Page 3 of Crazy In Love
Emilia Taylor was hot, no argument there.
But she’d always had it out for me, and unfortunately for her, I paid attention to that kind of shit.
“Because they’re friends, dipshit,” Easton said, shaking his head with disbelief. “And if it’s not her, you’re going to owe her a big apology.”
“I welcome it. If she can prove it’s not her, I’m happy to apologize.” I smirked. Apologies were not my strong suit.
All three of them laughed at the same time as I leaned back in my chair, gaze moving to the dance floor.
“I don’t know that I’ve ever heard you apologize to anyone but Mom,” Rafe said.
“Well, that’s how it goes when you’re rarely wrong.” I tossed some cash on the table to cover the bill. “I’m out of here. I’ve got to be in the city early tomorrow morning for a meeting.”
“Start working on that apology, brother. I think she’s determined to prove her innocence,” Rafe said with a wink.
I rolled my eyes and gave him the finger. “I’ll be waiting with bated breath.”
My phone rang as I walked out of the bar, and it was my pilot, Lars. “Hey, boss,” he said.
“Did you get my message? Just a quick there and back tomorrow.” I walked the short distance to my house. It was large and sat above the river, with what I thought was the best view of the water and the mountains.
“Yes, sir. I’ll meet you at the helicopter pad at seven a.m.”
“See you then.” I ended the call and paused when I walked through downtown and passed the Vintage Rose. Emilia Taylor’sfloral shop. I noted the remnants of egg still on the windows, but it looked like most of it had been scrubbed off the building. Who the hell had she hired for cleanup? Because they clearly did a half-assed job, and I’d fire their ass if I were her.
I continued walking as I dialed my right-hand man, a guy I counted on immensely. Brenner Layton and I attended college together, and he was with me when I launched my software company many years ago, and had been every day since. He did a little bit of everything—the behind-the-scenes shit that I had no patience for. In fact, there wasn’t anything this dude didn’t do.
“What’s up?” he said when he answered the call.
“Can you look into the cameras on Main Street downtown and see if there’s a camera pointing at the Vintage Rose floral shop? They got vandalized, and I’m just curious if it was kids or if someone’s going to start hitting all the businesses downtown.”
“On it,” he said. “Is this business or personal?”
If it was personal, he’d stay up all night and get it done. I knew that, because I knew him well. “It’s definitely business.”
“All right, I’ll get after it in the morning, and I’ll have something for you tomorrow by end of day.”
“Thanks.” I ended the call.
It was definitely business.
Nothing about Emilia Taylor was personal.
two
. . .
Emilia
“Here you go, Josh,”I said as I handed him the wrapped bundle of pink roses.
“Just so you know, Emilia, these are for my mother,” he said as he looked at me for an uncomfortable amount of time before continuing. “They aren’t for a special lady.”
“Well, thanks for the tidbit,” I said, quickly ringing him up as he held out his card for me to swipe.
Josh Black and I had grown up together, and his family owned the Green Basket grocery store. He loved to stop in and buy flowers for his mother, which was obviously very sweet, although the awkward explanation every single time made me dread him walking through the door. “Tell your mom I said hello.”
I looked up when the bells chimed, and I saw Bridger Chadwick pull the door open.
