by Olivia Luck
Iris doesn’t try to wriggle free from my grasp. In fact, she settles into my hold, looking hopeful and uncertain. “How do you figure?”
“She sees how deeply you love working with the teenagers at Mentoring Chicago. She knows you hate traipsing around events in high heels and talking to event guests. My guess, Violet feels guilty because she knows you’re too supportive, too kind, and too giving to stand up for your own needs.” I drop Iris’ hands and lean back in my seat for good measure. The longer I hold her hands, the harder it is to think logically.
“But I don’t want to let her down,” Iris says quietly.
“Iris, don’t take this the wrong way, but you need to flex that backbone I know you have. Eventually, you’ll resent your sister. You’ll feel trapped because you let yourself work for a business you don’t believe in. Don’t do that to yourself, Iris. Own your dreams. Go after what you want. That doesn’t mean you need to leave Violet high and dry. You need to talk to her woman to woman. Be honest. Start there and you’ll work it out.”
My girl studies the untouched food on her plate, letting my advice sink in.
Yes. My girl. That fits. All this logic I’m spouting to her applies to me too. What I want is Iris Harper. I’ve been resisting and resisting her pull, and where has that gotten me? Pissed off and alone. So it’s time to own it. Bullshit excuses like business and fear are ruining my chance at happiness. Fuck that. I didn’t become the head of a restaurant empire by doubting myself and pushing back against my instincts. My instincts are screaming at me—this woman is for you.
“Okay. You’re right.” She inhales, and then exhales deeply. “It’s crazy that I’m scared to talk to Violet. She’s my sister, my best friend. If I can’t talk to her, then who can I talk to?”
“We trust the people we’re closest with our most intimate secrets. Admitting what you want to Violet makes it real.”
“You make it sound simple.” Midnight eyes go wide with uncertainty.
“Don’t give yourself time to be afraid. Talk to her tomorrow.” Frowning, I look at her untouched plate. “And for God’s sake, eat something.”
Iris is adorable when she blinks and looks down at her plate as though she had no idea anything was on it until now. “Oh.” Her cheeks redden. “Right.” Iris places the chopsticks between her fingers and deftly selects a piece of nigiri. “It’s a good thing I’m not a picky eater,” she muses.
“Why’s that?”
Iris finishes chewing and swallowing the food before answering. “Not that I’m complaining, but you hardly ever ask what I like. Most of the time, you run the show. Pick out what and where we eat.”
Involuntarily, my lips curl toward a smile. “It has become your mission command to remind me of my proclivity for control.”
“If the apron fits.” She smiles a little at me, and I fight the urge to do a victory lap.
This is the first small battle to overcome. Even though Iris and I are sitting across the table eating in companionable silence, I’m aware that I’ve set the standard that the relationship must remain platonic. Iris treats me with little more romance than she would one of the teenagers in her Mentoring Chicago class. There’s no one to place the blame on but myself, but that doesn’t mean I can’t fix this situation. No more holding back. I am going to make my intentions clear.
Violet
Curled on my side in Cameron’s massive king-size bed, I whistle to Rocky, beckoning him to the bed. The dog leaps onto the mattress, tucking himself into my curved body. I press my cheek against his fur. The physical comfort doesn’t deter my self-loathing thoughts. How could I attack Iris the way I did earlier today? I feel like the world’s biggest bully for slashing into her.
The mechanical sound of the garage door hums beneath the second-story bedroom. Then I hear the door slam and the sound of Cameron making his way through the house. I can visualize his movements, from removing his jacket and tossing it on a hook in the mudroom to hanging his keys on the hook next to the back door.
It doesn’t take him but a moment’s time to assess the mood of his bedroom. “Baby, what’s wrong?”
Careful not to disturb the lightly snoozing Rocky, I uncurl from around him and move to a seated position. “Do you think I’m a bad sister?”
Cameron’s eyebrows knit together. “Of course, not. Why would you ask me something that ridiculous?” He sits on the edge of the bed, prompting Rocky to fully awaken, lick his master’s hand, and move to the other side of the bed to rest unbothered by our conversation.
“Today, I went after Iris. Verbally, I mean.” The confession makes me ashamed enough not to meet his eyes when I speak.
Cameron grabs my chin and forces my gaze upward. His expression shines with loyalty—one of the hundreds of reasons I fell in love with him after thinking I’d never find a partner again. “If you got upset with her, there must have been a good reason for it. And we all fly off the handle at times. You must not have seen a game during my rookie season when I got into a fight with a left wing from Milwaukee.”
My curiosity is piqued. “But goalies aren’t fighters.”
Cameron smiles ruefully. “That day I bent the rules. The dick talked shit on my sister. What was I supposed to do?”
At the mention of a sibling, I’m immediately thrown back into remorse. “Iris promised one of her students she would go to his cooking competition. Normally, that wouldn’t be a problem, but it so happens to fall on the same day as the Sterling wedding. I felt like she slapped me.” Anger stirs. “How could she forget the date of our most important event? It was a glaring sign that she doesn’t care about this job. And—and it hurt my feelings.”
Cameron releases my chin, then leans forward and touches our lips together in a gentle kiss. “Forgot to do that when I walked in,” he murmurs, his breath skirting over my face pleasantly. My tense shoulders slump, and I lean back into the pillows, ready for his assessment. “Sounds like a shitty situation. But we’re not discussing whether Iris did this on purpose, are we?”
“Of course, she didn’t do it on purpose,” I instantly jump to defend. “When we were kids, Iris used to carry spiders out of the house because she didn’t want to kill them. The last thing she ever intends to do is hurt someone.” My voice fades away. “Still, I accused of her not giving a darn about Expertly Planned.”
“Did you say that because you mean it, or because you are afraid of it?” Ever the observer, Cameron asks the question gently, knowing it will pierce straight through my heart.
“Worse than that, I dumped it on her that we’re moving in together. Like some twisted version of revenge.”
Cameron doesn’t bother to hide his grimace. “Not the best timing.”
Groaning, I shake my head. “There are half a dozen reasons I can blame on the blowup. Iris really did screw up by promising to go to the competition, Jana Sterling tests my sanity on a daily basis, I’m about to move in with you . . .”
“If you aren’t ready to take that step in our relationship–” I cut Cameron off before he can finish.
“That is not what I’m saying. I’m more than ready to move in with you, Cameron. The looming changes just make me anxious. Figuring out how to tell my sister, boxing all my things, picking a place to live . . . None of that is bad, but it’s a lot for me to wrap my mind around while planning an event that will put me on the figurative map.” Cameron looks appeased, so I continue. “None of those are good enough excuses for shouting at Iris in front of Oscar and then taking digs at her in front of Stella. Low, low, low.” Burying my face in my hands, I shake my head back and forth a couple of times as if to erase the memories.
“Violet, stop destroying yourself over this. Iris will forgive you.” Cameron pulls my hands from my face. With the back of his hand, he brushes a lock of hair behind my ear, then curls his fingers around the shell for good measure. I nuzzle into his hand.
“You’re right. I’m being dramatic.”
“Get to the heart of what’s both
ering you,” Cameron encourages.
“I’m scared she’s not going to want to work for Expertly Planned anymore.” The words come out in a rush, but after I say them aloud, some of the tightness in my chest abates.
“Keep going.”
“We lost ten years together. Ten freaking years because I ran away, and she wasn’t ready to go, and Father put a moratorium on our relationship that neither one of us was strong enough to fight. Expertly Planned isn’t right for Iris. She hates interfacing with clients and guests, and high heels are enemy number one. She should be teaching or in a kitchen or doing something that fulfills her. Expertly Planned is my dream. But I want her in my life, too.”
“You being closer to Iris and her working elsewhere are not mutually exclusive.”
I let his words sink in. Logically, I know he’s right. Emotionally, on the other hand . . .”If she leaves Expertly Planned, I’m scared she may go back to Winter.”
Cameron scoffs. “Come on. That won’t happen. I’ll admit it’s taken her a while to take a shine to Chicago, but she’s starting to love it here. She and Dex hang out, she has the mentoring program, and she has us. You’re making excuses to fit your theory.”
All of a sudden, a memory flashes in my mind, and my spine goes rod straight. “Oscar Alexander offered to fill in for Iris while she attends the competition. He said he’ll even meet with us ahead of time to figure out what needs to be done.”
Cameron raises one of his dark eyebrows. “Come again?”
“Exactly. I was too upset at the time to think about it, but . . .” At Cameron’s confused expression, I back up. “Oscar and his partner, Clint, were at our offices today because we’re doing an event for the opening of Mariquita.”
“I remember now.”
“And then Clint left, and Oscar hung around. I know they’re friends, but Iris insists it’s nothing more. Anytime I bring it up, she gets super uncomfortable, so I drop it. Anyway, Iris got a text from her students confirming the date, and I saw it–”
“Hold on,” Cameron interrupts. “You looked at her phone without her permission, or she showed it to you?”
I wince. “Another thing I need to apologize for. We argued—rather, I started shouting at my sister and then he interrupted, offering a solution to the situation. It was the type of thing you would suggest.” My eyes meet Cameron’s in a silent conversation. “Do you think . . .”
“If he wants to make a play for Iris, he’s going to have to talk to me first.” Cameron uses his gruff, tough, testosterone-fueled hockey voice that typically makes chills erupt all over my body. This time, I’m smiling at his protectiveness over Iris.
“Before you do anything, I need to talk to my sister and figure this out.”
Cameron hooks an arm around my waist and pulls me onto his lap. He burrows his face into the crook of my neck, his breath tickling my skin. “You’ll make it right, baby. I have faith in you.”
Sighing, I snuggle into his embrace. “You know just what to say to make everything better.” Cameron squeezes me tighter, and in a flash, I’m lying flush on the mattress with him looming over me.
“Anything else you want to discuss?” he asks huskily.
I shake my head back and forth quickly.
“Good.” Then his lips crash down on mine, and I stop thinking for a little while.
Iris
Violet doesn’t come to the office first thing in the morning, but this was already on the schedule. While she’s at a meeting at the Scrapers headquarters, I spend the morning catching up on emails and researching planners to interview for Stella and Blake’s wedding. I have plenty of free time to stew over our argument . . . and Oscar’s surprise visit.
He continues to find new ways to show me how much our friendship means to him. This morning, he texted me—just to check in! No one really texts me except my sister, sometimes Cameron, and now, Dex, who I hang out with occasionally. Waking up to a message from Oscar gave me an instant, goofy grin. It gave me a rush of adrenaline, a reminder that I could face this day and my sister.
Not that Violet’s scary, per se, but I hurt her, and I disappointed myself. This morning, I had to face both of those emotions. Even though he wasn’t there with me physically, Oscar managed to improve my mood and boost my confidence. That’s what friends are for, right? Yeah, I’m not buying that the way my heart races and my lips involuntarily curl into a smile at one little text message is in the friend zone.
That’s it. I can’t do this on my own anymore. For the past few months, I’ve been predicting how Violet will react to certain things I’ve done or not done. It’s not fair to assume how she may respond to my dreams.
The door to the office flies open and Violet whirls inside, her face stretched into a huge smile. As she rushes into the office, she dumps her tote bag and jacket onto her desk, speaking rapidly. “There’s a lot hanging in the air between us, but can we put that on pause for a moment? I’m dying to tell you about the meeting this morning.”
My heart warms, and I nearly sigh with relief. I had no serious doubts Violet and I wouldn’t overcome this fight, but this type of argument is unfamiliar to me, and I am not sure how forgiveness and healing will play out.
Pushing my computer a few inches away, I give her my full attention. “Go for it.”
“The recap meeting with the operations team was uneventful. Feedback and all the regular stuff. After the meeting, I’m saying good-bye to Dom and Stella, and Paige gets my attention.”
“Paige, as in the woman Dominic dated for a little while?” Dominic is the brother of Violet’s deceased husband and a close friend to Violet.
“Yes. She was the one who absolutely loathed me. Or I thought she did because we disagree in almost every meeting. After the meeting, she pulls me aside and shoves her left hand in my face. She’s engaged to her high school boyfriend, and she wants me to plan her wedding. My mouth literally dropped open in shock, and I had the nerve to ask her why she wanted me.” Violet rolls her eyes.
“She wants the best,” I say loyally. A lump of emotion forms in my throat making it hard to swallow. Wetness liquefies Violet’s eyes, and she rushes toward me. I hop to my feet and throw my arms open to accommodate her embrace. We cling together, rocking back and forth. Violet’s watery laughter is contagious, and the hugs fall apart with me leaning against my sister’s shoulder.
“What a pair we are,” I mutter.
Violet sobers as her laughter dissipates. She moves to sit on the top of her desk, and I settle my weight next to her. Violet places her hand on top of mine. “I love you, sister, sister. What I said to you yesterday . . . I take it all back. All the criticisms were completely unfounded. Accepting Michael’s invitation wasn’t a slight to me. You forgot.”
“Don’t make excuses for me, Violet. The date of the Sterling wedding should be burned into my brain.”
“Nevertheless, it wasn’t like you planned the overlap,” Violet says firmly. “No one talks bad about my sister. Not even her sister.”
I smile a little at that. “Facts are facts.”
“There’s a bigger issue here,” Violet hedges. Anxiously, I glance at her.
“Wait. Don’t say anything.” I raise my hand. Violet’s brows knit together. “You shouldn’t have to guess what’s on my mind. I’m a big girl. I need to communicate things to you.” A wave of uneasiness crashes over me, diminishing my resolve. “Why is this so hard?” I burst in frustration.
“Do you want to know what I realized, Iris?”
From the corner of my eye, I find her looking at me with embarrassment clouding her features. “What’s that?”
“From the day that I invited you to live and work with me, I haven’t even once asked you what it is that you want. I can't expect you to play the supporting character to my career goals. You have to be the star of your own life. I-I don't think I really, truly understood that until now. I'm sorry for bulldozing you, Iris.”
Shifting so that I face her fully, I frown.
“Don’t you dare make my inability to stand up for myself your problem, Violet Harper. We both know that since I was a child, I didn’t have the courage to speak up. You gave me a ticket out of that life, and for that, I’m more grateful than I can put into words.”
“If you don’t want to blame me, let’s blame Father.” Despite the sour memories of our oppressive dad, Violet and I share a bittersweet smile.
“He didn’t help the situation, that’s for sure. Violet, you have to know that I love spending every day with you and learning from you. I’m proud of the events and the company. I could be doing a lot of worse things than spending a Saturday night watching a couple get married and spending time with the most important person in my life.”
“But event planning isn’t your dream. It’s what I want.” Violet jumps in with a sad smile.
“Well, I wouldn’t put it that bluntly.” We share a look of silent understanding.
“When I saw you with all your kids at Oscar’s restaurant, I knew. You came alive that night. I watched you talk to every child’s parent, even the students who weren’t in your class. To an outsider, it looked like you had known them all for ages. The way you acted was the embodiment of my feelings to event planning. Working with young people and baking come naturally to you like schmoozing clients, planning menus, and selecting vendors does for me. Nothing’s wrong with it, but I’ve been fighting those differences since the moment I offered you the job.”
Curiosity wins out over gentleness. “Why?”
Violet’s voice goes small, and she looks down at her lap. “Because I want to keep you. We were apart for ten years, and I’m afraid that if we don’t work together, you’ll go back to Winter. I don’t want to lose you again, Iris. I carry a lot of guilt for leaving you there for so long.” The vulnerability in her tone makes my heart clench painfully.
