“Is everything okay?” Tina asks when I race across the dance floor still dotted with a handful of customers, even with it being early in the day. She’s been extra clingy since I advised her to remove me from the management roster every weekend for the foreseeable future.
Isabelle works Monday through Friday, and although our schedules clash, I worked long and hard the past six years, so a bit of flexibility shouldn’t just be expected, it should be a given.
“I have an errand to run,” I start before realizing I don’t need to answer to her. She is a member of my staff. Nothing more.
Not hearing my tone as intended, Tina pushes out in a hurry, “Will you be back before closing? I heard rumors Logan might be dropping in again tonight.”
Business would usually stop me in my tracks. Not today. I’m out the door before all of Tina’s question leaves her mouth and am sliding into the driver’s seat of my sportscar even faster than that. The grinding of my teeth from my fast exit leaving two men in dark suits scrambling to follow me is drowned out by the healthy roar of my engine. Even if Logan doesn’t come to the table with the $1.5-billion investment he signed on for, his visit to Ravenshoe didn’t come without reward. His custom car is one of my new favorites, and only part of my appreciation stems from Isabelle’s sweat-slicked skin being embedded into the leather seats.
I work my jaw side to side when my exit out of the back parking lot of the Dungeon is thwarted by a sea of traffic. Cars stretch for miles, yet it isn’t even close to peak hour. My hands wring the steering wheel when the passenger side door pops open, and Hugo slides inside. Well, he can’t really slide since his legs are as long as a giraffe’s neck. He does more of a pretzel maneuver than an elegant slide.
“If you are here to talk me out of my decision, show yourself out as quickly as you showed yourself in.”
He holds his hands out in front of himself in a non-defensive manner. “I’m just coming along for the ride.”
His nonchalant response annoys the shit out of me, but not as much as the remembrance as to what he’s meant to be doing right now. “You’re meant to be watching Isabelle.”
“I am,” he snaps back before tapping two fingers on the tablet in his hand. “Via the device you asked me to sneakily slip into her purse this morning.”
I huff off the disappointment in his tone. “It’s a satchel.” I return my eyes to the road, unappreciative of his suspicious glare. “A hideous one at that.”
He laughs like he’s in full agreement with me, but it doesn’t stop him from expressing the reason for the groove between his brows. “I thought you were trying something different this time around.”
“I am,” I push out, equally frustrated by his line of questioning as I am understanding of it. He wasn’t pleased when I handed him the tracking device I wanted him to hide because he knew as well as I did why I asked him to do it. It keeps my hands thoroughly clean. “But with her safety imperative…”
His low, simpering groan cuts me off.
“If you have something you want to say, Hugo, say it. I don’t have time for theatrics.”
Like a man not in fear for his life, he says, “I think bugging Isabelle’s bag was the wrong move.” He doesn’t give me the chance to tell him I don’t care what he thinks. He silences me with more truths. “And the fight you’re about to start isn’t yours to start. Your parents are divorced—”
“Because my mother fucked my father’s best friend while I was in the hospital on my deathbed.”
“Which is shit, but it was over two decades ago, yet you’ve been making Jared pay for it every day for the past six years.” When my eyes shoot to his, he gives me a look that says,I’m not as dumb as you think I am. “Every business you bought my first year in Ravenshoe was an exact replica to a business Jared owned. You ran his companies into the ground by exposing his flaws and flaunting the fact you had none.”
Egotism rings in my tone when I snap out, “I can’t help that I gave the people of this town what they wanted, and they rewarded me with their loyalty and patronage.”
“True,” Hugo mutters. “But a bigger man would see that as a victory and call it a day.”
I glare at him, shocked he has the audacity to underhandedly call me a coward on my home turf. I built this fucking town. It’s thriving because of the time and effortIinstilled in it, and it will continue to see immense growth because of me.
My internal rant ends when it dawns on me what he is trying to say. He’s reminding me of what I said to him years ago about how putting the same effort into your personal life as you do your business life will see the same level of success.
When it registers to Hugo that I’m finally clicking on, he squeezes my shoulder while saying, “Your father isn’t a daft man, Isaac. He knows what he’s doing, so perhaps you should give him the chance to showcase that.” Confident he’s getting through to me, he adds, “The same can be said for Izzy.”
After smiling like my glare has no heat to it whatsoever, he jerks up his chin in farewell, then exits my car only a quarter-mile from where he entered it. I’m tempted to do the same when I spot someone striding down the street with a sense of urgency. It is Brandon. The man Isabelle kissed but failed to mention when I asked her if I had anyone to be concerned about.
His steps shouldn’t be so springy. Rejection weighs down a man’s shoulders.
Unless he doesn’t realize he’s been rejected?
My plans shift from confronting my father’s tormentor to mine when a ruthless bout of jealousy smacks into me. My weekend with Isabelle ensures I have nothing to be worried about when it comes to her having feelings for another man, but it won’t hurt to ensure her admirers are aware their feelings willneverbe replicated.
Once I’ve parked down the alleyway siding Harlow’s bakery, much to Hugo’s amusement, I take off in pursuit of Brandon on foot. I’m half a block away from him when my view is blocked by an overly varnished woman who has a lot of gall to show up in my town so soon after being caught in a lie.
“Isaac, hi. I was hoping to catch up with you before Catherine.” Clara pulls her sunglasses off her face before cocking out her hip. “Do you have time to talk?”
I peer past her shoulder, grimacing when I see Brandon slip into the building Isabelle works at before drifting my eyes back to Clara. “About?”
