Page 4 of Get Lost

Chapter Two

Being the chef responsible for his best friend and his ex-girlfriend’s wedding was not something Alexander Arroyo would have been able to picture for himself five years ago. In fact, five years ago, he hated them both with a fiery passion. But now, watching Renee Darcy sample the menu he put together for her upcoming wedding to his best friend in Barbados, Alex was the epitome of calm detachment. It didn’t even hurt to be around her anymore, which was, admittedly, a welcome change.

He’d dated Renee while in college, had even planned to marry her at one point, but after three years of trying, she’d thrown in the towel.

Alex had been blindsided.

But not nearly as blindsided as he was when she began dating his best friend.

At the time—five years ago now—Drew Harrington was everything Alex wasn’t, withfilthy richat the top of that list. Not that Renee went for Drew based on his family’s wealth alone—or at least, that Alex was aware of, anyway—but she sure did take to the lifestyle quickly. Drew was known for spoiling his girlfriends and Renee was no exception to that rule.

Alex kept his distance for a few years, his heart needing the time to heal, and his anger needing the time to burn brightly for a while, then eventually fizzle out. Patient, remorseful, and determined, Drew never gave up on him or the friendship they’d built since childhood, popping up from time to time with cold beers and apologies. Eventually, Alex forgave him for his relationship with Renee. Truthfully, Alex always assumed she’d eventually leave Drew the way she’d left Alex, but now they were two weeks away from a massive wedding and that scenario was looking less and less likely. Plus, Drew and Renee had outlasted Alex and Renee by two whole years. Good for them.

So Alex put on a brave face and got over the betrayal. For the most part. He loved Drew like a brother. Renee, however, was still one of his least favorite people. But, nevertheless, when Drew proposed that Alex take on the intense job of event chef for his nuptials with Renee, flight and accommodations included, Alex hesitated, but ultimately said yes. He knew well what kind of people would be in attendance, and showing off his culinary skills for this group of old money would be a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.

Alex was also, technically, the best man, but his focus was more on creating the perfect menu than it was on planning the perfect night of debauchery, or running errands for the groom, or doing anything even remotely tied to being the best man. Drew’s other groomsmen had teamed up to take over all best man responsibilities so that Alex could focus on the menu. He’d stand beside Drew during the ceremony, but other than that, for the duration of the Barbados trip, Alex would be in the kitchen. He’d be responsible for multiple meals throughout the weekend, and that required time, planning, and discipline.

Although, because Drew was relentless, Alex had eventually agreed to take off some time for important things like the bachelor party. In a matter of hours, he’d be heading to Vegas on the Hamilton family jet for one weekend of sin in the city that invented it.

But first, he had to get through this afternoon’s tasting.

His phone buzzed in his pocket, an email alert. His lips twitched. Would Kelsey have responded to him that quickly? He’d have to wait to see, as he may be friends with the groom, but he was still a professional chef hired to cater an extravagant wedding, and he would behave as such.

“This one.” Renee lifted her gaze to Alex, smiling around a mouthful of goat cheese bruschetta endive boats. Her eyes rolled back dramatically as she chewed. “So good, Allie.”

The nickname caused a muscle in his jaw to spasm, but he didn’t correct her. Old habits die hard, andAlliewas one he often wished would dieveryhard. Like, fiery death at the bottom of Mulholland Canyonhard. He cleared his throat and looked at his friend. “Drew?”

“Hmm?” Drew lifted his gaze from his editorial copy of West Coast Luxury Magazine, looking back and forth between Alex and Renee, a slight tightness at the corners of his eyes. “You know I’m happy with whatever appetizers the two of you choose.”

Renee turned more fully in her seat to face her fiancé. “Drew,” she whined. “Can you please put your little magazine down and help me?”

Alex raised his eyebrows. That little magazine created the empire Renee was about to marry into. It paid for that massive rock on her finger.

That Rolex on her wrist.

That Flying Spur she rolled up in.

That private jet she called “PJ” like she coined the term—

“We have only two weeks to finalize the menu,” Renee continued, “and Kelsey said—”

Alexander’s ears perked up at the mention of Kelsey.

“—we needed to give Allie way more time than this, and we still haven’t settled on the passed hors d’oeuvres.” She leaned over, whispering to Drew, “Sheimpliedwe were taking advantage of your friendship with our chef.”

“She did?” Drew cocked an eyebrow. “That doesn’t sound like the woman I know.”

“Andrew.” Renee sat back, clearly affronted. “You’ve met her, what,thrice?”

Drew had met Kelsey plenty of times over the years. Alex had known them both since childhood, albeit through different avenues, so they’d crossed paths plenty. Mentioning this to Renee, however, would likely set off a string of questions and lead them well off target.

And anyway, Drew was right:implyingsomething didn’t sound like Kelsey at all. That woman wouldn’timplyshit; she’d just say outright whatever was on her mind. Alex pulled his lips between his teeth to keep from smiling. He’d had a thing for Kelsey Sutton since she kissed him in first grade, then got herself sent to the principal’s office. Instantly irate, little Kelsey had insisted Alex accompany her to see the principal because, as she’d put it, he’d partaken in half of the kiss and was therefore half guilty.

Alex had been petrified.

But Kelsey? He’d be surprised ifanythingscared that girl. Even back then. She’d sat there in the office waiting room, arms crossed, face red from indignance, and a wild spark in her deep brown eyes. When they were finally called into the principal’s office, she was well ready to let him have it. She walked in, threw her hands on her little hips, and asked the man, point blank, why he held a double-standard for women.

She was six.

---