a few guys inside milling about. But no Claire.
“Why does this street look like a rainbow threw up on it? ”
When I look at my brother standing on the sidewalk, dressed in all black and a scowl to match, I want to laugh.
“Why are you such a grump? Find something fun to do, would you, or someone.” I pass him in a blur, with a hand on the antique handles. I stop just before I walk into the cool air of the bakery. “But not Isabelle.”
A wall has more emotional depth than my brother sometimes, and Isabelle is far too soft and sensitive.
It feels at least twenty degrees cooler inside the bakery, and it smells like actual heaven. My Siren, excluded.
“Hi there! What can I get you?” A woman with a long, curly braid hanging over her shoulder smiles up at us.
“Hello, could I get a hazelnut macchiato and”—I look through the glass display at all the pastries. They look incredible. There’s everything from macarons and eclairs to tarts and beignets—“a cherry coconut cannoli.” I turn to Gage. “You want anything?”
“Dirty chai latte and an orange sugar doughnut.”
I stare at him. “You’re a very complex man.”
A chuckle sounds from behind the counter. The woman pops her head up from the counter with our sweets. “Was it just those?”
“We’d better bring something for the others,” says Gage, still looking in the display case.
“Can we get a pumpkin spice cannoli?” I ask.
“Make it two and two of the espresso cream doughnuts, as well. Actually, can we just get two of everything?”
“And one maple cinnamon doughnut in a separate bag, please,” I add while side eyeing my brother. “Isabelle loves cinnamon.”
“She does?”
I had a feeling he’d take the bait. I turn my head, letting my brother see that I’m on to him.
I pull out my phone, opening the sibling group chat.
ME:
The score is now me and Beth against Gage in the stance that he’s talking SHIT when it comes to nothing happened with Isabelle.
I see him pull his phone out of his pocket with his usual frown, and I dart forward to grab the pastry box off the bench. When he looks up at me, I thrust the box into his hands, so he can’t use them for anything else.
“Can you hold these? I’ll grab the coffee.” I look back at my phone when it starts buzzing in my palm.
BETH:
!! I knew it!!
MASON:
WHAT?!?! But I didn’t get a chance to meet her and expose her to my charms yet.
BETH:
What charms?
MASON:
Ahhh many a woman find me extremely charming. TYVM
BETH:
Many a woman find you easy.
MASON:
What’s the difference?
Gage has finally managed to balance his phone, the box of pastries and his scowl in perfect synchronicity while dots stop and start over the screen.
“Here are your coffees.” A young girl with dark hair slides the coffees towards me while the first woman places a big box beside them .
“And here’s the rest of your sweets.” She smiles, and I notice the name badge on her shirt.
“Thanks, Liv.”
“Enjoy the rest of your day.” When she turns, the braid over her shoulder exposes an angry scar along her hairline, just peeking through the strands.
I shake off the curiosity and pick up the coffees.
I groan when I take a sip of the most delicious hazelnut macchiato I’ve ever had. “That’s a damn fine coffee.”
Gage is still scowling at his phone when we reach the car.
I look over to Parlour Tricks again, but I can’t see any sign of Claire.
There’s a blond guy with a blue backwards baseball cap who seems vaguely familiar.
He’s walking with a bear of a man with a thick beard and another younger guy talking loudly with wildly gesturing hands, and one leg covered in tattoos.
That’s an odd trio, but still no Claire.
My chest deflates, but at least the coffee here is good.
I can come back and try to spot Claire another day.
I place the coffees in the cup holders as I settle into the car and pull out my phone.
GAGE:
Nothing happened!
BETH:
Umm, we all heard in Royal Harbour when you called her Buttercup…care to explain THAT?
I look over at my brother, waving my phone at him to explain. He picks up his coffee, turning in his seat to look out the windscreen.
“It’s nothing,” he grumbles.
It’s definitely not nothing.