“And you, Ms. Maxfield?” Mr. Collins leans in. I dated Axel for an entire year and never met his father. His mother a handful of times, same with Teagan and Shep—Emilia and I were close toward the end, but this man was an enigma, who was too busy holing up in his office to be a part of his son’s life. And now, ironically, my life is in hishands.
“The Epicurean Elite has been my baby for the last five years. When I started out as a food critic working for Food Crack Nation, I knew that a job with a ceiling was no place for me. I had bigger dreams than settling for a nine-to-five with a mediocre salary and a mediocre name.Mycompany”—I take a moment to glare at the blonde thief—“is far more than simply a place to leave your thoughts on your latest not-so greatest meal. It’s a place where the lay can visit to see what the pros think of the food game at the local pubs and clubs. The Epicurean Elite will have a vetted team of nutritionists, food critics, and well-curated food lovers who are able to leave a review for any and every establishment they like. Instead of heading to Yelp for Help and reading the drivel of countless yahoos on why their dinner was late, the reader will discover quality food and where to get it—or where to avoid it at all costs. This isn’t a glass room. The gloves will come off if they have to. And beyond the initial food critiques, my site will encompass news and reviews published by myself and others I choose to employ, as well as recipes to my favorite dishes, a travel section, a special segmented arena for vegan and gluten-free—not to mention the pictorials. I’m talking food pornography at its finest. You may not come hungry when you land on the site, but you will be salivating with love-struck eyes by the time youleave.”
The room grows silent as Teagan’s and Shep’s jaws drop. I glance over to Axel and his lips are parted with shock as well. I take it the wordpornographyhas yet to be uttered in this airspace. I’m sure it’s been streamed a time or two. After all, let’s be realists. Shep workshere.
“I see.” Mr. Collins nods as he peruses the paperwork beforehim.
My God, what did I tell Abby Boobcox that ill-fated afternoon? Did I really gift her the keys to the kingdom just hoping she’d scuttleaway?
A heavy sigh expels from me. Most likely Idid.
“It looks to be pretty similar.” Mr. Collins frowns up at Abby. “Lex’s version is a bit more detailed—a hell of a lot more passionate. You know—that’s exactly why I vetoed yourproposal.”
Abby gasps as if this wasnews.
Mr. Collins nods to Ax. “But this one was insistent I take you on.” He takes off his glasses and rubs his tired eyes. “What have you got to say for yourself,son?”
Axel leans in, elbows on the table, head pointed straight at Abby, and it’s an intimidating look. “I had no clue what she was looking to peddle.” His shoulders slump slightly as his expression softens. “I’m sorry, Abby. I knew you were short on cash, and I didn’t have the heart to fire you. When you mentioned offering my father a business proposal, I ran with it. You have a wonderful degree and a bright head on your shoulders. I had no idea the business you’d be partnering with my father in was Lex’scompany.”
Her cheeks burn with color. Her eyes flare as if ready to torch this entire building with the rage percolating insideher.
“I’m not going to sit here and listen to this. It’s clear whose side the entire lot of you are on. I’m innocent in all of this. I’m the victimhere.”
“You’re the criminal here,” Axel is quick to point out. “You’ve entered into a legal agreement with a company infrastructure you swiped from someone else. Lex is free to sueyou.”
Mr. Collins lifts a finger. “I’m free to sueyou.”
Shep shakes his head at her. “My father has been known to extract maximum prison time for far lesscrimes.”
“Oh ma gawd!” she belts it out just like Raven, and a wicked grin spreads over my features just to see her sojingle-jangled. “I can’t go to prison.” She shuffles toward the door. “I don’t look good in orange! It clashes with my hair. You just take my name off all those legal forms, and we’ll call it aday.”
Mr. Collins nods to Teagan, and she leaps to the exit right alongside the blonde bombshell plotting her escape. “It’s not that simple,” he calls out after her before turning to me. “But we’ll make it so.” His brows rise in my direction. “As soon as I untangle myself from this partnership, I’d be interested in exploring one with you.” He nods as he rises. “Son”—he smacks his lips, the disappointment in Axel is palpable—“try not to screw things up too badly for me.” He takes off and Shep follows, closing the door behindthem.
Axel turns my way, his hands tapping over the table. “I’ve already screwed up everything that’s important to me. I don’t see why I can’t screw things up for my father,too.”
I cinch Poppy over my shoulder and jump to my feet. “Rest assured. Youdid.”
* * *
I’m notsure why I do things on occasion. I’m not sure why I say the things I say. When my mother left, she forked my tongue on her way out the door—or at least that’s what I’ve chosen to believe over the years. It’s as if her exit from my life formed a steel resolve over me that included a barbed fence permanently installed around myheart.
The odds are that Axel didn’t have a clue what Abby was up to. And that embrace at the Black Bear wasn’t likely anything nefarious either, but it’s probably best Axel and I stay away from one another because—because… My God, I can’t come up with a single reasonwhy.
I head to the Black Bear in hopes my favorite inadvertent waitress is working the tables, and as soon as I spot Serena my entire body relaxes for the first time indays.
“Lex!” She skips over and rings me with a hug. “I’m due for a fifteen-minute break, and I’m taking it with you. Find a table and I’ll head over and let Holt know.” She wrinkles her nose. “He’s the cuteowner.”
“Stay away from cute owners,” I call afterher.
“Relax. He’s married!” she cries through alaugh.
Married. Meh. I growl at the entire establishment as I find a dark booth near the back—same spot I sat in six years ago. So much went wrong from there. Honestly, how much worse can itget?
Serena skips back—an annoying habit I have never been able to break her of—and falls in the seat across from me. That vanilla musk cologne of hers warms the distance between us with every sweet memory we’ve ever shared. Sort of the way Axel’s cologne did earlier. My face fills with heat, and I take a quick swig of the water Serena brought back withher.
“Are youblushing?”
“No, I’m internally bleeding.” I sneer. “I’m here to apologize. That’s not easy for me, but I owe you one and you’re going to get it.” I pull my lips into a smile. “I’m sorry. It’s your life, and if you think cavorting with boys for the next four years fits with your scholastic goals, alongside of holing up in a bar most nights, then who am I to stopyou?”
