Holiday Hire (The Cartwright Family #2)

Chapter 26

26

Phoebe

A lexander's face reddens with anger. He hangs up the phone, then points at me, ordering, "Call him."

"I'm not calling him," I repeat.

His eyelids lower into slits, and he accuses, "I told Cheyenne it was over. It seems like you haven't told Lance anything."

I put my hand on my hip, insisting, "That's not true. I told you I broke up with him."

He tosses his arms wide to the sides. "Then why is he still calling you? You don't see Cheyenne blowing up my phone, do you?"

"No, she just tells you to your face. In front of me, I'll add. Real classy woman you picked to hook up with!"

"That's rich coming from the woman who dated Mr. Douchebag for four years! And that was a week ago we ran into her. I also made it perfectly clear I wanted only you! Not once did I backtrack in front of her about my intentions," he shouts.

"I've told Lance several times I don't want to be with him anymore and to stop contacting me!"

He points at my phone again. "Call him." He gives me a challenging stare.

I meet it, not flinching, but then I finally cave. I say, "You're being ridiculous," and pick up the phone.

"Humor me," he mutters.

"Fine!" I pick up my phone and turn it on. Then I swipe the screen, and hit the call button. I put it to my ear, and it rings. My stomach flips.

Loud noises fill the background. Lance slurs, "Phoebe, why haven't you been answering my calls?"

Rage fills me. It wasn't a big deal for Lance to ignore my calls when we were dating, but now that we aren't together, he thinks I owe him expediency. I spout, "Lance, you need to stop calling me. Don't contact me again. I've told you it's over."

The music gets louder, and I'm about to hang up, then I freeze. Goose bumps erupt on my skin.

Since when does Lance listen to country music?

He barks, "Phoebe, this game you're playing is over. You're coming back with me."

Panic hits me.

What does he mean by coming back? As in, he's in Texas?

The last thing I want is Lance on the ranch. I don't want him anywhere near me; Alexander will go nuts if he comes close.

Please, please, please don't be in town, I repeat over and over in my head.

Alexander's eyes narrow further.

I lift my chin, repeating, "Lance, it's over between us. You need to let this go. Don't call me again."

"Phoebe, I'm not joking. You're returning to California with me, and we're getting married. This nanny business is over," he states.

I close my eyes. "Lance, you're not listening to me." I exhale deeply, then open my eyes and see that Alexander's expression is even more pissed off. My insides shake harder. I assert, "Lance, it's over. Don't call me again." I hang up.

Alexander stares at me.

I ask, "Are you happy now?"

He doesn't say anything. He just continues staring at me.

I swipe on my phone and pull up Lance's contact info. I hit the block button, then turn the phone to show Alexander. "I've blocked him. And it's not my fault if he kept trying to contact me. I've told him before, and you just heard me tell him again," I babble, as if I've done something wrong and need to convince him.

I do. He doesn't believe me.

I don't understand how Alexander can think I want to keep things going with Lance. And why is he so upset he called me? It's not like I gave him any attention.

Lance is in Texas, I remind myself, panicking again.

He needs to go back to California.

Lights flash in the window, and I turn my head. The SUV parks near the house.

Alexander moves into his room.

I follow him, asking, "What are you doing?"

He quickly puts on his jeans and his boots. He tosses the T-shirt over his head, tugging it down, and goes toward the front door.

"Where are you going?" I ask.

He grabs his cowboy hat off the hook, puts it on his head, and slides into his jacket. "I'm going to take care of what I should have a long time ago."

The hairs on my arms rise. "What does that mean?"

"I'll see you later, Phoebe. Please take care of the kids while I'm gone." He opens the door and steps out onto the porch.

"Alexander!" I call out, then grab my coat off the hook and step in to my slippers, following him outside.

It's a bad mistake. It's muddy, and my slippers sink into the muck. I try to raise my foot out of the mud, shouting, "Alexander!"

He charges toward his car, ignoring me.

Ace shouts, "Dad! We had the best day!"

Alexander pauses as Ace hurls himself against him. They hug and he tousles his hair, stating, "Boys, I have to run into town for business. Stay with Phoebe and your aunts, okay?"

"You're not going to hang out with us? You said you weren't going to work this week," Wilder whines.

"I'll be quick, don't worry," he says, adding, "I've got to pick up Mason and Jagger. They drank too much and need a ride home."

"I thought you said it was for work," Ace points out.

Alexander replies, "Your uncles are work. I'll be back soon, okay?"

"Okay," Wilder says to him, then yells to Ace, "Race you," before he turns and runs toward the main house.

Ace follows him, quick on his heels.

"Alexander!" I call out again, but he ignores me and gets in his truck.

He starts the engine and peels out.

I watch him zoom past the gate, then freeze.

Willow and Paisley stare at me. Willow's eyes narrow, and she orders, "Paisley, go with the boys and start the crafts. Phoebe and I will join you in a minute."

Paisley doesn't argue. She tears her questioning gaze off me and heads toward the main house.

Willow grabs my forearm, pulling me toward Alexander's house.

I leave my slippers on the porch. We step inside, and as soon as the door shuts, I fret, "Am I in trouble?" I try to turn it into a joke, but it doesn't come out like one.

She tilts her head, asking, "I don't know, are you?"

I blink hard and look away. I hate lying to Willow. I detest that Alexander's mad at me. I don't know where he's going, and I can't stand Lance interfering in my life when he shouldn't be.

Willow's face falls. She pulls me into a hug. "Hey, everything's going to be fine. I don't know what's happening, but trust me, everything will be fine."

I mutter, "I don't know if it will."

She pulls back and adds, "I think it's time you tell me what's going on in this house."

My lips quiver. "I don't know what you're talking about."

She smirks, puts her hand on her hip, and tilts her head. "Do you think I was born yesterday?"

I don't say anything, shaking harder.

"Come on." She pulls me into the kitchen, then slides the chair away from the table, ordering, "Sit."

I don't move.

"Phoebe, sit down."

Not knowing what else to do, I sit.

She opens the fridge, grabs two bottles of beer, then pops the caps. She sets one in front of me and then sits beside me. She takes a long sip and then nods her head toward my bottle. "Go on, have a drink."

At a loss, I follow her lead.

We sit there, drinking beer until half of our bottles are gone, and she sets hers down. She smiles, asking, "Are you ready to tell me what's going on?"

"With what?" I question, trying to play dumb but doing a horrible job.

She tilts her head again, giving me a knowing look. "Phoebe, I know my brothers well. Something's going on between you and Alexander, so tell me what it is. Spill it, let's go."

"I don't know what you're talking about," I fib, but she can tell I'm lying.

She drinks another sip of beer, tapping her fingers on the table. She asks, "How many beers will it take before you tell me?"

I put my bottle down and stare out the window.

She grabs my hand. "Phoebe, it's okay, just tell me what's going on. I know you and Alexander are romantically involved."

My mouth turns dry. I swallow the lump in my throat, my heart pounding harder. I turn to her, and my eyes well with tears.

She scoots closer and puts her hand on my back. "Babe, everything's okay. Just tell me what's happening."

I can't help myself. I hate secrets. I loathe lies, and lying is all I've been doing. Willow's my friend, and I'm ashamed I've been covering things up. So it all comes pouring out.

"Alexander and I have... Well, I mean... We can't say anything because of the boys."

She arches her eyebrows. "What about the boys?"

"He doesn't want to hurt them."

She nods. "Okay. And why would the boys be hurt?"

I blurt out, "Because I'll be leaving soon."

Her expression hardens. "Phoebe, do you really think you're leaving?"

"Yeah. Your parents will be done with their mission trip. I-I don't know." Tears fall faster at the thought of leaving the ranch and the Cartwrights, but especially the boys and Alexander.

Willow rubs my back. "Babe, I can tell you one thing. I know my family. There's no way you're going anywhere unless you escape us." She wiggles her eyebrows.

I laugh through my tears, but it's short-lived. I admit, "Alexander would have to want me to stay."

She insists, "He does."

"How can you say that? You didn't even know what was going on between us."

She smirks. "You two were under the staircase, and both of your shirts were untucked. Your hair was a mess, and there was lipstick on Alexander's cheek. Do you think I don't know what all that means?"

More goose bumps pop out on my skin. I gape at her, and embarrassment floods me.

She takes another sip of beer and then gets up and grabs two more. She sits back down.

She leans closer. "It's okay, you can confide in me. I won't tell anybody else."

"So you knew but you didn't tell anyone?"

She scoffs. "No. Do you think I'm like Jagger and Mason? You obviously didn't want anyone to know, and Alexander went in the bathroom and cleaned off the lipstick before he got in front of others, so"—she takes a sip of beer—"your secret's still safe."

"Mason and Jagger know," I blurt out, my pulse skyrocketing.

She arches her eyebrows. "Those two know, and they kept it a secret? How did that happen?"

"I don't know. They saw Alexander kiss me the night we went to the racetrack. He made them promise not to say anything," I confide.

She snorts. "I'm shocked they kept a secret. They always spill the beans somehow."

"But they didn't?" I fret, once more worried about others knowing. Alexander is going to kill me when he finds out Willow knows.

She shakes her head. "No, not that I'm aware of. Nobody has said anything to me. I just knew because I saw you two. Plus, I see the way my brother looks at you. He's in love with you."

"He's not," I insist.

She scoffs again. "Like hell he's not. I've never seen him so happy."

"You haven't?"

"No. Plus, he's daydreaming half the day."

"What are you talking about? He never daydreams."

"Sure he is. I see him glancing across the corral instead of yelling at Mason and Jagger. Trust me, he's in love with you," she declares, as if it's a sure thing.

My heart swoons, but then I remember our situation. I shake my head, asserting, "No. He thinks things are still going on between Lance and me. And it's not my fault. I told Lance it was over, but he keeps calling, and your brother just got mad at me about it. Oh, and I'm pretty sure Lance is in town, and I'm scared he might come here. Alexander will go nuts if he does!"

She tenses. "Where was my brother going?"

I shake my head. "I don't know, he wouldn't tell me. He got a phone call. I don't know who it was, but I think it was one of your brothers because I heard, 'Bro.' But that's all I heard."

She reaches for her purse. "Well, let's find out."

"He won't tell you if you call him. And if he knows you know about us, he'll be mad at me."

She waves her hand. "Oh, shush. I'm not saying a word to him, nor am I calling him."

She gives me a mischievous grin that reminds me of Alexander's.

"Then how will you find out where he's at?"

Her lips twitch. "Since I know your secret, you can know mine."

"Which is?"

"I put a tracker on all of my brothers' phones."

I jerk my head back. "Why would you do that?"

She laughs. "Ava and Paisley have it on theirs as well."

"Why?"

"Do you know what it's like being a girl in this family and trying to go on dates? Sure enough, my brothers will show up anywhere I am, and this town is small. The last thing I want to do is run into them when I'm on a hot date. If I do, it's because I want to run into them. So I have a tracker on their phones, and it alerts me if they move. So if I'm out and they're going somewhere else, I'll get a notification. I can usually figure out where they'll be, so I can either move my date to a different location or deal with them. It depends on my mood or how much alcohol I've drunk or how hot my date is." She winks.

I laugh. "You're crazy."

"No, I'm a Cartwright woman with four older brothers. Trust me, it's survival mode. Otherwise, I'll be single the rest of my life," she claims.

"No way. You're a hot catch," I tell her.

She smiles. "Thanks. But they still make my life miserable. Now, let's see…" She refocuses on her phone and taps the screen. She wiggles her eyebrows at me. "I know where he's going. And hold on..." She swipes her screen a few times, announcing, "Yep, Mason and Jagger are there too."

I question, "Where's Alexander going?"

"To Booth's."

"He's going to the bar?" The pit of my stomach drops, and a fresh sense of panic hits me.

"Yeah. Why do you look sick?" she asks.

I remember the country music in the background of Lance's phone call. "When Lance called me, it was really loud. I heard country music, and he never listens to that genre. He kept saying I was coming home with him. You don't think..." My insides quiver harder.

Amusement fills her expression. She declares, "We definitely cannot stay here right now."

"What do you mean?"

"Go get dressed."

"For what?" I question, glancing at my shorts.

"Put on jeans and a T-shirt. Let's go."

"Where are we going?"

"Booth's. Duh!"

"But we've been drinking. We can't drive."

"Paisley will drive."

"Who's going to watch the boys?"

"My mom, silly. Evelyn and Ava are at the main house too."

"But Alexander said?—"

"I don't care what Alexander said. Come on, we're not missing this. Let's go."

"But, Willow?—"

"Get dressed, Phoebe," she demands.

Sighing, I go get dressed, and Paisley's already in the driver's seat by the time we get to the SUV. She suspiciously glances at me, asking, "Why are we going to Booth's?"

"You'll see," Willow answers.

"Willow, I don't know if we should be doing this," I say, wanting to know what's going on in town but also scared about it.

What if Alexander thinks I showed up because of Lance?

Plus, he'll know Willow knows, and now Paisley will too.

"Stop worrying," Willow advises as Paisley takes off down the driveway.

I barely hear anything in the car the whole way there. My insides are a mess.

We pull up to Booth's, and Paisley finds a parking spot down the street. We walk toward the bar, and I pray Lance isn't there. I hope it's a stupid situation with Mason and Jagger that Alexander has to get them out of. But my gut knows it's nothing of the sort. And when I step inside, it's worse than I thought.

Lance is on top of the bar. He's holding up a photo of me, slurring loudly, "This is my woman. My fiancée. Texas, you can't have her."

"Get the fuck off my bar," the bartender shouts.

Alexander grabs Lance's pant leg. He pulls him off the bar and onto his feet.

Lance slurs, "You can't have her. You want her, but you can't have her."

Alexander curls his fist. "Don't!" I cry out, just wanting this entire situation to end.

He doesn't even pause. He slams his fist into Lance's face.

Blood spurts everywhere. Lance goes down and the crowd cheers.

Mason and Jagger clink mugs of ale in the seats next to the scene.

Jagger praises, "Nice one, bro."

Mason gets off his barstool and grabs the photo. He holds it up, asking Alexander, "Do you want me to do something with this?"

Alexander doesn't take his eyes off Lance.

His blood-covered face begins to swell. He spits, "She's mine."

"The hell she is. You better get the fuck out of town and never come back. And if you contact her again, I will kill you," Alexander threatens.

I grab the chair, shaking harder.

Willow puts her arm around my waist. She murmurs in my ear, "See? You're not going anywhere. You're one of us now."