Carrie Worthington had been Aiden’s assistant for ten years, and she’d weathered Remi’s rebellion with him. She was in her late thirties, fiercely loyal, sharp as a tack, and one of the few people who could keep up with his busy schedule. Unfortunately, that loyalty hadn’t stopped her from shutting him down when he’d called and reporting the call to Remi. Luckily, his attorney was still taking his calls, which was how he’d been able to get the offer on the Bistro drafted and submitted.
“How much did you pay her to lock me out of my own company?”
“I didn’t have to pay her,” Remi insisted. “She worries about you, too. You know neither of us would ever jeopardize your business. By the way, she told me that you’ve already booked every minute after your vacation. You’re going overseas? We all know what that means.”
It meant he would work from sunup until well past sundown, just the way he liked it. “Remi, you know how important the quarterly meetings are. I’m not putting them off for this game of yours.”
“It’s not a game, Aiden. Carrie and Ben agreed to help me with this and make sure nothing slips through the cracks at your work, because everyone we know wants you to chill before you drive yourself to an early grave.” Her tone softened, and she said, “I know you’re not all I have anymore, but that doesn’t mean I don’t need you around. And you have two foster nieces who need you, too.”
“Then why did you exile me to this island?” And why did I let you?
“Because that’s how much I love you. Oh, that reminds me! I have to tell you what Patrice did last night . . .”
As Remi went on about her adorable foster daughter, Aiden walked to the side of the patio and caught sight of Abby riding a bike into the parking lot. Riding a bike was on his to-do list from Remi. He’d thought it was a frivolous idea, but as Abby climbed off hers, flashing that gorgeous smile he’d thought about all night, it was starting to look pretty damn good—and so was she in those sexy cutoffs and a white sweatshirt with CHILL emblazoned across her chest in black, as if Remi had conjured her out of thin air and sent her to him.
He waved as she locked up her bike, and Remi’s voice brought him back to their conversation. He’d lost track of what she was saying.
“Hey, Remi. I’ve got to go. I’m having breakfast with a friend. Kiss the kids for me, okay? Tell them I miss them, and I’m going to give them great gifts when I get back.”
“A friend? You made a friend! You are doing my list! I want a picture!” Her expression turned serious. “Wait a second. Is this a business friend or a friend friend?”
“Since you forbade me from doing business, what do you think?” he said, feeling mildly guilty for putting in the offer on the Bistro when he’d promised not to conduct business. But as he watched Abby’s hips sway as she approached the patio, that guilt went out the window.
“Yay!” Remi cheered. “Male or female?”
“Goodbye, Remi. I love you.” He ended the call and slid the phone into his pocket. “Good morning, Abby. No run today?”
“Hi.” A mischievous smile curved her lips, and she said, “I’m not really a runner. I only do it when I’m stressed out. I was wondering if you’d actually show up.”
“I was wondering the same thing about you. I’m glad you came.” He put a hand on her lower back as they walked along the side patio. The breeze picked up the summery scent of her perfume: coconut and sunshine.
When they stepped around the corner to the front, her jaw dropped, delight gleaming in her gorgeous green eyes. “Who are you?”
“Just a guy on vacation having breakfast with a beautiful woman.” He pulled out a chair for her, making a mental note to try harder to be a regular guy. He’d spent so many years being guarded and professional, he wasn’t even sure he knew how to be a regular guy anymore. But there was something unexpectedly exhilarating about not being known for his wealth or Remi’s celebrity and Abby riding up on her bike, delightfully surprised by nothing more than coffee and a croissant. Maybe his sister was onto something.
She studied him as they sat down, giving him a moment to do the same. She had the prettiest golden-brown hair hanging in thick waves to the middle of her back, a little wild and messy, parted in the center, with one slim braid peeking out from either side, and the type of smile that said You’re new and this could be fun! That smile reeled him right in, making him want to know more about what she found fun. A spray of adorable freckles dotted the ridge of her left cheek, as if they were marking her as special, begging to be touched, or maybe kissed.
“This is incredible, Aiden. But where did you get all this?”
“Here and there. I have a better question. Where did you get that sweatshirt? I need to get one just like it to appease my younger sister.”
“That was a smooth subject change,” she said teasingly. “Does your sister like to chill?”
He put his napkin in his lap and said, “She thinks she does, but the truth is, she’s too busy to chill. She and her husband run a program that provides duffel bags and quarterly birthday parties for foster kids, and they’re working on adopting their two foster daughters.” He smiled, thinking of the two girls who had instantly stolen his heart. “Patrice is five and cute as a button. She’s an inquisitive little thing, and calls me Uncle Aiden, which is pretty great. Olive is fifteen going on twenty-five. She’s an amazing kid, but she wears her heart on her sleeve, which worries me. I wish I could put their hearts in Bubble Wrap, you know? Or maybe a lead box, until they’re old enough to get past all the heartbreaks girls go through. They are the lights of Remi’s life.” As Remi’s name left his lips, a heavy dose of shock settled in, giving him pause. He’d spent years protecting Remi’s identity and he’d never talked about her personal life with someone he’d only just met. He gazed across the table at the woman who had somehow slipped past his guard without even trying and wondered what other powers she possessed.
“It sounds to me like they light up your life, too,” she said sweetly.
“Yes, without a doubt. I love those girls as much as I love my sister.”
Her gaze moved over their table, and she said, “Why do I have a feeling you spoil them rotten?”
“Who, me? Nah.” He took a drink of coffee and noticed her eyeing his blueberry Danish. He’d brought her a raspberry-and-Bavarian-cream croissant, as promised. “Do you like blueberry?”
“Was I that obvious?” Her cheeks pinked up. “I was wondering if you were a sharer. As much as I love Keira’s croissants, I’d do anything for one of her blueberry Danishes.”
“Really?” He arched a brow, making a mental note to stock up on blueberry Danishes. “I like a woman who goes after what she wants.”
A cute little laugh tumbled out, and she said, “I didn’t mean that.”
As he cut the Danish in half, she cut the croissant in half, sneaking glances at him, and said, “My sister and I used to do this all the time.”
She picked up half of the croissant to give to him at the same time he lifted his plate, allowing her to take her half of the Danish.
Her infectious smile grew even larger as she said “Sorry” and put the croissant back on her plate. She lifted her plate as he had.