Whiskey Sharp: Torn

  “Your dog? Our dog. I’m glad they were happy for you. I told Ian and Gregori this afternoon so you’ll want to tell Wren soon.”

  “Oh crap, that’s right. Hang on.” She called Wren. “Hi there!” she said when her friend answered. “I wanted to tell you when we were face-to-face but Gregori knows now because he had lunch with Beau and Ian so I figured I’d call. To tell you Beau and I are moving in together.”

  “That’s awesome,” Wren told her. “I can’t wait to hear all the details when we see you at the wedding on Saturday.”

  They chatted a minute or two more before she disconnected and turned her attention back to Beau. “Done. How was your day other than lunch with Gregori and Ian?”

  “Pretty excellent. After lunch I returned a call to my agent. I don’t even have to go to New York for the show pitch. The notes I sent, along with the cookbook-connected stuff was enough. I have a new series starting filming in the spring. It’ll hit the air about three months after that and coincide with the cookbook release. This will be my third so I’ve got the process down pretty well. I’ll spend about a week cooking and photographing all the dishes, and then send it all to my cookbook team and they’ll organize it into something awesome.”

  “Holy shit, that’s amazing!” She launched herself into his lap and rained kisses all over his face. “I’m so proud of you.” And happy to know he’d be working in Seattle instead of elsewhere. In their home, which would maybe be weird but he said it really wasn’t that bad so she’d trust him.

  “It’s a level of success I really appreciate, that’s for sure. I was thinking you should try your hand at doing the photography. I mean if you wanted to. I like your eye. More than that, you have a very what I like to think of as a Northwest perspective. I want that flavor to ring through on every level with this cookbook so I think you’d really capture that through your lens.”

  “Wow,” Cora said as she settled next to him again. Jezzy gave her the are you finished look and got back into her place in between them. “I’m wildly flattered but I hate to think of screwing up and tanking your sales. Shouldn’t you hire a professional?”

  “I want you. You understand what I mean by the feel of the entire project from an artistic standpoint. I’ve seen your work. It’s hard not to when I walk past it all the time.” He indicated one of the framed pieces she’d given him. His hands at work, one a blur as he tipped sliced vegetables into a bowl. She’d taken it while kneeling so the perspective was on the implied motion. The elegance of this basic thing he elevated with his own kind of magic.

  “You’re here with me. You take pictures all the time anyway, why not use them in the book? If they’re terrible I’ll hire someone else to fix it. Does that make you feel better?”

  “You really get me,” she said. It did. He wouldn’t let his feelings for her mess up his career. He’d fix it rather than be afraid to hurt her feelings and let the mistake go forward.

  “Sometimes. Not that I don’t find you a total surprise on a regular basis. But you want to do well and you want me to do well. Okay. We can agree that if I feel like your work isn’t right I won’t use it. Though I will compensate you so don’t argue.” Beau put a hand up and got his stern face on.

  “Then let me pay rent,” she countered.

  “Why would I do that? I don’t have a mortgage so I don’t need rent. This is your house too. You don’t need to spend money like that.”

  “People are going to think I’m using you for your money,” she said with a frown.

  “People who would clearly not know either one of us might. But everyone who matters would know the truth. I don’t need you to pay rent. If I did, you would, and that’s what’s important.”

  * * *

  “FINE,” SHE SAID in that way that meant it wasn’t fine at all. Beau, having known a few women in his day, watched her with wariness.

  He wanted her to accept this. Because he wanted to take care of her. Protect her and give her things. A good, safe life where she was adored and spoiled like she should be. He had it and after some years spending it like it was nothing, he realized no amount of retail therapy and bottle service would erase the privations of his childhood.

  Now he spent it in ways that pleased him in healthy ways. Cora Silvera was his finest thing. The best gift he’d ever received and he would treat her as such.

  “You said fine but you meant you were up to something and said it to fool me into relaxing while you plan my imminent demise.”

  That made her laugh and Jezzy started to wriggle when she wagged her entire butt at the sound.

  “You say it doesn’t matter and you might be right. But it feels like it matters when people make those assumptions about me. You have money, yes, but so do I. I don’t want you to ever feel like I’m freeloading. And I don’t want Ian to think it either. Or your manager.”

  In the past there had been men and women he’d dallied with who’d been dazzled by his money and celebrity. Who’d hinted about or outright requested jewelry or other expensive gifts. It hadn’t mattered to him because to be honest they hadn’t really mattered to him. So what was a bracelet or a designer dress? He got his sex on, played with his partners and moved on to the next one.

  “Ian doesn’t think that. He’s seen us together. Even if he didn’t know you and like you, he knows me. I don’t need to pay for pussy, for god’s sake. You aren’t some starfucker.”

  She threw up her hands, startling the dog in the process.

  “But there are starfuckers!”

  “Why are you mad about what you aren’t? At what no one thinks you are?” He truly didn’t understand why it mattered to her. But it clearly did. She was pissed off and defensive and that was no way to leave this between them. “Explain to me if you can,” he asked in a softer tone.

  “I haven’t had a real long-term relationship before. I had a thing a few years ago like I told you about, but really, it has nothing on this.” Cora waved a hand between them. “Growing up the way I did, with a famous mom and parents with money, people always blew me off. Like, oh she must have this job because of her family influence. I have had to prove myself over and over and, gah, I don’t know. But it pushes my buttons to have anyone think I don’t pull my weight. And you buy this umpty-jillion-dollar house and suddenly me and my dog are living here and not paying rent and it looks weird.”

  “There’s no rent to pay. You’re not my roommate. You don’t need to pay an entry fee to my life, Cora. What you add isn’t something easily quantified. It’s everything. It’s priceless.”

  “You’re more than your bank account or your face, gorgeous as it is. More than your cooking and your celebrity. I don’t think it’s an entry fee, I just don’t want to be perceived as harming you. Or taking advantage. Because you matter to me.”

  He took her face in his hands long enough to kiss her. “Baby. I am in love with you. I know your heart and there’s not a single part of you that would use me. Don’t you think I see that? I understand that you see all of me, not just the outside but my heart. It’s the reason you’re my everything. If you want to fill the house with art, you do all the work finding it. And all the wonderful life and color you carry with you, that’s all I require. Love me back. We’re actually saying the same things, you know. We just come at them a little differently.”

  She let out a shaky breath but then she smiled. “Okay, so how about this? Let me pay for whatever job you hire my dad to do. Believe me, he’s a great value no matter what he charges. Then I’ll feel a little more like this is my house too instead of me living in your house. And when I say I want to chip in for something I want you to accept it.”

  He thought about it and finally agreed because it was fair and he got her point, though he certainly considered this to be her house too.

  “Did we just make up?” he asked.

  “Were we fighting?”

 
“A little. I was pissed that you wouldn’t just let me do something nice for you and that you placed any importance on what some random person who didn’t know you thought. I wasn’t seeing why you were being so defensive. I have my own issues I guess,” he confessed.

  “I’m sorry people treat you like you’re just a pretty face. It is a pretty face. But you’re so damn much more. I never thought I’d have a happily-ever-after like you.”

  Naturally, Jezzy chose that moment to fart, sending them both scrambling off the couch with their stinky, flatulent dog running after them, barking her delight.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  My heart is the head of a river

  always leading me to you.

  RACHEL WAS ABSOLUTELY gorgeous in her wedding dress. Vic looked at her with so much love and happiness Cora had to hold back tears more than once, especially as they started saying their vows.

  She’d been there at the start, as Vic and Rachel had fallen in love. And watched over the last two years as that love had grown and deepened. They’d both been such wonderful friends to her, had given her an example of what a committed, working partnership was.

  And now they were married and having a baby girl in six months. By summer there’d be a new friend to snuggle and love. And she was there when it started. Well, not that part. But their romance and the first steps into their happily-ever-after.

  “May I have this dance?” Beau asked her as he approached.

  She took the hand he held out and he drew her close.

  “So glad I wore the really high heels or I’d be looking at your chest right now. Wait, that sounded like a complaint and really it’s not. I could happily look at your chest for hours. But now I can see into your eyes and your lips are close enough to kiss.”

  He gave her one, slow and sweet, to underline her point.

  “You look really beautiful in this dress,” he said as he pulled back from the kiss. “I’ve been to a few weddings but most of the bridesmaid outfits looked like costumes.”

  “Thank you. As little black dresses go, yes, it’s a great cocktail dress. I can wear it to events at the gallery, which is always nice. But you in a tux? I have plans to strip you out of it all James Bond style when we get home tonight.”

  His laughter tightened things low in her belly.

  “License to fuck you?” he asked in an undertone, his breath against her earlobe.

  “You qualify for expert rating, that’s all I’m saying.”

  Mrs. Orlova clucked over Rachel several times during the rest of the reception. Making sure she wasn’t tired. That she ate. It was so sweet, even if Irena was one of the scariest people on earth when she wanted to be. It made Cora happy to see Rachel spoiled and cared for the way she should be. Made her certain her friend’s future was a good one.

  “We were all a little lost when we first met. Rachel and Maybe had just moved here to Seattle and we clicked right away. They made me their sister. Made room for me in their lives and have been at my back. Each of us struck out on our own to make a life as grown-ups,” she told Beau. “First Maybe found a job and then love with Alexsei and then later, the healthier Rachel’s heart and mind got, the closer she and Vic became until it all fell into place like it was supposed to. I was on that plane back here from London, feeling lonely and adrift. Wanting some roots and security and to finally claim the direction I’ve wanted for years. And there you were.”

  “Lucky me, right? I show up to make dinner at a friend’s house, and then you walked in. I never believed in fate until that moment.”

  “We’re so schmoopy,” she told him through a big smile.

  “Is that a sex thing?” he asked.

  “Do you want it to be?”

  He hugged her closer. “I always want it to be a sex thing when it’s you.”

  “Damn, you have some of the best pantie dropper lines ever.”

  “If I let my game slip I might lose you to some suave younger guy. Gotta keep you buttered up and happy.”

  As if.

  The song ended and he took her back to their table, where Maybe and Alexsei were enjoying a glass of champagne.

  “Do you think your aunt could be convinced to try my cabbage rolls? I’ve been working on a recipe for a few years and Cora tells me she’s the one who made the ones we had tonight. She could give lessons,” Beau said to Alexsei after handing Cora a glass and clinking his to it.

  “She’ll be totally flattered. Lead with that line about the lessons and how it took you years and her recipe is still better,” Maybe said. “And listen, what person wouldn’t be flattered by you telling them that? Irena’s a very real person. She’ll sense that in you too.”

  “If not, she’ll tell you,” Alexsei said, tone dry, though he was totally serious.

  “How does she get along with Walda?” Beau asked, thinking that the two very strong women had a lot in common.

  Cora choked on her champagne. “They don’t. Get along I mean. It’s an old story and it has to do with bread. My mom is set in her ways and she didn’t take any care when she related her bakery preference to a woman who runs a family bakery. Then she got slapped for it and that was a thing for a while. But now mainly they ignore each other if and when they run into one another, which we try to keep rare.”

  “Irena was yelling in Russian and Walda was yelling back in Portuguese. It was scary because they’re both pretty intense people. But it was also fascinating, and even though I only understood about a third of what was being said, I wanted to just watch and eat some popcorn. Don’t tell Irena I said that though.” Maybe looked quickly over to where both of Vic’s parents stood speaking with the newlyweds.

  The wedding and reception that had followed were very much indicative of who Beau had come to know Rachel and Vic to be. Intimate and small. Less than forty people total. He hadn’t been lying about wanting to talk to Irena about her cabbage rolls. She and the ladies at the church had put together countless slow cookers full of them. All based on her recipe and from what he understood clearly as her direction. There’d been a really nice dinner from a caterer, but Rachel and Vic loved the cabbage rolls so much she’d made them for the reception.

  “Did you know she and Evie, Vic’s sister, made the cake at the bakery?” Cora pointed at the beautiful cake, covered in a sea of roses and violets cascading down three tiers. Instead of a bride and groom, birds in flight topped it.

  “The birds on top are spun sugar. Evie made those,” Maybe said. “My sister loves birds. Vic did it as a surprise. The violets are sugar too. Lots of buttercream because Rachel’s not a fan of fondant.”

  He was so glad Cora had these people in her life. This family she’d made. They were kind to one another. Close-knit and protective. But they could fight too. He’d witnessed a spat between Cora and Maybe and wondered if they were ever going to speak to one another again but a few hours later they were apologizing and moving on.

  Glad too, that they’d made room for him in their family. Cora was a package deal. With her, came this group of people. What they thought was important to her and they had very few secrets from what he understood.

  Gregori had been part of that too. That he and Beau were close meant a lot to them because they trusted Gregori. His friend was one of their family, both in the sense of biology and of the heart.

  Again, he was clearly meant to be there in Gregori’s kitchen that day so he could be part of this family. Include Ian when his friend actually took time off.

  “That’s beautiful. The cake. The story behind it. The cabbage rolls and this venue too. All because people love Rachel and Vic,” Beau said. One of Wren’s friends had a rental property just north of the city and they gave it to Rachel and Vic for the day. It was one of those houses people often used for family reunions or work retreats so it fit the party perfectly.

  Cora’s face lit with love and happine
ss for her friends. “Yeah. All that. The wedding has been as special and unique as they are. And you got to meet Rachel’s aunt and uncle. They’re really nice too. They deserved a day that fit them both. I think this hit the mark.”

  Cora was so pretty. All dressed up in a long-sleeved dress. Short enough to show off her legs. Not too snug, but it had a vintage feel to it, which always seemed to work magic on her. Roses with bits of green holly sat just behind her ear. Part of the bun thing she had her hair pinned into. Her lipstick matched the deep velvet red of the roses.

  She was a total knockout and all his.

  And she was blissed out for her friends.

  “Is it weird that I’m worried that Jezzy might need to go out and we’re not there and she’s so sweet and doesn’t want to pee in the house so she’s trying and we’re not helping,” Cora said, just a tiny bit drunk.

  “Yes,” he told her before he grabbed her bag and helped her into her coat. “Let’s go home and save Jezzy from loneliness.”

  “It’s nearly midnight so it will be by the time we get to the house. So we should open presents then because it’ll officially be Christmas,” she said like it just occurred to her instead of the fact that she’d been pestering him about opening presents early for the last week.

  “I’m totally sure you were just making up holidays,” he said, one brow up.

  “I have no idea what you mean. Let’s find Maybe and Rachel and say good-night,” she told him while tugging him toward the door.

  “Like for instance Day of Delight wasn’t part of my religious education.”

  She snickered. “Look, there very well could be a holiday where you’re allowed to open a present or two early. In fact, in the entirety of human existence I refuse to believe there isn’t one. And since I didn’t know the name of it exactly, I just gave it the name it should have. Because clearly if you have a day where you get to open presents early, it’s a fucking delight.”

  “I really like drunk Cora,” he told her as they approached their friends to say goodbye.