“Dallas. That’s genius.”
“I know, right? It’s set up for singles and multiple players. We’ll debut an original Full Tilt game app every other month that newsletter subscribers can download. They can practice the game on their own time or come in and try it out on the big screen and we’ll host tournaments with prizes.” She beamed. “No one else has even thought of doing this. Lucky for us, we have our own software developer who did.”
My eyes narrowed. “Is he developing just phone apps?”
“She”—Dallas emphasized—“is also an engineer who’s going all MacGyver on swapping guts and parts out of old pinball machines and busted-up arcade games to create something unique to us. That’ll be in development for a while yet.”
Then she led me through the car-themed and TV show–themed areas. The largest, most open area housed games that fell into the fantasy realm.
Dallas took me back to the bar where we’d started. “Sorry if that was more of a drive-by than a blow-by-blow. I’m sure I’m forgetting half of what I’m supposed to showcase.”
“No, it was perfect. I don’t know how you’re keeping this all straight. My head is spinning.”
She swiped two flutes of champagne off the counter. “Here’s to keeping that smart brain of yours offline all night as you get ready to play the game.”
“What game?”
A devious little smirk deepened her dimples. “Telling you would just spoil the fun.”
“What are you up to?”
“Not me, blame the cosmos.”
I blinked at her.
“Anyway. Cheers!”
We touched our glasses together.
After we sipped, I said, “I’d envisioned this place more like—”
“Dave and Buster’s,” my cousin Ash said behind me.
I turned and faced him. “Exactly what I was thinking.”
Dallas said, “That comparison sort of works. Except no one under twenty-one is allowed. We give out tokens for free or reduced drinks instead of paper tickets for cheap-ass toys. Oh, and there’s no food.” She paused. “Although, that may change once the other club is open.”
“Everything is top-notch . . . I’m so damn proud of you, sis.” Ash hugged her. Then he stepped back to give her outfit the same perusal I had. “Interesting fashion choice. I’m hoping the music here isn’t ’80s themed.”
Dallas patted him on the cheek. “Don’t worry. I’ll request some Backstreet Boys and NSYNC to keep you happy.”
“Don’t know why you’d do that,” Ash scoffed. “I never listened to that stuff.”
She and I exchanged a look. Then I said, “Uh, yeah, you did. I was there. Remember?”
“But she wasn’t.” Ash nudged Dallas’s shoulder.
“But you left evidence of musical choices where a snoopy baby sister could easily find it. And you weren’t around to tell me to keep out or go away.”
Ash kissed the top of her head. “I never would’ve done that anyway, brat.”
Dallas handed him her empty champagne glass. “Duty calls. I’ll catch you guys later.”
We anchored that corner of the bar for the next hour as the place began to fill up. Ash and I didn’t make small talk beyond commenting on the arrival of specific guests.
While Ash and I had always been close outside of work, things had changed between us after my father had named me the future CEO of Lund Industries. I didn’t know if it bothered Ash that when I took the reins, he’d have to answer to me. And I hadn’t nutted up to ask him.
Then he looked at me oddly. “It’s weird that you’re still chilling with me. Is that because your date isn’t here yet?”
“What date?”
“Come on. You always have a hot woman hanging off your arm at events.”
Not lately. But since he and I hadn’t been hitting the clubs after work he wouldn’t know that. Nor would I tell him that because I’d been putting in extra hours at LI, I couldn’t remember the last time I’d gone out with a woman.
Wait. I had gone out with Gabi, but that hadn’t been a date.
“Shit, there’s my mom,” Ash said and turned away. “Cover me.”
“What? How am I supposed to—”
Aunt Priscilla waved at me, then her gaze zeroed in on her son. She fought the tide of people—politely, of course, because she was a southern woman.
“Is she gone?” Ash asked.
“No. She’s still headed this way.”
“Dammit. Did she see me?”
“Yes, she saw you. Ash, you’re too old to try and ditch your mother. Not to mention you’re too damn big to fit under the counter.”
“Piss off.”
“Fine. I’ll leave.”
Ash grabbed my arm with enough force to keep me in place. “Sorry. Please stay.”
“What is going on?”
“You’re the youngest in your family; you wouldn’t understand. And you never have an issue finding a simple damn date.” Ash straightened and downed a glass of bubbly before he turned around.
Aunt Priscilla glided toward us, dressed in art gallery–patron chic: flowing black pants, a loose-fitting white silk blouse unbuttoned at the neck to showcase her jewelry—lots of large sparkling diamonds in a silver setting—and finishing the look off with a fire-engine-red jacket that matched her lipstick and her heeled boots.
I kissed her cheek. “You look incredible, Auntie.”
“Thank you. Wear enough diamonds and no one will notice other flaws.”
Then it was Ash’s turn to buss her cheek. “You are radiant tonight, Mom, and it doesn’t have a thing to do with the ice.”
“Charmer.”
“So what do you think of this venue?”
Her eyes swept the room and returned to her son’s. “I think Dallas found her niche. She did an outstanding job not only on the concept for this place, but on the execution. I’m beyond thrilled for her. So proud. Both your dad and I are.”
“Where is Dad?”
“Playing pinball. As soon as he and his brothers saw the Elvis machine, they were all about the King.” She smiled charmingly. “So that’s why I came lookin’ for you.”
Here’s where I could run interference. “Why aren’t you plinking quarters and hitting those flippers as the King gyrates his hips? Place like this has to be your jam, Aunt Cilla.”
“Well, I sure played a mean pinball . . . back in the day.”
I snickered at her reference to the Who.
“I might give it a whirl later.” She pinned Ash with a look. “After I meet your date. Where is she?”
That’s what Ash needed my help with? And . . . I was out.
But Ash blocked my escape. “She’s running late. That’s why Nolan and I have been waiting at the bar since we arrived. I’ve been watching the door for her.”
I bit back a derisive snort. Ash and I had had our backs to the door for the past half an hour.
“Is that so?”
He gestured to the crowd. “Lotta people, as you can see. I wouldn’t want to miss her.”
Dude. You are so full of shit that your mama could smell it from across the room.
“Now that, I can understand. So y’all don’t mind if I pull up a chair and sit a spell while we wait? We are closer to the champagne here. Jax sure didn’t skimp on serving the good stuff.”
Ash smiled at her—all teeth. “That’d be great. I’ll get another chair.”
I stopped him from escaping. “Oh no, you stay. It’d be my pleasure to grab one.”
Not that I hurried in procuring a chair. No surprise that no one else had joined their little two-person party, given the tightness on Ash’s face.
As soon as I settled next to Priscilla with a fresh glass of champagne, Ash’s body went rigid. He tossed off, “Finally. I see her by th
e door. I’ll be back.”
He cut through the crowds like a warrior on a mission.
Aunt Priscilla leaned closer to murmur, “Fifty bucks says that’s the last we see of him tonight.”
I laughed. “Hard pass on that sucker bet.”
She harrumphed. “How about wagering on what lie he’ll tell to cover up his original lie?”
“You’re so sure he’s lying?”
“Please. I’m his mother. I’ve never been able to read Dallas, but that boy is the spitting image of his father and that man cannot lie to save his life. At least not to me.”
I loved seeing this side of my aunt . . . and putting the screws to my cousin would be fun. “You’re on. Fifty bucks says he claims his date felt nauseous before she arrived, but she bucked up and came to the party, only to suffer a drastic relapse as soon as she walked through the door, resulting in Ash having to leave immediately to drive her home.”
“My my, Nolan. That is plausible. But I disagree. Too predictable. Ash will go for the drama. He’s more like Dallas in that regard than he’ll admit. I believe he’ll claim to be annoyed that she’d showed up so late, they fought about it, which resulted in her absolute refusal to attend the party. They left to sort things out in private, rather than causing a scene on Dallas and Jax’s big night.”
I held my fist out for a bump.
But we both lost the bet because Ash did show up with a woman on his arm.
Gabriella.
What the fuck?
Ash maneuvered Gabi beside him after they reached us. “Here she is. Better late than never.”
Neither of us responded. Mostly because yelling BULLSHIT would be frowned upon.
“Anyway, Mom, you remember Gabi Welk. She works for Jax at Lakeside.”
Priscilla offered her a genuine smile. “Gabi. Of course. It’s nice to see you again, darlin’.”
“Nice to see you too, Mrs. Lund.”
Not only did Ash not acknowledge me, Gabi didn’t either.
Again . . . WTF?
“How did this date come about?” Priscilla asked. “It just seems . . . out of nowhere.”
Gabi peered up at Ash—total deer-in-the-headlights look.
“Gabi lives in Snow Village. She helped me out when I moved Dallas in. We got to talking, realized we were both invited to this party and agreed to meet here first and have dinner afterward.” He wrapped his arm around her and squeezed her shoulder. “Isn’t that right?”
This is where a real date would give Ash a smile or nod.
Not Gabi. She looked ready to clock him.
Why that made me near giddy? No clue.
“This is totally off topic,” Priscilla inserted, “but after seeing how spectacularly this space turned out, I cannot understand why Dallas is dragging her feet in finishing the interior design of her own home. Her house sits empty while she moves into yet another apartment.”
“Mom. Stop nagging her. This project was a massive undertaking. I can’t blame her if after expending her creative energy for someone else that she needs a place to recharge at the end of the workday that doesn’t require anything from her.”
Priscilla blinked as if a need for downtime hadn’t occurred to her.
Just then a tall blond woman sidled up to Gabi. “Oy. This place is posh, innit?”
Gabi said, “This is my friend Liddy. We’re neighbors at Snow Village. Liddy, this is Mrs. Lund, Dallas and Ash’s mother.”
“Happy to meet you, ma’am. That girl of yours. She’s got brains and heart, doesn’t she? Brings a ray of sunshine wherever she goes. But I have ’alf a mind to kick her arse for keeping her work on this club on the down low.”
“Nondisclosures are a fact of life these days. But I am glad she invited you to the party.”
Liddy frowned. “Dallas didn’t invite me; I tagged along with Gabi girl.”
Priscilla raised both her eyebrows at Ash. “Liddy tagged along on your date?”
Busted.
Heh heh.
“Excuse me.”
My gloating vanished as my mom entered our bizarre circle.
“I need to steal Cilla for a moment, Monte is looking for her.”
As soon as they disappeared, Liddy snagged two glasses of champagne, handing one to Gabi. Before she drank, she glared at me. “While we haven’t been formally introduced, I know all about you. Bit of a preening peacock, aren’t you, just ruffling feathers all over the bleeding place.”
“Liddy,” Gabi warned. “Behave.”
“Bollocks. Why can’t I rip this tosser a new arsehole?”
“Because the carpet is brand new and blood is a bitch to get out.”
She sighed. “You are lit-er-al-ly no fun.”
“I’m loads of fun,” Gabi said dryly. “This is my fun face.”
I snickered.
Gabi sipped her champagne and looked everywhere but at me.
Dallas bounded over, inserting herself between Ash and Gabi to hug Gabi. “You made it! There are so many people here I was afraid I’d missed you. And Liddy came too.” She elbowed Ash out of her way to hug Liddy. “I had no idea you were Ash’s mysterious date.”
“I, um—”
“Explain later. Right now I need you to come with me. I’m supposed to round up two more warm bodies for a photo op.” She dragged both of them away.
Leaving me and Gabi alone.
“It amazes me that Dallas has so much strength for her small stature.”
No reaction.
“I also find it interesting that Dallas believed Liddy was Ash’s date. While Ash himself told his mother something different.”
Gabi didn’t respond.
I stepped in front of her, forcing her attention to me “So you and Ash, huh?”
“Why are you surprised?”
“I’m not half as surprised as you were, Gabriella, that you and Ash are on a date.”
She scowled.
“Just admit that you’re not dating him.”
“Because that would be so hard to believe? A man like Ash Lund would find a woman like me attractive?”
This wasn’t going the way I’d expected. I wanted her to complain about Ash’s high-handed behavior, I’d agree he acted like an ass and then we could rip on him for using her to lie to his mother.
“Just because I’m not your type, Nolan, doesn’t mean you speak for all other men.”
Then she aimed those pale silvery eyes at me, eyes sparking with hurt, and I understood I’d fucked up.
Majorly.
“Gabi—”
“Don’t you ‘Gabi’ me, Lund.” She invaded my space. “After we’d first met, you’d made up your mind that I was this femme fatale homewrecker out to seduce your brother. Which we both know was a wrong assumption on your part. But did you apologize for that? No.”
I opened my mouth to say sorry and she pressed her champagne glass against my lips.
“Zip it. I’m not done.”
Okay.
“I let go of my anger over your complete misjudgment of my character—which could’ve cost me my job—because I knew I’d continue to have to deal with you since you’re the rink owner’s brother. Thankfully we didn’t cross paths that much . . . until I had the misfortune of you being there the night Tyson broke up with me. Imagine my surprise when you showed me a different side of yourself at Buddy’s. I’d started to think maybe I’d misjudged you too.” She snorted. “Then you proved me right again.”
“How?”
“You know how. So I bailed instead of staying there and pretending everything was peachy keen, jellybean and that you hadn’t kicked me when I was already down.” She threw her shoulders back. “I’ve had some time to think, and maybe I’ve got liquid courage tonight, but I wanna tell you, bud, that you’re wrong, wrong, wrong because
I can’t be both.”
Jesus. Was she drunk? Because she wasn’t making sense. “You can’t be both what?”
“Both the tempting kind of woman with the power to make a man stray, and . . . I’m paraphrasing here . . . the kind of woman who isn’t the slightest bit feminine, not your type.” She paused and took a long sip of champagne. “Ring any bells yet?”
Why was she studying me with an intensity that sent a spike of fear through me?
My brain rewound to the night at Buddy’s and my discussion with the bartender. Him asking if I planned to make a move on Gabi and me answering . . .
She’s definitely not my type.
Gabi hadn’t been there during that conversation.
But that didn’t mean she hadn’t overheard it.
Fuck me.
That’s why she’d left.
In that moment I felt myself shrinking—smaller and smaller to the size of a cockroach.
A vile bug that deserved to be squashed and wiped off her shoe as she walked away.
Which Gabi was currently doing; strolling off after the ultimate mic drop.
Oh, hell no.
Rather than putting hands on her, I outmaneuvered her, ending up directly in front of her again.
“Move,” she said crossly.
“No. You’ve said your piece now I’m saying mine.”
She tilted her head back, skepticism apparent on her face and in her posture.
“I’m sorry this apology is long overdue. I was wrong to suspect you had a thing for Jax and you’d act on it. I’m sorry that my misplaced concern for my brother caused problems for you at Lakeside.”
Her only reaction was to cross her arms over her chest.
“And I’m truly sorry I said hurtful things when you were already having a bad night. I shouldn’t have added to it, but I did, and for that additional hurt, I’m sorry.”
Gabi blinked at me. “That’s it?”
“Ah, yeah. Why? Is it not enough?”
“Where’s the mansplaining? The ‘I didn’t know you could hear me.’ Or the ‘I only said that to clear the way for Rico to hit on you.’ Or the ‘I knew you were listening, and I was just messing with you’ or the ‘it’s not my fault you can’t take a joke’ kind of excuses?”