“If her name is Lex Maxfield, then I love her.” There. I saidit.
A sobering silence crops up in our circle before we meander to the topic of the bar. We spend the next hour looking at numbers, talking strategies before the realtor calls Levi and hauls him away. Brody finds himself getting sucked back into that vortex of the trap I’ve laid out for him and he too staggers out of theplace.
No sooner do I rise to leave than my favorite redhead struts on in, shoulders back, hair wild and flowing, that look on her face saysI will slit the throat of every person in here without thinking twice, and something about that makes my lips twitch with a smile and I sit right back down. My heart starts in on a few quick stomps. It’s never in rhythm when Lex is around. It’s a long-standing tradition that she makes my heart beat faster, my entire body shakes as it begs to have her. And right about now, it’s downright pleading on a cellular level. My balls ache, my mouth salivates just wishing for one more night, but my heart knows better. I don’t want just a singular night with Lex—but hell, I would take it. What I really need is all of her. Her beautiful complicated mind, her energetic spirit that keeps me on my toes, and that heart of hers. I’d do anything if she’d let me dust it off for her one more time. Lex was never a fan of that particular beating member of her anatomy, nor was she a fan of the one I happen to harbor myself. Nope. Somewhere along the line she closed it off, buried it under a layer of ice—about the time her mother skipped out on her in what would pan out to be a long line of disappointments. That’s all people were to her, disappointments. And I happened to fall into that category. Here I sit, one of Lex’s disappointments, my own biggestdisappointment.
She collects her coffee, grunting at the barista’s attempt to make small talk as she stalks her way past me as if I were invisible and sits near the back. Lex opens her laptop and ducks in close, pounding at the keyboard like a woman on amission.
I don’t hesitate in getting up and heading over. I may have hesitated before the big reprisal in my life, but now that we’re working together, that she’s working for me, it feels like fairgame.
“Okay, now I’m curious,” I say as I take the seat across from her, but Lex doesn’t bother to look up, her fingers never slow as they dance across thekeyboard.
“Go away,” she says it so curt and quick I half-wonder if she even knows it’s me or if that were some stock answer she’s tossing at me. “I mean it, Ax,stat.”
Mysterysolved.
“How’d you know it was me? My firm masculine voice? That familiar scent of my cologne? I believe you once bought a bottle just so you could wear it to remind yourself of me.” And when she told me that, it melted my heart on a level I never thought possible. Lex loved me so much she cherished my scent. The thought still makes me ache for what we once had—that I believe we can stillhave.
“I saw you through the window before I entered,” she says it so low and fast I had to struggle to grasp it. “But I didn’t care that you were here.” She looks up for less than a second before returning to her task. “You see, Axel, I don’t really care aboutyou.”
There it is, the hot poker through the stomach that inevitably arrives each time I’m around her, at least lately. But in all honesty, it’s a complete upgrade from the silent treatment. At least I know what she’s thinking, how much she’s actually detesting me. It’s nice on a cerebral level to know these things, Isuppose.
“Duly noted.” I bounce my seat next to hers until I have full view of her computer screen, and she quickly lowers it aninch.
“Do youmind?”
“Yes, actually, I do. I’m dying to know what you’re hammering out on that keyboard. Let me guess. A statement to the police why a restraining order against me might be in order in spite of the fact you work forme?”
She belts out a short-lived laugh, and I’m jarred by this. First, Lex doesn’t laugh—not really. And second, well, she justlaughed.
“Wish I would have thought of that.” She leans back in her seat before sealing those serious eyes of hers over my own like a magnet. “Even though I’m technically working for you, I consider myself jobless. I’m trying to make a better way for myself in this world like everyone else, if you must know. I’m creating my destiny. That, my ex-friend, is what I’m hammering out on my laptop. It’s called thefuture.”
“The future?” I boldly scoot the laptop screen back to its upright position, and sure enough it looks to be a business proposal of some sort she’s workingon.
I absorb my attention to the screen, completely ignoring the fact she just referred to me as her ex-friend. I was sort of hoping we had already meandered into that thorny friendly territory. “The Epicurean Elite,” I muse at the title of thedoc.
She snaps her laptop shut and takes a long swig of her iced tea. “That’s right. It’s my baby, and I’m running withit.”
My heart gives a few more wallops because it actually seems as if we’re in a bona fide conversation. She hasn’t kicked me out of my seat yet, so already we’re off to a greatstart.
“What is it?” I take a careful sip of the sludge at the bottom of my drink, afraid to elicit any sudden movements, thus reminding her of her primal urge to bolt whenever I’maround.
“I’m a food critic, Ax. It’s what I do. And if Food Crack Nation won’t have me, then I’ll simply go ahead and create my own food critic database, only I’ll do it on a public forum. Bigger and better, ofcourse.”
“Sort of like Yelp for Help?” In no way did I intend to burst her bubble by way of even hinting that there’s another place out there that does this very thing. But still, she should beapprised.
“Like Yelp for Help minus the yahoos. The only people eligible to submit ratings on my site will be real deal food critics, none of that attention-seeking stuff that pulls the idiots out of the woodwork. No one couldn’t care less if your waiter was slow. We want to know about the cuisine.” She pulls her purse onto her shoulder and scoops up her laptop as if she’s about to takeoff.
“Whoa—while I have you here, what’s the name of the yahoo living across the street fromyou?”
“Stumpy?” She relaxes back in her seat, and I can’t help but notice her tits jumped in her T-shirt with the action. Lex has a body that is every thirteen-year-old boy’s wet dream, and essentially that’s what her body has the ability to reduce me to whenever she’saround.
“Yes, Stumpy. What’s her legal name? One of those protesters nearly dented my car the other night. I happen to think they’re a menace to society, and at this point so is she.” I’d love to channel all of my frustration into smashing that troll with my judiciary thumb. Who the hell does she think she is making Lex’s life so miserable? A hot wave of guilt washes over me because I happen to have done the very samething.
“I don’t know, Carrie—Karen? Stegmiller, Stegmiestser, or something random like that. If you throw the book at her, let me know. I might actually show up in the cheeringsection.”
A smile dares bloom on my lips at the thought of Lex and me on the same side for once. “Courtrooms don’t traditionally have cheering sections, but I will be sure to let you know what comes ofit.”
“Speaking of which”—she tilts her head, and her hair perks up and waves over at me before resting on her shoulder—“whatever became of Emilia? By the way, speaking of your siblings, Shep and I have been spending quite a bit of time together.” She bites down on her bottom lip as if the thought of making me jealous through her relationship with my brother—which I know is strictly related to the fact she’s struggling financially. But I’m far more stuck on the fact she’s just asked about my sister. The one that isn’t hereanymore.
