Pony Up Page 9

  “Damn straight, Kemosabe,” he says. “Now let’s get to work on a spice rub.”

  Three hours later, I’m sauced, both figuratively and literally. Cody and I are both drunk, but we’ve come up with two variations of sauce and one rub. Each one better than the last. We’re on to something here. I can feel it bone deep.

  “This is going to be so great,” I say, flopping down on my couch. “I can’t believe it, but I think we’ve got an incredible product line on our hands.”

  I close my eyes and picture the future. Me, surrounded by dozens of screaming fans, all dying to get their hands on my latest venture into the sauce world. Nixon and Reagan in the background, looking almost tiny compared to the huge crowd of people all chanting my name.

  Carter. Carter. Carter.

  “Heck yeah,” Cody slurs. “Too bad my sister’s bein’ such a drag about it all.”

  It takes some effort, but I roll onto my belly and open my eyes, squinting at Cody. It looks like there’s three of him swaying in the air. I imagine the late, great Glen Campbell bursting into song.

  I’m just a barbecue sauce cowboy, ridin’ out on the strip in a neon-spangled rodeo…

  “Yeah, she’s bein’ a real stick in the mud,” Cody continues, shaking his head. “Gosh darn women sometimes, I swear. They’re more trouble’n they’re worth.”

  You ain’t kidding, kid. My mind drifts to my own personal, passionate kisser turned Carter Caldwell hater.

  “What?” I rub my eyes. “What are you talking about?”

  “Oh, you know – my sister – she’s madder than a coonhound fulla ticks that I got my hand on Nana’s recipe,” Cody says, shaking his head like he’s forlorn. “Like she’d do anything decent with it. All she done care about is fish!”

  “Fish?” I ask, feeling stupid. “Cody, what’s going on? What the hell does your sister have to do with any of this?”

  Cody groans. “My sister – Rae…” He clears his throat. “Pepper St. Claire. She cooks at that dumb fish restaurant, what’s it called? Some kinda Saki Chinese name? I don’t know, heck, it’s the one inside the other casino. You know her. She’s a real perty but bratty little slip of a thing, with freckles all over her face.”

  Suddenly, the image of hot-as-hell-hater flashes in front of my eyes. I manhandled Pepper St. Claire.

  “Oh my god,” I groan, burying my face in my hands. Anything but this. Her hate could morph into physical violence on the turn of a roping horse’s haunches. “You’re kidding me.”

  Cody whistles. “I darn well wish I was, but she’s a real brat about this whole thing. Just warnin’ yer. She might show up at the unveilin’ and cause a real stank.”

  “No, no,” I say, sitting up. I move too quickly, and for a moment, my stomach and the world around me spins like a swirling tornado of liquor and swill. “That can’t be possible. She’s your sister?”

  “Heck yeah,” Cody says. He bursts out laughing and sways on his boot-clad feet. “And you wanna know somethin’ real funny? She changed her name! Her real name ain’t Pepper – it’s Raelynn Maebelle Higginbottom.”

  “Oh my god,” I say again, unable to come up with anything more complex. In my heart, I know that information’s classified. I’ll have to hold it close to the vest. In spite of her raging hatred for me, I don’t hold any ill-will toward her. “Your sister is the chef at Sakana.”

  “Yeah, that’s it! Sakiana!”

  “Oh my god.” The room spins violently around me. I might puke.

  “Can you quit sayin’ that so loud?” Cody asks, wincing. “What’s the big deal?”

  “I had no idea the two of you were related,” I say, taking a deep breath. “But this makes a lot more sense now. It might throw a wrench in our plans. Your sister hates my fucking guts.”

  “She was madder than a June bug when I told her I was goin’ into business with ya,” Cody continues. “She kept sayin’ how yer were gonna screw me over with some legal mumbo jumbo.”

  “I wouldn’t do that,” I say, although I’m barely even listening to Cody.

  Image after image of Pepper fills my head, and I feel like melting into the plush carpet of my living room floor. I can’t believe it. She is the girl I felt immediately attracted to? She is the girl I crushed to my body and kissed like my life depended on it? She’s the girl who’s haunted my every waking moment since?

  Fuck me.

  “And she kept sayin’ how yer were just a big asshole,” Cody adds, laughing and shaking his head like it’s the funniest thing in the world. “She wouldn’t relax, not even when I told her I was gonna get me my own lawman.”

  I narrow my eyes. “I’m confused,” I say, head reeling. “When I met Pepper, we seemed to get along really well. She didn’t know who I was, obviously, but she…” I bite my lip, not wanting Cody to know that I sucked his sister’s face at the benefit.

  “Well, I ain’t got no idea,” Cody replies. “She kept sayin’ how she heard y’all trashin’ her restaurant – yer know, the one where that benefit thingy was? Sayin’ how you hate fish and she can’t even cook to save her soul.”

  “Oh my god.” A horrifying flashback pops to mind. I’m standing next to Reagan, and I’m being so petulant I could qualify as a daycare toddler complete with applesauce on my face. Shit. “I can’t believe she heard me. Did she hear everything?”

  “Well, yer darn right, in my haystack,” he says. “Fish be tastin’ like shit.”

  I groan and close my eyes. He’s hardly helping alleviate my rising panic. “This can’t be happening.” I can’t believe it, but I’ve unwillingly started a war with the only other chef in Vegas to receive Michelin stars. Now, this situation doesn’t look random at all. It appears to be deliberate.

  “I think it’s darn funny,” Cody says, still snickering. “Besides, I’ll invite her to the sauce thingy and maybe she’ll start to circle the old campfire.” He wrinkles his nose. “She can be a real brat, but she ain’t so bad some of the time. Just a ‘lil high-falutin’, that’s all.”

  I don’t reply. I’m too worried about what’s going to happen the next time I see Pepper. I can only hope her bark is worse than her bite.

  “All her life, she done thought she was too good for Kansas,” Cody says. “Couldn’t wait to turn eighteen and move out all on her own.” He laughs and shakes his head. “And if it wasn’t for Nana, she’d never have been able to move out here. So, she really shouldn’t be mad at me at all. Nana gave Pepper her inheritance on the front end, and I got mine on the back end. Fair’s fair.”

  Cody’s words go in one ear and out the other. I’m barely listening as I lie on the couch, feeling like the world’s biggest dick.

  What the hell am I supposed to do now?

  Chapter Eleven

  Pepper

  The living room of my condo envelops me in its cozy warmth. I’m talking to Basil when my phone buzzes and Cody’s name flashes across the front.

  I groan and wrinkle my nose. “It’s my brother. I really don’t feel like dealing with him right now.”

  “But he’s so cute,” Basil says. “Here, give me the phone. I wanna talk to Mr. Bowlegged Cowboy.”

  “No way,” I say, laughing. “Besides, unfortunately, Basil, I know for a fact that he’s straight as an arrow. Straighter.”

  “Oh, poo,” Basil simpers, shaking his head. “All the cute ones are.”

  I swipe to open the call and hold my phone to my ear. “Hello?”

  “Howdy, sis, I didn’t think yer’d answer. Got somethin’ to ask you.”

  “It better not be a favor,” I mutter under my breath. “What is it?”

  “Carter – you know, my big fancy business partner – and I are gonna be launchin’ that barbecue sauce we came up with,” Cody drawls. “And it would mean a lot to me if yer were there.”

  My heart sinks. I can’t believe Cody actually went through with this terrible, harebrained idea. And now, he wants me to bear witness to his downfall.

  “Yer know
we ain’t got any other family nearby,” Cody continues. “And I’d really like to see you, sis.”

  “I bet,” I say through clenched teeth. “When is it?”

  “Tonight. At Steakhouse.”

  “Of course, it’s at Steakhouse.” I take a deep breath. “What time?”

  “Seven-thirty. I’ll put your name on the VIP list. And don’t worry, Raelynn…you don’t have to eat no meat.”

  Looking at Basil, I bite my lip. “Give me a plus one. I’m not coming alone.”

  “Ooh, you got yourself a boyfriend?”

  Glancing at Basil, I have to bite my lip to keep from laughing.

  “Not exactly. Just a friend. Please, Cody? It’s the only way I’ll feel comfortable showing up.”

  “Oh, fine,” Cody says. “It means a lot, Rae. Thank you.”

  Against my will, I smile. “You’re welcome.” Surprisingly, I mean every word. Obviously, this train’s already left the station, and all that’s left is to jump on board.

  We say our goodbyes, and I hang up, sliding my phone into my pocket.

  “What was that about?” Basil asks, raising an eyebrow.

  I’ve already told Basil about my brother’s disastrous decision to go into business with Carter Caldwell. When I tell him about the opening, I’m dismayed to see him so excited.

  “Oh, this should be fun,” Basil gushes. “I’d love to come with. I’m so glad you fought for me. VIP all the way, girlfriend.”

  “I didn’t invite you yet,” I say, stabbing a finger in his direction. “How do you know you’re the date in question?”

  “Yeah, but you asked for a super-duper plus one.” Basil flips pretend hair. “Awash in fabulosity. And I have a feeling you didn’t have anyone else in mind.”

  “All right,” I say, shaking my head. “But if things get bad, we’re leaving. Immediately. You got it?”

  “Aye aye.” He flicks his wrist, giving me his typical rigid salute.

  I spend the rest of the day in the kitchen at Sakana, instructing Kristin and the others how to manage the evening’s dinner service while Basil and I attend the launch party. I’m sure the unveiling won’t take long – how long can people possibly stand around eating disgusting barbecue? – but I’m already nervous that some grand mal disaster will color my night off.

  “This is good for you,” Basil says as we leave the kitchen. “I haven’t seen you take so much time off since we opened. Cody’s good for you.”

  “And it’s going to be so fun too,” I say, sarcasm front and center.

  After quickly changing into a pair of black slacks and my favorite teal silk shirt, I feel like I look okay. I don’t want to make too much of an effort – Carter’s cocky enough that I’m sure he’d think it was all for his benefit – but I don’t want to look like a slob, either. Or someone from Kansas.

  By the time Basil and I get to Steakhouse, it buzzes with activity. I give our names to a girl at the door who shows us in, then we push through a throng of people to get to the front of the room. Servers pass by with trays of drinks, and I grab two martinis.

  Basil reaches for one, but I hold both tightly in my hands.

  “No way,” I say, shaking my head. “This is a two-fisted situation if I’ve ever seen one. Get your own.”

  Basil rolls his eyes but goes off in search of a bartender. I knock one of the martinis back in one gulp, set the glass down, then start sipping the other. The gin and vermouth start to calm my nerves, but anxiety slithers its way up my spine anyway. What if Cody does something horrible, like call me out in public? What if he slips and says my name? My real name?

  The lights dim, and I step back into the crowd as a spotlight shines down on one corner of the restaurant. That’s when I see my brother and Carter – dressed in matching yoked Western shirts and cowboy hats – step into the light and grin. His chiseled face chases the breath from my lungs, and I suck an inhale.

  Not tonight, asshole. You will not affect me.

  “I want to thank all of you for coming,” Carter says. At the sound of his sexy voice, my heart jerks to the side. Even though I hate him with everything in me, I can’t get over the feelings that course through me whenever he’s in the vicinity. And that deep, warm growl…it’s enough to wet my panties.

  Stop it. That’s the last thing you need right now – a crush on your sworn enemy.

  The crowd cheers and claps as Carter talks about the barbecue sauce. I tune out his words and focus on the sexy growl of his voice, staring at his perfect lips as they form the words.

  Maybe that martini was a bad idea. Maybe I should find Basil and get out of here before Carter or Cody can see me.

  Carter finishes his little speech, and the lights snap back on. The servers reappear, this time carrying trays of sample-sized ribs and steak, and everyone eagerly takes a plate or two…except for me.

  Just as I’m thinking of how to find Basil and disappear, Carter comes up to me with a smile lining his handsome face.

  “I noticed you haven’t tried any,” Carter says, reaching for a plate of rib tips and handing it over.

  I shake my head. “No, thanks.” Just the smell alone is enough to turn my stomach. I haven’t eaten meat since I moved out of my parent’s house.

  “I think I owe you an apology,” Carter says. He rocks on the balls of his feet, and I realize that he’s nervous.

  I raise an eyebrow, not wanting to give this blue-eyed devil an inch. “Oh?”

  Carter nods. “Yeah. It was really bad form when I trash talked Sakana. You agreed to host the benefit for my brother, and really, I should have been thanking you instead. It’s just that…that…I’m a meat-eating guy. I don’t know how to be anything else.”

  I blink. His words are both sincere and touching.

  “Thank you,” I say, softening just a hair.

  “Yeah,” Carter says. He sticks out a hand. “Truce?”

  I hesitate for a moment before putting my fingers against his, because I already know what’s waiting for me at the end of his tapered fingertips. Lust. A pure and passionate desire that I can’t explain. His hand is large and dry and warm, and touching his skin sends a shiver down my spine as I remember what it felt like to be wrapped in Carter’s arms with my mouth pressed to his.

  “Truce,” I whisper, unable to trust myself to say anything more.

  “So, what do you think?” Carter asks, gesturing at the room full of people. “It really seems to be a hit.”

  I glance around at the huge crowd all munching on their ribs while smiling and laughing. “It does.” Dammit, Pepper, say something nice. You can do it. “It, uh, reminds me of home. The smell, I mean.”

  Carter chuckles. “I take it that’s a good thing?”

  “Sure,” I lie. “I’m glad it’s doing well. I know my brother was very excited to work with you. I haven’t seen Cody this whipped up over anything since his first rodeo.”

  “Yeah, Cody’s a hoot,” Carter says, shaking his head. “I swear, I learn about fifty new expressions every time I talk to him. I was born and raised here, so I’m not up on the latest cowboy slang.”

  This time when I laugh, it’s genuine. “Yeah. Cody’s always been like that. Really colorful, you know? Everybody loves him.”

  “He’s a breath of fresh air around here, that’s for sure,” Carter replies.

  The tension between us grows, crackling along an invisible line that connects us to each other. I can’t tell if Carter’s being so nice because he realized how dickish he acted before, or because he’s still attracted to me…but something inside of me doesn’t want to go off into the crowd and find Basil.

  Please ask me to stay.

  Another server passes by with a tray full of martinis and Carter plucks two before handing one to me. We clink our glasses together and sip, silently toasting to the success of this new venture.

  “This is good,” I say.

  Carter nods. “It’s Steakhouse’s signature drink. It’s a regular martini, with a little t
wist.”

  Frowning, I take another sip of my drink, swishing it around in my mouth.

  “Get it yet?” Carter raises an eyebrow. Somehow, this makes him look even sexier. “You must have a very sophisticated palate.”

  “It’s…rosemary,” I say, swallowing. “That’s really good. It’s subtle, I didn’t notice it before.”

  Carter grins, his chest puffing out with pride. If this is his reaction to the slightest compliment from my lips, maybe I need to throw him a bone more often.

  “Yeah,” he says. “I like it a lot.”

  I lick my lips as we lapse into silence. Carter stares into my eyes, and for a moment, I forget that I’m schmoozing with the asshole who trashed my restaurant. Deep in his soul, he disrespects what I do. He probably disrespects me as a person.

  “So…” Carter steps closer. A thrill flutters through my body. “Wanna take a walk? Get some air. It’s so crowded in here, the temperature’s rising.”

  You’re not kidding. But it has nothing to do with the crowd.

  Maybe it’s the electrical current between us, but I trail along after him like his favorite cut of red meat straight to the slaughter. He takes my hand and squeezes my fingers before leading me out of the room and onto a private balcony. A cool breeze ruffles his hair, and I have to fist my hand to keep from reaching up and pushing it out of those azure eyes.

  “I don’t let patrons out here most of the time,” Carter says. “It’s where I come when I need a moment.”

  The view steals my breath. The sun dips below the desert hills and the neon of the strip twinkles in the fading daylight.

  “It’s beautiful,” is all I can manage to say.

  Carter still hasn’t released my hand, and the pad of his thumb rubs the inside of my wrist, sending tingles up my arm. “Yeah. If I’m having a bad day, coming out here always relaxes me.”

  I gnaw on my bottom lip, an old habit I wish I could break. All it manages to do is draw his attention. Every single place the man touches me with that wicked gaze, I throb. I ache. “I can’t imagine that you have too many bad days.”

  “Clearly, you’ve never met my pastry chef, Claude,” he replies, rolling his eyes. “I swear, that man is more emotional than a room full of thirteen-year-old girls. He could try the patience of Job. But he’s the best. And I like having the best.”