“Shut up and grab the red one.”
“Got it.”
“Good, get a ticket for me and you to Los Angeles.”
“It’s about fucking time. I’m buying first-class because you’re a pain in the ass.”
“In that case, order me some fucking breakfast too, asshole. Get it delivered to my house.”
“One hangover special headed your way.”
He hangs up before I can say anything else. I cannot make Bree any promises just yet, but I can scout out the possibilities.
* * *
Jason - Two Months Later
My anxiety churns deep in my gut. This is my last hope. Lars and I scouted locations for a new Hotspot, but California is expensive as fuck. I knew that going in but sitting down and looking at my expansion budget, and trying to make it all work, has definitely taken years off my life. I’ve lost a lot of sleep trying to come up with a solution, and the more tired I am the more I ache for Bree.
She’s still lost in the wind. I’ve broken down and social media stalked Chloe. I find comfort knowing Bree is okay, but I hate that she’s moving on without knowing why I turned her down. I secure my tie and check myself out in the mirror. I’m as good as a hollow person can feel. It’s not about me. It’s Carlee’s birthday. With her permission, I also have a business proposition that I’m going to run by her fiancée. There has to be some good coming out of knowing one of the bigger hoteliers in the world.
After the obligatory best friend photo booth mini session, I’m off to find the two men I need to make this plan a reality.
It cost me some pride and low-level begging, but I can’t help but grin when Remi and Emiliano begin to lay out their plan to get me to California. I can’t believe I’m considering leaving home, but at this rate, I’d do anything to get Bree back in my arms.
22
Bree
Winter may be over, but my heart is still frozen. I’m not trying to be dramatic, but literally cannot look at another guy without thinking about Jason. I love my new position, and I’ve been so enthralled with learning, that I’ve managed to neglect everyone in Texas—Jason especially. I saw the few calls and texts when I first arrived, but I’ve been in warped speed since my first day and our friendship was just him letting me down gently. It hurts to think about him, and I know talking to him will be worse. I’m absolving him from any sense of obligation he feels to speak with me.
LA’s weather is neutral year-round, but I’m happy to see spring since it’s supposed to be a time of new beginnings, but I don’t feel it yet. I do, however have plans to have a very good Cinco de Mayo. I will taco and tequila my way out of the lonely slump. Even with my Uncle and Chloe periodically flying out to check on me, the loneliness still lingers because they are not who my mind, body, and soul need to see.
I drop my towel and pull a robe over my damp body. I take a deep breath and reach for my phone. There’s nothing wrong with testing the climate, right? My palms sweat has I dial his number, but it goes straight to voicemail. My eyes flutter closed as his voice filter through in the speaker. I miss him so much. Another stupid tear escapes, but I shake it off. It’s only logical he’d return to his usual ways. He did tell me to go, and I distanced myself from him when I arrived.
Of course, he wouldn’t be available on a Sunday that happens to be one of the biggest drinking nights of the year. The illogical part of my brain tells me he’s fucking someone right now, while telling her all the dirty things he used to tell me. I ignore the hurt long enough to do my hair and throw on a sundress and sandals. I’m riding solo for the night. I haven’t really made any friends because they’re probably trying to figure out who’s the new, sad loner.
I throw my purse across my body and exit the condo. Opting to trying a new place tonight, I turn and walk to the right as opposed to my usual left. I’m a few blocks into sightseeing—I’m still trying to learn my new neighborhood—when I see a sign on a previously abandoned hotel that’s now under construction.
“Cool, the Master’s Hotel Group is opening a new hotel,” I mumble to myself, so no one passing thinks I’m crazy.
It’s good to know that future visitors will have a nice hotel to stay in if they want to lodge nearby. I almost continue my journey, when I spot a familiar logo. Removing my glasses, I clean them with part of my skirt.
“Can’t be…” As if summoned, I walk closer to see the logo on the building. Walking where it’s safe, I stand in front of the building, stumped with disbelief.
I read it out loud for clarity. “MHG presents Hotspot.”
I tamp down my excitement until I can investigate. I see movement inside and open the door in time to hear a big booming voice.
“Hey, dumbass. Your phone died. You forgot to charge it again.”
My blood stings like I’m being electrocuted when the next person speaks. “Get off my back. I have enough going on…”
Stepping inside, I find both guys standing in the middle of the bar that is still under renovation.
“I’m trying to pick the fucking color scheme. The backsplash needs to make a statement but not be something that will date in a few years.”
Lars glares at the side of Jason’s head. “Fuck backsplashes. That’s not my thing. Let the designer pick.”
