I shivered. We stood shoulder-to-shoulder, facing in opposite directions, which mirrored our entire relationship. I smelled him, felt his warmth, was reminded of other occasions when he’d whispered in my ear.

Jax knew how to seduce and he never shirked the effort. Even when I’d been a sure thing, he’d get me hot long before he took me to bed. Giving me long, searing looks, touching me often, murmuring naughty promises that made me blush.

“Are you celibate, Jax?” I retorted.

“I will be, if you are.”

A harsh laugh burst out of me. “Yeah, right.”

He held my gaze. “Try me.”

“I’m not interested in playing games.”

The doorknob rattled, making me jump. “Gianna? Are you in there?”

Vincent. “Yes,” I called out. “Hang on.”

“Don’t fuck him,” Jax repeated, his eyes dark and hard. “I mean it, Gia.”

I shook free and fumbled the lock open, pulling the door wide.

My brother paused with the office key in his hand, then glared over my shoulder at Jax. “You got a death wish, Rutledge?”

Rolling my eyes, I pushed Vincent back. “Leave it alone.”

“Sniff around somewhere else,” Vincent went on, blocking the doorway as soon as I moved out of the way.

I briefly considered intervening, then decided against it. They were big boys. They could figure it out by themselves.

When I got back to the dining room, I found a large to-go bag sitting on the table in front of Chad, who stood when he saw me.

“What do you think about taking this back to the hotel and eating in peace?” he asked.

I looked around the dining room, easily spotting Stacy’s bright hair gleaming in the muted glow of the wrought-iron chandeliers. She was staring daggers at Chad and me.

“I’ve got a better idea,” I said, grabbing my belongings. “I know someplace we can go where no one will find us.”

* * *

I TOOK HIM to my sister-in-law Denise’s beauty salon in Brooklyn. She closed up shop, found some paper plates and we feasted on lukewarm-but-still-delicious ragù bolognese in the stylists’ lounge in back, away from the smells of dye and hair spray.

“You’ve got a New York accent,” Chad noted after we’d been swapping crazy customer stories for a while. “I never noticed before.”

I shrugged. “Yeah. As heard on TV in ten thousand cop shows.”

Chad laughed.

“It’s because she’s on her own turf,” Denise explained.

I didn’t add anything. No biggie that he’d noticed. The accent always came out when I was hanging with family or friends, when my defenses were relaxed and I felt more like the me I used to be.

“It’s cute,” he teased, exaggerating his own. “Y’all know I’ve got one, too.”

“She’s gotten good at hiding it,” Denise said, her platinum hair with hot pink tips arranged into artful braids. She had piercings in her nose and brow, and a sleeve of tattoos on her left arm. She was also five months pregnant and just beginning to show. I was so excited about that. I was dying to be an aunt.

My smartphone started ringing in my purse, and I reached over to the counter to dig it out. Maybe Lei needed me after all. She hadn’t been kidding about the hours when she’d hired me. I’d had 2:00 a.m. calls and weekend calls, but I loved them all because those happened when she was really pumped about something.

Looking at the screen, I didn’t recognize the New York number and was about to let it go to voice mail when I decided to indulge Chad with my accent a little more.

“Gianna Rossi’s office,” I answered naturally. “How can I help you?”

Silence greeted me, then... “Gia.”

I held my breath, rocked by the way Jax said my name. The way he used to when we were lovers and he’d call just to hear my voice.

“Say something,” he said gruffly.

Fortified by the sight of my stricken face in the unforgiving mirror, I replied with chilly calm. “How did you get this number?”

“Give me a break,” he snapped. “Talk like you used to. The real you.”

“You’re the one who called me.”

He bit out something under his breath. “Have lunch with me tomorrow.”

“No.” I slid out of the chair and walked toward the front of the beauty shop.

“Yes, Gia. We need to talk.”

“I don’t have anything to say to you.”

“Then listen.”

I rubbed the tip of my stiletto over a crack in a floor tile. Denise had just started turning a profit and there were improvements she wanted to make to the shop. Still, the location was newly hip again and she’d been smart to go with gorgeous vintage pinups on the walls and great retro décor that distracted the eye from minor flaws.

God, I was a mess over Jax. My scattered brain was bouncing random thoughts all over the place.

I focused on the man driving me crazy. “If I have lunch with you, will you go away and leave me alone?”

“I won’t promise that.”

“Then I won’t go,” I countered. “You’ve got no right to invade my life like this. None of this is your business. You shouldn’t be butting in—”

“Damn it. I didn’t know you were in love with me, Gia.”

My eyes closed against the pain of hearing those words from his lips. “If that’s true, you didn’t know me at all.”

I hung up.

Chapter 5

“I FOUND SOMETHING tying Pembry with the Rutledges,” I told Lei first thing Friday morning, following her into her office as she arrived for the day. “An article in FSR magazine.”

She glanced aside at me. “How long have you been here?”

“Half an hour, maybe.” But I’d been up late doing my homework, unable to sleep. I needed to know why Jax was meddling in my life and how to get him back out of it again.

I didn’t want an apology from him or an explanation. I didn’t want to be friends. I didn’t want any reason to hope, because it’d become painfully obvious to me that I was still in love with him. And now, he was becoming aware of it, too.

I’d learned my lesson the first time, and he’d confirmed it—our relationship had to end at some point. No do-overs.

I slid the article from Full-Service Restaurant across her desk. “A tiny mention of Pembry supporting and contributing to Rutledge campaigns in a bigger piece on restaurateurs and politics.”

“Hmm.” Her astute gaze lifted to meet mine. “I lived with Ian for five years. He never once voted in any election. And he’s too much of a tight-ass to spend the kind of money it takes to get the Rutledges’ personal attention.”

Lei leaned back, twisting her chair side to side. “That said,” she went on, “I can’t see a venture capitalist taking an interest in Ian’s business over mine without some personal motivation. It doesn’t make fiscal sense.”

Lifting my hands, I admitted, “I don’t get it, either.”

“Would Jackson tell you what sparked his interest in Ian if you asked him?”

“Maybe.” I took a seat in front of her desk. “But he’s not the deciding factor here. Stacy prefers Ian. Chad prefers us. We’ve got a grip on this.”

“Aren’t you curious?”

“Not enough to go out of my way to talk to him. He’s starting to realize I took our fling more seriously than I should have and that’s...awkward.”

Lei’s gaze was warm with sympathy. “I guess the best solution is to get this wrapped up. I’m talking with the team at Mondego today about moving forward with just Chad. They’re not as excited—no surprise there—but I think I have an appealing alternative.”

I leaned forward, and she smiled at my eagerness.

“These two.” She swiveled her monitor around to face me, revealing two very different women. One darkly exotic, the other a fresh-faced blonde. “I’ve been keeping my eye on them for a few months now. Isabelle, the brunette, specializes in regional Italian, while Inez, the blonde, has a flair for regional French.”

A soft laugh bubbled up. “Dueling kitchens international.”