Page 24 of Players Like Us
“What’s really got you worried, Daniel? Is it the fact that we’re having this discussion and you’re going to have to tell my sister about it—” the silver gaze burned him “—because you are going to tell her about it. Or are you worried she’s asked Neal to gather the information?”
The guy just saw too damn much. “Of course I’m going to tell Meredith and you don’t have to give me that you-will-do-this stare. I’m never going to repeat what happened between us, and you should know that.” The nod indicated Tate did know and the hint of a smile said he was just checking up on him. “As to the other? Should I feel excited that the person checking up on my sister is someone who spends his life partying and womanizing? That does not leave me with a good feeling.”
“Oh, yes. I understand.” He held up a hand to stop Daniel from whatever he’d been about to say. “I’m not talking about you this time. I’m referring to myself and the Donovans. Rogan warned me off of Charlotte years ago, and he was right at the time. But he also caused a lot of grief for us, and it continued when we both returned to Reunion Gap. That guy was not going to trust an Alexander, and he acted pretty much the way I did when I caught you sniffing around Meredith with the whole pretense to be somebody you weren’t… It was a mess but look how that turned out?”
Daniel’s chest squeezed with emotion when he thought of his wife. Meredith was his destiny, his heart and soul, the best and kindest person he’d ever known. She was the reason his work flowed, his attitude had shifted, and he was happy. Filled with joy and hope and real gratitude. “I just don’t want my sister to get hurt, but it’s not only that. Rachel’s a spitfire, and she can get into enough trouble on her own without anybody’s help. Put those two together and who knows what might happen?” He dragged both hands over his face, muttered a curse. “She could take him down and he might never see it coming.”
“I don’t think there’s a lot we can do about it, but I can check in with Neal, see what he’s up to... He may or may not share, but it’s worth a try.”
Tate Alexander was a master tactician. “What’s your plan?” If Tate had a plan, it was usually a good one.
“A birthday party for Meredith…and Neal.” The sparkle in those blue eyes said he’d only begun to plan. “If he’s one of the guests of honor, he can’t very well refuse to attend now, can he?”
Yup, Tate was a brilliant tactician. “It’s not like Rachel can ignore the request because it’s her sister-in-law’s birthday, right?” Oh, yes, he liked this idea. Get Rachel and Neal in the same room, make sure nothing was happening, and do their own information gathering. He bet in a few days, they could gather enough information to not only figure out what Rachel was doing, who she was hanging out with, and what her life looked like, but they could also see if there was anything going on between her and Neal Alexander. “That is one fantastic idea.”
Tate grinned. “I thought so. Now all we have to do is work out the details.”
15
Neal Alexander flipped through the samples of fabric and leather Rachel had brought for Dominic to review. Apparently, Dominic didn’t trust his own judgment when it came to the décor of the restaurant and opted for the tastes of the man he claimed knew restaurants better than anyone he’d ever met. Of course, he hadn’t mentioned that man’s name when he offered her the contract, so why would she assume the “expert” was still involved in any capacity?
Except apparently he was...
When she spotted him in the booth at Matilda’s, studying fabric samples, she realized he was definitely still part of this project, even though Dominic failed to mention it. She heaved a sigh, prepared for the sarcasm and snide comments, maybe even a few glares and another warning to stay away from Simon Bainbridge.
But the cold shoulder, as in freezing, not interested, and don’t care?
That, she had not expected.
Hello, Rachel. Nice to see you again. How have you been?
No warmth in those words, no sparkle of humor in the blue eyes...nothing but ice.
I’m well, thank you.
A quick nod and then he turned to the fabric and leather samples she’d left with Dominic. Now about these…
Forty-five minutes later, Rachel began to wonder what had happened to the Neal Alexander she’d seen a few weeks ago. If she didn’t look at his face but concentrated on his voice and the words he spoke, he could be Tate Alexander. In charge. Knowledgeable. A businessman intent with his current project. She slid a glance at him, caught the intense expression as he made notes on the fabric selection and leather style and color. They sat across from one another in the booth, but she still caught a hint of his cologne: fresh, like an ocean breeze. He’d been furious when he visited her apartment, but now? She had to think hard to reconstruct those moments, put emotion back into the man.
And when he looked at her or spoke, his tone contained no hint of warmth, interest, or curiosity. It was pure business, courteous, detached, impersonal. “Dominic doesn’t trust his eye or his instinct when it comes to decorating, but he’s more than capable.” Neal sat back in the booth, eased his notes toward her. “See what you think about these choices and if you agree, let him know. If you don’t—” a shrug, followed by a noncommittal “—do what you think is best.”
No final approval from him? A twinge of disappointment swirled through her, settled in her gut. “You don’t want final approval or are you fairly certain I’ll agree with all of your suggestions?” Talk to me, Neal. Say something, anything. No jokes? No laugh or a smile? Even a stingy smile? Nothing?
Those blue eyes scanned the paper, did not look at her when he answered. “You know what you’re doing; either way you’ll make the right choice.”
Well. That certainly sounded like he’d lost interest in the project, and in keeping her away from Simon Bainbridge. What did she care? The man was a constant reminder of Reunion Gap and all of the wrong choices she’d made that disappointed her family so much. Of course, he’d claimed to have disappointed his family as well, but did she really want to get lumped into the same category as a reckless wanderer who hadn’t made a serious decision in years? Rachel studied the dark curls sweeping over his forehead, the strong hands…the straight nose…the determination that did not appear inconsequential or insignificant. Neal Alexander was a man on a mission, and that mission was to follow his friend’s request that he work with Rachel on the redesign of Matilda’s.
No more warnings about Simon Bainbridge. No comments about Reunion Gap or the fact that her brother was married to his sister. Nothing but business. Definitely no more invitations to check out the competition’s décor and set-up. That should make her happy. In fact, she should be delighted the man wouldn’t annoy or aggravate her any longer with his opinions about her personal life.
But she wasn’t, and that confused her. She’d never met anyone who challenged her as much as this man did. “Neal?” He glanced up, met her gaze and this time she did see a flash of emotion in those blue eyes…and heat. So much heat. “Are you still angry with me about the other day?”
One brilliant spark in those eyes and then nothing. “No, Rachel. This is just about business. Let’s keep it to that.”
The rest of the meeting moved in slow motion, though it only took another half-hour to work through the suggestions she’d made. They kept the conversation to the renovation, with no references to anything personal. Dominic delivered appetizers of spicy crab salad tapas, shrimp tartlets, and bacon wrapped apricot bites, all of which Neal refused. Rachel nibbled on a shrimp tartlet, but her stomach flip-flopped so many times she worried she’d be sick. Who would’ve thought that after swooning over Matilda’s menu, that there would come a time when she’d reject the mouth-watering food?
Hours later, when she was back in her apartment, far from Neal Alexander, she had to face the truth. He was behind the upset stomach, the stilted words, the inability to relax and think, and draw a clean breath. His whole personality had changed when he’d stormed out of her apartment after warning her against Simon. She’d pushed him away, insulted his behavior, and accused him of being the untrustworthy one. It had been almost three weeks since their argument and this afternoon, he treated her like a stranger. And that bothered her. A lot. The only question that mattered, the one she had no answer to was why did it bother her so darn much?
As she munched on pretzels and hummus, she replayed parts of the morning he came to her apartment, when she’d blasted him with accusations. He’d warned her about Simon, told her the man could not be trusted and that he was a user of women and relationships. And what had she done? She’d thrown those words right back at him, told him maybe he was talking about himself. The clenched jaw and squared shoulders hinted at anger but he didn’t show it. No, Neal Alexander controlled his emotions with a nod and a tight smile. Rachel Reese, interpreter of people and their intentions. Call me whatever you want but open your eyes and see him for what he is. You’re better than that and you’re worth more than that. It’s time you started treating yourself with the respect you deserve.
