I grin and tease, “You’ll still get to date her. You’ll just have to get beaten by her first.” I take his hand. “Come on. No dropping out. We’re in this to the end. Or until my ice cream melts into a puddle and I’m disqualified.”
He groans as we start toward the tent, hand in hand. “Fucking hot as balls out here. I don’t know what they expect us to do in this weather. Hard to achieve culinary brilliance with the heat and the wind blowing sand into everything and tourists tracking hypodermic needles into the tent.” He wrinkles his nose at the beach. “I actually tried to walk across the sand the first time I was here. Won’t make that mistake again. It’s a bloody hazardous waste dump out there.”
I laugh. “Oh, but it’s so much better than it used to be. You have no idea. It used to be super dirty. Scary, too.”
As we stroll, I regale him with stories of the creepy Coney Island freak show my dad took my brother and me to when I was seven. “Harrison had to lead me through it like a blind person,” I add, “because I was too terrified to open my eyes.”
“Good brother,” West observes. “I’d like to meet him. Since you’ve already completely seduced my sister, I figure I should start getting on your brother’s good side sometime soon.”
I nod and squeeze his hand a little tighter. “You should. It’ll be easy. He’ll like you.” I grin. “So, Abby likes me, huh?”
“Love at first sight,” he says. “You’d better watch out or—” He breaks off with a glare as we near the tent. “What is that wretched man up to now?”
I follow his gaze to see Hawley in a yellow polo shirt crouched beneath one of the cook stations, taking the bottom off one of the ice-cream makers with a screwdriver.
Before I can warn West that we should go to one of the organizers instead of calling out another contestant for potential foul play, West is jogging across the wooden pier and into the tent, clearly ready to rumble.
24
West
I can count the times I’ve hit a man on one hand.
On two fingers, in fact.
Once when I was on holiday in Greece and some drunk wanker thought I’d touched his girlfriend’s arse—I hadn’t—and threw the first punch.
I threw the next, he stumbled over on the sand and stayed there, and that was that.
The second time was at a bachelor party. The bachelor, a poorly chosen friend from my investment banking days, got handsy with the stripper and punched me when I tried to intervene. I gave him a black eye that ruined the wedding photos the next day.
Or so I was told.
I was uninvited after I wrapped the stripper in my coat and gave her a ride to her flat.
I’m not a violent man and have never thrown the first punch, but for some reason, I desperately want to hit Hawley. And not just because he’s apparently fucking with the equipment in an attempt to cheat his way to the top.
No, it’s because of Gigi.
Of what she said the other night.
You should be more kind and careful with a lover than a friend.
She’s so fucking right. And instead of being kind or careful with my sister, this man made Abby feel like she’s a fool who doesn’t deserve to be treasured or adored. And yes, Hawley’s been a piece of shit for a while now, but the way I feel for Gigi brings home in a new way just how nightmarish it is to accept a woman’s trust and then violate it so brutally.
And the fact that he did that to my sweet, smart, lovely sister…
Smash.
I want to smash his face and worry about the consequences later.
Thankfully, Willow pops into my line of sight before I can do anything rash.
“Hey, West,” she says with an only slightly shy smile. “I saw the crowd outside your place this morning. Congratulations on the amazing opening!”
“Thank you.” I divide my attention between Hawley, who’s now placing the device he was tampering with on the countertop in front of him, and Willow, in front of me. “It was a wonderful surprise. My sister was very excited. And relieved. She’s been more worried about the bottom line.”
“That’s great, though, to have someone focused on that,” Willow says, pushing her glasses up her nose. “I wish I had a money person. And I wish it wasn’t so hot.”
“Boiling,” Gigi agrees as she joins us, hooking her arm through my elbow and shooting a curious look up at me that asks Are you okay?
I sigh. “I’m fine. Willow saved me from myself.” Willow frowns and I explain, “I was on my way to punch Hawley. Or perhaps something slightly less violent, but still inappropriate.”
“It seemed like he was tampering with some of the equipment,” Gigi explains. “But it looks like it’s for his station, so…”