Flawless: (Fearsome Series Book 4)

by S. A. Wolfe

  “She doesn’t go anywhere or do anything; what kind of emergency could she have? She can’t find the TV remote?”

  “Be nice. You’ve been getting awfully crabby about your mom. Unlock this,” he demands, holding the face of the phone in front of me.

  I tap in my code, and then he takes the phone back to scroll through the recent messages.

  “Here.” He stabs at the phone with his finger to play a message, and Adam’s strong voice fills the room.

  “Talia, I was wondering if I could take you out to dinner this Friday when I’m back in town. I thought you could take a break from cooking for me. And I really would like to sit down and have a social dinner with you. It doesn’t have to be a date if this message is making you nervous. Call me.”

  Peyton angrily ends the message, cutting off Adam’s chuckle. He glares at the offending phone in his hand. “No, she’s not going out to dinner with you. You fucking … fuckwad,” he growls. “She’s busy!”

  “Give me the phone.”

  “Did you know about this? Did you know he wanted to ask you out?”

  “He said it doesn’t have to be a date. And no, I didn’t know, but maybe he wants to be friends the way you and I are friends.”

  Peyton holds my phone away from me. “The way you and I are friends? Sex? Are you trying to be funny?”

  “No, not sex. He’s a friend I talk to, not a sleeping-with type of friend. Oh my God, I can’t even keep these definitions straight. It’s a confusing mess.”

  “Has he kissed you?”

  “Are you asking me, or is this an interrogation? No, of course he hasn’t kissed me. I haven’t done anything with Adam. He’s just being nice. Now give me my phone.”

  “Being nice,” he mumbles. “Let’s see who else called.” He stabs my phone with a finger, and then the next message plays.

  I groan when Marko’s voice comes to life.

  “Nat, I miss you. I don’t know what else to say, but I’m sorry. I really want to see you. Will you please call me back? It’s Marko, in case you forgot.”

  He sounds sad. Marko is not someone who readily admits he’s wrong, and hearing his voice reminds me of a time when I thought I was happy, when I thought I could love only him.

  “Jesus fucking Christ,” Peyton says. “No, she can’t call you, asshole!”

  His possessiveness is touching and pretty sexy in an angry alpha way, but it’s also nuts. He’s supposed to save this kind of territorial rage for some other woman who will own his commitment, someday in the faraway future, if it ever happens.

  “Jesus, Talia, what’s going on here?”

  “I don’t know. They just happened to call me at the same time. I had no idea either one would want to ask me out. I think Marko probably wants to make the air clearer and apologize in person.”

  “And do you feel you need to clear the air with him? Do you think you two left things unresolved? And what if he thinks this is an opportunity for him to get back together with you?”

  Peyton stands before me, large and towering, and half-naked. He’s gorgeous and sexy and so very irate. There’s a distinct pleasure in watching a man like Peyton exhibit jealousy. I would enjoy this moment more if this were the beginning of us and not the end.

  “I have no interest in getting back together with Marko. Maybe I’ll forgive him, but I’ll never forget, and I can’t be with a man like him.”

  “What about Knight?”

  “Adam is different than Marko, but none of this should matter to you. You’re acting jealous, and you shouldn’t. Everything has gone your way. Your restaurant is a success, you found out you have an amazing son, and we’ve had some fun together. But we need to end this thing we have going on.”

  “What?” he asks sharply.

  “We have to stop sleeping together. We have to stop hanging out together, because it leads to sex. That’s all it’s been, and I’ve had my fun, and you helped me get back in the game—see, I remembered that line—and now I’m done. You have two major things in your life. Your son and your restaurant. Finn doesn’t need to see you running around with me, and I don’t want to be the other woman.”

  “The other woman? What the hell are you talking about? You’re the only woman.”

  “For now, but we hooked up for sex. That’s how this started, and we said from the beginning we both have different agendas. Your big picture is about your career, and you’ll have to move someplace else to be near Finn. And that’s the right thing to do. My big picture is smaller. It’s all in Hera, and I want to settle down here with someone who wants the same thing. I want a permanent relationship with a man who feels I’m enough and Hera is enough.”

  The light and happy sparkle I saw in his eyes when I arrived is gone. His expression darkens as he regards me with suspicion.

  I justify my deceitfulness and unkind words by reminding myself this is in Finn’s best interest. I can’t tell Peyton that Harmony basically threatened me—well, him. It would cause terrible friction between them, and it would impact Finn. I have to put aside my growing affection for Peyton and obey Harmony’s demands for the boy’s sake.

  Peyton hands me my phone. There’s a painful stillness between us.

  “Some people would say we’re in a relationship, Natalia.” I don’t like hearing him say my full name with such sternness. “Most would say this wasn’t a hookup, it’s not just sex. You sleep over, but we also spend our days together. You have a nightstand in my home full of personal things. You have a toothbrush and your favorite blue towel in my bathroom. I talk to you more than anyone else, and I think it’s the same for you.”

  “This worked for us because we had an understanding. You always planned to leave Hera to join some corporation,” I say, flustered. “You want the excitement, the popularity, the money, and the challenge in the big cities. And I don’t want those things. Our hookup or affair was perfect to fill the time.” I am convincing myself with my almost perfect logic.

  “We were filling the time,” Peyton repeats softly.

  “We could do what we’re doing because our situation was temporary. But Finn changed that. For the better! You have to stay near him, whether it’s back in New York City or you move out to his suburb … I don’t know where you’ll live … but I can’t be a part of this. I don’t want my presence in your life to confuse Finn.”

  “So this is all about Finn?”

  “You’re a parent. Everything you do affects him. I don’t want to be in the middle of you and him, and Harmony.”

  I’m not good at expressing what I’m thinking. I can’t tell him how my attraction to him has grown into real affection and I’m beginning to care deeply for him, and how the thought of being in a serious relationship with Peyton and Finn is actually desirable. I can’t tell him the truth because Harmony holds all the power.

  My statements come across as mean and selfish and maybe it’s best to end it this way. He can feel relieved I’m out of his life rather than let down.

  “In other words, I have too much baggage,” he says.

  “We both have baggage. I can barely handle my own,” I say, hating the taste of those hurtful words in my mouth. My stomach is in knots. Right now, I hate myself.

  “Finn isn’t baggage; he’s my son,” he says carefully with a hint of anger.

  This is good. You want him to be angry with you, to dislike you enough to no longer care. A broken friendship will make it easier to walk away, and Harmony will be satisfied.

  “He is your son, and you’re both lucky to have each other,” I say. Inside, a part of me is dying for sounding so cruel, for being disingenuous. “I think I should find a new kitchen to use until I can move back to my old place. It would be better for both of us if I’m not at Swill.”

  “No. We have a contract. I stand by my agreements. You can use the kitchen at Swill until the renovation on your other kitchen is finished.”

  “You don’t have to do that.”

  “You should go, Talia,” he sa
ys, utterly composed, without a flicker of emotion.

  I take my purse and walk out of his home.

  As I drive away, the front lights he always leaves on for me shut off, blanketing his house and my car in the cover of night.

  I’ve left a few items at his home that will either be boxed and delivered to me later or thrown away. They were only important when I used them in Peyton’s home. After this, they are sad trinkets, symbolic of an ending.

  Peyton

  CANCELING HER LEASE AGREEMENT with her landlord in Woodstock is easy. Several times on my way over there, I ask myself why I’m compelled to keep Talia in my life when she has no interest in seeing me anymore. I tell myself I’m saving her thousands of dollars in rent, money she can put toward her dream. I’m hoping it will make me a hero. I’ll do anything to repair this loss.

  For the past three weeks, there’s been a deep freeze of silence between us. When she’s in the kitchen at Swill, I make a point to work in the back office or in Zander’s office hidden in the brewery. I reappear when Talia leaves for her deliveries—the only time I can work in the dining room or the kitchen without feeling sick.

  The kitchen renovation is almost complete and having her gone from Swill could make my life easier, assuming I get over her. So, why cancel her business lease? Because I don’t believe her.

  When we hooked up, as she so eloquently put it, I had no intention of getting serious with her. Or so I thought. However, Talia moved my whole being in another direction, as did Finn. That kid changed everything. Whatever I thought I knew about love and ambition, Finn redirected every circuit in my brain and made me care about two main things, two people: Finn and Talia. Somehow, they are supposed to go hand in hand.

  I’m not one for destiny and fate—I think life is a series of random events, and it’s our job to navigate and adapt—but sometimes we get gifts along the way, and if we don’t recognize them, we lose them. Most likely, I’ve unintentionally squandered opportunities and people, as well. Not this time. I’m going to be sensible and give Talia her space and the chance for her to see that Adam Knight isn’t the guy for her.

  I walked through the renovation of Talia’s rented kitchen with Mr. Ricci. He showed me the progress and how he was updating equipment. I assured him that it would be easy to find another chef to pick up Talia’s lease on such a well-designed commercial kitchen. Then, as I brushed drywall dust off my jeans, I made calls to a couple of Swill’s vendors. One offered the name of a local pastry chef who needs a kitchen to expand his business. He was there within ten minutes and gratefully signed a long-term lease for Talia’s kitchen. They both thanked me. I felt like I had done a good deed.

  Talia might think it’s revenge, except I’m not that kind of guy. She broke up with me, and while I’m ticked off, I’m not vengeful. I have a plan to win her over and getting her out of that forty thousand dollar debt she signed on for years is a start. If I’m right, if I really believe in my intuition, she’ll eventually realize I’m what she’s looking for. How she fits in with my LA plans, though, I haven’t gotten that far.

  Back at Swill, clouds of construction dust keep billowing from my jeans, so I head to my office for some clean clothes. As I change, I congratulate myself on how I’m making an adult decision and putting Talia’s needs first. I have a head for this business, and I can do more than relieve her biggest debt. I can help with financing for her dream business—the Purple Peach or whatever she wanted to call it. I’m on board, and I’m going to be her biggest fan.

  I’m thinking of Talia as the office door swings open and her eyes go wide as I finish zipping up my jeans.

  “Sorry,” she says. “I thought you were out. I came in to get a pen. I’m doing inventory … Needed a …”

  I reach for a clean T-shirt I have stashed in the desk drawer, but I take my time. I’ll play it up—anything to see her look at me the way she used to.

  “A pen,” I complete her sentence, plucking one off my desk and handing it to her.

  She makes that exasperated fish face with pursed lips and puffed cheeks—that I love—and narrows her eyes. “Nice beef cock.”

  “Sometimes, I think you’re verbally molesting me.” I slip on the T-shirt. “You don’t have to sneak up on me. Just ask if you want to see some beefcake.”

  “Huh.” She thinks about that for a minute, and I want to laugh for the first time since she broke things off between us. “Cake doesn’t make any sense. It should be cock.”

  “You might want to think about that one for a while. You’re missing the point of the analogy—a naked body being as desirable as cake.”

  She looks up to the ceiling as if she’s actually contemplating the meaning.

  “Hey, I’ll be your beef cock if that’s what you want.” I walk over to her and rest my hand on the edge of the door high above her head, inching it closer to her.

  “Peyton.” She finally smiles. I missed that smile. Then she steps back toward the hallway to put a safe distance between us. “The dirty-minded fiend is back.”

  “I never left.”

  “Are you speaking to me now?”

  “I never stopped speaking to you. You’re the one who made the new rules. I’d be lying if I said it didn’t bother me.” It was like you took my heart in your fist and squeezed it as fucking hard as you could to see how resilient I am.

  “How is Finn? He hasn’t been in here in a while.” She is genuinely curious about him, and I know she cares.

  “He’s good. Thanks for asking. He’s been helping me set up a new home theater and sound system at the house, and we’ve been hitting the bike trails every weekend. And we’re constructing something in the garage for his school science fair. I don’t know jack about science, but I’m giving it my best shot. Harmony and I have worked out a deal where he gets to spend one or two weeknights with me. I get to be more involved with his school stuff and it gives her some personal time. I’m trying not to be the father who drags his kid to work with him and pretends it’s fun for the kid.”

  “I noticed you’re working fewer nights, and Bash is doing a good job covering. But this place is different when you’re not around.”

  “Nice to hear. Thanks. And what about your work? Are any guys giving you problems?”

  She smiles. “You mean Adam and Marko?”

  “Are there more assholes in the vicinity other than those two?”

  “I told Marko to stop calling. But Adam is still my client. I got out of that Friday night date with him because I’m not ready to date him or anyone. I used the I can’t date clients rule.”

  “But you’re still interested in him,” I say, trying to sound reasonable. Stay calm, be agreeable.

  “Let’s not talk about Adam. Let’s agree not to discuss who we’re dating or sleeping with.”

  I flinch, thinking of her rolling around naked in bed with Adam or some faceless guy. “Are you sleeping with someone? Seriously, you didn’t date me either, but you had no problem sleeping with me.”

  “God, no.” She smacks my arm. “I just said I’m not ready to date anyone. That doesn’t mean I’m jumping into bed with any guy for sex.”

  I give her a pointed look.

  “You were the exception.”

  “You forgot to say I was also exceptional.”

  “We can’t do this flirty stuff. We’re not doing this.”

  “I’m changing the subject. Mr. Ricci called and left word that the renovation hit a snag and the timeline on your kitchen will be delayed by another three months or so.” Or as long as it takes me to convince you to come back to me.

  “Oh no. Why didn’t he call my cell phone and let me know?”

  I shrug innocently. “Maybe he tried and couldn’t reach you, so he called here. Anyway, I told him I’d relay the info to you.”

  “I was counting on moving back next month, at the latest. I thought the work was going quickly.”

  “They have a delay on parts and some problems with permit inspections,” I add
, thinking of some more bullshit I can toss in. “You can stay here as long as you need.”

  “Thank you. I don’t know what I would have done if you weren’t here.”

  I hope you remember this, sunflower, because I plan on breaking your new rules.

  Talia

  INITIATED BY LOIS AND followed up by Peyton, a series of texts is sent to everyone, informing them of when to be at my house. The intervention will happen right after eleven in the morning, when my mother will most likely be working around the house with her cleaning caddy in hand. My job is to text her and say I’m coming home for lunch.

  I’m amazed the first text goes off to her without me blowing our cover. It also makes me laugh with a bit of hysteria at the fact my housebound mother has a cell phone. Aleska bought it for her last week, thinking it would help edge her out the front door and start walking around a bit with the comfort and safety of a cell phone at hand. So far, she only uses it when she doesn’t want to leave the treadmill to suse the landline.

  I’m unconvincing as a spy, and right away, I’m afraid my nervousness is about to sabotage our plan. I have to make sure my mother is either in the family room or the living room when everyone else arrives. We have to keep her away from the bathroom or bedrooms where she could lock herself in if she panics.

  At first, I send too many texts to the group, questioning my ability to “position” my mother, and then I send off several texts questioning the effectiveness of a plan that really should be run by medical professionals and not a disorganized group of neighbors.

  Imogene to group: Shut up and get your ass over there! Give us the signal when the coast is clear!

  Talia to group: Coast?

  Peyton to group: You’ll do fine. Tell your mom you’re on your way. Notify us when she’s relaxed. Make her sit down. Keep her there.

  Lois to group: We’ve been over this!

  Archie to group: Is this my group? Can you hear me?

  Jess to group: Archie, yes, we see you.