Two Bar Mitzvahs (8 page)

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Authors: Kat Bastion with Stone Bastion

Tags: #Romance

BOOK: Two Bar Mitzvahs
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An attractive redhead stepped into my line of sight, making eye contact with me as she approached our table. “The Michaelson party?”

I nodded, watching a smile flirt across her face. She held my gaze a few beats longer than necessary before acknowledging the rest of the group. I dropped my head and stared to my right, sending a pointed look at Kristen with an unspoken request, one I knew she heard loud and clear with her imperceptible nod. Hannah was here. And even if she wasn’t, I had no interest in any other woman on the planet. We needed to douse Little Miss Redhead’s interest with an ice-cold bucket of water.

“I’m Suzanne Bradshaw. I understand you want a tour of the facilities.”

Kristen gathered her paperwork into a pile, tapped the stack onto the table, and stood, extending her hand. “I’m Kristen Michaelson. These are my sisters, Kiki and Kendall.” She pointed at each of us as she said our names. “This is my brother, Cade, and his girlfriend, Hannah.”

We nodded at our introductions except for Kiki, who gave a friendly single-handed wave.

When we began to stand, Suzanne seemed to take the “girlfriend” clue to heart, gravitating toward Kristen, who’d agreed to pilot this meeting. I’d promised to coordinate the actual event. But a frou-frou luncheon with a boring tour? All hers.

I stood and pulled Hannah’s chair away as my sisters followed Suzanne. I tugged Hannah’s elbow, holding her back, until we had a good fifteen-foot gap between us and the tour caravan. “I’ll keep on the lookout for potential closets. You scope out promising dark corners.”

She’d brought along her half-full beer, and I took the bottle from her, shifting it to my other hand as I wrapped an arm around her shoulder.

“You’re incorrigible.” Shaking her head, she looked left, then leaned back to look beyond me after we entered the main building through open French doors. “So how dark is dark enough?”

I choked out a laugh. “Really? Your hard limits don’t include exhibitionism?”

“I don’t know. Maybe we should find out.”

As the rest of the group rounded the corner, I crowded her up against the nearest wall, in plain view of the dining patio guests twenty feet away. “Here? Now?”

She gasped as I pressed my mouth to her neck. Sliding a hand up a bare thigh, I lifted her short hem inches at a time. Thank fuck she’d decided to wear a sundress. She moaned her reply.

Yeah, we played a seductive game of chicken. Lust tried to overrule my brain, sending us full speed ahead. Yet there was only so far we could take indecency before a club member had us kicked out. A restraining order would make it impossible for us to hold the event here and cause us to lose a well-paying client.

Fuck
. If only we’d crashed a random country club. Then I’d be down for all kinds of rule breaking and testing Hannah’s limits.

I sighed, dropping my forehead to hers. Her breathless pants matched mine until oxygen filtered back into our brains. “We are
so
scouting out a country club we never plan on doing business with.”

Confusion wrinkled her face. “What?”

“Are you two coming?” Kendall popped her head around the corner.

No. But we’d like to be.

Like good little event-planning teammates, we caught up and followed along with the group, feigning interest in the architectural details and coveted pieces of art as Suzanne pointed them out.

Yada. Yada. We know, Pilgrims on the Mayflower. Provenance back to Ben Franklin.

We get it. You’re important.

After the nickel tour of priceless artifacts ended, we finally got down to the nitty-gritty. Kristen flipped open her manila file folder, bending the cover back behind a yellow lined notepad. “When we spoke over the phone about room possibilities, you said we had a couple of options.”

Suzanne nodded, stepping down the hall. “You said you had two parties for a set of twins. We could do both in one room. This is our largest available that evening.” She opened double doors into a sizable space.

Scowling, I glanced at Kristen. “You want a battle of the bands? Heavy rock versus teen pop?”

Kristen shook her head at Suzanne. “No. What’s the other option?”

It had better be doable. From what Kristen had explained, the client wanted the event here. On that day and on their perfect time schedule.

“This way. We have neighboring rooms, both equal in size.”

Perfect.

After a quick check of each of the rooms, Kristen glanced at me, deferring to my judgment before agreeing. I gave her a nod, then shoved my hands into my front pockets and turned to leave. My work for the afternoon was essentially done.

The place would do. Although stuffier than most country clubs, my family’s club was only more tolerable by a matter of degree. They were all archaic establishments. But for the sake of serving as museums of times gone by, overflowing with fancy historical accessories to prove it, I supposed they served their purpose. Time capsules with ridiculous little sandwiches.

Plus, many events the bored wealthy members held were charitable functions to benefit the less fortunate. And I fully supported the means to that end.

Barbra Streisand once said at a concert I saw on TV, “Money is like manure; it’s not worth a thing unless you spread it around…” When I repeated the phrase later to my charitable mother, she’d informed me that Streisand first said the line in the musical
Hello, Dolly!

I did not confirm that fact. The only musicals I agreed to tolerate were the future ones Hannah had committed me to. And said rare event would only take place because Hannah suggested we might have sex there. Damn. My mind kept guttering.

“Feel like attending any musicals in the near future?” I wondered if she remembered our discussion at my mom’s charity event all those months ago.

Her eyes glittered with amusement. “Sure. Why don’t I pick out the musical, and you can pick out the seats. Something in a dark corner, I’m guessing.”

Chasing her out into the hall, I wrapped my arms around her, growling low against her neck. “Have I told you lately how much I love you?”

She glanced at the ceiling as we walked along, pretending to think. “Nope. Not since right before lunch.”

“Well, I do. I fucking love you.”

The ostentatious airs of our surroundings must’ve affected her brain, because she lifted her nose a little into the air, pulling away from me. “Well, I should certainly hope so. I won’t ride just anybody during live musicals.”

I halted abruptly. “
Fuck
.”

Hannah broke away and turned, staring at me with a sly expression. Damned woman thoroughly enjoyed throwing me off-balance.

My sisters’ voices grew louder as they stepped into the hallway, scattering our naughty vibe into the stale air.

Something pricked at the back of my neck. I couldn’t put a definable reason to the change, but it had nothing to do with losing our moment of fun.

A woman rushed down the hall and entered a far door we hadn’t gone through. Then an older woman followed the first, scanning down a clipboard in her left hand as she stood in the entry to the unseen room. “Maddie, the mayor will be here at four.”

I frowned and stared toward the doorway.
It couldn’t be.
I shook my head, feeling like a paranoid idiot.

Fate wouldn’t be that twisted.

Hannah clasped my hand, and I stared into her joy-filled eyes.

In my peripheral vision, movement caught my attention, and I glanced back down the hall.

Out of the doorway walked the only “Maddie” I’d ever known: Madison Kensington.

Another coincidence? They were beginning to stack up.

8
Ghost of Valentine’s Past

In the wide hallway, the walls started to close in on me. I blew out the breath I’d been holding.
Holy shit.
When Madison said she worked at a country club, I should’ve asked
which
country club. How the fuck did I miss that detail? Oh, now I remember. Sex addiction. That’s where I’d gotten thrown.

Madison shifted her attention, making eye contact with me, and stopped in her tracks. She held my gaze while speaking with her two companions. A moment later, they rushed down the hall in the opposite direction.

Suspicious, I narrowed my eyes. The situation felt like a showdown at the high-society corral. I’d be fucked if I made contact and fucked if I didn’t. Ingrained mistrust for the blonde staring at me, waiting for me to make a move, tanked the high I had from the last few minutes.

“Cade, is everything okay? Who is that?” Hannah put a gentle hand on my back.

Not daring to take Madison out of my sight, I snarled, “That, Maestro, is my ex.”

“Seriously?”

“I had no clue she worked at
this
country club. I need to find out what’s going on.” And yet, I remained rooted in place, needing to get my bearings.

Actually, maybe our meeting by chance was a good thing. I could get a more defined feel on my suspicions. But I didn’t like being blindsided by her presence. And I sure as shit didn’t like Madison and Hannah under the same roof. Things felt out of control. Volatile.

Hannah stood proudly by my side, resilient. She crossed her arms, chin up, shoulders back, her body loose but confident.

I glanced at my sisters, who remained a few feet away. They faced us with relaxed stances, but their easygoing demeanor was a front. I’d caught the suspicious narrowing of their eyes. I centered my gaze on Kristen. With an imperceptible nod, Kristen signaled me; she had my back.

A smile appeared on Kristen’s face, one I’d seen a thousand times when she geared up to ask our parents for permission to do something she knew they wouldn’t ordinarily approve of. “Hannah, why don’t you join us? Suzanne’s about to show us the salon and spa area.”

Suzanne nodded with a cheerful grin, oblivious to the thickening tension in the hallway. “I can even get each of you complimentary treatments for the morning of the event, if you’d like.”

Hannah glanced up at me. Everything was there in her eyes: pride, worry, confusion, love. I focused on the last. Her love—all that mattered.

Sudden fierceness flared in her eyes, and she leaned in, whispering, “I’m right there with you, Cade. If she’s reformed, fine. But if she’s Selfish Bitch, I
will
knock her on her ass.”

I barked out an unexpected laugh at the reminder of the mocking nickname. “Thanks, Maestro. Thank you for knowing exactly what I need.” I bent down and brushed my lips across hers. “Go. Find out what kind of spa these mint-julep drinkers run.”

She smiled and turned as I playfully swatted her ass. While I took a steadying breath, she got swallowed up into the protective embraces of my sisters. They all laughed seconds later.
Good.
I counted on my crew to keep my girl smiling.

After they rounded the corner, I turned around to face Madison again.

She stood there in all her shellacked glory, proud and immovable. In her element, she resembled the old Madison. Confident. Not in any way the vulnerable coffeehouse version.

I strolled down the hall, assessing her as best I could with a fresh perspective. Common sense told me she held an obvious managerial role, but warning sirens blared in my head that her being in the hallway at the exact moment of our tour couldn’t possibly be a coincidence.

I had no illusions about the situation. Lakemont Country Club was clearly her territory, and she was in a position of power with whatever knowledge she held and I didn’t.

“Madison.” I stopped three feet away, dropping my hands in my pockets. I had no desire to touch her, and she needed to understand that fact with no room for misinterpretation.

The artificial smile that had been curved onto her face faltered. “No ‘hello’? Are we not able to be friends yet?”

I sighed. Did I really need to go through the motions of something I didn’t feel? “Not yet. I’m still trying to figure out how we’re standing in the same hallway.”

Her mouth tightened, spreading into a thin line. “It’s good to see you too, Cade. You look great.”

My jaw tensed, but I worked it loose, forcing myself to relax. “You’re here, I’m here. How do you
propose
we coexist in the same space professionally? That’s all I’m interested in.”

Her gaze swept down my body and back up. Her lips twisted into a smirk. “I don’t know, Cade. You tell me?”

The question was rhetorical, laced with heavy sexual undertones. Which pissed me the fuck off. Yet in this game, I didn’t hold the cards, she did. Until there was no reason not to, I would play nice. Even though my gut told me she wanted to do everything besides, regardless of her request to be friends. “What’s your position here?” I needed to know what kind of minefield I had to navigate.

“General Manager.”

Fuck
.

Impressive, and shocking. Either she’d fast-tracked her education and experience in the two years she’d been away, or she’d taken advantage of more efficient ways of advancement. The latter thought may have been callous, but I had no misconception about what she was capable of. And using her body to climb to the top wouldn’t have surprised me, sexual addiction or not.

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