“You’re here often enough that it was only technically a stretch of the truth.”
“And what was it with Amber? Well, that was a huge whopper. You lied about being single since you were still with Sarah. So I guess you can include her in with Amber’s lie.”
I point the water bottle at him, intent on at least defending myself on that point. “We were technically not together anymore. She had ignored my calls for three days. That said to me we were done. So you can’t count either of those as lies. And in my defense, I didn’t lie to Sarah and that ended, so I think your entire thesis about my lying leading to the end of all of my relationships is total bullshit.”
“Yes, you did. You told her you were going to be managing your father’s club, which we both know you never planned to do. So you did lie.”
That very lie I told Hailey last night flashes through my mind, and I turn my head so I don’t have to face Alex. As I said, we’ve known each other for nearly our entire lives, and while we can’t read each other’s minds, I doubt he’ll miss the look I know is on my face as I remember telling her I manage the club.
“Dude, you lied to her already, didn’t you? What’s wrong with you? This sounds pathological.”
I wave away his concern, pretending it’s nothing. “I just told her I was doing something I’m not exactly doing. That’s all. We barely know each other, so it’s not a problem.”
“You lied about managing Club X, didn’t you? Why do you do that? It’s not like you’re some poor guy mooching off his parents and living in their basement. Look at this place. You own it. Like your car. And the jet skis. And everything else you have because of your trust fund. Most guys in your place brag about that kind of shit, and yet you insist on lying. Why?”
I spin around, not worried about what expression I have on my fucking face now. “Stop busting my balls. I don’t have to let any woman know about my finances. Do you go around sharing your bank account balance with every woman you get into bed with?”
“That’s not the point and you know it.”
“If all you’re going to do is lecture me, then leave me alone. You sound like my father.”
The insult hits just like I wanted it to, and Alex shakes his head. “I sound like me. She’s sweet, and you’re already lying. This isn’t even about you hurting her because, fuck, I barely know Hailey. This is about you sabotaging every relationship you have. You love the chase. You’re notorious for it, and I have no problem with that. But you’ve got a problem, Cade. This lying isn’t okay.”
On my way back into my room, I yell back to him, “You know the way out. Don’t slam the door when you leave.”
A minute later, I’m back in bed and I hear my best friend close the front door when he walks out. Nice start to the day.
Chapter Twelve
Hailey
My father stops at my dough table and raps his knuckles off the metal rack next to it. “You’ve got a visitor out front, honey.”
I lift my head from the cupcake I’ve been frosting and look at him in shock. A visitor to see me? “Who?”
“One of the guys from the other day. I don’t remember his name. They both look alike, so I’m not sure which one.”
Quickly, I tear off my gloves and look at my reflection in the metal case next to me to see if I got any cupcake batter or frosting on my face or in my hair. I don’t see any, but I want to make sure, so I turn toward my father.
“Do I look okay? Too much a mess?”
A slow smile lights up my father’s face. “You look beautiful, like always, honey.”
Pushing the hairs that have escaped my ponytail from my face, I roll my eyes. “You’re not helpful, Dad. Okay, I’m going to go out there.”
“Knock ‘em dead, honey.”
I throw him a look like I can’t believe he said that and hurry out into the dining room before stopping dead just outside the doors. I’m still wearing my apron. Damn! I hurriedly pull it over my head and toss it onto the counter near the sink.
Now I look presentable enough to see Cade.
Looking around the restaurant, I don’t see him, though. I don’t see anyone who looks like a male in his mid-twenties. The only customers around are the usual old men who sit at the counter forever drinking cup after cup of coffee and a family in one of the booths near the windows.
“Hailey, hey,” a male voice says behind me.
I turn around and see Alex, not Cade. Why is his cousin here? Oh, God. He’s here to tell me Cade doesn’t want to be bothered with me because I waited too long to text him. I was going to do it after I finished that batch of cupcakes.
“Hi, Alex. What are you doing here?” I ask, hating how rude that sounds considering how nice he was about what Sabrina said at dinner last night.
“I had some free time this afternoon since my plans fell through, so I thought I’d stop in and see what you’re making today. I looked in the case but didn’t see anything. Did they sell out already?”
“No. Well, yes, but I was just working on some more cupcakes. I can show you them if you like.”
Alex gives me a warm smile and nods. “Great. I’d love to see them.”
“Okay. Come back into the kitchen,” I say as I turn to head back to my station. Then I realize he’s probably used to the best chef’s kitchen, which is definitely not what we have here, so I stop and spin around to face him.
“I should warn you this probably isn’t what you’re used to a kitchen looking like.”
“It’s not the kitchen that makes great food. It’s the chef, so don’t worry.”
Forcing a tortured smile I know isn’t reaching my eyes, I move toward the kitchen silently praying to God Hector cleaned up and my father hasn’t made another mess back there. It’s bad enough my area looks like a cake factory exploded around it.
My hands are shaking by the time we walk through the doors. The moment I step foot inside, I frantically scan the kitchen for anything horrible, but it looks okay.
Well, okay for what I’m used to. What Alex works in probably looks like a million bucks compared to here.
I listen for any gasp of horror coming from him as we make our way to my table, but I don’t hear anything but the usual sounds of the kitchen. The afternoon cook, Sylvie, is humming some tune she said reminds her of when she was a girl back in Austin, the ice machine is making that ka-chonk-a-chonk noise that tells me someone needs to kick it again, and my father’s radio way back in the corner plays some Beach Boys’ song I recognize but can’t for the life of me remember the title right now.
“My area is back here,” I say, pointing to where I left the cupcakes I’d been working on in the corner nearest to the doors.
Before I can say anything else, Alex stops in front of my table and looks down at the last of the peach cupcakes I’d just started when my father said I had a guest. “That looks exactly like a rose, Hailey. It’s uncanny. If I didn’t know it was a cupcake beneath that frosting, I’d say you’d sculpted an actual flower. What flavor did you use for the cake?”
His compliment makes me beam with pride. “I decided to do a peach cupcake for this color icing. I’d offer you one, but our customers bought them all up this morning and I’m saving this one for something special. I have vanilla ones, though. Would you like one of them?”