Chapter 8
Serenity
I STARED OUT THE WINDOW as Bradley and I drove to the property of our newest client. The sun hid behind gray clouds, which held the promise of snow, and I couldn’t help but acknowledge I felt the same way—heavy, dark, cold. Mondays were never easy.
Mondays were a reminder that I still wasn’t a full-time author.
Mondays meant a new, long week of a job I hated.
Mondays meant another small piece of myself died from the inability to do what I loved.
I wondered what would happen when that last piece finally broke off.
But this Monday was even harder than normal. Bradley and I hadn’t spoken since Saturday night when he’d been drunk. Tension simmered between us like thick smoke. He was too proud to apologize—if he even remembered everything he’d said—and I was too much of a coward to poke the beast.
So in bitter silence we sat.
I’m sure this afternoon’s client is going to love being around us.
We careened down a long stretch of road back in the trees.
I only saw one house sharing the wooded privacy of this area with the client’s homesite.
The lone current house was black stone and glass, a true gothic masterpiece.
This area only had two parcels of land—the gothic home owner’s and our client’s piece.
The area was their own little slice of life away from the chaos of town.
We pulled up to our client’s land, which had already been cleared, graded, and prepped for Bradley and his team of builders.
There wasn’t a sign of the client yet, so Bradley turned his truck off and blew out a hard breath.
I kept my eyes trained on the tall trees around the edges of the property.
He wanted me to break the silence first, to open the door for us to work this out without an apology, just as I had always done.
But I was too tired to do that today. I was too worn down to give into what he wanted when he’d been the one to lash out unnecessarily at me.
“Look,” Bradley hedged eventually. He rubbed at his rust-colored brows, and for a moment, I thought an apology was coming.
Until he continued, “This client is paying a lot of money. Make sure your attitude doesn’t ruin this deal.
I’ll be fucking pissed, and your dad certainly will be, too. So can you smile or something?”
“Are you going to apologize?” I shot back.
Before he answered, a car pulled up beside us. Bradley waved at the customer before meeting my gaze. “We’ll talk about this later.”
That was five words. He had time to say those five words but not a mere two.
I shook my head, hoping the motion would also clear the disappointment and hurt from my system—at least long enough to finish up this meeting.
Plastering on my mega-watt smile, I got out of the truck and came around just as a pretty girl around our age got out of her car.
I tried to keep the shock off my face. Was this the client?
Someone so young was the owner of this land and future million-dollar home?
She was short, fit, had lovely curves, and her bright face seemed sweet enough to give you a cavity.
Her blonde-and-pink hair was pulled back in a high ponytail, and a pink coat and dark pants hugged her lithe form.
“Hi,” Bradley greeted with a wide smile as he held out his hand. “Are you Addie Parkland?”
“I am,” she answered as she shook his hand. She turned to me and offered me the same handshake with a friendly grin. “I take it you two are the contractor and designer from Dixon’s Construction and Real Estate? Bradley and Serenity, right?”
“Yes, yes,” Bradley beamed. “Excellent memory.”
She clapped her pink polished nails happily. “Great! I’m so excited to finally be starting this process.”
“As are we,” I replied and looked around the property we stood on. “This land is very lovely. It’s going to make a fabulous setting for your home.”
“We like to walk the properties with our clients and pick your brain about what you want,” Bradley explained. “Should we do that then move somewhere indoors to start the final designing and decision-making?”
“That sounds great,” Addie cheered.
The three of us began our trek around the cleared part of Addie’s land. Hearing people go over their hopes and dreams in this stage of the process was one of the few things I enjoyed about working here. I was especially enraptured by Addie, though.
Not only was she a genuine bubbly spirit, but her ability to afford something like this fascinated me.
Since I didn’t work in the financing part of the company, the only thing I knew about her monetary situation was that she had money.
But from what? Had she inherited a hefty chunk of change?
Had she won the lottery? Did she just make a shit-ton in whatever she did for work?
She was in the middle of explaining the direction she wanted her bedroom to face when a harsh December breeze swept over us. It made all three of us wrap our arms around ourselves and shiver. My teeth chattered, Addie’s words cut off in a harsh gasp, and Bradley’s head tucked down into his jacket.
“Shit, it’s cold,” Addie hissed. “Do you guys want to continue talking somewhere else?”
“Yes, please.” I answered with a small laugh.
She grinned. “My friends actually live right down the road at the other house on this street. We can go there since I was already hanging out anyway. They said it was fine for us to talk at their house.”
With the plan decided, we all booked it back through the icy cold to our cars. I was frozen by the time I got in the truck, so much so that I couldn’t even bother trying to start the conversation with Bradley again.
We pulled up behind Addie’s car in front of the beautiful gothic home. I stared up at it, even more captivated by the grandness of it now that it was close. It was all sharp lines, sleek black framing, and crystal-clear glass. I wondered what kind of person lived here.
Bradley and I followed Addie inside. I tried not to ooh and aah over every little detail in the open entryway, living room, and kitchen. To my right was an archway that led into what looked like some sort of ballroom. I wanted to memorize every little detail of the beautiful interior.
“Iyla!” Addie chirped.
A brunette girl poked her head around the wall from the kitchen. She smiled when she saw us. “Hey. I was just making a pot of coffee for everyone.”
“You’re the best,” Addie said, practically skipping toward the kitchen island.
I glanced up at Bradley to see what he made of the magnificent home we’d been invited into. My stomach plummeted when I realized he wasn’t looking around the house. His blue eyes were locked on Addie’s—
Nope, I screamed at myself, forcing my eyes to my feet. My fingers started up their anxious tapping against the sides of my thighs as I breathed through the nausea.
I wasn’t going to acknowledge that. I’d been mistaken. Bradley wouldn’t openly check out a girl until his cheeks tinted pink and that salacious haze clouded his eyes. He wouldn’t do what my dad had done to tear up my family. He wouldn’t hurt me like that.
Nope, nope, nope, I continued chanting to the same pace of my light finger tapping.
“You guys can come over here,” Addie called to us, taking off her puffy pink coat to drape it on the back of her chair. Underneath, she wore a black long-sleeved shirt, which accentuated her small yet well-endowed frame. Would my boyfriend look at me if I looked like that?
I took measured breaths as Bradley and I crossed the room, and by the time I made it to the island, my perfect mask of ease was back in place.
“Would you two like some coffee?” Iyla offered. “Addie said you’d be coming, so I made enough for everyone.”
“That would be nice,” I answered with a matching smile. “Thank you.”
Bradley and I stood with Addie at the island, and I’d just opened the folder to get started when male voices drifted closer from the stairwell that separated the living room and kitchen.
Voices I instantly recognized.
My mouth dried, and my head snapped up as Dante, Zagan, and Coldin—the lead singer and drummer of Sinners Do It Better—appeared in the kitchen.
“Yeah. Poor Perseus is—”
Dante’s words cut off as his dark eyes met mine across the room. I didn’t think anything could truly rattle or surprise the confident man, but when he spotted me, he looked genuinely shocked.
“Holy shit,” I gasped under my breath, my gaze bouncing between the three men.
Not only had I been blessed by getting to spend time with Dante Braxton, but now I was breathing in the same air as Zagan Kraev and Coldin Morgrave. If the other two band members appeared, I was actually going to pass the fuck out. Or orgasm. Or puke. Or all three.
“Oh yeah,” Addie smirked. “I forgot to mention this is Zagan Kraev’s house.”
“Serenity,” Dante greeted, recovering from his surprise with a warm grin. “Well, this is interesting. I wasn’t expecting to see you here.”
Addie straightened. “Wait! You know my contractor and designer?”
Dante and Zagan stepped up to the kitchen island opposite me while Coldin leaned against the wall behind them. Dante’s dark blue shirt hugged his torso as he crossed his arms and cocked his head in the way an amused predator might do while studying their clueless prey.
“Serenity and I met last week.” His eyes cut to Bradley, who had gone ramrod straight beside me. “I met her boyfriend briefly at Harper’s house party we all went to.”
Bradley cleared his throat. His eye twitched as he maintained a friendly smile. “Yes. Good to see you again. If you’ll excuse us, though, we’re here for work.” Bradley turned to Addie and softened his voice. “Are you ready to get started?”
Both Iyla and Addie seemed oblivious to the sudden tension between Bradley and Dante as we moved to follow Iyla to the living room.
As I passed the three members of Sinners Do It Better, I spotted them sharing knowing, almost amused glances—save for Coldin.
He stared at the floor, a bland expression fixed on his face.