Xander smiled. He’d known he could rely on his cousin—for all his grump. “Just don’t let her find out we’re behind it.”
“You sure that’s wise?” Logan asked.
“She’ll never know,” said Xander.
“Women always know. They have their ways.” Hunter came abreast of them. “They always find out. Question is whether it’s going to be worth the fall out.”
Xander thought about it for all of two seconds. Chelsea might be mad, but he figured he could get around that. She’d be too pleased to have gotten her pizzas cooking.
Chapter Eighteen
Chelsea worked the phones like she’d never worked them before. Failed at the first fifteen calls—and the next fifteen. She probably needed to do this in person with the plans and her artist impressions to help people understand what she was on about. But she didn’t have time. As it was she was squeezing all these calls in amongst the data entry, filing and design mock-ups she was supposed to be doing as part of her internship. Fortunately Steve had turned out to be an awesome ally and a whiz at data entry. And even though she knew it was a lost cause already, given the pop-up had been scheduled to be built and go live this week, she refused to give up. She was not a quitter.
Except for when it came to Xander. But she wasn’t about to fight a battle she could never win. He’d had enough. He’d called it. But she was mad with him—he wanted more, yet wouldn’t give more. He had walls of steel around his heart and he wasn’t going to let anyone break them down.
Fine. She wasn’t going to hurt herself by trying. She wasn’t going to think about him any more.
“Hey Chels, you seen this?” Steve called across the small office.
She walked over to read the screen over his shoulder. “No way,” she breathed. “No way. Is it for real?”
Steve picked up the phone and handed it to her. “Only one way to find out.”
Some random company had put an offer of a tiny site on the Facebook page she’d created to detail and publicize the event. Her fingers trembled as she pushed the buttons to contact the person listed. Was it legit or not?
Xander couldn’t stay away. Late in the evening he walked down to the site with Hunter matching his stride. A small square structure was perched on the corner of a construction zone. Logan had worked damn fast—the legend. But Chelsea had worked even faster. To have achieved this in less than twenty-four hours?
But Xander couldn’t smile. He was thinking about her every second, every minute, every hour of this damn long day. Still dreaming up the most outrageous scenarios to see how far she’d get before she got the giggles. Not that there was any point in thinking that way. It was over.
But he couldn’t stay away. How she’d gotten the foundations done so quick he didn’t know. Then he saw the two builders grinning and chatting with her and figured it. It also ticked him off.
She glanced over and saw him. Her expression changed completely—instantly lighting. He felt an intense sense of pleasure that she responded so swiftly, so naturally like that. He couldn’t stop his own huge grin back. She might smile for others, but she ignited for him.
“Been sweet-talking guys to help you out again?” he teased as she walked towards him. He wished she’d sweet-talk him.
“They’re sponsors actually,” she answered earnestly. “I’m putting a sign up thanking their company.”
Yeah, it wasn’t for the company promo that those guys were working late. “It’s looking good.”
“Thanks,” she answered.
That’s when the awkwardness arose. It was like she’d just remembered they weren’t ‘together’ any more. Her face flooded with color and she turned away. “How did you find us?” she asked.
He held up his phone with her Facebook page on it.
“Oh.” She bit her lip and nodded. “Well you want to take a closer look? It’s getting there.” She walked him over towards the small shack.
It really was small, just big enough for the pizza oven and the work counter and a space under the roof for customers to linger while waiting for their pizzas.
They’d placed the plants all over the roof but were still working on filling the walls. She was putting the herbs in patterns—vertical stripes. It was amazing.
He watched as she bent and picked up some tools and a plant, readying to get back to work.
“When did you get so handy with a hammer?” he asked.
“And wire.” She laughed. “Needs must, right?”
Steve was in the far corner inside the small structure, stacking wood next to the small wood fired pizza oven.
Xander had to hand it to her. Was there anything—aside from getting into water— she couldn’t do?
“Are you going to make and serve the pizza as well?” he asked.
“Sometimes. But I wanted a stereotypical ‘Italian chef’ to engage the customers. See?” She pointed out the wall decorations.
Xander stepped closer to inspect them properly. In amongst the few plants that had already been placed were framed prints of the supposed ‘chef’ with famous New Yorkers. Xander frowned. ‘Luigi’ was in the same pose in every single image—the ‘guy’ was clearly Photoshopped in. “He’s not even Italian, is he?”
“No.” Chelsea started to laugh.
“And not even a ‘he’?”
She turned and waved towards the pavement. “See for yourself. He’s coming to do a test run.”
Sure enough ‘Luigi’—in full costume—was walking towards them carrying a giant bowl.
“This is crazy,” Xander muttered.
“I prefer to think quirky,” Chelsea corrected. “It’s part of the fun. People have expectations of a pizza stand, but we’re flipping it and giving them something else—something that bit twisted. Expectation versus reality.”
Xander nodded and then wandered out to find Hunter. He’d been walking around the site giving it the full recon.
“Security issues here, Xan.”
“Multiple.”
Hunter nodded and studied the plant ready framing again. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but that Luigi guy isn’t a guy.”
“I had noticed.”
Hunter grunted then asked. “Why does she have some strip of girl cross-dressing as an ancient Italian guy?”
Xander shrugged. “Because she’s a little crazy.”
Hunter laughed. “So long as you realize it.”
“It’s okay,” Xander shrugged. “I’m a little crazy too.”
“I think I might be as well, because right now I’m finding the rear end of that old Italian guy an incredible turn on. You ever seen legs as long as those?”
Xander laughed. “Jeez Hunt, you’ve been in the desert too long.” The girl was a stick figure.
“Reckon so.” Hunter moved.
Xander went back to the counter to talk to Chelsea. Hunter was right, the security issues needed fixing. This time as he went under the framing, the scent hit him—all the herbs, the fresh dough Luigi was working on, the vibrant color of the tomato sauce. It looked fresh and good. There was a touch of Wonderland about the whole place. Xander thought it was delightful—but vulnerable. He looked around it again, focussing on the problem areas. “Is that Luigi creature going to be alone in here at night?” he quietly asked Chelsea who was still squeezing pots of herbs into place in the walls.
“Another of the volunteers will be around,” she answered distractedly.
Not Chelsea—not if Xander had anything to do with it. “A real man?”
At that she turned, a basil plant in hand. “You know on the surface you seem so apple pie.”
He frowned as he sized up the lack of lighting. What’d she mean by that?
“You know, the good old American upbringing—the apple of mom’s eye,” she explained. “Sporty, academic, successful. Life guard, ski patrol…”
Yeah, he still didn’t get where she was going, he was more interested in the lack of security cameras and wondering how he could install them without her thinking they were too intrusive and not artsy enough. “And your point?”
She cocked her head on a cute angle, an even cuter smile curved her lips. “Yet you’re constantly scoping places for security issues. How did you get into this? What made you so interested in it?”
He stopped his automatic site scrutiny and stared at her—clocking the bright curiosity in her eyes. She’d asked him for personal info before, but he’d denied her mostly. That, he suddenly realized, was his mistake. She wanted to know—she wanted to understand more about him. Maybe, just maybe, it was a way to build up some real trust between then. And while there were some things he’d never tell anyone, he could give her a little more than just sex secrets.
Chelsea smiled as she watched him automatically glance round again before turning towards her. She’d noticed it before—the way he scoped for threats, the weaknesses of wherever they happened to be. She could tell by the way his eyes had narrowed that he’d found plenty of weaknesses in the pop-up.
“I’m good at security because I know the mind of the criminal. The thief,” he said quietly.