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By the time she dropped off her lethargic—but thankfully mostly unharmed—kitty and relieved her best friend at work, her sleepless night had taken its toll in a raging headache. And then it got even worse, because the first thing she saw when she turned on her computer was an e-mail from Santangelo, LLC.
Great. Just great.
She expected to see the record of the funds she’d transferred via phone that morning to pay off her back rent. Instead, there was a note informing her that not only had her payment gone through, she now had a credit balance of approximately three months’ rent.
Dillon.
She slammed her fist on the counter. Damn him all to hell. Did he think money would solve everything? If he did, he was no better than his brother.
In all fairness, she’d once believed that, too, but she’d been so wrong. Now that her footing was becoming more solid in the business arena, all she could think about was what she’d been missing. She’d had it for a little while, and by God, she couldn’t imagine living her entire life without experiencing that wild rush again.
She wouldn’t.
Fingers shaking, she withdrew the ticket Dillon had given her to that evening’s gala from her purse. She was a successful store owner. Hiding away in her apartment while she stewed over what he’d done might’ve fit the old Alexa, who only fought if the odds were firmly stacked in her favor. But the new version wasn’t about to give him—and Cory—the satisfaction of thinking she needed to go off to cry in private.
She would be at that party, and she’d be looking so damn good Dillon would be the one weeping by the time the night was through. They’d see that she didn’t need their damn help. Or their pity.
…
Dillon paced the length of the reception hall. He’d been calling Alexa all day to no avail. He’d gone by the store earlier, but she’d closed at noon, not two as the sign on the door said. Even more worried, he’d pounded on her apartment door. Only after he’d gone back outside had he realized her small sedan wasn’t parked in the lot.
He thumbed out a package of antacids from his jeans pocket. He’d been chewing them like mints all day and his gut still burned. His head still throbbed. He was hungover and miserable and God, he couldn’t stand the idea of her curled up crying somewhere—or worse. If only she’d let him fix things. He’d make it right.
He’d do anything.
“There you are!” Sidestepping the workers finalizing last-minute arrangements, his mother hurried across the decorated hall. She
looked as fresh as one of Alexa’s roses in a pale pink shift dress. “I’ve been trying to reach you all day.”
As evidenced by the five voice mails he’d ignored. “Sorry. I’ve been in the middle of stuff.”
“Stuff that didn’t include getting changed for tonight, I see.” Obviously disappointed, she fingered the sleeve of his T-shirt. “People will start arriving in less than an hour.”
He glanced at the tables with their navy tablecloths and drab flower arrangements centered around hurricane lamp-style candles. “Who did the flowers?”
“We did the flowers. Have you forgotten the home beautification part of Value Hardware’s business?”
He wished he could forget a lot of things. “No, but Divine could’ve done so much more. Alexa could’ve…” He stopped. How long was he going to continue to torture himself like this? “I’ll go home and get changed soon. It’s not like I’m making any headway.” Disgust laced his words as he shoved his phone in his pocket.
His mother frowned. “Did you finally find a date for tonight?”
“I’d like to hear the answer to this,” a voice behind him answered.
He looked away from his mother. And did a double take at the sight of Alexa in a floor-length royal purple dress, slit up the side to reveal miles of creamy thigh.
His mom looked back and forth between them. “Oh,” she said softly.
Dillon stared at Alexa. She stood tall and regal, her hair pulled on top of her head in a crown of curls. Her eyes regarded him coolly. Waiting.
He’d been waiting too. Now was his chance to put it all out there. To say everything he’d felt, to apologize, to tell her how much she meant to him. That the idea of living his life without her in it would be like never seeing the sun again. Everything she’d made so bright and new just from her presence would go dark.
“Yes, oh.” Alexa flashed a razor-thin smile and cocked her head. “Still wearing the poor-boy costume, huh? Afraid you were going to run into me?”
He barely breathed. Costume? He wasn’t hiding from her, not in the ways that mattered. She’d helped him figure out who he really was, and how much he could give to the company. Along with how much he would get in return.
It wasn’t about coloring outside the lines. It was about working within the system to make it better from the inside out. Helping people through helping himself.
And her. Always her.
