Never Let You Go: A Small Town Single Dad Romance, page 37
Okay.
“’Bout time,” Colton mumbles as we follow him to the parking lot.
We throw our bags in the truck bed, Colton flicks the truck doors open, and Justin folds himself in the back seat.
“Good call,” Colton says under his breath as he takes the driver’s seat.
After the show ended last night, we wanted to get back home, but couldn’t find Justin. There’d been a power outage, and word was that he might be stuck in an elevator, but he didn’t pick up his phone, and, anyway, power was eventually restored and still no sign of Justin. Colton and I crashed in a double, and in the morning, a very pissed off Justin showed up with no explanation, said he had business to tend to, and started a half-hour long argument with the front desk, the gist of which we had no clue and gave no fucks.
We just wanted to get home, and he was being a diva.
Colton finally breaks the silence. “That was brilliant, man, what you did. I didn’t know you could make so many dishes with pancakes.”
“Thanks,” I answer simply. I blew the judges’ minds with my sourdough pancake batter base, interpreted both sweet and savory to form the basis of a whole meal. Blinis and smoked Vermont trout with a side of whipped cream and freshly picked garlic scapes, cheddar soufflé pancakes, chocolate silver dollar size pancakes with a side of ginger ice cream, and the proposal pancake—a hibiscus pancake topped with pansies holding an engagement ring.
“If anybody would know that, it’d be you. Proud o’ya.”
I tilt my chin toward Justin. “What happened to him?”
“Hell if I know.”
After a while driving in silence, Colton says, “So, Alex, huh.”
Last thing I want to talk about.
“I had someone that sweet look at me the way she looks at you, I wouldn’t let her go that easy. Wouldn’t matter she didn’t fully disclose her circumstances.”
“Yeah?” I don’t want to argue with Colton.
He shrugs. “Not telling you what to do. Not in your shoes. Just saying, that’s what I’d do.”
I keep staring out the window. My cousin usually doesn’t speak much.
“She and Grace’re tight. See her at Ma’s sometimes.”
Right. He’s been around Alexandra more than I thought. He understands.
He’s not done with his pep talk. “You got a shit start in life, man. You deserve a woman like her.”
I chuckle. “Thanks, man, but she got better things to do than be stuck with me.”
He glances my way. “Stuck? A’right, man. Whatever.” He flicks the radio on to a country music station. After an hour I switch to rock, and that’s the extent of our disagreement.
And then we get to Emerald Creek.
The town is decorated to the nines, with balloons and twinkling lights and my name plastered on all the windows.
It’s embarrassing.
Embarrassing and great.
“Alex organized the celebration party for you. Tonight by the river,” Colton says.
I shuffle my feet. “How do you know Alexandra did this?”
He shrugs. “Kiara. You look like shit, dude,” he says as I step out the car. “Get some sleep.”
The bakery’s been closed for a few days, and it’s quiet inside the house. The exhaustion of the past few days catches up with me, and I haul my ass up to my bedroom.
I glance at the door to the hidden staircase, shove my feelings down where they can’t bother me, and get some sleep.
I wake up with a throbbing headache, take a long shower, a couple of aspirins, then drag myself to the river, guided by the sounds of the band.
This should be one of the best days of my life so far, yet I feel like shit. There’s nothing worth celebrating for me. I already know I’m the best baker in New England.
Cocky? So what.
But I’m doing this for Emerald Creek. This community always came through for me. The least I can do is give them this. I plaster a smile on my face and walk toward the sound of music drifting up from the riverbanks.
I navigate through the swarms of people who slap me on the shoulder, hug me, or take selfies with me. The band interrupts their gig for a second to announce my arrival and to remind people to use the bakery’s hashtag when posting photos of the event on their social media.
Is Alexandra still here? That’s something she would do. Uneasiness settles in my stomach. I don’t think I can bear to see her.
“There he is!” My mother’s voice startles me from my thoughts.
I narrow my eyes at the sight of the family assembled in a circle. I hug Mom first, then my half brothers, Ryan and Trevor. They’re as tall as me now, and what I saw of them in the videos is confirmed. They’re filling in. I feel out their muscles teasingly, and they reward me with huge grins.
Finally, I shake hands with my stepfather, Dean, who’s standing awkwardly to the side. “I suppose congratulations are in order,” he drops, a smirk on his face. He’s bouncing from one foot to the other, like a kid who’s been chastised. My mother must have lectured him on the way here. At least he’s making an effort.
“Thanks, yeah. And thanks for coming.”
“Oh—We had to come to pick up Skye, anyway. Your mother doesn’t like to drive long distances. Figured we’d kill two birds with one stone.”
Mom interrupts him before he puts his foot deeper in his mouth. “We thought it’d be a nice opportunity for the whole family to celebrate together. Dean, let’s go find Shannon and Dennis and let the boys catch up.”
“Dude, you rock,” Ryan says when they’re out of earshot.
“Yeah.” Trevor chuckles. “Look at this crowd, all for you.” His eyes glimmer with genuine pride and joy, and they both laugh and look admiringly at me.
Fuck, I’ve missed these little buggers.
The video calls we try to have each week now, mainly for Skye’s benefit, are no replacement for the real, physical presence. “You guys have anything lined up for the summer? I could use some help in the bakery.”
“Ohmygod that’s a great idea!” Grace exclaims. I turn around and see her and Alexandra swinging Skye between them. They crept up on me, and now I’m caught in Alexandra’s gaze boring through my core, and I want to be anywhere but here.
I focus on Skye running to me and dousing me in kisses. “I love you, Daddy. Now, Caroline can’t say you’re not the best baker in the whole wide world.”
I hug her tight and close my eyes. “You already knew that.”
Grace is greeting her cousins and saying, “If you guys are in, I’ll talk to your mom and dad about working here.”
Skye pinches my cheeks and pulls them apart. “Yes,” she says. “Now smile.”
I try to smile as I set her down. Alexandra is standing back, looking like she wants to leave, but Skye starts pulling on her yellow summer dress, introducing her to her uncles.
The dress shows her shoulders, hugs her breasts, and stops right above her knees. All I can think about is how soft her skin is.
How sweet she tastes.
How deeply moving her kisses are.
And how I’ll never have her again.
The twins’ eyes light up the sight of her, and Ryan pulls her into a hug that lasts several unnecessary beats. Little shithead.
“Alexandra is—was—our apprentice,” I say. “She’s leaving the day after tomorrow.”
fifty-two
Alexandra
Abottle of wine and a whole box of tissues into the night, Sarah asks again, “You’re really doing that?”
“Yes,” I sniffle. “Red Barn is already a half-lost battle anyway, and it’s not one I feel like fighting anymore. Not without him to support me. I—I didn’t—couldn’t find the words to explain myself to him. I need to show him.”
“No bad ass girl boss in your future?”
“This is my only way to show him I love him. I’m a bad ass girl boss with her priorities right.”
“M’kay.”
“There’s so much more to life than running a multi-million company that does no good at all. Look at Rita. I don’t want her life. No thank you.”
As if on cue, my phone rings.
Barbara.
“Hello,” I croak.
“Calling to wish you good luck, my love. We have champagne on ice here. Are you driving back right after the exam? There’s no rush. You should stay and spend some time with your celebrity lover. Maybe we’ll come up and celebrate with you. Jerry! You down for a trip to Emerald Creek? Why haven’t I thought about this earlier? We can all drive back down together like the big happy family we are, right on time for the general meeting. It’s not for another two weeks.”
“Barb. I’m not going.”
“Pardon? What did you say? I’m getting hard of hearing.”
Is she joking, or is she really getting hard of hearing? She’s pushing seventy. “I’m not going to take the exam.”
“What is that? I’m not following.”
“I’m giving up on Red Barn. I can’t do it. Won’t do it.”
“And why is that? We have it all figured out. Jerry has been pumping me up to be your mighty right hand. Like with Rita, but better.”
I take a deep breath, and the words spill out, as well as the tears. I tell her how I was exposed, and how that affected my relationship with Christopher. “Red Barn has caused me so much pain, Barb. So much. I can’t take it anymore. In a way, I’m relieved the choice is made for me. I feel like I have a real direction, now.”
“Well, that’s quite the grand gesture,” Barbara says. It’s followed by silence, not even the sound of her drawing on a joint and exhaling. “You might regret that, you know. It’s a lot to give up on.”
“I know. I understand that. And when I was thinking about it, when I was gearing up to come clean to Christopher, I thought the upside would be that I would receive his guidance, you know? We’d be a team. He would have been the perfect person to help me. Guide me.” Tears well up again. “Everything is ruined now. He won’t even listen to me. I can’t get through to him. He’s convinced I lied, and that’s all he sees. It’s my fault though, and I have to fix this. And I’m sorry, Barbara, he is more important than Red Barn to me. I love him. He’s who I want in my future.”
“Of course, honey. Of course. And you’ve tried everything?”
“The only thing left is for me to renounce Red Barn by not taking the exam. That’s all I have left. Red Barn was never going to be my long-term future anyway.”
She grunts her assent. “That makes perfect sense, in a way.”
That sounds like an easy win. “How so?”
“Rita thought Red Barn was the solution to her personal problems, when it was really its source. She wanted to impose that on you, and for some time you followed. But then circumstances forced you to see the light. You’re choosing love. That’s powerful. I’m proud of you.” There’s the sound of voices muffled by her hand on her phone, then she says, “Jerry can’t wait to meet you. We’ll see you soon.” And she hangs up.
I look at my darkened phone screen.
“Well, that went well,” Sarah says.
I’m about to dissect what Barbara said when I’m interrupted by a knock on our door. We exchange a look, and Sarah gets up and cracks the door open.
“You again? You have some nerve.” Sarah is trying to keep her voice low, but the tremor in it is telling.
“Please, I really need to talk to Alex.”
The voice grates like nails on a chalkboard. Didn’t she torture me enough already? I hide my head under the pillow. If Emma’s here to examine the physical effects of her manipulation, I won’t give her that satisfaction.
“How did you know where to find her?” Sarah asks. “Just leave her alone already. You got what you wanted.”
“It’s not what I wanted,” Emma answers. “I was just looking out for Chris.”
The welcome sound of a door shutting in her face is immediately followed by a rapping on the door again.
I muffle a scream. The woman has no shame.
“There’s something she needs to know,” Emma insists. “Please.”
Sarah lets out an exasperated sigh. “I’ll meet you downstairs,” she says, locking the door. She pulls her jeans and a sweatshirt above her short and tank-top pajamas. “Bitch isn’t coming in here. I’ll make sure she leaves and doesn’t bother you anymore,” she says to me.
I wait until the door shuts behind her to pull myself together. I stand, go to the bathroom, do my business, and splash water on my face.
I’m normally not a sobber, so the red blotches on my face are a surprise. I really don’t care right now.
I brush my hair and tie it in a ponytail, then apply some moisturizer.
Feeling halfway human, I plop on the bed, waiting for Sarah to return.
Then I decide I might as well put my jammies on, but the room phone rings.
And rings.
I look at it. I guess it’s for me?
“Hey, boo,” Sarah’s voice comes out gloomy. “You’re gonna wanna come downstairs.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. Really,” she whispers.
Shit.
I go downstairs.
There’s a small sitting room off the lobby with four blue wingback chairs and a coffee table. Sarah and Emma are sitting on opposite sides.
I glance at Emma, who’s studying her cuticles, and sit next to Sarah. She’s holding a document. I’m not fond of those right now.
What now?
Sarah takes a deep breath. “You know how you were going to prove your undying love to Christopher by giving up on Red Barn? Not going to the exam?”
“That’s what I’m doing.” I nod. However hurt I am right now, that’s the only thing I can do to prove my love for him.
“We have a problem,” Sarah says. She turns to Emma. “Go ahead.”
Emma looks up and takes a deep breath. Her chin pointing to the papers Sarah is holding, she says, “If you don’t go to the exam, or if you fail, Chris loses his grant. And if he loses his grant, he’s at risk of losing the bakery.”
“What the hell are you talking about.” I take the papers from Sarah and start reading.
Emma’s eyes are ruthlessly narrowed on me, as if I’m the accused in a particular brutal murder and she’s the prosecutor. “Chris got a grant from the Red Barn Foundation, several years ago. That grant stated as a condition that he may be asked to take in an apprentice on short notice. If he did get that request, he had to accept the apprentice and the apprentice needed to be successful. No dropping out, no failing the exam, or else the grant is due back, in full.” She looks at me, a harsh expression in her eyes.
I skim the grant, confirming everything Emma is saying. Confirming that I’m that apprentice. I remember her words from the first time I saw her doing books at the bakery.
Sarah clears her throat. “The grant is massive, Boo. It covered everything. Building, equipment, start-up costs. It’s how he was able to start a bakery in a remote place like here. Why didn’t he tell you?”
My heart is beating so hard in my chest I can’t breathe. What I’m reading confirms this as well.
“He didn’t want to put pressure on me,” I whisper.
I turn to Emma, and my anger flares. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
She pretends not to understand. As if her telling me now is enough.
“At Lazy’s, the day before the competition,” I say. “When you told Christopher I was to inherit from Rita Douglas. I said I wouldn’t take the exam, if it meant so much to him. I told him I didn’t care about Red Barn enough to lose him over it, and I could prove it by not going to the exam. And when I said that, you put your paw on him, as if to calm him down. You could have said something to me. You should have told me then, what this meant for Christopher.”
“It wasn’t my place.”
Air wooshes out my lungs. The nerve!
“Why didn’t Chris say anything?” Sarah interjects before I have time to ream into Emma.
“Christopher would never force anyone to do something for his benefit,” I say. And that’s why he never told me, during my whole apprenticeship. It would have been a lot of pressure on me. On anyone in my position.
Emma turns to Sarah, ignoring me. “Chris is proud. Too proud to ask anyone for help. That’s the only reason he hasn’t told Alexandra. That’s why I came tonight.”
“You’re so full of shit,” I spit. “You waited until I was so deep into promising him I’d do it to show him my love. You could have intervened at any time. You could have come during the competition.”
“I can’t disclose client information like that. Surely, even you can understand that.” Her disdain is palpable.
“So why the fuck are you here now?” I say between gritted teeth.
She widens her eyes. “I thought you’d understand why.”
“Oh, I understand, Emma. Because you can make it look like I changed my mind. Like I lied to him again, led him on. Like I don’t care about him.”
“You couldn’t stand seeing them happy together, could you?” Sarah snarls at Emma. “If you hadn’t interfered, hadn’t told Chris about Alex’s grandmother, none of this would have happened. They would be happy right now. He’d know the truth, would have heard it from Alex, and he would have supported her taking the exam. But you couldn’t stomach it.”
Blood swooshes in my ears.
“I was only looking out for him,” Emma answers, her chin trembling. “You can’t tell him I told you.”
“Honey,” I say, standing up and dropping the grant papers on the coffee table. “We, contrary to you, are not in the business of ruining people’s lives. But he’ll find out eventually. This is a small town. There are no secrets. But you are already know that, right?”
I lean toward her. “One last thing. No matter what you do, you’ll never love him the way I do. And he knows that.”
I only get a few hours of agitated sleep. I’m high-strung when I get to the big hotel where the baking testing takes place the next day.
I take deep breaths and calm down.
