He just kept looking at me like I was some puzzle piece he hadn’t realized fit until right this second.
Little Charlotte Westwood, always so sweet and shy with her braces and piano recitals, had somehow turned into a grown woman while I wasn’t looking. A beautiful woman, at that. One I’d unknowingly snubbed at CC’s Christmas party last winter, but I was glad I hadn’t kissed her.
A woman like that? Once might not have been enough and I wasn’t about to set foot on a road I couldn’t walk down. Just noticing that she’d grown up felt like a betrayal. Noticing how beautiful she’d become felt like treason.
Obviously, men were going to be interested in her. Alex just clearly hadn’t learned yet that he had to let go. Whether we liked it or not, even younger sisters grew up and lived their lives.
Hell, I hadn’t liked seeing mine pair off with my best fucking friend at first, but here we were. Alex would eventually learn how to deal, too.
But right now, he was in complete denial and he was looking at me like he expected me to do something about it.Oh, hell.
“Do you want me to make this guy disappear or something?” I asked.
Alex snorted, took a sip of his drink, and leveled me with that too serious stare again. “No, but how far are you willing to go for your friends?”
“About as far as I can throw them,” I said dryly.
He frowned. “Charlotte’s a good kid. I don’t trust Gregory. I need someone else for her. I needyourhelp with that. Just until I can get my dad off her back.”
I stared at him for a long moment. “You can’t be serious.”
Alex didn’t blink, and I realized then that he absolutely was. Sadie used to tease me that I didn’t give off golden-retriever energy because I was more of a cattle dog. I didn’t like being cooped up. I liked hard work, long days, and problems you solved with your hands, not a board meeting.
I raised an eyebrow at him. “Do you want me to lure him out back, or are you worried about getting blood on your Armani jacket?”
Alex rolled his eyes back to his drink. “Just give me a minute to think.”
“Yeah. Okay. You do that. I’ll just be here with my whiskey and about a million things I still need to get done today.”
He scoffed. “You and me both, man, but Charlotte has to take priority.”
In the absence of knowing what else to do, I picked up my drink and leaned back in my chair. Arranged marriage was practically part of the Westwood genes, but that didn’t mean any of them liked it. Not at first, anyway.
I’d been through all this with Jameson when his turn had come. Obviously, Dougie was following in his big brother’s footsteps and issuing ultimatums to his kids.
It was interesting that he’d start with Charlotte, but maybe he wasn’t. Maybe he just thought they’d be a good match. Honestly, he wasn’t wrong. Either way, Daddy Westwood would get his wish unless Alex could come up with something really good. A solid, viable plan.
Whatever scheme he cooked up, it couldn’t be half baked or hare-brained, and it seemed he realized it too because it turned out he needed way more than a minute. It was more like an hour, a few drinks, and half a cigar, and then, instead of a plan, we finally circled back to the business that had supposedly brought me to Chicago in the first place.
When we left the club, there wasstillno plan for Charlotte, but at least he looked a lot calmer, that grin coming easier again and his tie loosened for a change, his jacket slung over his arm.
Back at my temporary apartment, I stood at the window that overlooked the lake, one hand braced against the cold glass as I stared out at the jagged skyline. Chicago looked like it was trying too hard to impress with all the flashing lights, glittering towers, noise, and movement.
It made my skin itch. I would take wide-open plains and the sound of crickets over this circus any day, but this was the place I’d chosen to make my stand. I breathed through the swell of doubt inside and tried to grab onto the reason I’d decided to settle the business here in the first place.
Chicago made sense. Because of distribution. Demand. Alex. I just had to stick it out these first few weeks and I would be fine.
My phone buzzed on the coffee table behind me. Absently reaching for it, I fully expected to find a message from Sadie, Jameson, or Alex. Instead, it was from a number I didn’t recognize.
Unknown: Hey, Cowboy. You free Friday morning?
I frowned, my thumbs hovering over the screen. I had a suspicion, but I wasn’t going to let on.
Me: Who is this?
Unknown: Stella. From the coffee shop. Don’t act like you’ve forgotten me already. I lined up that blind date for you with my friend, Lottie. Café Vero at 10 for coffee.
I blinked. Of all the weird things that had happened today, this was somehow the weirdest. The random, stalker perhaps slaughterer was following through. Shit, that made her more reliable than most other people I’d met in the last decade.
