Jordan POV
I didn't want to answer.
Surprised she was calling me? No. After talking to my dad yesterday, before dinner with Lorenzo, and finding out she'd been at the house, in my room… I knew. I knew this would happen sooner or later.
Why? Because she'd been looking for something. I'm sure of it. She didn't find it. She almost did, because I nearly made the mistake of leaving it there. I almost forgot. But no. What she was after was with me. And on top of that… she'd been hoping to find me too.
My sister, looking for me. A few years ago, just the thought would have made my heart race. It would have been reason enough to smile. Now? Now it just leaves a bitter taste in my mouth. Because I may be an idiot, but I'm not stupid.
"Mom asked if you want to come over for lunch." Melissa's voice came from the door, cutting into the storm in my head. I still had the phone in my hand, not answering.
"Yes," I said. I was going to need the positive energy of her family after this. "Just let me take this call first."
She nodded and went back to the kitchen, maybe sensing I needed to be alone for this one.
I hadn't said I'd call back. I didn't need to. She'd insist until I answered. I was supposed to feel flattered, wasn't I? I didn't.
The phone rang again. I took a deep breath, realizing I'd been holding it without noticing.
And I answered.
"Finally." Her voice came clear as crystal, laced with impatience. I pressed my lips together. "Where are you? Dad said you traveled. That you're working at some restaurant with someone important. Where the hell are you hiding?" she fired, inquisitive, as if I owed her answers.
"Good morning to you too, Vivianne," I replied, trying to sound calm, refusing to let her tone shake me.
"I told you not to call me—"
"What do you want?" I cut her off. I already knew what was coming, just as she knew I said her name on purpose. To annoy her. Isn't that what siblings are supposed to do? In that, at least, we were always good.
"Look, darling, I'm only trying to help you. To protect you from yourself. Because, let's face it, you do have a tendency to get lost… in the middle of chaos." Her voice slid into that sweet but falsely concerned tone. The same one I used to mistake for genuine years ago.
"I don't need your help." I paused, couldn't resist. "Vivianne." I'm pretty sure I heard her grind her teeth on the other end. And I smiled, satisfied.
"I'm fine. What do you really want?"
"Nothing." She sighed. "I just missed Dad… and you."
"Yeah. Sure." I said dryly. She ignored it, as always.
"I could come visit you. Where are you?" She pushed again. And if I told her, it'd be like shooting myself in the foot.
"If you miss me that much, I could visit you," I shot back. Best defense is always attack, right? "You're so busy… I definitely have more free time than you." I tossed her own words back at her, the ones she'd used on me countless times. "Just say when you can see me and I'll hop on a plane."
In reality, I was only two hours' drive from Ashford, the capital where she lived. But I'd rather she thought I was much farther away.
On the other end, silence. Vivianne would never allow me to show up on her turf.
"You don't have to come. Don't waste your money… I'll come to you. Don't worry about my schedule. I've got vacation days to spend." She was relentless.
"Oh! And you want to spend your vacation with me? I'm touched!" She could drag my sarcasm to new heights, but it wasn't always like this. I used to believe her. Too many times. Even after seeing her true colors, I fell for it again. She always managed to twist me around. But playing games like that was never me.
"If you're coming for my book, don't bother."
"Of course that's not the reason." She denied too quickly, though we both knew she was lying.
"Well, enjoy your vacation… Vivianne. No need to spend them with me!"
I didn't let her reply. I just hung up.
I thought I'd handled it well. It was always easier on the phone—harder for her to manipulate me, to make me give in. If it were up to me, she'd never find out where I was. Dad wouldn't tell her either. Not because I asked—he didn't even know what she'd done. But because I had to have inherited something from someone, right?
The forgetful streak came straight from him: you can repeat names of places and people a hundred times and he'll forget. But he'll never forget a recipe he's cooked, even if it was just once. He was a great cook who never got the chance to shine.
I like to think he passed me a little of that talent. And I came here looking for my chance to shine.
Vivianne already shone. Too much. But still… I shook my head, trying to clear her from my thoughts.
Since I was in the bedroom, I got dressed quickly before heading to the kitchen to join Melissa. Then we'd head to her parents' place.
Damn.
The vlog. What if she saw it?
If she saw… she'd know. She'd know where I was, who I was with, what restaurant I worked in, and who the Chef was. You'd think, being on another level, she wouldn't care what I did.
But she did.
And the worst part? She wouldn't like it. If she saw and showed up here, it definitely wouldn't be to help me. I sighed deeply, clutching the phone in my palm.
Please, don't let her see it.
"Jo?" Melissa's voice pulled me back. She was leaning against the doorframe, peeking in curiously. "Are you going to be much longer? My mom's probably setting the table already."
I glanced at the mirror. I'd already changed clothes, hair tied up in a messy bun. Not perfect, but it wasn't a beauty contest. I shook my head.
"I'm ready," I said, forcing a smile. I grabbed my jacket and phone, trying to push away the tightness in my chest.
Melissa smiled, satisfied. "Great. Let's go."
We were already in the car, on the way to her parents' house, when Melissa, as if remembering something trivial, dropped the bomb:
"Oh! By the way, you'll get to meet Mila and Cameron."
"Who are Mila and Cameron?" I asked absentmindedly, staring out the window.
"Mila's a sweetheart, she's ten. Cameron is her dad." She smiled at me brightly. "Cameron is Chef Adam's brother. So Mila is his niece."
I blinked. I had no idea Chef Adam had a brother. He was always so private about his personal life, so closed off. All I knew was what I'd read in the papers—pictures with beautiful women, playboy rumors. Nothing about family. Very different from the Chef Ogre I knew in the kitchen.
"Oh, and Adam will be there too."
I swore mentally. Yep, this was the bomb she decided to drop.
I glanced down at my outfit: plain jeans, light sweater. Casual. Too casual. But what was I supposed to wear, a ball gown? Relax, Jordan, you're fine.
I shook my head, frustrated, letting my hair down and fussing with it as if that would fix anything. My stomach twisted. I wasn't even sure why… but the idea of running into him like this, unprepared, unsettled me.