Page 19 of Takeover

“Do what? Pour wine?” I pick up the bottle and pretend to pour. “Must be all those years at Columbia.”

“Those two guys were circling each other like a couple of bullfighters. Michael knew the deal the minute he walked through those doors,” Cheryl says.

I roll my eyes at them and refuse to engage.

“She’s ignoring us, evil one,” Vickie says. “My money’s on Ethan if it comes down to fisticuffs.”

They both pretend to have a fistfight in the middle of the kitchen, exaggerating punches while they laugh like a couple of preteen girls. I lean against the kitchen counter and stare at them. Once they’ve exhausted themselves, they laugh maniacally.

“Are you two done?” I do my best to seem bored.

“We’re just getting started. What are you going to do?” Vick asks while she pours herself and Cheryl a glass of wine.

“Do about what? Michael is my boyfriend.” I ignore Vickie’s epic groan. “And Ethan is Dad’s guest. To be honest, I don’t even know why he’s here.”

“Tar, darling, come on,” the evil one says. “As hot as your daddy is, Ethan is not here for him.” Vick and I both cringe at Cheryl’s words describing our dad.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I tell her. I yank open the fridge and stare into it. Vickie walks up behind me and closes it. “When are we eating?” I ask. “I’m starving. And I want my presents.”

They both take a step closer and stare. I let out a deep breath and sit on the kitchen island.

“First of all, Ethan Bradford hates my guts.” When they both scoff, I suck down the rest of my wine and hold my glass up for a refill. As soon as Vickie fills my glass, I continue talking. “You don’t understand. He really hates me. I was upset because he bought the company right from under us, and I understand that’s for the best, but it still hurt. I’ve wanted to run Taylor Toys with Dad all my life. We had words the first time he showed up at the office. Then, when he called and demanded that I open the store early for him and his son, I basically told him to go to hell. And because he’s the sort of guy who’s never been told no in his entire coddled life, he went and snitched on me to Dad, who ordered me to not only open the store but to be his personal tour guide. This is just his way of sticking it to me. That’s all.” I leave out the part about the kiss, and how sweet he was to me about my mother screwing me over. I can still feel his warm hand on my face. The smell of his cologne has yet to leave me despite my hot shower and drowning myself in Chanel No. 5.

“The way he looks at you has nothing to do with hate,” Cheryl says.

“Fine. Well, I hate him. Does that count with you two?” I ask.

“No man would spend his holiday here just to stick it to you. Unless he was sticking you with his—” Cheryl elbows Vickie, stopping her from finishing her thoughts.

“Vick has a point, darling. The man nearly broke his neck looking up the stairs while you were getting ready.”

“But I’m with Michael. I love—”

“Please don’t you dare finish that lie,” Vickie warns.

“Whatever, Vick. I’m not interested in Ethan. Am I still allowed that?” I ask my sister.

I know she wants to argue, but thankfully the doorbell rings, and a few seconds later, Dad and the rest of the guys walk into the kitchen with two Asian men behind them.

“What’s going on?” I ask. As soon as the words leave my mouth, the smell of the food assails me. “Dad, evil one, I told you, you didn’t need to order Thai food.”

“Wasn’t us,” my dad says.

My stomach drops as I remember the conversation I had with Ethan, but then I chase the thought away.

“Michael?”

Vickie snorts.

“Michael, did you know about Tar’s love for Thai food?” Vickie asks. Michael shrugs and gives a humorless smile.

I close my eyes, count to five, and look into the clear blue eyes of Ethan Bradford, but I slam my eyes shut and look away before I can read anything into the look he’s giving me.

“Maybe it was Mom,” Alan says as he walks into the kitchen with Vincent right behind him. “Ouch!” he yells when Vick elbows him in the ribs. She whispers something in his ear, and he nods in agreement.

“Like Mom would think of anyone but herself. Maybe it was Vincent. Was it you, buddy?” Vincent giggles at Vick, but he runs right to me, and I lift him up.

“Was it you, Ethan?” Cheryl asks. She makes it a point to look at me before turning to look at him.

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