Two Bar Mitzvahs (10 page)

She lifted a corner of her mouth in an attempt to smile but it fell. “I hate that you have to see her. I don’t like
any
authority she has over us.”

“She doesn’t have authority over us. Not real power.”

“Okay, but I can’t promise that I won’t get frustrated. Or angry, if she keeps pulling stunts like she did today. Or want to knock Madison on her ass.” She gave out a dry laugh. “I may need more puppy therapy.”

With care not to wake Ava, I lifted her limp body and tucked her into a far corner of the bed, up against the pillows. Then I sidled next to Hannah. “Actually, if we have this discussion again, we need to ramp up the method of therapy.”

She smiled, then bit her lip. Her gaze dropped to my mouth, then lifted to my eyes. “Oh? And what’s the next step above puppy therapy?”

I leaned forward, giving her a hard kiss.

Hannah moaned.

The kiss wasn’t an answer in and of itself, but I needed the contact.

I pulled back and sucked on her lower lip before releasing it. “I’m thinking the next step above puppy therapy is kitchen-island-condiment therapy.” When I’d first teased her about it, I’d imagined her on her kitchen island. And had told her so.

Her body shuddered. Had she pictured herself naked, exactly as I’d described? I hoped so. I imagined her shivering for my touch, waiting for me to cover her with various condiments before slowly licking her body clean.

I sucked in a breath, the fantasy affecting me.

A seductive smile curved her lips. “And if that doesn’t work?”

I barked out a laugh. “If I can’t make you forget the chaos in the middle of it, then I’m ditching the rest of the world, kidnapping your sexy ass, and we’re doing private-island therapy.”

“Mmm…” She nestled close, pressing her lips into my neck. “
Love
that idea. Let’s go now.”

I chuckled. “So tempting.”

She wanted to chuck the rest of the world and have life as we knew it be about only her and me. I did too. But not yet.

I wasn’t about to fly off to a private island on our first vacation because either of us needed therapy. We had events to plan, businesses to run, in spite of a potential nuisance. Then we would make time for play.

***

Later that night, after I’d dropped Hannah off at her place, I stretched out in bed listening to “Hurricane” by Thirty Seconds to Mars. Sure as fuck felt appropriate. Chaos. Emotion.

I sighed heavily, staring at my ceiling. I never expected life to be easy. But Hannah and I were due for some kind of an easy stretch after the struggles we’d had. Hers. Mine. Ours.

My phone vibrated, and my heart jumped. I smiled, thinking Hannah wanted to wish me a good night. Would the text have three naughty little dots? Our secret code always made me smile.

Fuck.

Not Hannah. Madison.

“Really?” I grumbled into the darkness as the song ended, leaving me in silence. “Is all this shit some kind of test? Because I didn’t sign on for this.”

I wanted to be with Hannah. Only Hannah. Yet all this garbage threatened to taint our new relationship.

Frustrated, I clicked into my phone to read the text.

Hey, Cade. Sorry about today. You were angry. I should have told you.

Fuck yeah, you should have.
I slammed the phone back down on my nightstand. For a moment, I considered not replying. But when all I did was get more pissed, I grabbed the damned thing and fired off a reply.

You’re right. You said you’ve changed. Prove it with actions. No more surprises.

I hit {
SEND
} and was about to put the phone down when a reply came through.

Could we meet for coffee again?

I sighed, struggling with my thoughts. I’d grown up with Madison. In hindsight, she burned through guy after guy as we grew up. Then she turned to me to figure out what went wrong. Once we’d crossed the friend line in college and our relationship grew into long term, I felt lucky being the guy she chose—at least I’d thought I was. I had planned on spending my life with her. There
was
good in her. Back then, I’d fallen in love with that part of her.

But what I didn’t know then was that need can change a person from the inside out—addiction can be a bitch.

Convinced clear boundaries were needed, I replied.

No. I have a girlfriend. Meeting privately is off the table.

Wide awake, I waited. No way I’d be able to sleep until I knew she understood. Her reply came through.

Coffee isn’t meeting privately. It’s public. Drinks and talking. But I understand. We need to meet for business soon anyway. It will have to do. I’ll email details.

Did she understand? With all the mixed signals between vulnerable Madison and business Madison, I sure as hell didn’t.

Another week later, we all sat at Kristen’s dining room table, planning for Invitation Only. I pinched my nose, grumpy as hell. Thank fuck, other than one business email, I hadn’t heard from Madison again. I also hadn’t seen much of Hannah either. With my covering for vacationing bartenders at Loading Zone, and Hannah’s bakery exploding with orders, we’d had to cancel all of our nightly dinners, and we’d only been able to get together once.

Then tonight, after an hour had been wasted at Kristen’s, we hadn’t gotten shit done. I needed to get the calendar straight. In a week, we had the one-year anniversary of Loading Zone, the following weekend was Mom and Dad’s Fourth of July party at their country estate, and the weekend after, the double bar mitzvah.

“Focus, people.” I glared at Hannah and my sisters, who chattered away about nonessential things. “Kiki, you said invitations went out for Loading Zone’s party?”

She nodded while she stirred her root beer float. “Three weeks ago. But you said you wanted to fill the place to capacity. We were two hundred RSVPs short with Loading Zone’s contacts and your filtered country club member list, so I went to your website and installed a banner to advertise.”

I sighed. Exclusive meant picking and choosing guests. But the event was to benefit charity, and anyone who wanted to pay two hundred and fifty dollars a head to help those in need would be welcomed.

“Hannah, you got the cake covered? Nothing fancy like the last charity event, more fun and casual.” I glanced at her.

She gave me a warm smile. “Got it covered.”

Tight deadlines sucked ass. Fitting into calendars of the social elite was difficult enough without short notice. When Kristen had initially said five weeks out for the dual event, the time to plan seemed like forever. However, Ben asked me last week to take over some of the details for the bar event, which had sent me scrambling. Then, to add fuel to the fire, Mom and Dad sprung their summer party on us.

Suddenly the “forever” deadline of the bar mitzvahs loomed on our doorstep. We had a million things to do and not enough people to carry them out without meticulous planning.

“Loading Zone’s DJ, Darren, can handle the playlist for the anniversary event. In fact, I may bring Darren to the bar mitzvahs.”

Kristen shook her head. “Are you kidding? A DJ in one room and not the other? The kid left without will be jealous. Then we’ll have a livid mom on our hands.”

“Right. Either no live DJ, or we have two.” I nodded.

Then I shot off a quick email to Darren:

Hey, man. Need you to run soundtrack or hire DJs for two parties. One theme is AC/DC. The other, Justin Bieber. No, you read right. I’ll owe you one. And make sure things are tight for next weekend at LZ.

I clicked back to my master to-do list. “Next. Almost nothing’s been done for Mom and Dad’s gig.”

Kristen shouted from the kitchen as she retrieved another round of beers from the fridge. “What do they want?” Seconds later she returned, sliding the bottles across the dining table. Then she went over to the couch, plopped down, sprawled out, and closed her eyes.

Mom hadn’t called Kristen to ask us to run her party—she’d called me. (Anything business related, mom always called me.) “The usual. Dress code: pool party. Which means waiters wearing tuxes in the sweltering heat while they serve bonbons to a star-studded cast lounging in the sun. She instructed me to have fireworks ‘shooting shimmering colors over the water.’ Sure, no problem, Mom. Piece of cake. Oh, and she wants it on Saturday, even though the Fourth is on a Friday.”

Kendall asked, “You can do fireworks in two weeks?”

“That part I’ve already secured. Fireworks, furniture, and the bar are all set. The rest of it needs to be scheduled: food, serving staff, and entertainment.”

Kristen laughed. “I’ll talk to her. There’s no way we’ll put waiters in tuxes for a pool party. She forgets we’ve got our own style, and she needs to trust our judgment. Besides, we aren’t torturing the help.”

“So what’s the alternative?” I glanced up, a smirk curling my lips. “Shirtless cabana boys?”

Kiki and Kendall burst out laughing. Kristen snorted. “Yeah, good luck with that.”

Hannah leaned forward. “No, wait a minute. That’s a great idea.”

Everyone quieted, staring at her.

She continued, “Think about it. Shirtless men with tousled hair and ripped abs, wearing board shorts and flip flops.”

Kristen coughed, sputtering out her beer. “Flip flops? Have you met my mother? There’s no way she’ll let her society friends see the serving staff’s hairy toes.”

Kiki choked out a laugh.

Hannah slowly shook her head. “I guarantee you: no woman will be looking at their feet. They won’t make it past the sexy V of their obliques slipping into their waistbands.”

Under the table, Hannah suddenly trailed a finger along my waistband, then slid it below the edge of my jeans. I swallowed hard at the unexpected action, and for several seconds, forgot what she’d been talking about.

My sisters stared at Hannah, not for her left-field suggestion, but because they were actually considering it.

Kudos to Hannah for her ballsy creativity. Made perfect sense. The one to shake things up when we got stuck in our high-society mold would be the one who hadn’t been tarnished by it.

One by one, the girls all smiled.

“And who would be finding these oblique-sporting men?” Kiki’s eyes lit up.

Hannah grinned. “We would, of course. Feel like a slumber party tomorrow night at my place?”

Kristen arched a brow. “And Cade is cool with you sorting through man-candy?”

Yeah. Don’t forget about
your
oblique-sporting man.

Hannah glanced at me and winked. Then she swept her gaze toward the three of them. “Sure. I had to watch him pick out models as bunnies for Dwight’s Easter debauchery. I was quite the good sport about it, if I remember correctly.”

I narrowed my eyes at her. “You’ve planned this all along, haven’t you?”

She nudged my shoulder. “No. But it sure helps my case, doesn’t it?”

Kristen nodded once, then sat up on the couch and slapped her bare knees. “I’m in. And I’ll make sure Mom is prepared. I just need to convince her that the female guests will be happy to be surrounded by their fantasies come to life.”

“Plus, Cade can help us.” Hannah planted a chaste kiss on my cheek.

“Excuse me?” I blinked, certain I’d misheard.

“You have a knack for picking the best people. You don’t want us distracted by good looks alone, do you?”

I grumbled a string of obscenities under my breath. “I think I’m gonna be busy. I’m planning a guys’ night in my head as we speak.”

Kiki groaned. “
Caaade
. We need your help.”

I leaned back and crossed my arms. “I’m confident your combined logic will trump your collective libidos.”

Kristen put her beer on the table. “Any tips? Or are you gonna let us fly blind here?”

“Call the modeling agencies. Have them email you their portfolio of sports models. Tell them what qualifications you’re looking for, and they’ll filter on their end first.”

Kendall grabbed her pen and jotted down a note. “I’ll do that. How many will we need?”

I scanned the email to confirm the headcount. “Mom’s invited two hundred guests. Twelve should cover it, but we should hire fifteen to be safe.”

The last unresolved issue glared at me, the cursor blinking in front of it like a ticking time bomb. “Last item: Madison emailed this morning.” Even though she knew damn well I didn’t want to work with her directly. “She mandated we meet this week at her club for a sampling of the menu, linen, and setting choices, among other things.” The tone in the email had been hard-edged Madison. She was becoming an ex-girlfriend version of “Jekyll & Hyde.”

Kristen tilted her head at my dread-filled monotone. “There’s nothing unusual about that. It’s done all the time in the industry.”

I clenched my jaw. “She made the stipulation that I come alone.”