Chapter Three
GABE
"I can't believe we're breaking yet another record," my assistant, Betty, said.
I looked at the article on my phone, grinning. "That's what we do."
"All right. I'll let you get back to work."
I shook my head. "No, I'm taking off early today."
I felt victorious. We’d made it into the Michelin Guide.
That was a fantastic milestone, even though we were already listed on various other top ten websites. But I knew a ton of tourists relied on printed city guides, so the more accolades we could acquire, the better.
"Good for you. Or wait, are you going to the bar tonight?"
"No, it's been a busy week, and I want the night off. Besides, I have stuff to do tonight.” I was meeting my half brothers, and before that, I had to stop by Celia's place to help with the bookcase.
I bid everyone goodbye before leaving. I trusted people to do their job without me hovering over them. And they didn’t think I was slacking just because I didn’t burn the midnight oil every night. I had a great team.
Maybe it wasn't fair, but I had to admit, I was more proud of the success of the bar than the distillery.
Probably because it was my brainchild—I'd come up with the idea and set it up. Ultimately, I’d envisioned this as a franchise with a bar in each major city, and maybe in Europe too.
The world was at my fingertips, and the possibilities were endless.
And to think there was a time when our grandfather wasn't sure his legacy would survive.
I didn't remember many things from when Dad left, but I did remember him telling Grandfather that the empire would go to waste without him running it. We'd proved him wrong. I didn't wish my father any ill will, but I never understood how he could turn out to be such a two-faced bastard.
Grandfather and Grandmother were two of the kindest people I knew, and for Dad to do what he did just made no sense whatsoever. But it didn't matter anymore now.
I was determined to build on to my legacy, and I'd been looking to expand the distillery for a while now. I couldn't keep up with demand within the space we had, and there wasn’t enough room on the property to grow. I needed space for adding another production line, and we’d have to move the operation before that could happen.
I also wanted to venture into hotels and planned to open the first one next to the distillery.
My half brother Leo could help me find the right property. He ran the top real estate agency in the country and was absolutely the best. I called him on my way to the car; even though I was meeting him later, we wouldn’t have time to talk shop then.
"Hey, Gabe. Change your mind about joining us for tennis?" he asked.
"No. I told you I want to give it another try. I was actually calling because I'd like your help with a project."
"I'm listening."
"I want to look for a huge property in Stockbridge. I want to build a distillery there and also a hotel."
"Cool. But Stockbridge? That's oddly specific."
I had my reasons, but I didn't feel like sharing them with him. Yet.
“It’s mostly because that’s where I want the hotel to be,” I explained.
"Sure, I'm on it. That's going to take a while, though."
"I assumed so."
Leo was excellent at what he did, but this was a challenge. Stockbridge was tiny. There wouldn't be many properties that fit my requirements and didn't have any zoning restrictions.
"I'm on it."
“Thanks.”
We'd often vacationed with Mom in Stockbridge in the summer, and some of my happiest memories were from that village, especially the botanical garden.
She even confessed during our last summer there that maybe after we were grown and out of the house, she’d open a hotel there, but she never got the chance to do it. I liked the idea of fulfilling that wish of hers.
After ending the call, I got into my Mercedes SUV and headed straight to Celia’s place.
I'd never been in this neighborhood before and didn’t realize it was so far away from the bar. How the hell did she get home after work? I didn't know if she had a car or not, and I didn't like the idea of her taking public transportation that late in the night.
When I arrived at the address, I found a parking spot opposite her building. I buzzed Celia on the intercom, and she let me in.
She lived on the second floor. When I reached her door, I rang the bell and then glanced around, noting that there were four other units on the floor.
Suddenly the door opened, and although I'd expected to see Celia, I came face-to-face with Diane.
Her eyes widened in surprise. She was wearing short pants and a yellow pinstriped top and looked adorable.
“Gabe!" she exclaimed.
Fuck! I couldn’t stop imagining those long legs wrapped around my torso.
I cleared my throat and asked, "Celia didn't tell you I was coming?"
"She did but didn’t specify to me when.”
"Gabe, hi, come in,” Celia said, walking up behind Diane. “Thank you so much for coming. Right this way."
The place looked welcoming, but it was tiny.
"Celia, how do you get home after work?" I asked.
"Oh, there's a T-station about five minutes away. It's perfect.”
I groaned. "Why didn't you tell me? From now on you can take an Uber and expense it to me."
Diane’s mouth fell open.
"You are the most generous boss I've ever met,” Diane said.
Celia shrugged. "That’s very kind, Gabe. But not necessary. Nothing’s ever happened. And anyway, I have Mace with me.”
Diane whipped around to look at her. “You're carrying Mace? You didn't tell me that."
Celia shrugged. "Why do you think I was so blasé last night when that drunk guy was loitering around us?"
Diane shook her head. "Oh, Celia."
"You expense it to the company. And yes, before you ask, this is what I offer all my employees when they work late.”
“Yeah, for a manager,” Celia countered.
"All employees. I offered that to the guys, too, but they all drive to work.” I found it easier to ignore my dirty imagination if I focused on Celia instead of Diane. I'd never, not once, had the impulse to flirt with Celia, but it was taking all my self-restraint to behave around Diane.
"All right, what's with the bookcase?" I asked. “Where is it?”
"It's in the small bedroom," Diane said.
"Show me."
We walked from the living room down the corridor. One door was open to something that looked like a master bedroom, and another door opened to what I thought was a small closet at first glance.
Wait, is this the other bedroom? There was a single bed inside it and a huge bookcase.
"Someone's sleeping in here?" I asked.
"Hey, don't sound so shocked or judgy," Diane said. "This is my bedroom for now."
No fucking way! No one could live here. There wasn’t enough space to breathe. I didn't say it out loud, though. I didn’t want to sound like a snobbish ass.
But why the hell was she living with her sister anyway? And if they had to share an apartment, why were they living in this matchbox?
"All right, let's do it. You two grab that end, and I'll take this one.”
I made a concerted effort to keep my eyes on the shelf, especially when Diane leaned forward and grabbed the lower part, giving me a direct view of her cleavage.
She wasn't wearing a bra, and I drew in a deep breath at the sight.
I had a visceral reaction to this woman unlike anything I'd ever experienced.
I was a flirt, that was true, but I'd never had trouble keeping myself in check.
Something about her just caught me completely off guard.
"One, two, three, now," I said.
We lifted at the same time. It wasn't that heavy, but I couldn't see the two of them being able to do it on their own.
We carefully got it through the door, then down the narrow hallway, and all the way to the living room. Celia gestured to put it near the TV.
Once we set it down, Diane put her hands on her hips, stretching backward. "All right, that’s going to give me a backache."
"I'll give you a massage," Celia said, and my brain went straight to the gutter again.
Diane straightened up. "So listen, Gabe," she started, pressing her palms together, "I've prepped a delicious afternoon snack. Do you want to join us?"
"Please say yes," Celia added.
"Sure, why not? Need my help setting the table?" I offered.
"Not at all."
Diane waved her hand. "Well, my sister feels the need to be polite because she works for you. But you're not the boss of me, so I'd love it if you could help me bring some plates from the kitchen."
"Diane!" Celia said with a grin.
I liked Diane's sass. And when she walked in front of me, I had to keep my eyes up so as not to check her out. As soon as we stepped in the kitchen, she handed me three plates and cutlery while she took two bowls of food.
"You made fried chicken wings," I said appreciatively.
"They’re my sister's favorite, and I love cooking." The other bowl contained a delicious-looking salad. "She's not much of a cook, but now that I'm here, I can take care of her for a bit."
Ah, so Diane only moved here recently.
We sat down at the table, and Celia smiled. "You're spoiling me, sister."
Diane nodded. "Yep, that's exactly what I intend to do before I get out of your hair."
I looked at Diane. "You plan to move?"
"Yes. I certainly didn't plan to move in here in the first place, but life is full of surprises."
"What happened?" I asked while we passed the food around. I put three wings on my plate along with salad.
Diane sighed. "My company downsized, so they've reduced my hours to only part-time. I couldn't really afford my rent, and my landlord was quick to ask me to leave. He didn’t even give me proper notice. I had to move in a week."
"That’s illegal," I said.
She shrugged. "It is what it is. Anyway, I'm searching for a shared apartment or something, but in the meantime, I'm crashing here with my sister."
"You know I love having you here," Celia countered.
A dangerous idea formed in my mind, and I put down my fork. My brothers often teased me for being impulsive, and they were right. Sometimes it got me into trouble, but I didn't care one bit. I followed my instincts.