Page 38 of Burning Rivalry

“I believe you.” He didn’t look convinced, leaving me to stare at him in surprise. “I mean it. I believe you.” I sensed his concern with my opinion. I saw it in his steady, intense stare. Why is it so important to him that I believed him?

“Thank you.” A smile tugged the corners of his mouth, almost sheepish. It made him look younger. “Somehow, knowing you believe me makes a difference. I’m no angel, but I’m not an asshole. Not that kind of asshole,” he amended when I couldn’t hide a smirk.

“Sorry, but you know you can be.” I pulled my feet back when he reached out, growling like he was about to tickle them. “And Kristoff is a petty little bitch.” Now, I wished I hadn’t been so nice to him when he introduced himself. The dick. Going to all this trouble over a grudge when the girl wasn’t even into him. What a loser.

“Just for that, I will not take your feet,” he decided.

Rolling my eyes, I replied, “Oh, thank you.”

I should have known better.

All at once, he grabbed them, holding my ankles under one arm and tickling the soles until I screamed and squirmed, begging for mercy.

Not that I really wanted him to stop.

Not when it felt this nice and natural.

When was the last time somebody had taken care of me?

It was a question that echoed in the back of my mind long after we decided to call it a night. It wasn’t like I was in a hurry to fall asleep since a very big part of me wanted to live in the moment, the small spoon to his much bigger spoon.

How was it that Sebastian Kennedy, of all people, knew exactly what I needed and how I needed it?

15

SEBASTIAN

I wanted to do this about as much as I’d want a root canal.

There was no choice but to sit and play nice in my restaurant dining room, which I had chosen specifically for this meeting. I wanted this asshole on my home turf. This was as close as Kristoff would ever get to one of my restaurants again.

“I don’t know why I never came in.” He looked around the room, studying everything with those beady rat eyes of his, though he did his best to look casual.

Let him. Let him see everything he wanted to see. It was the last chance he’d get.

“Please. I, of all people, know how busy you must be.” Did I ever. “I can’t even tell you the last time I saw my housekeeper. I’m hardly ever home long enough to give her any work to do.”

“Well, I can see why customers have raved about this food for so many years.” He dragged a crust of bread through the rich bolognese left on his plate, sopping up every last drop of what had simmered for eight hours. “It’s fantastic. So flavorful.”

That was about as much ass-kissing as I could take. I hadn’t brought him here to remind him what good cooking tasted like, though it was a bonus. As it was, sitting across from him all this time had strained my patience to its limit. “There’s something I think we need to discuss. I would like to clear the air once and for all.”

It was funny how his eyes darted back and forth before he said anything, like he was looking around, confused as to why I would bring this up in the open among my diners. The restaurant was beginning to empty out after our last seating, with only a few latecomers still lingering over dessert and coffee. “Don’t worry, I won’t start hurling accusations in front of the public,” I assured him with a tight, empty smile I couldn’t maintain for long. “But this does need to be said.”

I paused before dropping the hammer, savoring his strain. “Enough fucking around. I’m onto you now. I know what you’ve done.”

His Adam’s apple bobbed. “Fucking around? I don’t understand.”

Playing dumb. How original. “In my office, I have a series of documents detailing your involvement with a few issues I’ve had over these past several months, ever since I announced my expansion. Don’t waste my time,” I warned when he had the nerve to look stricken, surprised. “I found out who you paid off to schedule that inspection we almost failed with for no reason. I know the names of your contacts in the union. And I’m sure your girlfriend told you I dropped her like a bad habit last week,” I concluded.

“Girlfriend?” He blurted out a laugh. “I don’t have a girlfriend.”

“Fuck buddy, employee you finger every once in a while. I don’t care about the specifics. I know you sent her here as a spy.” He still had the nerve to sputter, deepening my thirst to put him in his place. “Don’t insult my intelligence by denying it. I’m telling you enough,” I concluded, watching the blank shock that came over him once I went silent. It was like he knew I had him cornered, and there was no point pretending anymore.

Still, he managed to disappoint me. “I admit, I knew Marissa applied for a job after leaving my restaurant, but as for the rest of it⁠—”

“I’ve given the information to my lawyers,” I concluded, finishing what was left of my scotch while he processed this. “They seem to think I have enough to press charges, thanks to the way your pals squealed like stuck pigs at the slightest bit of pressure. I don’t think you paid them enough,” I added in a whisper, barely fighting off a laugh when his face fell.

He still found the nerve to lift his chin and puff out his chest. “So that’s what this is all about? I cannot believe you would make these accusations.” Oh, yes. Kristoff Darden’s School of Acting. This was the part where he became the wounded party to deflect from the truth of the accusations. I had seen it more times than I cared to remember throughout the days of our friendship, that is, if we were ever really friends. If anything, we were roommates who hung out sometimes. When you’re young, you don’t understand the difference.