Just Desserts

Page 17

Daisy had a sneaking suspicion he still only had eyes for Summer.
Her best friend began to sob as her brother caught her up in a hug. “D-don’t l-lecture m-me, Gab-briel,” Isabella managed to say.
“Thought you might need a ride home when this was over,” Gabriel said, his voice low and soothing. “But there’s something you should know.”
If that womanzing asshat had gotten that woman he’d run off with pregnant, Daisy would hunt him down herself.
“I’m not sure how to say it—”
Her best friend gripped his coat. “Spit it out, Gabe.”
“It’s all over the news. Everyone knows.” He hugged Isabella tighter. “Sorry, honey.”
Daisy caught Gabriel’s eye. “Take Bella home. I’ll cover for her.”
“Thank you,” Isabella sniffed, stepping out of her brother’s embrace.
“Maybe you should go on a vacation, Bella. Maybe to the Bahamas or someplace where people won’t bother you.” Daisy raised her brows, trying to convey her thoughts while keeping her own tears at bay. “I’ll hold down the fort while you go.”
“I think you’re right.” Isabella dashed a hand over her eyes, glancing up at her brother and then at Daisy. “And you know what else?”
Daisy gave her a watery smile. She hated to see anyone cry alone, especially her best friend. “What?”
Isabella grabbed her hand, squeezing it so hard that Daisy almost gasped in pain. “I love you, Daisy Starr Barnes.
Daisy watched her friend leave, waving as Gabriel’s truck pulled out of the parking lot. By the time she returned to the fundraiser, people had already eaten, bid on the items they had wanted, and were putting on their coats.
Smiles and laughter were a good indicator tonight had gone well. Heading to the long table of now empty food platters, she cleaned and packed up her supplies.
“Thanks for all of your help, Daisy,” the new librarian called out as she hefted the first bag. “Be sure to tell Isabella not to worry either. Poor girl, migraine hitting her at the worst possible time.”
“You’re welcome, and I will.” Daisy wanted to smack herself as the woman ducked into an office. She still hadn’t gotten her name.
Daisy nodded, and then made two trips to her car before wishing everyone who was left a good night. Twenty minutes later, she was in her favorite pjs and relaxing in bed while checking her email.
One in particular caught her attention—mostly because it sounded like one of those foreign you’ve-won-the-lottery emails.
My dearest Daisy,
It has come to my attention that you have become acquainted with my beloved son. I do hope that you treat him well.
If you find it in your heart, and have the time—
“Give me a break,” she muttered at the screen.
Fuming, she drilled her fingers on the laptop and wondered if she should bother to tell Sebastian. The woman wanted information, that Daisy knew for sure. However, the part about her beloved son…Yeah, a little over the top, and Daisy wasn’t responding to some poser looking for dirt, not that she had any. But there was the urge to email this Francesca, Countess of Spenserfield and tell her off for pretending to be somebody’s momma.
Daisy turned and stared at the wall, taking in all the pictures she had of her family. Tons were of her and her mom, at all stages of life and cancer. There weren’t that many of her dad, who had been killed in Iraq during the first Gulf War, when she’d been a toddler. Some were of her extended family in Holland Springs and down in Georgia. At any given time, she had more relatives in federal prison than out.
What would they think of her agreement? She snorted softly. They’d be all for it.
Her email notification dinged again. This time it was from Jules. Her heart began to beat like crazy in her chest and her palms grew damp. She licked her dry lips and then clicked on the email.
Daisy,
I happened to see some pictures of you and Sebastian Romanov at dinner. The two of you look great together. Happy, even.
It’s led me to believe that what you and I need is a real relationship, with real people. As much as I enjoy talking to you, darling, this isn’t ever going to work. My schedule, etc. makes it impossible for me to come to the States, and let’s face it, you don’t have the finances to come here for an extended amount of time.
“Who are you and what have you done to my Jules?” she whispered brokenly.
So let’s not gently tug at the Band-Aid. Let’s just rip it off, and each go our own way. It’s for the best.
I love you too much for you not to live in the real world.
Yours,
Jules
“No,” she cried at the screen and reached for her phone. She texted Jules. She called Jules. She left message after message, begging and pleading with him to call her back.
“Please, Jules,” she sobbed, as her heart broke into a million pieces. This was worse than her breakup with Glen. This was worse than anything she’d ever felt except for her mother’s death. Or maybe it was worse, because Jules was out there living his life, while she had to stay here. Alone.
“Please, please, please. I need you. Don’t leave me like this. Who else can I talk to? Who else will listen to me? It’s not fair you made this decision without me. DAMMIT JULES, call me back.”
There was only one person who was responsible for this entire mess, and only one person that could fix it—Sebastian Romanov.
Come tomorrow, he’d explain everything to Jules.
Or else.
***
“I swear to God, Sebastian, if you pull out a handkerchief to wipe off anything, I’ll beat your arse,” Christian threatened as they walked inside the local pub.
Dropping the silk material while easing his hand out of his pocket, Sebastian smirked. “I was merely ascertaining where to best keep my wallet so it doesn’t get nicked.”
Christian rolled his eyes. “Could you stop with the Masterpiece Theater talk? You’re twenty-seven.”
“What does my age have to do with the perpetual lowering of the standards of elocution?” There was nothing in the world he liked doing more than goad his twin, especially when he was in a foul mood. Breaking up with Daisy had put him in said foul mood.
“Seriously?”
Nodding, Sebastian put his hands behind his back and tried to look as though he was having fun. But he wasn’t and they’d just arrived. He was miserable as hell over the email he’d sent, and the first of her texts and voice mails had only begun to show up.
“Oh my giddy aunt,” Christian groaned. “Stay here and I’ll get us a couple of pints.” He headed to the bar.
Sebastian shifted to his right, stepping in something sticky and most likely vile. He grimaced and took in the place. Country music blared on an old jukebox. A band set up their instruments on the stage. Bras and jock straps hung from the ceiling.
His foot tapped to the beat of the music. The band was quite good and the pub was crowded. It seemed as though the entire population of Holland Spring’s over-eighteen crowd was in attendance. Except her. He couldn’t stop thinking about Daisy.
“Here, and remember what I said about the hanky.” Christian thrust a bottle at him, the cap off.
“This where you get up to regularly?” Sebastian surreptitiously wiped the top off on his coat and followed his brother to an empty table. No one seemed to care that a world-famous actor was among them. Perhaps that’s why Christian loved living in Holland Springs so much, aside from his wife.
Setting his beer down, Christian studied him. “I’m surprised you didn’t have something sarcastic to say along the lines of Zoe allowing me out of the house.”
Sebastian gave his brother a look. “Hardly.”
“Good to hear—”
“Romanov men aren’t allowed to do anything. We just do,” Sebastian said in all seriousness. And the thing he would do tomorrow—make Daisy his fiancée so that they could get to know one another in the real world by putting that damned ring on her finger.
“Just when I thought there was hope.” Christian grabbed his beer and raised it. “Cheers.”
Sebastian copied him, and then asked, “Is this the only pub around?”
With a heavy sigh, Christian set the bottle down and nodded at someone behind Sebastian. “Yes, and I’m sorry it doesn’t meet your high standards.”
His brother knew nothing of his standards. Sure, this place wouldn’t be his first choice, but Sebastian’s favorite pub wasn’t exactly a five-star dining establishment.
For the next ten minutes, neither did anything other than drink and look around the bar.
This wasn’t awkward at all, Sebastian thought grimly. He held up his bottle of beer. “What is this?” It was surprisingly good. Actually, it was better than good. He’d like to take home a keg of it.
“Homebrew. Company’s called Two Bugs Brewing.” His brother grinned. “The blokes that make it want to start up a micro-brewery, and I’m thinking of investing. They’ve already a massive following.”
Finally, a topic that interested him and one he could contribute to, even help out his brother. “You’ll need a copy of their profit margin, marketing campaign, distribution—”
“Thank you.”
Sebastian took another drink and set the bottle down. Undeterred by his brother’s thank you, he started again, “A background check is needed as well as a look into their finances. One can’t be too careful these days.”
“Is there ever a time you can talk about anything other than business?” His brother shook his head. “Your conversations with Daisy must be scintillating, poor girl. ‘What’s the profit margin of your catering business? Have you considered this brand of flour instead of brand x? There’s a two percent savings with that one.’”
No, his conversations with Daisy were anything but business. “Why did you bring me here, Christian?”
“To help you out with your little problem, of course.” His brother’s eyebrows rose. “Should there be another reason?”
Yes. “No. However, I appreciate you sacrifice. You wife’s company is surely preferred to mine.” His eyes kept straying to the door. Maybe if he willed Daisy to walk through she would. Maybe if he texted her. He slipped his hand into his pocket, palming his phone. Maybe he should leave her the hell alone tonight. Jules had broken her heart after all.
“Damnable pride,” Christian said, capturing Sebastian’s attention. “I don’t know what I was thinking.”
Sebastian let go of his cell and frowned. “For once you were thinking instead of doing, that’s what.”
“Which gets us nowhere.” Christian slapped some money on the table. “I’d hoped—ah, bugger it. Ready to go?”
Before Sebastian could answer, his brother had already turned and walked away. He hated this, this wall between them that couldn’t be scaled with conversations about anything. He didn’t know what to do or what to say to make things better.
And why should he?
Christian didn’t need him. His brother had a wife and a family that cared for him. There was no way Sebastian could compete with that, not with their history, and as his brother constantly reminded him—Vladimir Romanov’s legacy lived on in Sebastian.
Jaw and fists clenching, he followed his brother out of the pub. Then he got in his car, and made himself listen to every last one of Daisy’s voicemails to Jules.
Repeatedly.
Chapter Fifteen
As soon as Sebastian woke up the next day, he went straight to Daisy’s. He wasn’t quite sure what he’d say or do to make her feel better, but he had to do something.
She wasn’t expecting him exactly, but he had said he’d be back to get his coat and there was still the business of securing his position with Romanov Industries.
Unfortunately, the more time he spent here, the less inclined he was to worry about it, and that worried him. Never before had he purposefully put business at the bottom of his everyday to-do list. Normally, it ranked up there, at the very top. Or it had, until he’d met Daisy.
She resided at the top, everything else second and third, and in some cases falling off his list completely.
Today was no different. Today he had to fix things for her.
Just as he raised a hand to knock, the door was jerked open and there stood Daisy, eyes puffy and mouth thin.
“You,” she growled. “Why don’t you come inside so we can have a little talk?”
She knew. Oh bloody hell, she knew. “Okay.” With a tight smile, she moved out of his way and he stepped inside. The door slammed shut behind him.
“How could you?” she cried, marching up to him and shoving a finger in his chest. “I hadn’t agreed to anything yet.”
Wait, she didn’t know. He blinked, encircling her wrist with his hand and keeping it against him. “What?”
“There are pictures of us, everywhere. I looked on the Internet. Jules saw, and he-he—” She bit her bottom lip and looked away. Tears fell from the corner of her eyes.
“And he what?”
“He broke up with me,” she said, her voice cracking.
“I’m sorry,” he said, and he was. He hated hurting her.
Her fingers tightened in his shirt, pulling on it. “He was nice about it, and said I needed to have a relationship in real life. Is there something wrong with me, Sebastian? Am I so horrible that I can’t even keep a virtual boyfriend?”
With his free hand, he smoothed her hair as best he could. It was pulled on top of her head, in a rubber band instead of her usual chopsticks. “No. He’s the asshole. Not you. You were honest with him, and he took the easy way out. Maybe it’s for the best.”