Sweet Talker

by Robin Bielman

  Callie’s eyes dip to the exposed skin at the base of my neck before jumping back up to my face. “Mmm hmm. He likes everything just so. God forbid there’s a spoon out of place or a napkin folded a millimeter off.”

  “Sounds horribly meticulous.”

  “Exactly. And don’t get me started on the restaurant vibe he insists on.”

  I scratch my head. I do?

  “Plus, he treats everyone like they can do no wrong, which means I’m the bad guy when they do wrong. It’s really annoying.”

  Her cheeky smirk is so damn attractive, I want to kiss her until she forgets all about the hot tub guy. Instead, I grip the edge of the couch cushion to stop myself from pouncing, and enjoy several pleasant seconds of a staring contest, the air crackling with energy and playfulness.

  If we don’t leave this room in the next five seconds, my self-control will snap.

  Chapter Six

  To the Rescue

  Pascale

  Ethan is looking at me like he wants to pounce, which means it’s time to go back downstairs. I hold his gaze for another second, reveling in the focused attention before I break eye contact to slip my pink suede pointy-toe pumps back on. It takes superhuman strength. Not to put my shoes on. To look away and abandon the pull between us when what I really want is to replace birthday-blow-job-girl as the best hookup in this room.

  “I’m hungry. You hungry?” I ask.

  He raises his brows in a far too appealing way. Shit. Wrong choice of words. “For food,” I clarify.

  “You sure that’s all you’re hungry for?”

  I stand, run my hands down my dress to smooth it. “Yes.”

  “Let’s go then.” He leads me to the gourmet kitchen where chef-manned food stations are set up. Chloe loves to eat and there are six different choices. We enjoyed the potato bar earlier. I loaded mine with cheese, broccoli and sundried tomatoes. Ethan chose cheese, scallions, bacon and more bacon.

  “Biscuit bar for me,” I say, stepping away from him. The flaky buttermilk biscuits look delicious all by themselves, but I add pulled pork, barbecue sauce, and coleslaw.

  Ethan rejoins me with a plate of fresh linguini smothered in a spicy meat sauce by the pungent smell of it. We sit on a love seat in the living room. The house is quite large and guests are spread out so we’ve got this area to ourselves. A server stops to offer us sparkling water or champagne. I never drink while on assignment so accept a glass of water. Ethan does the same.

  “Where did you guys disappear to?” Drew asks, appearing out of nowhere and lifting a glass of champagne off the server’s tray. He sits on the adjacent love seat.

  I’d hoped no one noticed we were gone.

  “I was just giving Pascale a mini tour of the house.”

  “So, to the media room?” Drew says casually, leading me to wonder if I read more into the interlude than was there.

  My cheeks burn at the thought. I’m also ashamed of myself for going upstairs with Ethan in the first place. I take a bite of my biscuit while I study Drew. Amusement is written all over his face as he waits for Ethan to answer. He knows. He knows about my past with Ethan.

  “Don’t you have someone else to bug?” Ethan says.

  Drew’s relaxed posture speaks for itself. He turns his attention to me. “Ethan filled me and Finn in on the two of you knowing each other. Previously.”

  “A long time ago, yes.”

  “My whole family is in on it now,” he says amicably. I appreciate the confirmation.

  “I gathered that was a possibility from Rosemary,” I say, happy to have this out in the open and relieved I haven’t been fired. “She’s a crack-up and very interested in her grandsons’ lives.”

  “Do we see things rekindling between the two of you?” Drew asks, still amiably, but also with tongue-in-cheek humor that tells me he finds the situation I’m in highly entertaining.

  I laugh at the same time Ethan says, “Jesus, Drew.” Then Ethan looks at me. “What’s so funny?”

  “Your brother.”

  Drew grins. The handsome gene runs amok with these boys and it’s amplified when they smile. Two passing girls, friends of Chloe’s I assume, sigh as they walk by.

  Drew notices them, sets his glass down on an end table, and stands. “Now that that’s settled, I see other guests who need my attention.”

  “Nothing is settled,” Ethan calls out after him.

  “I like him,” I say.

  “Unfortunately, so do I.”

  “My sister is the same way. She thinks she’s the most charming person in our family. And she pretty much is. Don’t ever tell her I said that, though.” I take another bite of my food and moan at how mouthwatering it tastes. “You have to have a bite of this. The biscuit melts in your mouth.” I hand a forkful over.

  Ethan’s fingers brush mine on the handoff. The faint touch vibrates through my entire body. His hands are big, capable, the kind you hold on to and hate to let go of.

  He slides the fork into his mouth. Pulls it out slowly and hands it back to me while he carefully chews, seeming to savor every flavor. It’s fun to watch one of the best restaurateurs in the country taste something new. He eats with commitment, like he’s cataloging not only the taste, but the way the food makes him feel as well.

  “Very good,” he says.

  “What’s your favorite food?” I ask. “If you could only eat one thing every day for a year, what would it be?”

  I dig into my biscuit while he considers my question. “Cereal.”

  “Cereal?”

  He shrugs a shoulder. “I love cereal. And you said ‘eat one thing’ not one kind of thing, so there are lots of cereals I like. I could easily eat it every day and not get bored or sick of it. Now your turn.”

  “Okay then, Mr. Cereal, I’ll answer with sandwiches.”

  “Touché.”

  “Turkey, grilled cheese, PB&J, egg salad, BLT, the list goes on and on.”

  “Almost as long as my cereal list.” He cracks a smile before taking a bite of his pasta. We finish our food while we people-watch out the floor-to-ceiling window where guests are gathered in the backyard. “If I haven’t told you lately, you’re doing a great job at Royal.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Do you ever wish you’d opened the coffee bar and café? Your restaurant instincts are spot-on, and I wonder if your intelligence and skill is wasted on management when you’d make a great owner, too.”

  I choke down my last bite of biscuit. I have sometimes wished for my life to be different. More so lately, undoubtedly because of what happened with Ireland, Grant, and Rylee. “Sometimes.”

  “But?”

  I chose a different path for a reason: to honor my best friend. Keeping people safe makes me feel like I’m doing something Hillary would be proud of. She dreamed of us opening a café together, but she also fed the homeless once a month and volunteered at a women’s shelter. She always gave more than she received.

  “It wouldn’t be the same without Hillary.” She’d had ideas for Mocha Mondays and Frost It Fridays, while I’m a much more straightforward kind of girl.

  “Well, it’s my good fortune then that you were available to take Charlotte’s place.”

  Good fortune. Intentional happenstance. Same thing, right? Not by a long shot. Laughter sounds from outside, the perfect interference to our conversation. “Let’s check out what all the fun is about.”

  Ethan studies me, his open regard raising the hair on the back of my neck. I’m pretty sure he senses my unease, but he lets it go with a tiny knit to his brows. “All right.”

  We drop our plates and water glasses off in the kitchen then join Finn, Chloe and other guests gathered around a giant custom wheel of fun. Some of the activities on the wheel are “Show Us Your Best Dance Moves,” “Tell Your Best Joke,” and “Bride and Groom Kiss.” Drew spins the wheel. It lands on “Pick a Couple to Kiss.”

  Drew scans the small crowd and the closer he gets to making eye contact wit
h me or Ethan, the faster my heart beats. I’ve thought about kissing Ethan again a million times, but not once did it include an audience. Not that Drew will pick us. There are other couples to give the task to.

  “Oh, hey, we haven’t done the word search yet. Come on.” I grab Ethan’s hand and tug him away before we’re maybe asked to kiss. Even a tiny peck on my forehead would undo me. Ethan’s lips anywhere on my body have always sparked a need for more action. Time and distance may have fallen between us, but when I recall our summer together, it’s like it was yesterday and I crave a repeat of what we had.

  The extra-large chalkboard is out of view of the activity wheel. A few people linger nearby talking. I pick up a piece of chalk and hand it to Ethan then grab a stick for myself.

  “No threat of kissing here,” he jokes. “Although, I do spy a smooch.” He circles the word “smooch” on the chalkboard. The letters on the board are written in permanent paint and we’re to use chalk for circling words before we erase the board for the next person. Earlier, I overheard someone say Chloe is like a walking dictionary, hence the fun diversion.

  I circle “Landsharks,” the name of Finn’s baseball team, followed immediately by “bride.”

  “Oh, so we’re not taking turns. Okay.” Ethan brushes my side and circles “marriage.”

  I find “congratulations.”

  He finds “baseball.”

  We both go for “wedded bliss.” He lets me have it.

  Standing close like this, shoulder to shoulder while we try to top each other, has an uncontrollable smile taking over my face, our competitive streaks more fun than contentious.

  “Webster?” I say when he circles the word. “I don’t think so.”

  “It’s Finn’s nickname for Chloe. Try to keep up, would you?” He circles “groom.”

  Out of the corner of my eye I see he’s grinning. I locate “honeymoon.” Then “forever.”

  He circles “fender bender.”

  “Seriously?” I say, turning to him with a hand on my hip.

  “It’s how they met the first time.”

  I need more details on that, but as I twist back to the chalkboard, my phone buzzes with a text. I pull it out of the pocket of my dress to see it’s an urgent message from Paige. Since I know she’s roommate-free for the weekend, the other girls on a road trip to San Diego, my pulse picks up a notch in worry. I open the text and read she’s locked herself out of her apartment and there’s a guy she’s never seen before lurking around the complex. She’s freaking out and needs me to let her in to her place before she’s murdered.

  Paige, my darling sister, is slightly overdramatic. She’s also taken self-defense classes and listened to my lectures, but I still can’t get to her fast enough.

  “Everything okay?” Ethan asks.

  “No. I need to hurry to Paige’s. She’s locked herself out of her apartment.” I send a quick text back. Go to Jo’s and I’ll be there in twenty.

  “There’s no spare key inside a fake rock?” Ethan kids. Worry must show on my face because he quickly adds, “Sorry. Obviously, a bad joke. I’ll go with you.”

  “No. You need to stay. It’s not that late and there’s still the cake to cut. I’ve got this. Please tell everyone goodbye for me.” I speed walk into the house to grab my purse.

  Another text sounds from Paige. Can’t. She’s out on a date. I’m all alone! With my Mace, tho. You in the car yet? What’s taking you sooo long?

  “This is the third time she’s locked herself out.” I don’t know why I tell Ethan this. Maybe because I’m frustrated in addition to being concerned. I need to buy Paige a lanyard to wear around her neck with her house key on it. I text back, Sit tight. I’m on my way.

  “She lives near school?” Ethan asks.

  “Yes. A few blocks away in off-campus housing.” Where is my handbag? I not-so-gently search through the purses on the bed in the guest bedroom.

  Ethan puts his hand on my arm. “Take a breath.” I do. “I can see you’re nervous for her so let me drive you.”

  His protectiveness is sexy considering he has no idea my level of badassery. When it comes to my sister, though, I tend to let my emotions fly. I also don’t have time to argue with him so I say, “Fine. We’ll go help her and then come right back.”

  Paige really needs a car. If she had one she could drive to Mom and Dad’s or lock herself in it until I got there. I silently laugh. She’d probably misplace that key, too.

  Thankfully, we’re not that far from her university and we arrive at her apartment complex quickly. We’re climbing out of Ethan’s car and hurrying up the concrete walkway toward her building when I get another text. The lurker is actually killer cute and keeping me company. Take your time.

  I’m going to kill my sister.

  “Problem?” Ethan asks.

  “Yes. Younger sisters are put on this earth for what purpose, again?”

  He laughs, and the tension headache mounting behind my eyes evaporates. His companionship makes everything better. “I feel you. The same could be said for younger brothers. At least you only have one sister.”

  Thank God for that. We turn the corner into the pentagon-shaped common area where there are large grassy areas and trees. I immediately spot Paige sitting on the stairs up to the second floor of her building. She’s leaning in way too close to a guy wearing a Chargers jersey.

  “Hello!” I call out.

  Paige jerks back from the football fan and jumps to her feet. “Oh, hey.” Her gaze tracks from me to Ethan and her eyes widen. I’m not sure if it’s in surprise or appreciation. Probably both.

  “Who’s your friend?” I ask.

  “Trevor,” she says with conviction to let me know she was smart enough to ask him that at least. “He’s visiting his cousin and his cousin forgot he was arriving tonight. He’s on his way back from a fraternity party now.”

  “Hi.” Trevor gives a wave.

  “We’ll take it from here, Trevor,” I say.

  “Sure. I’ll see you around, Paige,” he says nice enough, but he’s checking out my sister so I just mentally ripped his nice card in half. Paige is the kind of girl who falls in love after one meeting, which has led to too many heartbreaks to count.

  “Okay. See ya.”

  I gently take her elbow and lead her upstairs. She looks over her shoulder at Ethan. “Who’s your friend?”

  “Hey, Paige. I’m Ethan.”

  “You look familiar.”

  “You’ve probably seen a picture of him online somewhere,” I say. My family knows I’m back in town for a job, and that this time the job is strictly confidential. They also know not to mention my work to anyone. Still, I failed to think this through when I agreed to have Ethan drive me here. “His family owns a bunch of hotels.”

  “I can’t believe you’ve been keeping him a secret from me.” She turns her head back around. “He’s hot,” she half-whispers.

  Yes, he is. I fish my keys out of my bag. The decorative Minion key Paige gave me is easy to spot on the key ring. I unlock her door. She shares her two-bedroom apartment with four other girls and I’m not saying they’re messy, but it looks like a clothes bomb went off in the living room.

  “I see neatness runs in the family,” Ethan teases.

  “You’ve been to her house?” Paige questions with interest. “This must be serious. Tell me everything.” She plops down on the couch.

  “We have to go,” I tell her. “Lock up behind us.”

  “What’s the rush?” she asks, giving Ethan and me a good once-over. “Oh, shit. I interrupted your date.” She jumps to her feet. “A fancy one by the looks of it. I’m so sorry. Carry on.” She gestures for us to leave. “Thanks for coming to my rescue.” There’s a twinkle in her eye that tells me it won’t be the last time she needs rescuing and I wonder if it’s time I make SoCal my permanent home again so I can be close by. It didn’t matter so much when she was in high school and living at home, but now her independence affects me on a dee
per level. I want her to be safe and independent at the same time I feel a tug to be even more close-knit. Like true sisters. Not me playing second mom. The older Paige gets the less our nine-year age gap matters.

  I give her a hug. “Anytime. You know that.”

  “I’ll call you tomorrow,” she says. “At which time you’ll give me all the details on your date.”

  “He’s not really—”

  “Your sister is special,” Ethan interrupts. He puts his arm around me and brings me flush against his side.

  “I know. So you better treat her right. Otherwise you’ll have to answer to me.”

  “Got it.” Ethan turns his face to mine, his mouth spread in a slim, but potent smile.

  This is the closest his lips have been to mine and I’m dangerously close to planting a quick kiss on him—in thanks. No other reason. Instead, I wiggle away.

  “I’ll talk to you later,” I say.

  “Oh! I’ve been meaning to ask if I can meet up with you and Dax? This week?”

  “Dax?” Ethan says.

  “Our trainer,” Paige says.

  “Our?” I argue.

  “Yours. Whatever.”

  I give her another hug, happy she wants to kick some ass with me. “Yes, of course.”

  “Is this a girls-only thing or can I grace you with my muscled presence?”

  Paige giggles. Great. Ethan’s got her fascinated with him already. “Muscles are always welcome,” she says.

  “No, they’re not.” I shoot down this little fanfest and get two frowns for my rebuttal. I have to draw the line somewhere. I can’t have Ethan and Paige getting to know each another.

  Ethan is not my friend. He’s my client. I can’t forget I have a job to do and that I’m not being honest with him. I have to remember when he finds out the truth, he may never forgive me.

  Chapter Seven

  Protective Instinct

  Pascale

  A sublime sense of happiness fills me when I walk into Royal in the mornings. Before the restaurant opens and customers sit down, the gleaming, quiet space is all mine and any troubles from the day before are wiped clean. I’m falling in love with the intimate atmosphere. The neo-impressionist paintings on the walls. The crisp white linens and leather padded mission chairs.