Chapter Ten
Alice
Next Monday, Blake and I are preparing a prelaunch party for Blue Moon. Only the family is invited, and they give feedback on anything they believe can be improved. I’ve done this ever since opening my first restaurant, and it’s served me well. I can count on them to give me honest feedback before opening the doors to guests and reviewers. I invited Nate too, but he’s swamped at work. Since he officially accepted the job here last week, his schedule has become even nuttier than mine. We’re finally having our first date next week. After being kissed out of my shoes, saying that I’m looking forward to it is an understatement.
“This is going to be perfect,” I exclaim, drumming my fingers on the bar. Excitement courses through my veins. “Do you need help?”
“The bar is my domain.” Blake’s behind it, crushing some ice for drinks. “You’re not allowed to touch anything.”
Smiling lazily, I lean across the bar, grasping one of Blake’s squeaky clean glasses and then promptly removing my hand, leaving my fingerprints on it. He points a menacing finger my way.
“Stop.”
“Come on, you’re the fun brother. Why so serious?”
“Just want things to work out perfectly.”
***
At six o’clock sharp, the family starts arriving. Ava and Sebastian arrive first with baby Will. My big brother pulls me into a bear hug while Ava sniffs the air, rubbing her son’s head.
“Oh, this is going to be a feast,” she exclaims.
Logan and Nadine arrive next, closely followed by Max and Christopher and their fiancées. I’ve always had trouble telling the identical twins apart, but it became significantly easier ever since they each have a fiancée on their arms. Neither pair has set their wedding date yet, but we’re expecting it any second now. Max confided in me that he and Emilia wanted to throw the wedding this year, but then Emilia’s grandmother died, and no one was in the mood to celebrate anymore. The poor woman had Alzheimer’s, and her last months were very hard.
My parents, Daniel, and Pippa with her family close the convoy. The only one missing is my baby sister Summer. I invited her, but she had a ton of work at her gallery in Rome. She would’ve caved if I’d pressed more, but I would’ve felt like an idiot making her fly over just for this.
Blake and I give the family the grand tour, starting with the bar area. I’m so proud of our work it’s ridiculous. Finding the perfect location for Blue Moon took a while. My other two restaurants are high in the hills, with scenic views of the city, but I really wanted one on the waterfront. So when the opportunity came up to buy an old restaurant in Fisherman’s Wharf and refurbish it, Blake and I bought it immediately. The view of San Francisco Bay and the Golden Gate Bridge in the distance is fabulous, and we made sure to build in large panoramic windows so guests can enjoy all this beauty. The interior is sleek and elegant, but also warm. The walls are the color of champagne, and the furniture is a deep, dark brown with tints of red. Victoria Hensley, Christopher’s fiancée, was the decorator, and she did an excellent job.
During the tour, I let my brother do most of the talking while I focus on everyone’s reactions—what catches their attention, what has them wrinkling their nose, and so on. A lot can be learned from body language. Sometimes people can’t pinpoint exactly what they dislike about something, so they don’t mention it at all.
Afterward, Blake starts preparing cocktails for everyone. Soon he becomes overwhelmed, so I join him.
“Alice—”
“Yes, this is your man cave, but you’re going to give yourself carpal tunnel if I don’t help you.”
My brother elbows me playfully but doesn’t reject my help.
“They weren’t so excited for my bar opening,” he comments.
“Because the ultimate payoff here is a feast. Food will always be a bigger attraction than booze in our family. Keep that in mind, little brother.”
Once everyone has emptied their cocktails, we invite them over to the restaurant area.
Over dinner, everyone shares their impressions, and I jot everything down. Blake listens intently, following up any criticism with smart questions.
“You’re so much better than me at asking for feedback,” I murmur to him. “Love your questions.”
Blake winks at me. “Thank fuck you’re writing everything down. I never bother and then forget half the feedback. We make a great team.”
“We do.”
When Blake and I first decided to work together, I wasn’t sure how this would pan out. My relationship in the past with him can be summed up as follows: I covered up his and Daniel’s wrongdoings whenever necessary, and by way of thanking me, both my darling brothers teased me incessantly. But we’re working together beautifully. I love having someone I can trust completely by my side, running things. I don’t trust people outside the family easily, and it takes me a while to warm up to anyone new on the staff. Probably why I have such a hard time relinquishing control to my restaurant managers.
Logan raises his glass. “Alice and Blake, you’ve outdone yourself.”
“Say, Logan,” Daniel interjects from across the table, “what’s it gonna take for you to give me some compliments? Now that you’re freely handing them out even to Blake, I feel like a second-class citizen.”
Half the table bursts out laughing, including me. Logan shakes his head, running his thumb and forefinger over his jaw, a look of fake concentration on his face.
“Don’t get on my bad side, Daniel,” Logan warns, but his tone is playful. Daniel and Blake used to spend most of their time partying until a few years ago, and Logan was always riding their asses because of it, edging them on to become more responsible. Now that Blake and Daniel both own businesses, Logan backed off, but the twins still love to pick on our older brother for fun.
“Well, I have an invitation for all of you. It’s short notice, but I hope you’ll be able to make it. I want to add some of the more interesting climbing routes at Joshua Tree to my company’s offerings. Would anyone like to help me test them? I’m heading out there in two weeks.”
My brother Daniel owns an outdoor sports and extreme adventure business. His question is met with an awkward silence, and I can practically hear everyone’s mind spinning, searching for an excuse. Yep, that’s where the Bennett clan draws the line at family loyalty: extreme adventures. I’m brave, but when Daniel says interesting, he actually means dangerous. After all, they’re meant to offer an adrenaline spike. Several of us, myself included, have been on such climbing trips before, which is why I understand the silence. I have a few gray hairs, and I swear they sprung up after every trip.
“Daniel,” Logan says, “I hate to break it to you, but we’re not exactly your target market.”
“We all know your idea of wild means an outfit that doesn’t require you to wear cuff links,” Daniel deadpans. “I was referring to the younger crowd.” His eyes travel over to Max, Christopher, Blake, and rest on me. Damn, damn, damn.
Christopher and Max immediately say they already have plans.
Even though I’ll regret it, and quite possibly end up with more gray hairs from the experience, I say, “Sure, why not? I’ll do it.”
Under the table, I stomp on Blake’s foot lightly. He winces, setting his jaw.
“Can you guarantee I won’t die?” Blake asks. A pit forms in my stomach. That even Blake has such fears gives me heartburn.
“Don’t be so dramatic,” Daniel volleys back. “Where’s your spirit of adventure?”
“There’s a difference between adventure and danger,” Mom comments. She and Dad have tried to be supportive about Daniel’s venture, but every now and then their worry for him comes through. I don’t blame them. I get heartburn every time he tells us what he’s up to.
“Who’s ready for dessert?” I ask loudly, wanting to switch topics. After a unanimous “me,” I let the kitchen know we’re ready for the sugar overload. After the last bite of dessert is gone, we all return to the bar area where Blake and I prepare some much-needed digestives. Drink in hand, everyone scatters to the seats in the room, except for Sebastian, who is still waiting for his.
“Great job, you two,” Sebastian says. “We’re really proud of you—”
“Hold it,” Blake cuts in, finishing our oldest brother’s drink. “When it comes to praise, I don’t want to miss one word.”
Seconds later Blake places Sebastian’s mojito in front of him, watching with rapt attention.
“I’m listening now, and wouldn’t mind if you lay it on thick,” Blake says. “At the very least I’m expecting praise for investing the income from my dividends so well.” Back when Sebastian started Bennett Enterprises, he made everyone in the family a shareholder. I don’t think it’s fair because it’s his work, and Logan’s and Pippa’s. Christopher and Max also work there but the rest of us don’t. Changing my brother’s mind is like trying to move a mountain though, so I’ve given up.
“You both have,” Sebastian says.
Blake frowns, holding up one finger. “Correction. Alice hasn’t. Her share of the investment came from profits of her two other locations and a loan.”
Damn Blake and his big mouth. Granted, I never specifically told him not to share this piece of information with our oldest brother, but….
“Why aren’t you using the shares money for expansion?” Sebastian asks.
“Because I didn’t need it. I’ve been donating that money for years.”
“All of it?”
“Yeah.”
Sebastian seems too stunned to speak for a moment. Blake correctly weighs the situation and moves a few steps away, giving us privacy.
“It’s not that I don’t appreciate what you did for all of us,” I say quickly. “What you’re still doing, as a matter of fact. But you never wanted to accept the shares back—”
“I didn’t give them to you expecting you to return them,” he says gently.
“So you’re not upset?”
Sebastian has known for years that I’m donating a big chunk of the money I receive as a shareholder of Bennett Enterprises, but I never owned up to giving away all of it.
“Of course not. It’s your money, and you can do with it whatever you want to. It’s very commendable on your part.”
I let out a relieved breath.
“Alice,” he says gently, “you don’t have to prove anything to me, or to any of us. You’ve always wanted to do things on your own, and you succeeded.”
“Only because I had a safety net. I’m not a hypocrite. I wouldn’t have ventured out to do all of this if I didn’t know I’d be okay even if I failed. It’s a fantastic certainty to live with, and I will always be thankful for it.” Pressing my lips together, I search for the right words. “I’m not trying to prove anything to anyone other than myself.”
“I understand.” Sebastian nods thoughtfully, and the twinkle of pride in his eyes makes my heart double in size.
***
When I step inside the lobby of my building many hours later, Sam, the doorman, smiles, eyeing the small take-out box in my hand.
“I have your favorite bagels here, Sam.”
“Your food is bad for my figure, Ms. Bennett.” Despite the protest, he opens the box, immediately digging in.
“I know, but it’s so good for the soul.”
“Have a nice evening.”
“You too.”
Yawning, I head to the elevators. I’m bone-tired but also happy that tonight went so well. When I reach the door to my apartment, I stumble over something. Glancing down, I notice a small gift bag. Energy zips through me, instantly pushing thoughts of sleep away. Like a kid on Christmas morning, I lift it up, barely making it inside my apartment before opening it. Inside is a delicate flask of lavender essential oil and a card.
Sorry I couldn’t be there for you tonight. Sleep tight.
Nate
Oh, sweet heavens. This man is turning on the charm all right.
I’m typically still so wound up in my thoughts at night I lie awake for hours, thinking. I keep a bowl of water in my room, where I pour a few drops of lavender essential oil in the evenings because it helps me relax and sleep. I ran out of oil last week and didn’t have time to buy a new one. Which I mentioned in passing to Nate, and he remembered.
Clutching the flask against my chest like it’s a prized diamond, I stroll to my living room, grinning from ear to ear.
I want to call him, but maybe he’s gone to bed. It’s very late. A text message shouldn’t wake him though, right? Gah, if I don’t do anything, I’ll just burst from so much energy and excitement.
Alice: Thank you so much for the lavender oil. Hope I’m not waking you up.
Yeah, sending the message didn’t really do anything to dampen my energy. Smothering Nate with kisses might. Just remembering the way he kissed me in that alley is enough to send my senses into overdrive. I startle when my phone starts ringing. Nate.
“You’re not sleeping,” I say by way of greeting.
“Nah, I’m just now heading home. How did it go?”
“Great. We got helpful feedback.” I rattle on about my evening, finishing with Daniel’s invitation for our family to test out rock climbing trails at Joshua Tree National Park, and how only Blake and I are brave—or stupid—enough to try it out with him.
“Hey! That’s something I could do with my new team. Not extreme rock climbing, don’t think anyone’s into that, but some other team-building activity, like maybe hiking. I’ll give Daniel a call.”
“He’ll try to rope you into rock climbing too.”
“I’ll try it. I’m no coward.”
“Are you implying the rest of my family is?” I tease, curling into my favorite armchair in the living room. “Watch it or I’ll cook up a revenge plan for our date.”
Nate chuckles, but despite his good humor, he sounds tired. I wish I could go over to his place and take care of him, make sure he relaxes and puts the stressful day behind him. Yeah, that wouldn’t send him running for the hills or anything, considering we’re just going on our first date next week. I’ve known him for a long time, and he likes to have his space.
“I buy you lavender oil and offer to put my life on the line for your brother, and all I get is threats?”
“Well, when you put it like that, I sound terrible. Thank you for the lavender oil. Very thoughtful of you. How did you get it on my doorstep? Did the doorman bring it up?”
“No man worth his salt reveals his secrets.”
“Do you have anything secret planned for our date?”
“Ah, that’s no secret. I plan to drive you crazy. You might even forget about your rule of five.”
“You sound a bit too self-assured.”
“I kissed you out of your shoes when we weren’t on a date. I like my chances, Alice.”
Holy hotness and sweet mercy. My name rolls off his tongue in a lower octave than the rest of the sentence, sounding seductive and forbidden. Damn it, he shouldn’t use his bedroom voice on the phone. There should be some rule against it. Does this man have no mercy? I ignore the way my pulse spikes, chastising myself for being so overresponsive to him. Instead, I clasp the lavender flask tighter.
“Game on, Becker.”