On the Rocks (Last Call #1)(6)
Why am I going to Hunter Markham with something so important? Well, let’s just call it lack of options at this point. I’ve been repetitively outbid and overlooked by every major project that I’ve submitted to in the past three years. I’m hoping the fact that I’m best friends with Hunter’s sister, and that our families have been close for years, will give me a leg up.
I have no clue though, what to expect. I haven’t really spoken that much to Hunter since our “encounter” five years ago. He left for Australia just three days after that disastrous kiss and essentially trotted the globe for the next five years, competing on the ASP World Tour.
At twenty-eight, it was a bit of a surprise that Hunter decided to retire from the sport. He was surfing the best of his life and just last year had become the number two-ranked surfer in the world. He was swimming in cash, swimming in women, and swimming in fame. I never asked, but Casey always kept me updated, even though mention of him caused a tiny pang of hurt to lance through me each time.
Without any warning or reason, he retired from the surfing world and returned home to open up a beach bar. He purchased Salty’s, a popular oceanfront bar in Nags Head that had started to get rundown and neglected, mainly because poor Salty had a coke habit that sucked up all his money and time. Hunter came in, did a quick refurbish, and had a grand re-opening last month. He renamed it Last Call, and it looked like it was going to be quite a success. He also had big plans to expand onto the existing structure.
Of course, it didn’t escape my notice that his return home coincided with Brody’s return home, but it was just my guess that he wanted to be there to help his twin acclimate to the world. And yes, that made my heart pitter-patter a tiny bit, but then I hardened it up again. Hunter Markham didn’t deserve to have my heart doing anything other than sneering at him in the future.
So, even though it made me nervous to do so, I pulled out the binder that I would be handing over to Hunter in about three hours, and opened it up to show Casey and Alyssa. I spent the next thirty minutes going over my pitch with them and explaining the budget on the bid. I also showed them the architect’s plans that Hunter had given me, including a few potential design changes that I wanted to suggest that would help keep the bid low but would functionally be better suited for what he had planned.
When I was finished, Casey whistled between her teeth. “Damn girl… I have to tell you… that’s just hot the way you talk all those numbers and construction terms. I’d do you in a heartbeat.”
Chuckling, I punch her lightly on the arm. “Thanks, Case. Leave it up to you to turn my bid into something sexual.”
Laughing in that husky, sexy way of hers, she says, “Hey… if ‘sexual’ will help you land the bid, I’m all for it.”
“Eww,” I groan. “This is your brother we’re talking about. This is professional, not sexual.”
Casey gives me a small flick of her finger on my nose. “Lighten up, Gabs. It’s just Hunter. It’s not like he’s going to jump your bones or anything.”
Even after five years, the mere fact that she called me Gabs causes my stomach to tighten at the memory of Hunter calling me that. I’m surprised that Casey does so now, because that name was only used by Hunter. He had been calling me that since I was a kid.
Shaking my head, I turn to Alyssa. “Let me get a serious opinion. What do you think?”
Alyssa gives me a confident smile. “It’s wonderful, Gabby. Truly. I think Hunter is going to be very impressed.”
“Really?” I ask, hopeful that I truly have a shot at this. “You’re not just saying that?”
“Really,” she assures me.
“Absolutely,” Casey chimes in. “Hunter will be blown away. Plus, he’s always had a soft spot for you. He’ll give you preference just because of that.”
I can’t stop myself from practically sneering. “He most certainly doesn’t have a soft spot for me.”
Casey raises her eyebrows. “He does, although I’m not sure why. It’s like the minute you turned eighteen, all of your friendly joking around with him took a nosedive, and y’all are just at each other’s throats whenever you’re around each other.”
That much is true. While Hunter traveled much of the year, he was always home for a few months during his off-season between December and March. I always tried to stay out of his way, but seeing as how Casey and I are best friends, it was inevitable I would run into him on occasion. During those times, I will admit… he tried to be nice. But I was always snapping at him, or saying something condescending. He would be surprised at first, but then he’d give back as good as I gave him. Before you knew it, we were always fighting like cats and dogs. Over the years, it sort of became natural, and while we did our best to avoid each other, when we couldn’t help having contact, it was never very pleasant for any involved.
The only interaction that didn’t involve spiteful words was when my dad died. Hunter surprised me by coming home for the funeral, even though he was heavy into the tour. My catty comments sort of stuck deep in my throat when he came up to me at the funeral and pulled me into a hug. He rested his chin on top of my head and quietly said, “I’m so sorry, Gabs. I loved your father, too.”
I couldn’t help the tears that formed in my eyes over his kind words, and I wanted to hate him in that moment, but I just couldn’t. Instead, I pulled away without saying anything, walked over to my mom, and never left her side after that. Hunter never approached me again, and then he left the next day. After that, we were back to fighting like normal.