Heartless Havoc : A Hero Club Novel

by J. L. Leslie

  I send Claire a text and let her know I’ll be home later so she doesn’t worry, then settle in for a few hours of stress relief.

  I grab an assortment of ingredients from the shelf and from the fridge, not really having a plan but knowing I don’t want to be back and forth all night.

  I turn some music on my phone and get to work, playing around with some ideas I’ve had in my head. Hopefully, a few of these concoctions will make the cut and I can try them out for Soraya’s event.

  While my food cooks, I sit at the counter and play on my phone, mindlessly searching the web. Somehow, my search goes to antique records and I scroll through the results, seeing what’s available.

  Before I can think it through, I make a purchase and send it to HLS. It’s a stupid move and one that will probably make Julian believe I’m willing to give him a chance, fight for him. I simply didn’t see that one on his shelf and want him to have it.

  I put my phone away and don’t scold myself over my idiotic decision. I test my food and a couple solid recipes later, I clean everything up and call it a night. The heavy weight I had on my chest is a few pounds lighter.

  No matter how much I might like Julian, I can’t change who I am, what I believe is right and wrong, in order to make things work with him. I have no idea what kind of relationship we could even have. I’m basing my feelings for him on one incredible night. It could’ve been a fluke.

  He lives in a world where people marry for status, wealth, and power.

  I live in a world where marriage is a symbol of love, honor, and integrity.

  People from those two worlds don’t know how to coexist. I can’t compromise my values for him to gain leverage in the world he lives in. It’s sad that he would think I would be all right with sitting back and waiting however many years it will take for him to complete his business transaction, or worse, be all right with him being front and center with another woman while I hide in the shadows.

  When things ended with Elliott, I retreated into myself. I pushed all of my friends away and even shut out Claire. I wanted to hide away, ashamed that the man I’d fallen in love with, planned to marry, had made such a fool of me. It took me a long time to put myself out there again and I never really did. A few dates here and there, sure, but my heart was never in them. This time it was, and now, that old wound is ripped open.

  I refuse to play the fool again.

  Twenty-Six

  Havoc

  I’m already seated when Michelini Matteo is shown into my office. He’s smiling brightly, but I can guarantee by the end of this meeting, he won’t be fucking smiling anymore.

  “Mr. Havoc, it’s nice to see you again,” he says, extending his hand.

  I give him a firm shake and motion for him to have a seat. I don’t plan on meeting with him for very long. Matteo is my last meeting of the day and I’m ready for it to end before it’s even begun. He has nothing to offer me.

  “I’m going to cut to the chase here, Mr. Matteo,” I say. “Your business hasn’t brought in revenue for the past three years. Your family is sinking money into it without seeing a return. Should we invest, it would not be as an investment partner. We would purchase your restaurant and liquidate it.”

  There goes his smile.

  “Did you see our portfolio? The numbers are improving. You would reap the benefits of your investment.”

  “This isn’t Shark Tank, Mr. Matteo. The valuation doesn’t make sense even if you offered a bigger stake.”

  “We’re doing a lot of new things to improve business and it’s working! We’ve added new items to the menu, and we’ve partnered with other businesses in the area, restaurants and caterers, and we’re hosting a cooking class. There are a lot of other places doing this and business is really increasing through these events. Our class is in a few months, and the other businesses that participate are required to refer clients to all of the other participating businesses. Our projected increase in profit after that class is astronomical.”

  “With all due respect, I don’t think a cooking class is going to skyrocket your business.”

  I’m growing more and more annoyed by the minute. I don’t want to listen to any more of his reasons as to why HLS should invest in his restaurant. Shit, if I don’t shut this meeting down, he’ll be on his knees begging, and trust me, he wouldn’t be the first.

  “Mr. Matteo ―”

  “But it’s working for everyone else! F&C’s Catering has over a hundred people who signed up for their class. They’re doing multiple classes to accommodate everyone, and it’s because they catered your engagement party! If you invest in us, people will recognize that.”

  I open his portfolio and look over it again, knowing there really isn’t anything HLS can do for him, and that buying his company is his best option. We can sell it off and turn a profit. He would be set financially instead of trying to keep a dying business afloat. Yet, I can’t seem to turn him down now that he’s mentioned F&C’s.

  “I will give you one year to start turning a profit,” I say, writing him an offer on a piece of paper. “That is my offer and I want to go to one of F&C’s cooking classes.”

  “You have to buy your tickets online.” I narrow my eyes at him. “But I will get you in.”

  “I’ll have Daysha draw up your contract. One year, Mr. Matteo.”

  He stands up and extends his hand again. “I will not let you down.”

  “Are you referring to the tickets or your restaurant?”

  My question flusters him a bit and he stammers out his answer. He’s only getting this offer if he can get me the tickets to F&C’s class. Apparently, Frankie blocked my number. I tried calling her after she left my house last night. After she told me to stay the fuck away from her.

  If I can’t speak to her on the phone, I can’t sit around on my ass and wait for another chance encounter. I told her I wouldn’t beg, but I’m making myself out to be a liar.

  Why in the fuck am I bending and breaking all of my rules for this woman? I’m used to people cowering down to me. I either make or break them when they walk into my office.

  Not her. She is fucking breaking me.

  “B..b..both. I will get the tickets and I will show you an increase in revenue.” I doubt that. “I also expect you to come to my cooking class. You will love our new items. You’ll want us to cater your wedding.”

  I highly fucking doubt that.

  “Have a nice day, Mr. Matteo.”

  Twenty-Seven

  Frankie

  I know the saying and have rehearsed it in my head so many times I almost believe it. Time heals all wounds. It doesn’t necessarily heal them as much as it replaces them with meaningless things. You find ways to stay busy, fill the void.

  Julian Havoc created more than a wound. He left a void. I’ve been doing my damnedest to fill it. Some days are better than others. Other times, I want to unblock his number and give in. But today is a good day. It’s a busy day and that keeps my mind off of him for the most part.

  Ever since his engagement party — fuck, that makes me sick — F&C’s has received an increased influx of orders. Claire was tempted to turn some of them away, but I welcomed them all. At least that way I’m busy.

  Months ago, we signed up for a community cooking class event that other restaurants and caterers were putting on, and again, thanks to the Havoc engagement party, we sold more tickets than we can accommodate and are having to do three different classes. Tonight is our first one.

  Time isn’t what heals all wounds. Staying busy to the point you have no time to think about anything is what heals all wounds.

  “Do you have the sausage?” Claire asks, walking into the kitchen with a large bin of barbecue sauce.

  “No, you were picking up the sausage.”

  She has this panic-stricken look on her face until Kyle comes in and says, “I’ve got all the sausage you need, babe.”

  I roll my eyes. “I hope you did actually bring the sausage, or we’re sc
rewed.”

  He chuckles at my word usage. “I do have the sausage. Do I ever let you down?”

  “I can honestly say, Kyle, you are the only man I can count on these days.”

  And that is the God’s honest truth. If my dad still lived in New York, I would say him as well. Ever since he and Mom moved to Georgia, we rarely see them.

  I’m lucky to have someone like Kyle in my life. If only all guys were like him. Loyal, honest, and dependable.

  Kyle and Claire have been together since we were in high school. She was an out-of-control wild child and hooked up with a guy from a different school, cheating on her high school sweetheart. Turns out, the guy she cheated with was her soul mate.

  He has always looked after my sister, loved my sister, and took me under his wing as well. I always knew they would get married, have kids, get the whole happily ever after that she deserves.

  I was silly to think I would have that with someone like Julian. He played me some records and told me a story about how he collected them. Damn, he did more than play records that night. He played me. He is a master manipulator and I fell for his charms.

  “So, I invited Ryan,” Claire reveals.

  “You have got to be kidding me.”

  “He didn’t confirm whether he could attend or not, but I figured it couldn’t hurt. You’ve been moping around for weeks now.”

  I glare at her. “Have you seen me shed a single tear?”

  She shrugs. “Well, no, but you’re still moping around and I’m not having you forget the outside world exists over a loser who isn’t worth your time.”

  “Cut her some slack,” Kyle encourages, wrapping his arms around Claire. “She’ll stop moping when she’s ready.”

  I give him a weak smile as he tells us he has to run. He’s on his lunch break and needs to get back to work. Claire reminds him to pick up the kids from school as he rushes out.

  “The apartment is going to be a mess when we get home tonight,” I say, changing the subject so she doesn’t bring up how many pints of ice cream I’ve devoured as part of my moping.

  “Tell me about it. He’s already let me know they’re building a fort in the living room and will be ordering pizza and playing video games.”

  “Forget all this. I’m staying home.”

  I burst out laughing as she threatens me with a spatula. I may not be over Julian, maybe I am moping around, as my sister put it, but I haven’t shed another tear over that man.

  Even if holding them inside is destroying me.

  Twenty-Eight

  Havoc

  I turn off my computer and grab my phone, checking the time as I walk out of my office. I snag the unopened package that was delivered to me today off the corner of my desk on my way out. The damn cooking class starts in less than twenty minutes. I’ve been tied up in meetings all day. There’s no way I’ll get there on time.

  “Julian, are you headed to the restaurant?” my father asks, closing the door to his office.

  “Excuse me?”

  “The dinner? I had your assistant put it on your calendar.”

  I open the calendar on my phone and see reservations for next week. “It’s next Tuesday at seven o’clock. I’ll be there.”

  “No, it’s this Tuesday. Tonight,” he says with a huff. “I know you checked her references, but I insist on her immediate termination. I’m certain you can find an adequate replacement.”

  “Daysha is doing her job adequately. I have to go.”

  “You will take care of her first thing in the morning.”

  “Diavolo lo faro,” I reply, shaking my head.

  Without saying another word, I get on the elevator so I can at least attempt to take part in the cooking class at F&C’s. It’s been too long since I’ve seen Frankie. She makes me want to forget everything I have worked for, everything I’ve earned. Makes me want to break my word and drop to my knees, beg her for another chance. Beg her not to give up on me.

  I struggle to maintain my composure when I’m around her. I forget who I am, who I’m supposed to be. I’m not the ruthless businessman who destroys other people. I am simply a man.

  I get in my car and toss the package onto the passenger seat. Daysha said it arrived earlier, although I don’t recall ordering anything. Even though I’m running late, I open it. Smiling, I run my fingers over the record cover. I Can’t Make You Love Me. Fuck me. Maybe I have a chance after all.

  When I arrive at F&C’s, I have to park three blocks down the street. The class is being held inside, and I have no idea how everyone will fit. All of the tables are full, everyone wearing aprons with their supplies in front of them. The blonde from my party hands me an apron and shows me to a spot.

  “We haven’t done a lot yet except make the meat mixture. We have some pre-mixed in case some people were late. I’ll be right back with that.”

  I nod and after a couple of minutes, she returns with a bowl. “What’s in this?”

  “This is ground sausage, ground Angus steak, some different seasonings, stuff like that. Put on the gloves. You’re going to use the ice cream scoop to ball it up into meatballs. See, like everyone else is doing.”

  I follow her instructions while looking around the crowd to try and get a glimpse of Frankie. I didn’t come here to make meatballs. I came for her. I may technically be off the market, but I’m not giving up so easily.

  Unfortunately, I don’t see Frankie, but I do see Graham and Soraya at a station. A flicker of annoyance courses through me. Why are they here?

  Graham gives me a slight nod and Soraya a polite wave, her blue-tipped hair pulled back in a ponytail. It occurs to me once again how out of place she is in the world Graham and I are both a part of, yet it doesn’t seem to affect her.

  Would it come to Frankie so easily?

  “Once your meat mixture is all rolled out, we’ll get those into the ovens, which we have pre-heated to three hundred and fifty degrees. Then you’ll start working on your sauce.”

  I recognize her voice instantly, but try as I may, I don’t see her. I keep scooping out the meat, rolling the mixture in my palms and placing it onto the tray while my eyes scan the room.

  “If this is your first time ever cooking, raise your hand.”

  I may be an amateur cook, but I have cooked before, and in this very kitchen to be exact. I keep my hand down while a few others timidly raise theirs. I hear her laugh and my dick jumps at the sound. It’s been too damn long since I’ve held her in my arms, been inside her.

  “You’re going to do great. This is an easy recipe and one that really doesn’t take that much time.”

  “It also goes with pretty much anything,” her sister adds. “Everyone likes that type of dish, right?” The crowd murmurs their approval, and I feel an elbow in my back, nudging me sharply. “It’s so easy, even a lying, cheating asshole can do it.”

  Claire says this quietly so that only I can hear it and continues walking around the room surveying everyone’s trays. I place my last bit of meat on mine and look up to see Frankie glaring at me.

  A few people start carrying their trays over and putting them in the ovens, taking a number and timer from Frankie so that they know what oven their tray is in.

  I wait until Claire is on the other side of the room so that she can’t cockblock me before I take my tray up to Frankie. She avoids eye contact as I hand it to her.

  “Thank you for the record,” I say but she doesn’t respond. “You can’t avoid me all night, Frankie. I’m a paying customer.”

  “More like a begging customer and I didn’t think you begged, Julian.”

  I chuckle. “This isn’t begging. A lion always stalks his prey.”

  Twenty-Nine

  Frankie

  By the end of the class, I am beyond exhausted. My feet are killing me, and my cheeks hurt from plastering a fake smile on my face. It was a little fun, though. I was pleased to see Graham and Soraya in attendance and maybe a bit happy that Ryan didn’t show up.

>   I’m pretty sure I’ve made a new friend in Soraya. She scheduled another lunch date so we can finalize all the details for another event, which is actually a small dinner party for Graham. That itself is a reason to be happy. New friends are always fun.

  Besides, when I wasn’t obsessing about Julian being here, I actually enjoyed myself. Unfortunately, I wasn’t able to completely ignore his presence.

  He seemed to make it a point to get close to me as often as possible. He had rolled up the sleeves of his white button down and all I could think about was peeling it off of him.

  When I would walk around observing the other patrons, he would draw me to his station by asking for help. I wouldn’t have been a proper host had I ignored him. Claire made all attempts she could to intercept but he would give her the brush off.

  At least the class was a success, and if tonight is any indication of how the others will go, we’ll do well with those, too.

  “Would you like to try my creation?”

  I turn off an oven that was somehow missed and although I don’t want to face him, I do. If anything, it’s to show him that he doesn’t intimidate me. That he doesn’t affect me. Julian stands there with his container of meatballs, a grin on his handsome face. Damn, I’m both intimidated and affected.

  “Why are you here?” I snap.

  “I heard there was a cooking class in the area. I’ve recently discovered that I enjoy cooking.”

  “You are such a fucking liar.”

  “As are you,” he retorts.

  “Me?” I stare at him incredulously. “I am not a liar! I am not the one who’s engaged and cheated on my fiancée!”

  “I could call her right now and tell her I fucked you the night of our engagement party and she wouldn’t give a damn about it! You saw how she behaved at the dinner party.”