Pony Up (Caldwell Brothers Book 4)

by Colleen Charles

  I force a smile. “Oh, yeah. I’m fine.” I glance over my shoulder. Kristin and the others are busy working away on various dishes, and they’re not paying attention to me. “Can I borrow you for a minute?”

  “Honey, you can borrow me all night long, but you might have a few angry men chasing you down the strip,” Basil says, batting his lashes.

  “It won’t take that long.” I crook my finger at him. “Come over here.”

  I lead Basil out of the kitchen and into the narrow corridor by the offices. Ducking inside, I pull him behind me and close the door.

  “This is all so clandestine.” He looks around with wide eyes. “Should I be wearing a deerstalker?”

  “No,” I say, shaking my head and laughing at the mental image of Basil in one of those Sherlock Holmes hats. “This will just take a minute.”

  Basil narrows his eyes. He’s so intuitive that I can tell he knows something is wrong. But before he has the chance to speak again, I blurt it out. “I’m leaving Sakana.”

  Basil’s jaw drops, and his eyes get big. He stares at me for a long time before bursting into laughter.

  “Oh my god, girlfriend, that was a good one,” Basil crows, throwing his head back and laughing even louder. “You’ve got my attention. What is it really?”

  “I’m leaving Sakana,” I repeat. Without revealing too much personal information about Carter’s family, I tell Basil all about Dante. By the time I’m done, Basil looks ashen and ten years older.

  “Oh, my god.” His fingers tap at his lips. “I can’t believe it. I think I need to leave with you.”

  “Believe it, but you can’t leave with me. You might get promoted to head chef. It’s the opportunity of a lifetime for you.”

  “Goody for me, working for a cartoon villain,” Basil replies sarcastically. “What happens when the bubble of maniacal dialogue appears over his greasy head? Wait…don’t even answer that. So, what are you going to do?”

  “I’m going to concentrate on that Food Network show – I’ve got to win.”

  “And if you don’t?”

  “Then I start shopping around for high-end restaurants,” I say with a shrug. “I mean, there’s not much to do, is there? I have no doubt my career will go on. And so will I.”

  Basil pulls me into a hug, and I welcome his warmth and support. “You bet you will.”

  At the end of my shift, I’m feeling more confident. After throwing my black jacket into the laundry, I check my hair and walk on to the casino floor. Dante’s offices are located on the executive level, and my heart thuds as I punch the up button to call for the elevator. After a short, but tense ride, his secretary buzzes him to announce me and waves me in the direction of his office.

  “Dante?” I call, knocking a few times.

  “Come on in.”

  Pushing open the door, I plaster a smile on my face. Dante’s bulky frame sits behind his desk. There’s a snifter of cognac in one hand and a fat cigar in the other. The smoke hangs thick in the tense air. When he sees me, an expression of surprise lights his features. I can’t believe I once thought he was handsome.

  Never again.

  “Guess that show didn’t work out for you, after all,” Dante says. “What with the knife throwing and all that. Well, you know I’m happy to have you back here. Welcome home.”

  I smile before sitting down in a chair opposite his desk. “Actually,” I say with false brightness. “The show is going really well. That’s why I’m here.”

  “Oh yeah?” He sips his cognac, looking over the rim with narrowed eyes. “Well, good for you, Pepper. Now, is this important? I have a lot of work to do tonight.”

  “This won’t take long,” I say, steeling myself for the explosion. “Don’t worry about that at all.”

  Dante sets down his glass and shoves his paperwork to the side of his massive desk. “What is it, then?”

  “I’m leaving Sakana.”

  “What?” The cigar in Dante’s hand trembles, but he doesn’t drop it.

  “I said, I’m leaving.” I get to my feet and wipe my hands on my thighs. As nervous as I am, my excitement and tremendous relief over my decision wins out in the end. “My contract has a Michelin star provision. If I receive a better offer, I can leave without penalty. I’m exercising my option.”

  “Is it the money? How much do you make? Wait, don’t answer that – whatever it is, I’ll pay you double. How about that?” Dante grins at me. “I know a girl like you would have to love that kind of money.”

  Girl like me?

  “It’s not about the money,” I say, seeing him for what and who he is.

  “Sweetheart, let me give you a piece of advice – it’s always about the money.” Dante smirks, delighting in his wisdom.

  “This time it’s not,” I argue. “And anyway, even if that were true, I can’t keep taking money from you.”

  Dante’s smirk fades, and he narrows his eyes, taking a long puff on his cigar. A ring of smoke flitters into the already stale air. His disgusting habit makes me hate him even more. Sending carcinogens into the air I breathe.

  “I know what you did to Carter Caldwell,” I say. “And I know what you’ve done to his entire family…and trust me, I don’t approve.”

  Dante glares daggers at me. “Pepper, they’re our rivals. Of course, I’ll do whatever it takes to make sure my casino – and my restaurant – make the most money, the biggest splash. To stay alive in Vegas, you’ve gotta be huge. Huge!”

  He throws his arms into a wide arc along with the force of his words. I watch the live ash at the end of his cigar sail through the air and land on the plush carpet, sizzling to a dramatic end.

  “Well, that’s too bad,” I say. “I’m sure you’ll be able to find a replacement in no time. If I may suggest, Basil would make an excellent head chef.”

  Dante sniffs. “You’re making a really big mistake.” In direct contrast to his words, he smiles again. It’s not like the smile before – it’s cold and malicious. His teeth gleam in the dim light of his office. “Say, what are you going to do when you can’t find a job? Are you going to come crawling back to me? Because I won’t allow that – this is your last chance. Either you change your mind right now, or I’ll make sure you never find work in this town again.”

  Dante’s words chill the marrow in my bones since I now know what he’s capable of, but I’m determined not to let them knock me off my path.

  “That’s a chance I’m willing to take,” I say before turning around and leaving his office. At the door, I face him again. “Oh, and say hello to your nephew Angelo for me.”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Carter

  When I arrive in Vegas, I’m exhausted. I call Claude to make sure that nothing’s literally on fire and go straight to my condo where I crash face down in bed. Alone. I know if Pepper were here beside me, I’d sleep. I don’t even feel that physically tired, just mentally exhausted, and after only a few seconds my lids close like iron doors.

  By the time I wake up, the moon hangs high in the sky. My mouth tastes like an old shoe, and I hobble into the bathroom and gargle with water until the dryness fades. Glancing at myself in the mirror, I barely recognize Carter Caldwell. Dark circles smudge under my eyes, and my hair looks like Ryan Seacrest on crack. Rolling my eyes, I turn on the shower and stand under the hot water, soaping my body until I manage to wash the stale airplane funk off my skin.

  I feel refreshed after my shower, so I pull on a pair of pajama pants and lope into the kitchen. The fridge looks good – there’s some leftover cold ribeye and bleu cheese – and I set to work whipping up a bleu cheese sauce on the stove. As much as I enjoy cooking for other people, I’ve always loved cooking for myself even more. I always thought that when I got a serious girlfriend, I’d love cooking for her too.

  But what am I supposed to cook for Pepper, who doesn’t even like meat? My specialty? And I know I’m getting ahead of myself. She’s clearly not my girlfriend.

  But I w
ant her to be.

  I slice the perfectly-rare ribeye into tender bites and plate everything. Carrying my late-night snack into the living room, I plop down on the couch and turn on the television.

  Before I can find something decent to watch, my phone buzzes beside me. When I see Pepper’s name scrolling across the screen, I grin, and my heart kicks up a notch. Damn. No other woman has ever had this effect on me.

  “Hello?”

  “Hey.” She sounds subdued and quiet. Not herself. “You get back in one piece?”

  I smile. “No, the airline lost my legs along with my luggage.”

  “I feel exhausted too.” She clears her throat. “You doing anything?”

  I glance down at the cooling steak. “No.” I spear a bite on the end of my fork and dip it in the bleu cheese. “Why?”

  “Can I come over?”

  Do birds fly, do bees buzz, do…

  “Sure. If you hurry up, you might even catch me before I finish eating this steak.”

  Pepper groans. Her faux-irritation makes me grin. “Yeah, yeah,” she mutters. “You’re always gnawing on some meat. I’ll be over soon.”

  When we hang up, I wolf down the rest of my steak and brush my teeth. I pick out a nice bottle of wine and pour myself a glass, chilling the rest for when Pepper arrives. It seems to take no time at all. When I hear her ring the bell, it feels like we just got off the phone.

  My damn hands are sweating by the time I open the door. To hide my nervousness, I bow in an exaggerated fashion. “Welcome. May I interest you in a glass of wine? Champagne and strawberries?”

  “Oh, god, yeah, definitely,” Pepper says, pursing those lush lips. Dammit, all I want to do is take her in my arms and suck that fuller bottom one into my mouth. She yawns and rubs her eyes with both fists. “I’m really exhausted.” Is that a warning to keep my hands to myself? “I feel like flying back and forth is wreaking havoc on my sleep schedule. I’m used to staying up late, but good grief.”

  “Wine usually helps with that.” I guide Pepper into the living room and hand her a glass of sauvignon blanc. She looks great, even though she’s only wearing jeans and a flowy top. Pepper takes the wine and drinks, closing her eyes and moaning. Watching her face relax looks almost sexual, and my cock twitches inside of my loose pants.

  “So,” I say, sitting down on the couch and taking a drink of wine. “What’s up?”

  Pepper swallows and pauses. “I asked Dante to release me from my contract.”

  “What?” My jaw drops. “You’re kidding. You work fast.”

  “No, I meant what I said – that I didn’t want to be associated with Dante anymore.”

  “Part of me…you know what, never mind.”

  Pepper frowns and takes a long sip of wine. “No, what? Tell me.”

  “I thought he might try to blackmail you into staying,” I admit. “He’s not exactly known for ethical practices. Sic his cotillion of shady lawyers on you and all that.”

  “Yeah.” She rubs the back of her neck. “You know, I had the same thought. He hasn’t done it yet, but that doesn’t mean I won’t get a phone call tomorrow after he’s had a chance to strategize. You know, he actually offered to double my salary.”

  I whistle. “Damn, girl. I bet that’s a lot of money.”

  Pepper narrows her eyes and laughs. “Now you sound like Cody,” she says, shaking her head. “How is he, by the way?”

  “We haven’t talked much since the release, but I think he’s doing well.” I’m not about to tell Pepper this, but I have a feeling Cody’s planning to be at the next Food Network competition, to support his sister.

  With his rope.

  “Good.” She looks serious for a moment. “Sometimes I worry about him.”

  “What? Why?” I finish the last of my wine and pour myself another glass. Cody’s the last person anyone needs to worry about. Pepper holds her own glass out, and I fill it nearly to the top.

  “You’re trying to get me drunk,” Pepper says, raising an eyebrow. “Well, it might just work. I’m exhausted and jet-lagged. I’m an easy mark.”

  “And very easily distracted.” I turn to her more fully. “Why are you worried about Cody?”

  “Oh, I’m not, really. At least, not right now.” Pepper takes a long swallow and leans against the plush cushions of my couch. “But you know – he’s wild. I always used to worry that he’d take some stupid dare and wind up dead. Or be gutted by an angry bull.”

  “Yeah, he seems like the type who courts danger.”

  “You have no idea.” She sighs. “When we were in high school, someone dared Cody to break into a bull auction and ride one of the bulls out to the auction block.” She groans at the memory, putting a hand to her forehead. “He actually did it too. The only reason he wasn’t arrested was because the auctioneer was a good friend of our dad’s.”

  “Holy shit.” I burst into laughter at the mental image. “I can’t imagine that. It’s crazy.”

  “No shit.” She takes a long swallow of wine, and I admire the graceful line of her throat. “I think he’s okay now, though. I mean, your sauce line seems to be doing well right out of the gate. Maybe he’ll settle down. I think as long as he gets a bit of fame and fortune, he won’t always be putting himself in danger.”

  I try to imagine them as children. “I bet he was a really protective brother.”

  Pepper wrinkles her nose. “He spent most of his time with our dad. They were always working together on the farm, bragging about the size of our beef cattle. It seems like another lifetime ago.”

  “Yeah.” I can’t keep the smirk off my face. “I bet Raelynn didn’t dare associate with such cowboys.”

  For a moment, I think Pepper’s going to get angry and storm out. But to my surprise – and delight – she laughs. Maybe she can take a joke after all.

  “Yeah,” she says, shaking her head. “Raelynn was kind of a snot. It wasn’t her fault, though. She just had a weak stomach.” Pepper bites her lip and takes another sip of wine before setting her glass down on the coffee table. “I mean, you’d understand if you’d seen the kind of shit that I saw growing up.”

  “I’ve never actually been to a farm, or a slaughterhouse. I did go to this restaurant once – it was next to an organic pasture – and you could pick the chicken you wanted to eat.”

  Pepper’s jaw drops. “That’s horrible!”

  “The food was delicious, but I guess now that I think about it, it’s kind of morbid, isn’t it?”

  “Kind of morbid?” Pepper snorts and shakes her head. “Yeah, Carter, I’d say that’s about the bleakest thing I’ve heard.”

  “So, what was it like?”

  “What, growing up with Cody?”

  “No, growing up on a working farm. I’m curious.”

  “It wasn’t fun.” She chews her bottom lip, frowning at the memories. “The cows were so cute – especially when they were babies.”

  I’m tempted to make a comment about how delicious veal is, but I bite my tongue. “I bet.”

  “Yeah, I always loved the little calves.” Pepper’s voice is tinged with nostalgia. Then the dreamy look disappears, and she makes a face. “But I hated how they were treated. We separated them from their mothers much too early – the screams they would make!”

  She shudders. All I want to do is wrap her in my arms and make her painful memories disappear. As much as I don’t like admitting it, the image disturbs me. Makes me think of what I value in a different way than I ever have before.

  “And don’t even get me started on when we slaughtered them.” She shudders again and closes her eyes. “I still have nightmares about it. They tell you that the animal doesn’t feel anything, that the bolt goes right through…but I know that’s not true. I was there. I saw it.”

  “I’m sorry, Pepper. Sorry you had to witness that. Growing up can be brutal.”

  She gives me a sad look. “It was brutal for you too.”

  I lift a shoulder. “I didn’t spend a t
on of time with my parents growing up. My mom died so young, and then my younger brother has special needs. So, my dad was usually occupied with him. Lincoln had a special school and a ton of extracurricular activities. When my brothers and I learned to drive, he was so relieved because it finally meant that we could help out.”

  Pepper nods. “Yeah, I can see that. Dad was always unhappy that I didn’t want to spend more time helping out around the farm. I told him a couple of times that it really bothered me, but he said I’d get over it. I think he was secretly disappointed that he had me instead of another son.”

  I raise an eyebrow. “I can’t imagine that. I’m sure he is really proud of you, just maybe not very demonstrative about it.”

  “I don’t know. Whenever I cooked for him and my mom, he wasn’t very happy about it. I think he was relieved when I moved away to Vegas.”

  “That really sucks,” I say, reaching out and putting a hand on her shoulder. “I wasn’t very close to my dad, either, but we did have one thing that we’d always do together.”

  “Oh yeah?”

  I smile at the memory. “Yeah. Dad and I both loved to grill. He was the one who first taught me how to make the perfect steak. We bonded over that. It all seems like so long ago now, but I loved those moments.”

  After her story about the horrors of the beef farm, part of me expects Pepper to sneer. But instead, she gives me a faint smile.

  “That sounds nice. I never got to cook with my dad. He didn’t do much cooking in the first place. Mom did most of it, and then when I was in junior high, I started eating vegetarian and cooking my own meals. I actually had to get a part-time job and buy a small fridge for myself with a lock, because Cody kept trying to sneak bacon into my food.”

  I laugh. “Ouch.”

  “He was trying to be funny, I get it.” She smiles but it fades quickly. “Everyone just wanted me to lighten up. The more they pushed and poked, the harder I dug in my heels. But Cody just came across as so rude back then. I used to get so mad at him – I’d yell until I was red in the face. And then he’d just laugh.”