It was impossible for me to pretend otherwise, so Marisol was scrambling to smooth over the scowl on my face.
Brian Lewis owned one of the factories that produced Andes’ patented filler. He’d been with me since the beginning when I’d been nothing more than a rich kid with a lot of ideas. There was a time I’d trusted him implicitly.
But as Andes had grown, so had his business. Where we had once been a priority, we were now being pushed to the side.
Which was not acceptable.
“Excuse me.” Marisol stopped speaking, and everyone turned to me. “Did we not discuss this on the phone last week, Brian?”
Brian was ten years older than me, red-faced and round-bellied. He had peaked in high school but wasn’t self-aware enough to recognize no one was impressed by his piddling claim to fame for scoring the most touchdowns in a single game.
I could have ignored all that, and had for years, but his excuses were making me despise everything about him. He was lucky I’d walked into the factory in a good mood.
“Now, Weston, I explained we’re in the process of hiring more staff. In the next month, we’ll be doubling our third shift and—”
I held up a hand. “When you signed contracts with us, there were no contingencies for your staffing shortages. It isn’t any of my business that you’ve overextended yourself. That’s not something I need to know, and to be perfectly honest, not something you should be spreading around. It doesn’t make you look good.”
He guffawed, his gaze bouncing around my colleagues when his sole focus should have been on me. They couldn’t help him. He’d landed himself here, he had to figure his way out. It wasn’t going to be with lame excuses or explanations. Action was the only acceptable solution to me.
Maybe I should have cut ties with this man years ago. He’d gotten comfortable with me, and I him, but it wasn’t like me to bring personal relationships into my business. I supposed nostalgia was to blame. Brian had taken a chance on an upstart business, and that meant something.
“Look, Weston, it’s all under control. We’re only slightly delayed in production, which I understand isn’t acceptable to you, but I can offer a discount on this next shipment to make up for it.”
I stared at him, my patience paper thin. I didn’t like being spoken to like I was being handled. I wasn’t a tantruming toddler.
“Of course we understand,” Marisol soothed. “Let’s get that discount written down, though. Verbal promises are only as good as the legal contracts they’re repeated on.”
Everyone chuckled but me. There was nothing amusing about one of my managers speaking for me, especially when she wasn’t even close to correct.
“We actually don’t understand.” I nodded to Marisol, Jeff, and Dev. “You can go. Brian and I need to have a private conversation.”
“Go?” Marisol repeated.
“Go. You’re no longer needed.” Swiveling on my toe, I strode into Brian’s office, not doubting for a second he would soon follow.
While I waited, I took out my phone, texting Elise.
Me: Where are you?
Elise: Hello to you. I’m outside on a picnic bench with Elias and Cameron. They’re telling me about their rock climbing weekends. Where are you?
Me: Hell. Be ready to leave within a half hour.
Elise: I might not be finished by then.
Me: Be ready in half an hour, Elise.
Elise: Please.
Me: What?
Elise: Weston, you might be my boss, but if you also want to be the guy who puts his dick in me tonight, say please.
Me: I swear to god, if the men you’re with see you talking about getting dicked down, I will spank your ass until you can’t sit on it.
Elise: Only if you want to be spanked in return.
Me: Why did I think texting you would calm me down?
Elise: Awww, you did? That’s kind of sweet. And just so you know, I walked away from the table to talk to you so no one is seeing the filthy things I’m saying about your beautiful dick.
Me: Thank you.
Me: Please be ready in a half hour.
Elise: You’re welcome. And I’ll see what I can do. xx.
A half hour later, I walked outside, intent on finding Elise so I could blow out of this place and get her back to my hotel room. Instead, I found Marisol waiting for me.
“What was that about?” she asked.
Marisol didn’t get angry as a general rule. She expected life to go her way, and when it didn’t, she became genuinely confused.
Despite our breakup and mutual flaws, I still liked her and respected her professionally. She wouldn’t have her position if I didn’t.
And until recently, a trip like this would always end in us sleeping together.
I had absolutely no desire to go there with her anymore.
Exhaling, I pinched the bridge of my nose. My meeting with Brian had only served to drive a spike through my skull. After our contract ran out, I would have my production teams search for a supplier to replace him. Our history wasn’t enough to save our business relationship.
“You know I hate when anyone speaks for me.” I dropped my hand and tucked it in my pocket. “Did you wait around for me to tell you that?”
Her red lips curled into a smirk. “That, and to allow you to ask me to dinner.”
I frowned, scanning the parking lot. “Did you send Dev and Jeff away?”
She stepped closer, her hand sliding up my chest. “Of course. It would have been impolite to ask them to wait when I’ll be riding with you.”
“I have Elise with me. I had no intention of giving you a ride.”
Her tongue touched her top lip. “Oh, her. I completely forgot about her.” She waved the thought of Elise off. “That’s fine. I don’t mind if she’s in the car.”
My frown deepened, as did the ache in my head. “What did you expect me to do if you minded? Leave her here to fend for herself?”
Marisol huffed a little laugh. “I saw her flirting with the factory boys. I’m sure one of them would be more than happy to give her a ride.”
A furious laugh shot out of me. “You have to be joking, Marisol. Tell me you’re joking. Do you have any idea who Elise is to me? Do you remember anything I ever said to you?”
Instead of waiting for an answer I really didn’t care to hear, I strode toward the side of the building, which I knew from memory was the location of the picnic tables. Before I could reach the corner, Elise and two men came around it. She was laughing at something one of them said, her cheeks a deep pink.
My mood had already been black, but seeing her with two men crowded around her, interested in her, sent me into a cold fury.
“Elise,” I barked.
She stopped walking, her eyes flaring wide as she finally noticed me.
“It’s time to go.” When she didn’t move right away, I swore I went blind for a second. The spike in my head dug deeper, and frustration dragged me under. “Right now.”
My tone was sharp and commanding. Too harsh for Elise, but I felt driven to it. She knew from our texts I was frustrated, yet she was dragging her feet, not coming to me when I needed her to.
Finally, she said something soft to the two men before starting toward me. I only exhaled when she was by my side. Her anger was palpable, but she kept her lips pressed together and her professional face on, even when Marisol joined us on our walk through the parking lot.
I wasn’t able to hide my feelings, nor was I willing to play polite when Marisol had the gall to cut off Elise so she could reach the passenger door first.
“Elise is in the front with me,” I intoned. “If you want me to drive you back to your car, climb in the back.”
Marisol spun away from the door, her lips popping open. “Weston?”
I opened the back door for her. “If you’d asked first, I would have told you the only seat I had available was the back one.”
She stared at me for a long beat, her deep-brown eyes sweeping over me as if trying to read how serious I was. Elise was behind me, but I had to take care of this problem before I gave her my attention.
Marisol flipped her black waves behind her shoulder and marched forward to duck into the second-row captain’s chair. She folded her arms across her chest and stared straight ahead as though she’d never been so wronged in her life.
I closed the door on her and reached for Elise. “Come on.”
“She could have taken the front seat.”
I huffed a long breath. “Don’t give me shit right now. She wasn’t invited into my car, you were. You don’t sit in the back seat.”
She stuck her lip out, and it was all I could do not to bite it. “You’re very annoying and grumpy.”
“I’ve had an extremely frustrating few hours. Please don’t add to it.”
Her pout instantly morphed into concern. “What’s up? Is there anything I can do?”
“No.” I brushed my hand over her arm. “Nothing other than sticking with me on this trip even when I’m acting like your grumpy boss.”
Her eyes danced with amusement. “I’m used to that, so I can do that.”
The ride back to the hotel should have taken two hours. Instead, it lasted a hundred years. Elise tried to engage Marisol in conversation, but she didn’t bite. Instead, she brought up vacations she and I had taken, restaurants we’d dined in, made blunt insinuations about what we normally got up to on my trips to California.
I caught Elise giggling softly, trying to cover it up with her hand. That was the only reason I didn’t burst into flames and lose my shit on Marisol. Elise wasn’t bothered, so I contained myself and turned up the music, putting an end to further inane chatter.
Marisol was conveniently parked near the hotel. I dropped her at her car, telling her I’d see her in the morning, and drove away, sighing with relief.
“We’re going to dinner,” I told Elise.
“Are we? I’m pretty tired.”
I sent a glare her way. “Shut up.”
She laughed softly. “Not likely.”
I reached across the car, sliding my fingers into my new favorite place at the crease of her thigh.
“Thank Christ for that.”
Once we ordered, Elise relaxed into the back cushion of her bench, glancing around the diner. A small, soft smile lifted the corners of her mouth.
“What?” I groused.
Her gaze shot to mine. “Are you grumping at me already?”
“No.” I raked my fingers through my hair. “Yes. I don’t like not knowing why you’re smiling.”
That made her laugh. “If you must know, I was thinking this place isn’t very like you.”
I leaned forward, clasping my hands on the table. “You don’t like it?”
I’d brought her to the diner I’d invited her to last night. It wasn’t anything special to look at, but the food was more than decent, and it was the kind of place no one would bother us.
“No, I do. I’m surprised you do, is all.” She cupped her mouth to whisper to me. “I don’t think they have any Michelin stars, West.”
West.
Heat surged through my veins. She only called me West when I was fucking her. Hearing it outside the bedroom ignited a Pavlovian response. It took me a few seconds to convince my body now wasn’t the time or place to bend her over and slide into her.
“You don’t think much of me, do you?”
A rush of pink heated her cheeks. “That isn’t true. I was kidding. I don’t think you’re a snob, far from it. But you have to admit you’re used to the finer things in life. I see the suits you wear every day. And you live in a penthouse. Don’t pretend you’re just an average Joe.”
“You’re not wrong. I do like luxury and won’t deny it, but that’s not the only thing I can appreciate. If it were, I would have missed out on a lot. I would have walked right by this diner without coming in and that would have been a shame. This place makes one of the best huevos rancheros I’ve ever had.”
“You’ll have to give me a taste.”
“I will give you anything you want, Elise.”
Her teeth dug into the corner of her bottom lip, and the pink in her cheeks intensified. She looked younger, sweeter. The blood that had been lodged in my cock flowed directly to my thrumming heart. There had never been a day I hadn’t cared about her. Even when she was living in another state for three years, I kept track of her.
As much as I wanted to fuck her again and again, I would never lose sight of who she had always been to me. The sex would end when we went home, but she was Elliot’s sister, which meant I would protect and care for her always.
Our waitress stopped by with our drinks, and afterward, we both went quiet. I was going over the meetings I had the following day, and Elise took out her phone, most likely reading texts or emails.
A soft laugh burst out of her. Her eyes lifted to mine. I cocked my head in question.
“Nothing.” She shook her head. “My old coworker, Brandon, ran into Patrick at a bar last night.”
“And?”
My stomach tightened at the mention of her ex. One minute in his company, and it had been obvious he hadn’t been worthy of her. If I’d been a betting man, I would have put my money on Elise wising up and leaving him within a year. Since it had taken her four times that, I’d been lucky I wasn’t.
Her gaze flitted to her phone and back to me. “Brandon pretended not to speak English when Patrick asked him if he knew where I was. And Brandon’s boyfriend apparently got in on the act by translating what Brandon was saying.”
“What did he say?”
“Well, Brandon doesn’t actually speak another language, so Cliff had to make everything up. He told Patrick Brandon arrived from Croatia two weeks ago and had grown up in a monastery, never seeing a woman besides his mother.”
I blinked. “What did Patrick say to that?”
She shrugged. “He was angry and confused. I don’t really want to know what he said, which I told Brandon.”
“You’re never going to speak to him?”
“No. There’s nothing for us to say to each other.”
Something in my stomach soured. I couldn’t put a finger on why, though. “Really? You don’t even want to yell at him?”
“I’m not really a yeller, you know. And I don’t think he deserves a chance to try to explain away what he did to me. It might have been immature of me to cut out of there like a ghost in the night, but when I decided to go, it felt like I had to do it immediately or I wouldn’t survive.”
My brow lowered as I watched her. She didn’t like talking about this. This guy was still hurting her, whether she wanted to admit it or not.
“What about what you deserve?”
She tucked her hair behind her ear. “What do you mean?”
“Don’t you deserve closure?”
“Closure isn’t real. There’s no door between pain and happiness. No matter how many conversations I have or don’t have with Patrick, I still have to walk through the way he hurt me. If I deserve anything, it’s to not be hurt by the man I once loved.”
“Once loved? You don’t anymore?”
Her hand wrapped around her glass of iced tea. “When I loved him, it was without vital information. Once I found out who he truly was, that love became null and void. I know that sounds cold, and maybe it is, but it’s how I’m able to cope with life’s bullshit. And you know I’ve had more than my fair share.”
I pushed a long exhale out of my nose. She’d done something similar to me. One day, I was her second brother. The next, I barely existed. Maybe it was the memory of those long, icy years making me so uneasy now.
As much as I despised Patrick, I couldn’t help feeling for him. The arctic side of Elise Levy was an impossible place to be after years of living in her sunshine.
“You have. You and Elliot have been doled more unlucky hands than most people.” Reaching across the table, I took her free hand in mine, rubbing her knuckles with my thumb. “When I inevitably screw up, I ask that you give me a chance to make it right instead of giving me the ghost treatment. Can you promise me that?”
Her nose scrunched, but she curled her fingers into mine. “It depends on how deeply you screw up. If you push me off a cliff, I’m definitely ghosting you. Literally.” She grinned at me, growing more serious when I couldn’t find it in me to smile back. “I don’t want to go back to the years when I avoided you. For our sake, and Elliot’s. I can’t predict my reaction to a hypothetical screwup, but I can promise to try, okay?”
I huffed a dry laugh. “I know that’s all I’m going to get out of you, so I guess it’ll have to be okay.”
Dinner arrived. My huevos rancheros, Elise’s tomato soup and grilled cheese. She was inordinately pleased with her meal, which settled my twisted stomach. I liked seeing her pleased, any way it happened.
I held up a forkful of egg, pico de gallo, and fresh avocado. “Open.”
She leaned forward, parting her lips to accept the bite of my dinner. Her lips closed around my fork while her gaze stayed on mine. Slowly, I slipped the fork out, watching her taste my favorite dish. Pleasure suffused her cheeks with color.
“I’m right, aren’t I?”
She nodded. “Delicious. Thank you for bringing me here.”
“Thanks for sharing it with me.”
She picked up her spoon, pausing before scooping up some soup. “Did Marisol come here with you?”
I scoffed. “Once. She wasn’t impressed.”
“How long were you together?”
I cocked my head. “Is it my turn to expel my relationship details?”
“What’s fair is fair, Westie.”
“Please stop hanging out with Miles.”
“You’ll have to discuss that with him. He’s a little obsessed with me.” She shook her spoon at me. “Don’t try to distract me. How long were you with her?”
“Two years seriously, give or take.”
“How long unseriously?”
She’d picked up on my wording. No surprise there. “A year.”
“So, three years.” She tore off the corner of her sandwich. “That’s a long time. I didn’t know she existed before this trip.”
I raised a brow. “Did you keep up with me while you were in Chicago?”
“Somewhat. Elliot mentioned you from time to time. He never said anything about beautiful Marisol, though.”
I couldn’t fight the smirk tugging at my lips. “That’s because Elliot tried to pretend she didn’t exist. Compartmentalizing is a Levy talent.”
“My brother wasn’t a fan of beautiful Marisol?”
“Don’t call her that unless you want me to refer to you as Stunning Elise.”
She stopped chewing to cover her grin with her hand. “That does have a lovely ring to it.”
It did. And it was fitting.
“No, Elliot didn’t like her. He said if I stayed with her, she would change me in ways that would make him not like me either.”
“My brother, the smooth talker.”
I shook my head. “He’s blunt, but he tells the truth.”
“But you didn’t listen.”
Heaving a deep sigh, I wiped my mouth with my napkin. “It took me some time to come to my senses. She lived in California for the duration of our relationship. It made it easier for me to close my eyes to a lot of the reasons we would have never worked.”
“That makes sense. You had reunion sex over and over. It would be hard to give that up.”
My jaw tensed at her casual reference to me fucking another woman. I didn’t feel so casual when I thought of her with any other man.
“You’re right. It was easier to stay than go. Plus, there was a part of me that wanted to prove Elliot wrong.”
“I bet he took your breakup well.” She pressed her lips together to hold back a grin.
“Excuse me for calling your brother an asshole, but that asshole threw a ticker-tape parade when I told him we were over.”
“Very comforting,” she quipped.
“I didn’t need comforting.” Even if I had, the idea of Elliot offering comfort was laughable.
She kicked me softly under the table. “Didn’t you love her?”
I chuffed, picking up my fork. “Do we need to keep talking about this?” I scooped a large bite of my quickly cooling dinner into my mouth. Elise was determined to keep me talking.
“You asked me all sorts of prying questions, Westie. It’s only fair I get to ask the same. You must have loved her to be with her for three years.”
I scooped another large bite onto my fork. “It was something like love. I thought I wanted to marry her, but when we ended, I wasn’t heartbroken.”
“Marriage? Wow.”
“We would have been divorced within a year if we’d even made it down the aisle.”
I’d been toying with buying a ring. Looking back, I couldn’t even remember why. I supposed it’d felt like the next natural step.
When I’d brought up the idea of marriage, Marisol told me until I’d found a way to love her as much as my company—not more, but equally—she couldn’t marry me.
There had been no tears. We’d gone back to her house, like always, and had spent the night in her bed. When I left the next day, I’d been relieved. When I thought of my calendar and all the time that had been freed up without a girlfriend to consider, I realized she’d been right.
I wasn’t heartless. I had missed her. But the fact was, I got over that quickly.
Today had been my final straw with Marisol. The way she dismissed Elise, then tried to stake some type of ridiculous claim on the drive home, had turned me so far off of her, all my warm feelings had withered and died right then and there.
I put down my fork. “That’s enough of that topic. I can think of far more interesting things to discuss.”
“I don’t know. Prying into your personal life is awfully fun for me.”
“I’d rather be prying into your pants.”
A laugh burst out of her, and this time, I joined her.
“That was awful,” she said through giggles.
It had been. The worst line that had ever left my mouth. But the payout had been far too great to give a damn.
