She got a really bad headache.
She worked as late as she was allowed in the office. And then, unwilling to face the bazillion basil plants in her apartment, she set up at the twenty-four hour diner down the road from her apartment. She surfed the Internet, put an SOS call out on the pop-up’s Facebook page and drank coffee in desperation. But she was getting nowhere fast.
She rested her elbows on the table and held her head in her hands. Eyes closed.
“Everything okay?”
She jumped. Oh hell. Xander stood by her booth.
“Of course. I’m fine.” She forced a bright smile. She so didn’t want to go into any of this with him.
“Really?” He dropped into the seat opposite, bringing his eyes to the same level as hers. “Why don’t you try answering that one again.” His expression was implacable but he sounded concerned. “You know you can tell me anything, Chelsea.”
Could she? There was one thing she’d told no one. And she wasn’t going there today. Today was all and only about work. Even so, it distressed her and she didn’t want to fall apart in front of him. Yesterday’s emo nightmare had been more than enough. But there was no getting away from his determination. She was just going to have to stay tough, matter of fact—unemotional. “My space has fallen through.”
“Your space?” He frowned.
“My 3 by 3. For the pop-up pizza.” She swallowed back the painful lump in her throat. No tears. She didn’t want to cry and cling and complicate. She didn’t want to force him to offer the kind of comfort he didn’t want to have to. He’d known all along about her history and while he’d been waiting for her to open up, she also knew that part of him didn’t really want to deal with her personal fallout. He’d only wanted fun. Originally he’d only wanted one afternoon.
He looked surprised. “But you’re building this week?”
“Not anymore.” She sighed. “The construction crew putting up his permanent building came to him ready to start much sooner than originally thought so the two weeks space is now nothing.” The two weeks it had going to be a cute little pizza parlour.
She looked at the table between them, trying to sharpen her brain and think of solutions, as she’d been trying these last six hours. “I could put it on the back of a truck,” she mused aloud, mainly to stop herself from looking longingly at him. “But I’d really wanted it to become part of the local environment. To be green from the outside.” She shook her head. “I’m just going to have to find somewhere else.”
But at such short notice? Property in Manhattan was premium, the island wasn’t getting any bigger. She’d never manage it. And now she had a thousand basil plants taking up every spare inch in her apartment for no reason and an on-loan pizza oven taking up valuable space in Wroxton HQ. It would never be fired up.
She finally looked back into Xander’s eyes. He was watching her too closely. Now he reached across and put a hand over hers—not a sensual touch, but a supportive one.
She stiffened, determined to hold herself in check. Because she didn’t want pity, didn’t want him to empathize, didn’t want him to be all understanding and kind. She’d lose it completely.
She sat back, slipping her hand out from under his. “I’d better keep working on it,” she said.
He froze. “You want me to go?”
“I’m going to spend the night online trying to find alternative venues.” She gestured at her laptop.
If he didn’t leave shortly she’d break down in front of him. That was the last thing either of them wanted.
“Alright,” he said coolly. “I’ll leave you in peace.” He slid out from the booth and stood. “You know if you don’t want company, you should lock yourself in your apartment.”
She closed her eyes in frustration he walked out of the diner without a backwards glance. He was chilly, and pretty much had every right to be.
She’d failed. Not only on the pop-up front. Her months in New York were going to be a total washout.
Chapter Seventeen
Early in the morning Xander laced his shoes, still mulling Chelsea’s problem. His problem. Serving pizza by the slice in a pop-up pizzeria made of plants for a couple of weeks might an ‘out there’ idea, but he’d wanted to see it work. More importantly, she’d needed to see it work. She needed to have her interim beautiful something to see her out of her personal wreckage.
But he’d been cut by her dismissal last night. Hell, for a moment he’d thought she was looking all sad and weary because of him. As if. Then she couldn’t have made it clearer that she didn’t want his help. But he’d helped her with the plants the other night without asking and she’d coped okay with that, so what had been the difference?
He loped down the stairs, checking his watch. He was on time. Hunter was just walking through the foyer and they broke into an easy stride without saying anything. Five minutes later Xander managed a laugh as he saw Logan and Rocco heading towards them.
Logan’s running outfit looked like he thought it was winter. Long sweats, long sleeves, a cap pulled low and sunglasses large enough to cover half his face. The newly grown beard covered the other half.
“What’s with the disguise? This because you’re a sex celebrity now?” Hunter teased as they turned along the pavement, almost at the park.
Logan muttered foul things under his breath.
Xander chuckled. For Logan to be this bothered was unusual. He was already a celebrity of sorts what with his skiing record, and having become the ‘face’ of his company. Normally Logan never eschewed media attention.
“You’re really not proud of it are you?” Rocco commented from a half pace behind. “Just forget about it.”
“I have forgotten about it,” Logan growled, his feet thudding faster. “It’s the family who haven’t.”
Xander winced. He knew how hard Logan’s father could be. The guy sliced away emotional support with a single look. The ultimate lack of forgiveness. For all the extra-marital activities he might have indulged in himself, the old devil was always discreet and expected his sons to be the same. He’d hate the playboy notoriety Logan had earned. And it was getting to Logan. It was obvious from the grim line of Logan’s lips—the slight pallor encircling them. He was having it tough. Well, Xander could do some distraction for him. “Rocco, I need a favor.”
“Sure, what?”
Xander grinned at his buddy’s agreement before he’d even heard the request—but he knew it wasn’t really going to fly. Not with Roc. “I need some space. About 3 by 3.”
“Inside the hotel?” Rocco frowned. “You can have a whole suite if you want.”
“No I need a space outside—where the public walk. For a stall.”
“A stall? Like a bake sale or something?” Hunter asked dryly, sounding as incredulous as he ever got.
Xander tried to explain the concept as best he could—and then cajoled. “Come on Roc, can you do it for me?”
“Planning, permission…” Rocco shrugged, a negating gesture.
“They love you,” Xander argued. “You’ve brought so much traffic into the area. So many consumers.”
“Hell, sorry Xan, but you’re never going to get a pop-up pizza joint in my block.” Rocco pulled an apologetic face.
“Logan? You can find me a space. I know you can.” Xander looked at his quarry. “You have contacts like no one else.”
“This is that important to you?” Logan took off his cap and wiped the sweat from his brow before tugging the hat down low again.
“Not to me, but...” he trailed off and saw the sly grin flash over Logan’s face. Shit. How easily had he walked into that trap?
“And she’s what’s important to you.” Logan had it already.
“No.” Xander gritted his teeth, refusing to think that even in private moments. “But she’s had a tough time. I’d like to see her have some success.”
Logan’s jaw tightened. “Never seen you this way. Why so keen to please her? You pussy whipped?”
“Must you be so crude, you asshole.” Xander curled his fingers into fists.
“Like that’s not crude?” Hunter chipped in.
“You not bagged her yet?” Logan continued to taunt. “Your technique slipping?”
“I’m not discussing this with you.” Xander deliberately pushed faster, ahead of the pack. The group of walkers coming in the other direction quickened their pace to get out of way.
“Clamming up?” Logan provoked, a bare pace behind. “Even more of a sign you’re a broken man.”
“I can still beat you Logan. Don’t push it.”
Logan strode up to match Xander’s punishing strides. “I think we’re an even match,” he puffed. “She’s really got you hanging. Holding out on you.”
She was and she wasn’t. She’d looked at him with her big eyes and let him do anything he wanted. Which wasn’t enough. Which in itself was insane. He didn’t get himself at all. “Just find me a damn space.”
Logan was silent for twenty yards. Then he sighed. “I’ll need to check it out. I’ll see what I can do.”