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4
MACK
The woman wasa complete unrepentant workaholic. Even now, when she was at a party, Chase had found her way to the bar and, from the look of it, was currently reorganizing the station to her very particular standards.
I sighed and dropped into the seat beside my sister, adjusting myself under the tutu. I didn't know what she was thinking with these outfits. She looked over with a wide smile and glazed eyes.
“They were Sav’s idea,” she said to my scowl.
“And you didn’t think to, I don’t know, talk her out of it?”
She laughed. “Even if such a thing were possible, no, I don’t think I would have.” She wasn’t wrong. Talking Savanna out of anything once she’d set her mind to it was largely impossible. But Pip still could have tried to save me—and Chase—the embarrassment.
Not that Chase had anything to be embarrassed about. She looked phenomenal. Her red, spangly leotard was skin tight and dipped low in the back and, rather than don the bell-toed shoes, she’d stuffed her feet back into her heavy, black boots. It was alarmingly sexy. I wasn’t the only person who noticed. Marco, who was currently beside her behind the bar, wasn’t even trying to be subtle about staring at her tits anymore. He was flirting like a man who had zero intention of going home alone and Chase was just drunk enough to go along with it. Her laughter carried across the tent and I ground my teeth together. I wanted to punch him in the throat.
Pip made a sound that was somewhere between a laugh and a hiccup. “You know, if you just told her how you feel then you wouldn't have to watch other people flirt with her.”
“Actually I would, half our customers flirt with her.” Not that she noticed a lot of the time and, when she did, she shut them down hard.
“And do the other half flirt with you?” The answer was probably yes, not that I was about to admit it. “So is that a yes?”
“A yes to what?”
“Telling her that you’ve been in love with her for maybe … ten years?” It was probably closer to fifteen, but there was no way I was going to say that.
“How much have you had to drink, Pip?”
She waved a hand in my general direction. “Psh, hardly anything. And I’d be saying the same thing even if I was stone-cold sober.”
“Of course you would.” Because she was incapable of staying out of other people’s business.
My gaze tracked Chase behind the bar, mixing cocktails with smooth, well-practiced efficiency. She had the waiting crowd docile and purring in the palm of her hand.
Was I even good enough for her? Did I even deserve to be with her? I wanted to, but I doubted it all the same. She was this driven, remarkable, infuriating woman. I was where I was only because she allowed me to be next to her. Without her, god only knew where the fuck I’d be, or what I’d be doing.
When I came back to New York at twenty-four, after almost three years away, I had zero plan—much to my father’s displeasure. I’d gone to college and earned a degree in Media and Comms that I had done nothing with. The only reason I even applied to college was because Chase forced the form on me and told me to fill it out.
So I came back from years traveling with little more than some killer bar skills. Chase was managing some high end spot full of snobby suits and wannabe models. She was too good for the place and her boss was a fucking dick, so the minute she voiced the idea of starting her own place I was all in, because that was the only way I was with her. All in. I would have followed her even if I thought it was a shit idea. Which, obviously, it wasn’t.
It took us a year to get Rudi Blue off the ground, probably another two before things started running as smoothly as they could. It wasn’t something I ever saw myself doing, but I couldn’t imagine anything else either. There was also no one I’d rather be doing it all with than Chase.
I watched her pour three drinks from her shaker. She was smiling and pink cheeked. Drunk Chase was particularly fucking cute.
“Okay… say, hypothetically, you’re right,” I said as I rubbed my chin.
“Hypothetically, yes.” Pip smirked.
“Hypothetically,what do I do?” Chase had been clear about not wanting anything more than what we had. As much as I respected that—and I did, I really did—I also knew that we could be so good. All I had to do was make her see it too. All I had to do was prove her wrong. A near impossible task, by all accounts.
My sister laughed. “You have got to be kidding me. How many women have you seduced?”
“Seduced? God, you make it sound so fucking seedy. But, to answer your question, I’ve…” The sentence drifted into nothingness because I wasn’t sure I had the right words and I sure as shit wasn’t trying to seduce Chase.
“Wooed? Courted? I don’t care what you call it.”
Wooed wasn’t much better but it didn’t make me cringe. “I’vewooedplenty of women. None of whom were my best friend and business partner. None of whom were Chase.” There was also the issue that, whatever I’d done in the past, I wanted more than that now.
“Fair point,” she conceded and pursed her lips. I braced because anything she suggested would probably be ridiculous. But it wasn't like I had any other options.
