“How can you be so sure?”

  The stoplight allowed Max to really look at her. “Because your friend Josie had no problem dismissing me. Dealing with the bartender was beneath her. You two probably had a good laugh over the mutt you lavished a little attention on, then tossed aside like old shoes when you were done.”

  “It’s been eight years, Max, but you can’t have forgotten exactly who I am. I’m an idiot, but I’m not cruel.”

  The leather of the steering wheel creaked from the pressure of Max’s grip. “Just because you say something over and over doesn’t make it true even if you’ve convinced yourself otherwise.”

  “But—”

  Max held up a finger. “Concentrate on work, and do what you do best.”

  “What?” she asked as Max made the light to turn onto Canal Street downtown.

  “Disappear, only this time I won’t waste my time wondering what I did wrong, or worrying something happened to you.” Max stopped in front of the Piquant and took a deep breath. “I understand now why you left, but how you did it was really shitty.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Sure,” Max said as if placating her. “If you don’t mind, I have to get going.”

  The car sped away as soon as she closed the passenger-side door, and the pain in her chest made her breathe faster. How in the world had she fooled herself all this time that this didn’t matter? Max wasn’t at all a crush she’d had in college who could be tossed aside like obsolete textbooks.

  She turned when someone put their arm around her shoulder, and she went from frightened to total wreck when she saw it was Josie. The tears she’d thought long over came out in sobs that she couldn’t hold in any longer. Why the hell had she not been smarter than this?

  Josie didn’t let her go but led her inside to the elevators, and she followed, not wanting to cause a scene on top of everything else. They sat on the sofa in the living area of their suite, and Josie waited until her emotional outburst calmed to hiccups and residual tears.

  “Drink this.” Josie handed her a glass of something and helped wipe her face with a tissue.

  The slow burn of the whiskey made her take a breath and release it slowly. “Thanks.” She finished the drink and fell back against the cushions. “It’s been a hell of a day.”

  “Can you tell me where you’ve been? I was about to organize a search party.” Josie handed her a few more tissues and waited. Hayley had enough experience with Josie’s expressions to know she wasn’t happy with her at the moment.

  “I went back to try to apologize, but Roger ran interference until Max left the building.”

  “Of course he did.” Josie rolled her eyes and frowned. “Asshole.”

  “We’ve all been there, and our assistants have done the same.” She had a need to defend Roger, considering none of this was his fault. “After that, I went back to the bar and had a drink and some conversation with the bartender.”

  “Not the bartender, right?”

  “Her name was Portia and she was the bartender.” Despite her funk, Josie had a way of making her smile. “I asked enough questions about the Cinclair line that I’m sure she called Max and ratted me out.”

  “There’s a lot of assholes in Max’s orbit.”

  “I’m sure she sees it as loyalty.” She blew her nose, and the action made her headache worse. “The girl who took her place told me I should take the distillery tour if I was so interested, and that gave me an idea.”

  “What’s that? To run away from home and not tell anyone?”

  “No, and I’m sorry, I should’ve called, but I did find the whole Cinclair family.”

  “Including Dale?”

  She nodded. “Dale, his wife Sienna, father Carter, and his daughter.”

  “No shit. Were they nice? Did he give you any insight on this pitch? Wait, who’s the daughter?”

  “No shit, they were, they have a new high-end whiskey they want to debut, and Dale’s daughter is Preston Cinclair.” She almost laughed as Josie nodded along until the last bit, and then her eyes got comically wide.

  “Should we pack now, so Major and my father can fire me in person?”

  “It wasn’t like that, and they let me stay for the unveiling of Traditions. That’s the new whiskey Max came up with. After that, she gave me a ride home.”

  “Really? Honey, that’s great. Did you get a chance to talk?”

  She shook her head and started crying again. It was ridiculous to lose control like this, but the reality of the situation hit her like a brick to the face. It’d been obvious, and it hurt like shit.

  “She’s…she’s…” She took a deep breath and forced the words out. “She’s the love of my life.”

  “I know, honey, and admitting it is the first step to recovery.”

  “What do you mean?” The damn hiccups were back.

  “The more you try and run from the truth, the more miserable you make yourself.”

  * * *

  “That’s where you’re wrong. I’m not miserable,” Preston said with as much indignation as she could get away with and not be accused of being bitchy.

  “Repeating that line over and over isn’t going to convince me,” Roger said as the waiter came out with their salads. “It’s the fourth time you said it, and I still don’t believe you.”

  “I don’t care if you believe me, and if you told her where I was, I’m firing you.” She stabbed the romaine lettuce like it’d come alive and attempted to kill her. “Hayley Wyatt can go to hell and take that superior-acting bitch with her. As a matter of fact, you can call them right now and tell them the only way they’re getting this contract is if I’m in a coma or dead.”

  “You need to calm down and eat your salad—believe me, you need the roughage. If you want them gone, I’ll give you the number, and you can call yourself. I’m not doing it.” Roger ate like he was dining with the queen and would be judged on his table manners. “You also need to grow up and take a few deep breaths.”

  “Are you kidding me?” She stared at him with her fork in the stabbing position. The only thing that kept her from jabbing holes in him was he was so damn dainty.

  “I’m not kidding. Learn to practice a little patience.”

  “Uh…” She sputtered, not able to articulate the rest of any kind of objection.

  “Preston, don’t deny you’re acting like a two-year-old who hasn’t learned the concept of forgiveness.” Roger wiped one side of his mouth gently before he moved to the other side, then lifted his hand. “I realize what happened was in no way cool, but it’s time to gear up and cut bait.”

  “Gear up and cut bait? What the hell you talking about? That makes absolutely no sense.” She put her fork down as a way of fighting the urge to scar Roger with it. The plan to work late was sounding better and better.

  “Whatever the expression, it doesn’t matter,” Roger said, pushing his plate aside. “You need to make a decision here, and there’s only two viable options.”

  She sat back with her glass of wine and waved her hand at him. “Go ahead, I’m sure you’re dying to tell me.”

  “Either hear her out and kiss her, then tell her you still love her, or hear her out and keep lying to yourself. If you go with option two, I want a raise for having to put up with crabby Preston for the rest of my life.”

  “Are you forgetting I’m not the one who skulked out of town? And I’m not the idiot who’s going to allow someone to shred me one more time.” She remembered Hayley’s tears earlier and tried to drive those thoughts off a steep cliff where they’d die a fiery death, hopefully wiping them from her head. “Drop it,” she said when he started to say something else.

  “You do you, my friend.” Roger took a small sip of his drink and sighed. “I’m going to love you no matter what, but if you’re cruel, I might be a tad bit pissed.”

  “I have no intention of being cruel but also don’t want to revisit things that are dead subjects.”

  “Okay,” Roger said, rolling his eyes. “I’m beginning to question all the stories about the gigantic fish you’ve caught in the past.”

  “Have you lost touch with reality?” She wasn’t happy with the conversation, but she’d been able to keep up until that last part. “What does fishing have to do with anything?”

  “Well…” He tapped his index finger against the cleft in his chin. “If you’re able to lie about dead subjects that are in no way dead, then you must be lying about the fish.”

  “You’re a riot and why we’re friends is the real mystery.” The waiter cleared the table, and it took a few minutes for their steaks to come out. “I admit I sound immature, but she hurt me enough that it left a scar.”

  “I know that, but sometimes the only way to heal is to allow yourself the one thing that’ll make your heart truly happy even if it goes against your nature.” Roger placed a hand on his chest and gazed at her with an unreadable expression. “It’s taking a big chance, but that’s who you are.”

  “I can’t, but I’ll think about it. That’s the best I got.” She started her meal, and thankfully Roger dropped the subject and talked about the new whiskey instead.

  She’d walked to the restaurant and declined Rogers’s offer of a ride when they finished, and headed back on foot. The night was another frosty one, and she surprised herself by passing Royal and ending up at the Piquant. She followed some guests through the back entrance and headed through the bar to the house phone at the front desk.

  “Hayley Wyatt, please,” she requested of the operator. This was a horrible idea, but all the crap Roger had laid on her would be mild compared to what she anticipated from her mother, so it was time to act like she was the reasonable one.

  “Hello.”

  “May I speak to Hayley?”

  “Sure, who’s calling?” Josie sounded like a great geek gatekeeper. “Hello?” Josie said when she hesitated too long.

  “Preston Cinclair.”

  “Haven’t you done enough damage for one night? Only an asshole would pile on now.”

  “I’d like Hayley to decide that, so put her on the damn phone.”

  “No, I think I’m going to decide this time. You already hurt her today, and if me calling you an asshole costs us your business, tough shit.”

  The line went dead, and all she could do was stare at the receiver in disbelief. “I’m the immature one, Roger? Seriously?”

  “Did you need anything, Ms. Cinclair?” one of the front desk personnel asked.

  “No, thank you.” She placed the receiver down slowly and turned to leave.

  The band was playing, and there were a few couples on the dance floor, so she sat at the bar and ordered a drink. How her life that had been on solid ground two days ago had been completely upended was something she’d have to weather, but not until Hayley was gone.

  “Hey, I took the chance you were still down here,” Hayley said, startling her into turning around. “I’m sorry about Josie, but she doesn’t speak for me.”

  “I doubt she knows that.” She put a twenty on the bar and pointed to the back entrance. “Would you like to take a walk?” Hayley’s swollen and red eyes were hard to miss and made her realize she’d never before seen Hayley cry. In their year together there’d never been anything that had caused tears.

  “I’d like that.”

  They walked in silence, and the most private place she could think to go was Cinclair’s. Hayley didn’t object. She opened the door to her office and allowed Hayley to take a seat in one of the club chairs she usually used to read.

  “Would you like something to drink?”

  Hayley shook her head, and she sat on the edge of her seat. “No, but thank you for calling me. Seeing you in here today sort of short-circuited my brain, but I’m not upset. It’s given me the chance to really apologize.”

  “You know, it shouldn’t matter. It was a long time ago, but it wasn’t until I saw you that I realized I’m still mad at you.” She rubbed her face with both hands before combing her hair back. “All I need is the why.”

  “I’ve been groomed all my life, along with my twin brother Percy, to take over for my father eventually.” Hayley spoke softly and appeared ready to cry again. “You weren’t planned, but it didn’t take you long to completely overwhelm me.”

  “Obviously not that much.” It was beneath her to be petty, but what the hell.

  “You don’t have to believe me, but it’s true. It didn’t really hit me until a month before graduation.”

  She put her hand up to stop Hayley. “Believe me, I understand that. My upbringing wasn’t any different, when it came to my future. That doesn’t explain why you left without a word. I’ve spun some scenarios over the years, but none of them make sense.”

  “I regret that. If I didn’t, I’d be married with a couple of kids by now. You scared the hell out of me, Max, and I didn’t know how else to handle you except to bury everything I felt for you and leave because I wasn’t strong enough to stay.” Hayley’s tears finally fell, and she appeared completely miserable. “I wasn’t brave enough to admit my feelings for you and what I wanted for my future, but it wasn’t because I didn’t love you.” She shook her head in disbelief, and Hayley seemed to panic. “I loved you, Max, never doubt that, even if I was a total asshole.”

  “There’s nothing we can do about it now, but I appreciate you telling me.” Cowardice wasn’t the best answer, but it beat I don’t give a damn. “Let me walk you back and I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  “Are you sure you still want us to present something?”

  “Your friend is obnoxious, but I understand where she’s coming from. It’s good to have someone who’s so loyal.” She stood up and waited for Hayley to join her. “Roger’s sending a car, so don’t worry about tomorrow night.”

  Hayley wiped her face before she stood and her sadness seem to radiate off her like a blistering sun. It was hard to ignore and why she couldn’t move when Hayley stepped closer and placed her hands on her chest and gazed up at her. This her heart remembered, and she ached from keeping her arms at her sides. Her natural urge to lift her hands and rest them on Hayley’s hips was hard to fight.

  “Please tell me you don’t hate me.”

  “I don’t, and I don’t need your apology. Somewhere along the way I could’ve looked you up and gotten my answers, but I didn’t.” She gently wrapped her fingers around Hayley’s wrists and lowered her hands. “Maybe you were right, and this is the ending we need before heading in very different directions.”

  “So don’t dwell on the what-ifs?” Hayley’s smile in no way projected joy.

  “I’m sure your what-ifs revolve around a simple life with me if you’d stayed. Bartenders seldom grow up to be successful, do they?”

  “Max, if all you’d ever been was a bartender, I would’ve been happy, don’t doubt that. My leaving had nothing to do with finding you lacking, and everything to do with my fear of disappointing my family.”

  She watched Hayley walk out and close the door behind her, as a hint that Hayley didn’t need her to follow. Whatever anger she had left disappeared when the door clicked closed, and she cocked her head back and stared at the ceiling. Why in the world was this happening to her now?

  “I’m a good person, aren’t I?” She spoke out loud to the empty room and figured if karma was a woman, she was laughing her ass off right now.

  Chapter Six

  “Of course you are, but bad shit happens to good people all the time. It’s the universe’s way of getting its kicks,” Josie said as she slipped her feet into some boots. “My theory is the universe is a fastidious little dweeb who has to be celibate for some reason and, because of the unfairness of it, rains misery down upon us by the bucketful.”

  “Is there a moral to this story?” Hayley decided on jeans and boots, knowing the distillery facility was no place for a business suit. “Because your theory is depressing as hell.”

  “My thoughts are you get screwed whether you’re good or bad, and if that’s true, you might as well have a good time. That usually revolves around being bad.” Josie threw on a sweater and a lightweight coat and faced her. “Food for thought—that’s all.”

  “The inside of your brain must be a fascinating place.” She grabbed her bag and a leather journal before ushering them out.

  “You have no idea.” Josie put her hand on Hayley’s elbow and kissed the side of her head. “Now tell me what happened last night.”

  “We cleared the air and she somewhat accepted my apology. She also thinks you’re a good friend.” She was trying to best project happiness when she felt anything but, and was probably failing miserably, but there was no time for the breakdown she was owed.

  “Really?” Josie bumped hips with her. “I would’ve guessed obnoxious, but Max doesn’t strike me as the overly intelligent type.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “She hasn’t figured out you’re in love with her, so dense, really.”

  “She’s right about the friend part.” They stepped outside and Hayley was surprised to find Roger. “Mr. Savoy, it’s nice to see you again.”

  “Please, Ms. Wyatt, call me Roger.” He opened the back door of the black SUV with the Cinclair name on the door. “Are you ready?”

  “Thank you, but we were expecting your boss,” Josie said, then hissed when Hayley pinched her side.

  “We appreciate your coming for us.” She spoke quickly to prevent Roger from thinking of a comeback.

  The driver merged into traffic and they all stayed quiet until they hit the interstate. “Do you have any questions that Portia didn’t answer?” Roger asked.

  She laughed. Of course Portia ratted her out. “It wasn’t personal, and she answered everything I needed about the product. Selling something is best done by telling a story. Cinclair needs to tell the family’s story. It’s a fascinating legacy, I’m sure.”

  Roger nodded and glanced back at her. “The Cinclairs are private people. Their inner circle is small, but the two of you should understand that.”

  “Why would you think that?” Josie asked.

 

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