Page 13 of Runaway Bride for the Boss

Growing up being tossed from one foster home to another, with foster parents whose only concern was the paycheck from the state, has left me starved for that kind of love. I am so desperate for it that I am willing to do anything. That must be why I let myself become a fool for Larson. I shake my head, refusing to think about my ex and let him ruin my day.

I shift my gaze to Alexander’s side of the wall and frown as I notice that at one point, he stopped smiling in the pictures. He’s smiling in his junior prom photo and then in the next frame, a photo taken during his senior prom—each milestone written beneath the photo—his features are grim.

What happened to him? A shiver crawls up my spine with the thought.

“Enjoying yourself?”

I jolt at the unexpected voice and spin around, my heart in my throat. Alex. Where did he come from? I clear my throat, dropping my hand from my chest.

“Alex, you startled me.”

“That was not my intention. I apologize.” The corner of his lips turns up a little. “What was nice?”

“What?” I frown, not understanding the question.

“During dinner when Andrea and Ezra were arguing, you laughed. And when I asked what was so funny, you said it’s nice. What was nice?” he elaborates.

“Oh,” I shrug. “The interaction. I was a foster kid, and most kids in the system are all about getting a decent home for themselves. I’ve never really seen dynamic sibling interaction. And when I got a load of this place when we drove in, I wasn’t—” I trail off, covering my mouth with my hand.

Alex raises a sardonic brow. “You weren’t expecting to see Andrea and Ezra bickering because we’re rich?”

“It’s just nice is all,” I say lamely. He’s about to say something more, but Andrea walks into the hallway.

“Alexander.” Andrea nods at him as she drops a protective hand on my shoulder. “I just said goodbye to Mom. We’re about to hit the road.”

“I see,” Alex replies, gaze shifting between Andrea and me.

“So, we’ll see you at home then?” She doesn’t wait for his reply. She simply waves at him and leads me to the stairs. I can’tresist glancing back; a rush of adrenaline fills my veins when I see his gaze is already on me.

I quickly look away.

“Stay away from Alex,” Andrea warns in a low voice as we walk toward the driveway where her car is parked. I blink at her in surprise.

“Shit, and Ezra too,” she adds as we get into the car. “Just trust me. Stay away from both of them. It’s for your own good. Promise me, Autumn, that you’ll stay away from my brothers.”

I don’t understand why she feels the need to give me this warning, but she’s the only friend I have here. The only person keeping me from drifting in a strange town. It’s easy to give her my word. “I promise.”

“Good.” She nods in satisfaction and turns on the ignition. She waves cheerfully at Martha, who’s watching us through the front window, as we drive off the Beaufort estate. And it is an estate. Similar to Alex’s compound, there are small houses visible in the distance where I assume the staff live.

When I first met Andrea, I assumed she came from maybe the upper middle class. Then she took me to her brother’s, and I had a reality check. And now her parents’ house? This place is practically a castle set at the base of a mountain. They must berichrich. Old money.

While I’m yet to see armed guards patrolling the grounds, the men stationed at the entrance of the black wrought iron gate scream KEEP AWAY. Why would Andrea run a bar when the Beaufort family is clearly loaded?

Better question: why do the Beauforts need protecting? First the electric paneling at Andrea’s place above the bar, then Alex’s gated mansion and this place. They’re just a family-owned construction company, who are they trying to keep out?

Who lives in gated compounds in small towns? By definition, aren’t small towns the antithesis of crimes? Aren’t small townsconsidered one of the safest places to live? But then again, I don’t really know what it’s like to have the kind of money they have. The Beauforts are certainly a mystery–an intriguing one.

It’s dark by the time Andrea pulls into Alex’s driveway, and I’m exhausted. We walk into the house quietly, only speaking when it’s time to part on the first floor. “The bar opens at six pm tomorrow. I’ll show you the ropes then,” Andrea says.

“That sounds great,” I say with a genuine smile. I start to open my door, but hesitate. “Andrea, thanks for today. And yesterday…and the day before that. Thanks for everything.”

She gives me a wide smile, her blue eyes glinting with mirth. “My pleasure, Autumn. Sleep tight!”

“I wantyou to just watch Keith and I work today since you have no prior experience bartending, but that doesn’t mean I won’t teach you the basics. It might get really busy if it rains again, and then we’ll need your help. Plus Keith isn’t coming in tomorrow, so I really hope you’re a fast learner,” Andrea states as she leads me behind the bar.

I swallow hard. It’s barely four, but we’re at Liquid Elixir two hours before the doors open so I can start to learn the ropes of my new job. It’s a small wood-paneled space with a wood burning fireplace and antique accents: the perfect spot to hide from the cool weather outside.

There are tall, dark wood stools stretched out in front of the glass-topped bar. Vintage lamps spill low light across the room, making the space feel intimate and welcoming. The entire ambiance begs patrons to stop in for a drink and then coaxes them into staying all night lost in conversation. I feel myselfrelaxing as I take in the space, grateful to have found a place that I can belong.

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