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“Weren’t you?” Dillon asked, his irritation diminishing. They hadn’t gone out. Silly to be concerned about something that had obviously occurred way before he’d been back in town.
“All I had in mind was a friendly dinner. What’s with all the questions about Alexa?” He shook his head. “I know what this is about. Dad told you about Taste of Froot.”
“What’s Taste of Froot?” Dillon stretched out his long legs in front of him. “And what does it have to do with Alexa?”
“Taste of Froot is a high-end, specialty line of dessert shops. There are two stores in southern New York and the owner would like to build one in Pennsylvania. Naturally, Haven is on her short list for locations.”
“Naturally.” As the dots connected in Dillon’s head, his temple throbbed. Alexa’s anger suddenly made a lot more sense. And sense was what he needed to talk into his brother before he did something he couldn’t take back. “Wait a second. You want Alexa’s shop for this fro-yo bar?”
“It’s not merely fro-yo.” Cory steepled his fingers together. “And yes, if you must know, Divine Flowers’ current location would be perfect for Taste of Froot. It’s centrally located on Main Street, near the shopping district. Not to mention, Alexa is delinquent. I’m sorry, but it’s true.”
Talk about kicking a woman when she was down. Shove Alexa out, stick in a trippy yogurt place. They owned other property. It wasn’t as if the yogurt shop couldn’t slide into another opening. In fact, they owned an empty storefront on the other side of Main, yet another of the projects Dillon had on his slate for the fall. Though that was probably the problem. The empty storefront needed work. Alexa’s store was in move-in condition.
Since the bulk of their ancillary properties were in Dillon’s name as per the agreement he’d made with Cory, he’d willingly agreed to handle rehabbing them. Eventually he would end up managing them as well. In the meantime, Cory was handling things.
Which meant, in effect, if Alexa were evicted, it would be by Dillon, not Cory. For all Dillon knew, Cory had been signing his name to the letters of warning all along.
Man, his brother was a piece of work.
“So you’re courting her?” Dillon asked, tightening his jaw around the question.
“Courting who?”
Interesting. “The chick who owns the dessert places. Oh, wait a second.” A sly grin crossed Dillon’s face. “Do you know her? Like…personally?”
Cory raked a hand through his previously undisturbed dark hair. The nervous tic didn’t suit him, but his glare sure did. “Of course I know her personally, as we’re fostering what I hope will become a mutually profitable business relationship.”
“No, I mean personally personally.” Dillon grinned. The subject of women was one they could discuss without too much rancor, assuming Cory stayed away from Alexa. “Is she hot?”
“You’re a complete Neanderthal.”
“That’s a yes. So tell me about her.”
“There’s nothing to tell. Yes, she’s attractive, just as she’s always been. Can we move on?”
“As she’s always been, hmm?” Dillon stretched his arms behind his head, quite liking holding Cory’s feet to the fire. Too bad he didn’t get to do it more often. “So who is she?”
Cory shoved back from his desk, though he didn’t rise. His hair slipped forward, flirting with eyes that had narrowed. “Melinda Townsend.”
Metal Mindy? “Vicky’s older sister Mindy? No fucking way.”
“Melinda,” Cory enunciated. “She doesn’t go by Mindy anymore. She’s an incredibly successful businesswoman and we’d be lucky to land her store in one of our properties.”
“Aw, look at you getting all fidgety. How cute. Is that why you’re cozying up to Vickster? Trying to get in good with the sister?” Though that was a lost cause, as far as Dillon could tell. Vicky and Cory had been like a lit match and polyester for as long as Dill could remember. That Cory had never quite shaken his infatuation with the gorgeous, untouchable Met—Melinda—had never seemed to sit well with Vicky either. Sibling rivalry or something, probably.
Not that he knew anything about that.
“I’m not cozying up with Victoria. How could I? She’s an ice cube.”
A laugh burst out of Dillon. “Vick? Are you kidding me?”
Cory’s features eased. Marginally. “Just so you know, I didn’t contact Victoria. She came after me. Once word spread that we were considering doing a lifestyle magazine to augment the business, she practically begged me to hear her spiel. So far all she’s done is argue with my choices.”
“She’s a very well-respected designer. Nationally acclaimed even.”
Cory’s mouth flattened. “It’s my magazine. She’s completely inflexible. And irritating as hell.”
Dillon leaned forward and rested his arms on his thighs. This was absolutely priceless. “So, did you ask her out yet?”
