Beau nodded. “It’s fine, Cash. She’ll never know.” Then his eyes narrowed. “Unless you tell her.”
Cash closed his eyes, gritting his teeth. “I’m not going to tell her.”
He’d regretted saying that many times, because Beau’s cheating had continued. Callie needed to know. But it was hard to sort out his own tortured feelings. Did he want her to know so she and Beau would break up? Because even if they did, he could never have her. She’d always be his best friend’s ex. And maybe he was a bit of a coward, because he sure as shit didn’t want to be the one to deliver that blow to her. So he’d kept silent while the knowledge ate away at him, and his friendship with Beau deteriorated.
“We good, man?” Beau’d asked him later that night.
No. I’m pissed at you. But once again, he’d swallowed his anger and frustration, hiding his true feelings. “Yeah. We’re good.”
But it wasn’t that simple. They’d been friends a long time. Cash would always be grateful to Beau for how he’d accepted him and brought him into his circle of friends when they’d met in college. Cash had grown up in a whole different stratosphere than Beau had. Beau’s family was almost as wealthy as the Sutherlands. Raised by a single mom, without his football scholarship there was no way Cash would have been able to attend UT, and he’d definitely felt out of place and different at first. But he and Beau had become partners on the football field and friends off it. Now they were business partners with a successful company that had changed his life and was on the verge of making them millions of dollars.
As angry as he’d been with Beau, the two of them were a good business combination, with Beau’s big-picture thinking and business connections, and Cash’s take-charge nature and attention to detail. They couldn’t throw that kind of money out the window, not to mention the livelihoods of the people who worked for them. And Cash couldn’t throw away the opportunity to help his family. To make his mother’s life easier and repay her for everything she’d sacrificed for him.
Damn, he shouldn’t be thinking about that stuff when he had to go play nice with Beau and the Sutherland people at the country club. But pulling into the parking lot, the very one he’d been at Friday night with Callie, only made his stomach ache even worse.
Somehow he managed to keep a smile on his face and greet Beau, Aaron, and Jed with appropriate words. Focusing on hitting the ball and some business discussion took his mind off Callie. At least for a while.
“We pride ourselves on finding unique, innovative, and cost-effective solutions to our clients’ requirements,” Beau told Aaron. “One of our biggest advantages is that we give our employees an exceptional toolbox for professional success—technology, training, and resources.”
“That’s true,” Cash added. “You probably heard that we were awarded the Engineering Excellence Gold Medal in Industrial and Manufacturing Facilities by the American Council of Engineering Companies of Texas for our fractionation project.”
“I did hear that,” Aaron said. “Congratulations. That’s impressive.”
Around the ninth hole, Cash looked over at Beau putting, completely oblivious to what had happened between him and Callie. Apparently Beau had never felt this intense, gnawing guilt, even when he’d cheated on his wife. In Beau’s mind, he’d done nothing wrong.
So Cash tried to talk himself into that mindset. He really had done nothing wrong. Callie and Beau were divorced. That meant they each could fuck whoever they wanted.
That line of thought was all a complete waste of time when he and Beau ended up in one of the golf carts together, heading back to the clubhouse at the end of the afternoon, and Beau said, “I heard Callie’s friends threw her a divorce party.”
Cash’s insides seized up. “Yeah.”
“That’s bullshit.”
He bit the inside of his mouth. “Well, you are divorced.”
“Fuck. You go to the party?”
“Kristy invited me. I was only there for a few minutes.” How much should he say? Beau could easily know what had happened. “Callie was a little drunk by the time I got there so I drove her home.”
“You never told me that.”
Cash shrugged and steered the cart around a curve. “She was embarrassed. And it was no big deal.”
“I can’t believe she was celebrating our divorce.” Beau’s jaw hardened. “I can’t believe she won’t talk to me, either.”
“What do you want to talk about?”
Beau sighed. “Her parents aren’t happy with the divorce. I’m not happy with the divorce. I still don’t get it.”
Oh fuck. He was not trying to say he wanted to get back together with her, was he? Fuck me sideways with a chainsaw.
Cash gritted his teeth. “You cheated on her, remember?”
Yeah, they’d had this discussion before. Only then, he hadn’t had a guilty conscience that made every muscle in his body tense to the point of pain.
“Yeah, I remember.”
Cash pulled up and stopped the cart, ready for one of the club’s attendants to take it. He had no idea what to say or where Beau was going with this, but what he did know was he didn’t want to talk about Callie. Not to Beau.
“Our divorce sure as hell better not have any impact on our getting this project,” Beau added. “We can’t afford to lose this job.”
Cash tensed. Was that what Beau was worried about? Losing the job because he wasn’t part of the Sutherland family anymore? Shit. That was fucked up.
“Aaron and Jed don’t seem to hold any ill will because of the divorce.”
“Yeah, the Sutherlands still like me.” Beau’s cocky grin held a hint of worry. “And I keep in touch with Joshua.”
Cash nodded.
“I won’t let my relationship with her family die,” Beau continued confidently. “They’re too important to let go of.”
His gut turned to stone. “True.”
“Come on, let’s go buy Aaron and Jed some drinks and see if we can seal this deal.”
He followed Beau into the clubhouse.
…
What the hell had she been thinking?
Callie spent the rest of Saturday figuratively kicking her own ass for seducing Cash.
Scorching mortification swept over her as she lay in bed that night, eyes closed, remembering how she’d come on to him so strongly. That was so not like her.
And yet…her body still tingled and ached. She sucked briefly on her bottom lip, pressing a hand to her lower belly. What was happening?
Cash had blamed it on endorphins. And there was no doubt she’d been feeling funny after the tattoo. But it was more than just hormones…it was Cash.
She kept noticing things about him that she never had before. Or if she had, it had been in a different way. She’d always known objectively that he was good-looking, but now…every time she was around him, he made her knees go soft. Her sex clench. Her body quiver with awareness.
And then he’d bolted.
God.
She squeezed her eyes closed tighter. How humiliating. He’d been so appalled and guilt ridden, he couldn’t get away fast enough.
She shouldn’t have done that. She didn’t want to lose Cash’s friendship, and she sure didn’t want to jeopardize his relationship with Beau. She’d just have to ignore that tug of attraction, that weak-kneed, belly-heating pull she felt any time she saw him. Which she probably wouldn’t, after what had happened. He’d no doubt be staying far away from her, and…she couldn’t blame him.
…
When Callie logged on to Facebook Sunday morning, she was surprised to see a private message from one of her UT sorority sisters, Melanie Walden, who she hadn’t seen for quite a while.
Callie! I saw the picture of the cake you made! I need to talk to you ASAP!
Huh? Callie made a face and typed in a response.
Hi, Melanie. What’s up? Call me.
She added her phone number.
Her photos of her macarons and cookies and cakes had
been getting lots of attention on Instagram and Facebook, which was cool. Today she was going to take more pics, but she was going to do it right, with appropriate lighting and background. She’d taken some photography classes in college, so she had a few basic skills.
She’d been baking way too much lately, she knew that, but it helped soothe her. Maybe it was an escape, but she loved it, and creating something, something beautiful even, gave her a feeling of accomplishment that had been lacking in her life for so long.
That feeling had never come from putting together an outfit for Lydia Carmichael, or picking the perfect scarf to accessorize Carolina Ainsworth’s new suit. Or from being the perfect hostess when she and Beau entertained clients. She wasn’t even sure if she could articulate why this was different, but it was.
Her cell phone chirped with an incoming call, and she picked it up. No caller was identified, but she tapped the screen and answered. “Hello.”
“Callie?”
“Yes.”
“It’s Melanie. Melanie Walden.”
“Hi, Melanie. How are you?”
They made some polite small talk, even though Callie was curious about why Melanie was calling and she sensed Melanie’s impatience, too. Finally Melanie got to the point.
“I’m getting married next weekend. You may have heard.”
Callie searched back through her memory. “Yes, I did see that on Facebook.” The engagement had happened when she was in Paris. “Congratulations to you and Boone.”
“Thank you!” Melanie paused. “We have a tiny little problem. The person who was doing our wedding cake had an unfortunate accident.”
“Oh dear.” Callie touched her fingertips to her lips.
“Yes! The poor thing got hit by a radio-controlled helicopter.”
Callie’s head moved from side to side. Uh, what? She wasn’t sure how to respond to that.
“Anyhoo, that’s our problem. We have no one to make our cake, and the wedding is only a week away!”
“Oh.” Callie paused. “Oh. You want me to make a cake for you?”
“Yes!” Melanie’s voice went higher-pitched and breathy. “We’d be forever grateful to you. And your cakes are so pretty. Would you do that?”
“Um. Sure. I could do that.” She had nothing more important, and a whole week was long enough to do some fancy stuff. “You need it for Saturday, I assume?”
“Yes! We’re getting married at the Houston Club.”
“Did you have something particular in mind? You probably already had this planned with your cake baker.”
“We did. I can send you the pictures I’ve saved so you can get an idea of what we wanted. Our colors are eggplant, baby blue, and gold. The bridesmaids are wearing blue dresses, and we’re carrying bouquets of ranunculus, tweedia, and astrantia.”
Holy shmoly, she didn’t even know what all those were. “Do you have pictures of the flowers?”
“Yes. I mean, not exactly what the bouquets will be, but I can show you…wait, you can just go to my wedding Pinterest board and check it out. Everything is there. Even pictures of some cakes I like.”
“Oh, great idea.”
“I’ll send you the link.”
“Okay. What kind of cake do you want? As in vanilla, chocolate, strawberry…”
“Vanilla. Everyone likes vanilla.”
“Okay.” Easy. Callie squirmed with excitement. This was a challenge, but a fun one. “Let me have a look at the pictures.”
“How much do you charge?”
Callie blanked. She had no clue how much to charge. “How much was your other baker charging you?”
“Fifteen hundred dollars.”
Callie’s jaw dropped. Jumping Jesus. Could she really charge that much for her cakes? “I can do it for that,” she said casually.
“Great! Thank you so much, Callie, you’re really saving us. I didn’t want to end up with some crappy grocery store cake or something.”
Callie laughed. “No, no, we wouldn’t want that.”
They finalized a few more details and then ended the call. Moments later Callie’s Facebook bleeped with another private message. The link to Melanie’s Pinterest board.
A few clicks later, she was studying the images. Melanie apparently had very specific ideas of what she liked, but this was helpful. Callie scrutinized the flowers. She could do that. Bah. She could do better than that. It was going to be a lot of work, but she was bouncing to get started.
She sucked air into her lungs and let it out slowly, slumping into her chair. She’d learned that starting a business online was a cheaper way to get going—she wouldn’t have the overhead cost of a lot of equipment or leasing space, plus she could start immediately while she found a place and got it ready. Maybe she could start with this and build up to having her own little shop if all went well.
And now she had her first customer.
Wow. Maybe she could really do this.
Chapter Eight
Or maybe she was crazy.
Callie was in her kitchen working on flowers for the wedding cake on Monday afternoon. For some reason, she really wanted to talk to Cash about her idea of starting her own business. He never laughed at her or made her feel inferior, even though he liked to tease her. But after what had happened on Saturday, she was not going to call him. Definitely not.
She’d relived that hot encounter in her kitchen repeatedly, and every time she thought about it, she got wet all over again. Jumping June bugs, Cash was amazing. He was gorgeous and sexy and funny and…and she’d put him in a terrible position.
Seeing how upset he was afterward made her regret what she’d done. Beau had been the last person she’d been thinking of at that moment, but she understood Cash’s dilemma. How would she feel if Beau started messing around with Kristy?
Yuck. She would hate that. Mostly for Kristy’s sake, because she deserved better. But it would be totally awkward, no doubt about it. It could even ruin their friendship…
Oh God. Callie paused with her paintbrush poised above some sugar flower petals that she was carefully shading the edges of.
Okay. It would be okay. She and Cash had had sex. Crazy, fast, impulsive sex. That was all it was, and it would never happen again. They were friends.
Or maybe not anymore. Kind of hard to go back after that.
Sadness hollowed out her chest. She liked Cash. A lot. He’d been there for her since she and Beau had split, quietly supporting her and letting her know that even though her marriage was over, they could still be friends. And she’d totally messed that up.
She painstakingly rolled out more gum paste into a thin layer. She’d gotten the eggplant color perfected after numerous trials and errors and was preparing to build what would hopefully be the finished flowers for the wedding cake.
Yes, she needed to talk to someone, but if it couldn’t be Cash, then it would be Kristy. She paused to pick up her cell phone and called her friend. “Hey, it’s me.”
“Hi, Cal. What’s up?”
“I might be about to do something crazy.”
“Oooh, I like it already!”
“Want to meet for dinner tonight?”
“Hell yeah. Where should we go?”
“How about the Wild Turkey?”
“You bet! Meet you there at six.”
Callie worked the rest of the afternoon on her flowers, then cleaned up and changed from yoga pants and a T-shirt stained with food coloring into a pair of jeans and a tank top. A short time later, she cruised slowly through the parking lot at the Wild Turkey, one of the last classic icehouses left in the area, searching for an open spot. The lot was full of pickup trucks that reminded her of Cash. She squeezed her Beamer in between two Fords and jumped out. The low building needed a new paint job, and she already knew the inside did, too. At this hour, the neon sign glowed faintly.
Inside, she squinted into the darkness after the bright sunlight, pausing until her eyes adjusted, listening to Frankie Ballard singing “Young
and Crazy.” Most of the tables appeared to be full, but many of them were long picnic-table style so she made her way to one that was only half full.
“Okay if I sit here?” she asked.
“Damn straight.” One of the men tipped his hat.
“Hello, beautiful,” another said. “You here alone?”
Callie smiled. “I’m meeting my girlfriend.”
“You are prettier than a beer truck pulling into my driveway.”
She laughed. These guys didn’t bother her. They might be giving her the eye, and they’d probably flirt like crazy, but she felt safe in this place. And if she’d learned nothing else over the last year, she now knew she could take care of herself.
Unless she was high on endorphins. Then she apparently became a sex fiend. And that was just a tiny tattoo. What would happen if she got a bigger one? Whoa.
She spread her hand flat on the wooden table and inspected her tattoo. She’d been taking care of it as instructed, and it looked awesome. The redness had gone away, and the fine black swirls curved gracefully over her finger, looking exactly as she’d hoped. Strength out of adversity.
“What can I getcha, hon?” The waitress appeared with a round tray propped on her hip.
“Shiner Bock, please.”
“You bet.”
Mama would die if she saw her here. A grin spread over Callie’s face.
She pulled out her phone to busy herself while she waited for Kristy. Her cake photos were getting a lot more likes on Instagram. She scrolled through some other images, then switched to Facebook.
“I’m here!”
Callie lifted her head and saw Kristy coming toward her. She jumped up to hug her friend. “Hi!”
Kristy dropped onto the bench on the other side of the table and clunked her purse down. “I need a beer.” She lifted a hand and caught the waitress’s attention, pointed at Callie’s beer, then beamed a smile and a thumbs-up.
“Look.” Callie slapped her hand on the table in front of Kristy.
Kristy peered down, then her eyes shot open, and her lips parted. “Holy shit!” She grabbed Callie’s hand, then dropped it. “Sorry! Does it hurt?”
Screwed Page 8
