“What are you doing here?” I ask, keeping my voice low and firm.
Her eyes flicker with nerves, but she doesn’t back down. “I came to see Sophia.”
“I told you that wasn’t happening.”
She squares her shoulders, her resolve hardening. “Sophia’s a grown woman. She can decide for herself if she wants to see me.”
I plant my hand on the doorframe. “I haven’t told her who you are or about you working with Marshall.”
“I’m not working with Marshall. And I suspect you didn’t tell her about seeing me because then you’d have to admit that you went there to what? Beat him up? Did you think that would help?”
Her censorious tone, when she’s the one in the wrong, sets me on edge.
“If you think I’m going to let you pump her for information and turn this against her?—”
“I’m not here to do that. I’m not my father, Chaz.”
“That remains to be seen.”
Hurt flashes across her face, reddening her cheeks, but I can’t allow that to matter. Protecting my sister comes first. “Sophia doesn’t need any of this right now.”
She visibly gathers herself, hands going into her coat pocket—the motion I recognize as squeezing her stress ball. “I’m not here to argue with you,” she says evenly. “You can choose not to speak with me, not to give me a chance to explain, but Sophia deserves the choice.”
Before I can fire back, Sophia’s voice breaks through the tension.
“Lexie?” I turn to see her standing in the hallway, her eyes brighter than they’ve been since this nightmare started. “I thought I heard your voice.” And then she’s rushing to the door, brushing past me to pull Lexie inside, wrapping her in a tight hug. “I’m so glad you’re back.”
“I’m sorry I wasn’t here,” Lexie murmurs.
The dam bursts. Sophia starts speaking so fast that I can barely keep up. “I wanted to call you, but I felt so stupid. You warned me about everything, and I didn’t listen.”
“This isn’t your fault, Sophia.” Lexie soothes. “You did nothing wrong.”
“I thought he liked my ideas.” She starts crying. “I thought he really wanted to talk about a job.”
“Of course you did.” She rubs Sophia’s back. “You had no way of knowing what he really intended. He’s the only one at fault, okay, not you?”
Sniffling, Sophia nods in response.
I stand there, just staring as Lexie gets out of her coat and boots and follows Sophia into the living room. She settles into my spot with the popcorn I made, and Sophia curls up beside her. I force my gaze away.
While they watch Beyoncé, I go to the kitchen and mix the ingredients for hot chocolate in a pan. Not because I’m being a good host but because I need to do something while I figure out how the hell to feel about her being here.
“Thank you,” I murmur when Chaz sets down the mugs of cocoa. Each is topped with a heaping swirl of whipped cream, bringing back memories of that frisky encounter we shared in the backroom of his café. It now feels like ages ago.
He nods curtly and takes a seat at the far end of the couch, putting as much distance between us as the small space allows.
If Sophia notices the tension simmering between us, she doesn’t let on. Her gaze stays fixed on the screen where Beyoncé belts out a soaring ballad, gripping the cushion cradled to her chest like it’s an anchor in the storm. Another member of Chaz’s family hurt by Townsen Industries. Not directly by my father this time, but by the man he hired despite all the red flags. The same man he appears determined to protect.
If you aren’t prepared to contain this, Alexandra, then get out of the way and let Frank handle it. I won’t tolerate any more of your disloyalty.
I didn’t bother arguing. There was no point. I already knew what I intended to do. It’s the only thing keeping me from sinking into the wreckage of my regret. Regret that I hadn’t told Chaz sooner. If I had, maybe he would never have asked me out on non-dates. He might never have kissed me or touched me. He might never have let himself fall in love with me. Or maybe he still would have.
I’ll never know.
I’d cried so much before leaving Chicago that I was amazed there was any water left in my body. I should have shriveled into a brittle, dehydrated shell. The man I love, the one who used to look at me like I was something special, now looks at me with bitter scorn.
He didn’t even want to let me in tonight. He didn’t want me near Sophia. Knowing how he feels makes me want to burrow beneath my heated blanket and disappear until this ache dulls to something bearable.
