Page 3
“That’s awesome, Casey,” I tell her, and Alyssa nods in agreement.
“Thanks,” she gushes, and it warms me to see her so excited about something. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen Casey care about something other than getting a buzz or an orgasm. “Then I’m meeting Brody for lunch. We’re going to drive up to Duck. ”
The mood turns somber around the table, because while it is indeed a happy occasion that Brody is home now, none of us quite knows how to act. He’s been incarcerated up in Raleigh for the past five years, and while his family has been incredibly supportive of him and have been dying for him to get back home… we can’t all help but wonder how he’ll have changed.
I only remember a carefree and perpetually happy man of twenty-two that made a terrible, terrible mistake. I wonder what type of man will come out from behind those prison bars.
“How is he doing?” Alyssa asks, her tone worried and sympathetic.
Casey gives a small smile. “He’s fine. I mean… he’s quiet… introspective. But I’m sure he’ll be fine. Hunter offered him a job at Last Call and I think once he gets into a normal routine, he’ll open up a bit. ”
Brody has only been home a week, and Casey was just over at my house the night before last, crying that the brother she knew and loved was gone. She said he was distant and moody, and she just didn’t know how to talk to him. My heart broke for her, and it broke for Brody as well.
Reaching beside me, I grab onto her hand. “Give him time, Casey. And love. That’s all you can do. ”
Putting on a brave face, she gives a tremulous smile and changes the subject. “Enough of that… So, let’s hear your pitch. Today is the day my girl is going big time. ”
Just the thought of making my pitch causes my nerves to fire into overdrive, and my heart starts beating erratically.
Because yes… today is the day I’m putting in a bid to do a huge construction project and, if it gets accepted, it will help to change the course of my future. I need this job to solidify my resume and show that I can work in the big leagues. I need someone desperately to take a chance on me… to give me a shot so I can prove that I can compete with all the men in this industry.
And the thing that really has me freaked is that it’s none other than Hunter Markham that I’m going to submit my bid to. The man who I once thought I loved and now still loathe with most of my being.
Why am I going to Hunter Markham with something so important? Well, let’s just call it lack of options at this point. I’ve been repetitively outbid and overlooked by every major project that I’ve submitted to in the past three years. I’m hoping the fact that I’m best friends with Hunter’s sister, and that our families have been close for years, will give me a leg up.
I have no clue though, what to expect. I haven’t really spoken that much to Hunter since our “encounter” five years ago. He left for Australia just three days after that disastrous kiss and essentially trotted the globe for the next five years, competing on the ASP World Tour.
At twenty-eight, it was a bit of a surprise that Hunter decided to retire from the sport. He was surfing the best of his life and just last year had become the number two-ranked surfer in the world. He was swimming in cash, swimming in women, and swimming in fame. I never asked, but Casey always kept me updated, even though mention of him caused a tiny pang of hurt to lance through me each time.
Without any warning or reason, he retired from the surfing world and returned home to open up a beach bar. He purchased Salty’s, a popular oceanfront bar in Nags Head that had started to get rundown and neglected, mainly because poor Salty had a coke habit that sucked up all his money and time. Hunter came in, did a quick refurbish, and had a grand re-opening last month. He renamed it Last Call, and it looked like it was going to be quite a success. He also had big plans to expand onto the existing structure.
Of course, it didn’t escape my notice that his return home coincided with Brody’s return home, but it was just my guess that he wanted to be there to help his twin acclimate to the world. And yes, that made my heart pitter-patter a tiny bit, but then I hardened it up again. Hunter Markham didn’t deserve to have my heart doing anything other than sneering at him in the future.
So, even though it made me nervous to do so, I pulled out the binder that I would be handing over to Hunter in about three hours, and opened it up to show Casey and Alyssa. I spent the next thirty minutes going over my pitch with them and explaining the budget on the bid. I also showed them the architect’s plans that Hunter had given me, including a few potential design changes that I wanted to suggest that would help keep the bid low but would functionally be better suited for what he had planned.
When I was finished, Casey whistled between her teeth. “Damn girl… I have to tell you… that’s just hot the way you talk all those numbers and construction terms. I’d do you in a heartbeat. ”
Chuckling, I punch her lightly on the arm. “Thanks, Case. Leave it up to you to turn my bid into something sexual. ”
Laughing in that husky, sexy way of hers, she says, “Hey… if ‘sexual’ will help you land the bid, I’m all for it. ”
“Eww,” I groan. “This is your brother we’re talking about. This is professional, not sexual. ”
Casey gives me a small flick of her finger on my nose. “Lighten up, Gabs. It’s just Hunter. It’s not like he’s going to jump your bones or anything. ”
Even after five years, the mere fact that she called me Gabs causes my stomach to tighten at the memory of Hunter calling me that. I’m surprised that Casey does so now, because that name was only used by Hunter. He had been calling me that since I was a kid.
Shaking my head, I turn to Alyssa. “Let me get a serious opinion. What do you think?”
Alyssa gives me a confident smile. “It’s wonderful, Gabby. Truly. I think Hunter is going to be very impressed. ”
“Really?” I ask, hopeful that I truly have a shot at this. “You’re not just saying that?”
“Really,” she assures me.
“Absolutely,” Casey chimes in. “Hunter will be blown away. Plus, he’s always had a soft spot for you. He’ll give you preference just because of that. ”
I can’t stop myself from practically sneering. “He most certainly doesn’t have a soft spot for me. ”
Casey raises her eyebrows. “He does, although I’m not sure why. It’s like the minute you turned eighteen, all of your friendly joking around with him took a nosedive, and y’all are just at each other’s throats whenever you’re around each other. ”
That much is true. While Hunter traveled much of the year, he was always home for a few months during his off-season between December and March. I always tried to stay out of his way, but seeing as how Casey and I are best friends, it was inevitable I would run into him on occasion. During those times, I will admit… he tried to be nice. But I was always snapping at him, or saying something condescending. He would be surprised at first, but then he’d give back as good as I gave him. Before you knew it, we were always fighting like cats and dogs. Over the years, it sort of became natural, and while we did our best to avoid each other, when we couldn’t help having contact, it was never very pleasant for any involved.
The only interaction that didn’t involve spiteful words was when my dad died. Hunter surprised me by coming home for the funeral, even though he was heavy into the tour. My catty comments sort of stuck deep in my throat when he came up to me at the funeral and pulled me into a hug. He rested his chin on top of my head and quietly said, “I’m so sorry, Gabs. I loved your father, too. ”
I couldn’t help the tears that formed in my eyes over his kind words, and I wanted to hate him in that moment, but I just couldn’t. Instead, I pulled away without saying anything, walked over to my mom, and never left her side after that. Hunter never approached me again, and then he left the next day. After that, we were back to fighting like normal.
Breaking into my thoughts, Casey says,
“I know you two don’t particularly care for each other, but he always asks about you. Every email or time he’s ever called, he always asks how “Gabs” is doing. He does care for you, even if he doesn’t know how to show it. ”
I mentally snort to myself, and then throw in a mental eye roll just for good measure. Gah… if Casey ever knew the depth of my anger toward Hunter, she’d be stunned. But she would never know that because I would never admit to her that I used to love her jackass of a brother and then had my heart broken by him.
That would be my secret until I went to the grave.
Now, all I had to do was be nice to him for the potential hour it would take me to make my bid and answer any questions he might have. It would kill me, but I would be polite and professional. I would make him see that I was the best person for the job… my lack of a penis be damned.
2
I sit at the bar and watch my brother as he carries case after case of beer from the storeroom and stocks the coolers. He’s methodical yet efficient as he stacks bottle after bottle.
He’s also quiet.
So f**king quiet.
Closing my eyes, I try to remember the Brody that left for prison because he killed a man. Happy, funny, and lighthearted. I wonder if I’ll ever see that man again, and my heart shrivels just considering the possibility that he’s gone forever.
I want to get him to talk to me, but chances of that happening right this very minute are slim. We just had a major f**king fight, causing me to yell at him. He didn’t engage… just quietly told me that he was sorry, and turned around to stock the beer.
I thought I was doing the right thing. I thought it would make him happy. I know it would make me happy.
Foolishly, I met him at Last Call first thing this morning, excited about my proposition.
“Brody,” I had told him, a warm smile on my face. “I’d like you to be partners with me. Fifty-fifty ownership of Last Call. ”
Foolishly, I expected him to smile at me. The first smile I would have seen on his face… the face that was identical to mine, for the first time in five years. Instead, he stared at me blankly for a moment and then said, “No thanks. ”
What the f**k? No thanks?
No amount of begging, pleading, or cajoling could get him to consider. He just quietly… so very f**king quietly, thanked me but said he was happy just having the job that I gave him. He didn’t want to be partners with me. Said he didn’t deserve it.
It didn’t matter that I yelled and cursed at him, calling him an ingrate, which I instantly regretted. I immediately apologized, and he just nodded his head at me and grabbed the first case of beer from the store shelf.
Now I watch him as he’s lost in his own thoughts, while he stacks a case of Budweiser. I wonder what he’s thinking. Is he remembering that night? When he killed that man?
Or is he remembering what it was like to live life in a six-by-eight steel and brick box?
Does he ever think about what his life was like before? Because he surely isn’t giving much thought to what his life could be like now.
Sighing in frustration, I glance down at my watch and see that Gabby Ward is due here in a few minutes. Just the thought of her causes my stomach to clench, and not in a good way.
I’m nervous as f**k about seeing her… about trying to carry on a normal conversation with her, without one or both of us snapping at the other. It’s been our pattern for the last five years. Ever since she blew my mind with that hot-as-fuck kiss, and I metaphorically slapped her in the face with my rebuff.
God, if I could go back and change that day, I would. She threw me for a loop when she kissed me, and I responded the way I had thought about kissing her for the longest time. For a few seconds, I engaged in the best kiss I’ve ever had in my entire life… a kiss that has never been equaled since. Then I reacted horribly and put hurt in her eyes that has never left. Because while she hides behind mockery and condescension, I still see the pain that lives just below the surface.