by Patti Larsen
Because I wasn’t over him. Fiona Fleming. Seriously.
“You listen to me.” Mom cupped my face in her hands, her eyes intent while I inhaled and exhaled through my open mouth. “That, that, person,” she seemed to doubt he might even be human and I seconded her thought, long deciding even calling him a reptile insulted poor scaled creatures who didn’t deserve such comparison, “doesn’t get to make you feel badly about who you are or what you’re doing. In fact, if anything, he needs to see just how amazingly well you turned out without him. Despite him.” She nodded sharply while I choked on the last of the shocked tears I’d been shedding and straightened my shoulders as her hands fell from my face.
“I know,” I whispered, nodded like that would change anything. Even though I had to admit it changed nothing. “Mom, I know. You’re right. I just didn’t…” Damn it, why did he have to be here, now? Why my town? Worst timing ever. If he somehow managed to screw up my life with Crew, I’d…
And I was crying all over again. Just freaking great.
Mom patted my cheek before handing me a tissue from her apron. “Ryan gave up the right to make you feel anything when he decided he’d rather be with someone else.” She sounded madder than her reasonable words might have suggested, like she was contemplating his murder in a way no one would ever suspect his death wasn’t an oopsie accident. She was a former sheriff’s wife, after all, and pretty freaking brilliant. I was positive if she decided Ryan was going to die he’d disappear forever and ever, amen.
Not her job, but her fierceness did a lot to help me recover. I shook off the last of the shock his appearance woke in me and physically pulled myself together, shoving the cuffs of my leather jacket up my forearms, forcing my head and shoulders back. He had the guts to come to my town after what he did? Not just cheating on me, no, but trying to set me up as a patsy for his fraud scheme back when Pete Wilkins tried to steal my bed and breakfast out from under me? Yeah, we’d just see about that. I had no idea such a long, lingering trail of payback had been lurking in the shadows of my heart all this time. Yes, I’d had multiple episodes of his influence poke me in the soft spots of my soul over and over again, but I didn’t realize he still had this kind of control over me, if only through the residue of long-held emotional hurt.
Well, good to know. And thank goodness for my mother who gave me the time to sort out exactly how I was going to handle this now that my little bout of poor me, book hoo, surprise and gushing little girl tears was over with.
Ryan’s ass handed to him on a silver platter, coming up.
But I didn’t get to do the deed. As if sensing I was stable enough to be left to my own devices without melting down the entire planet, Mom swept past me and into the dining room, leaving me to follow. I marched after her, catching up with her as she came to a stomping halt in Ryan’s face, her little body vibrating, redhead temper just controlled under her perfect hair and crisp apron.
“How dare you?” She might not have yelled, but her tone carried, her sharp words making him flinch even more than the realization he was staring at a furious Lucy Fleming. Ryan’s eyes flew wide, those big, brown eyes I remembered, before his startled gaze rose from Mom, almost in slow motion (or was that me?) and over her head to fix on mine.
Okay, so either he was the dumbest stump on the hill and really had no idea he’d landed himself on my home turf or he’d taken acting lessons since I’d left New York and really deserved to win an Oscar. I was willing to believe the first, though he’d lied to me so well about the other wom(e)n he’d been sleeping with while we were together surely the second one might have been possible. I just stood there and stared back at him, glared, actually, while Mom jabbed a finger in his plaid-shirted chest. Giving me time to take in the sight of him past the initial knee-jerk to the crotch reaction I’d just lived through.
Poser. He looked like he was doing his best to fit into his surrounds, that kind of lumberjackesque turn toward hipster yuck as city boy met mountainside without a clue that the boots he wore would give him blisters if he wasn’t careful and the artful tear in the knee of his designer jeans wouldn’t keep him warm out here in the November chill. At least he hadn’t grown a beard and had failed to sport a toque, bless him. Though, I had to admit he looked good, still tall and lean, still with that boyish handsomeness that attracted me in the first place. As though Peter Pan and a Hollywood star had decided to meld together, all angular cheekbones and wide jaw and big, innocent eyes hiding duplicity behind the longest, thickest eyelashes known to man.
Damn him. He could at least have a few wrinkles. But no, his spa visits must have been current, and I was positive without looking those long, narrow fingers ended in a manicure.
“Fee.” His voice sounded a bit shaky, though he lost no time frowning at me, the lack of a line between his brows telling me he’d started getting injections to prevent it. Almost funny if he wasn’t actually prettier than me. “What are you doing here?” Wait, he was pissed? He was pissed? Hell no way, uh-huh, choke on that scowl and suffocate, jerkface.
“Um, you’re in my hometown.” Hey, good for me, my voice didn’t shake, not even a little and the way my arms crossed authoritatively over my chest like I knew exactly who I was and what I was doing? Awesome. As long as there wasn’t visible evidence of my crying jag, I’d have the upper hand. Crap. Was I a mottled mess? No time to check a mirror now, not with him standing here in full view.
He actually looked startled again, the moron. “I didn’t know that.”
Oh my god. And that described Ryan Richards in a particularly fancy nutshell, didn’t it? The fact we dated for five whole years, lived together almost that whole time and it never once registered or sunk in I lived in Reading. A simple and fairly human thing to remember about someone you once said you loved, right? Good to know I hadn’t overreacted leaving New York like that.
“Fee.” Eddie crossed in front of Ryan, a strained smile on his face. Yup, it was the same Eddie Mauer, naturally. He was at least a bit embarrassed by the whole meeting if the tight expression around his eyes was telling. One hand shot out and he offered it to me, though I was pretty sure if he managed to get a grip on me he’d be hauling me out of the entry and somewhere he could have a chat in private. Considering this was my town and the self-important look of the two older men now entering the retreat? Yeah, not giving him any satisfaction, thanks.
“Eddie.” I jutted my jaw on purpose. Just try and bully me. “Welcome to Reading.”
He dropped his hand after a moment, flicker of a frown crossing his face. “Thanks,” he said. “I didn’t realize you lived here.”
“Born and raised here,” I said. “And came back here when I left the city.” I didn’t bother glaring at Ryan or voicing the fact the dick I’d wasted so many years on had failed to mention that to his friend, my ex-friend.
Eddie didn’t get to comment on that. One of the men, his broad face slightly red as if from exertion though he’d barely broken a walk getting inside, interrupted in a booming voice that screamed “pay attention to me.”
“I thought you said I’d be impressed?” He laughed, large belly bouncing over his big belt buckle, jeans hanging low under his gut, the dress shirt he wore straining over his paunch as if begging someone to save it from the inevitable failure of its little white buttons. Great, another jackass to deal with.
Eddie spun away from me with a bigger smile, though his tone was strained when he answered so I could only guess this whole arrogant attitude wasn’t new and was, likely, going to get on my nerves fast.
“Welcome to the Black Forest Hunting and Fishing Retreat, Grayson,” he said like the big man hadn’t just insulted the place. “Adrian. This is, of course, the front entry and welcome area. We’re still working on renovations, but we wanted to keep the old world charm of the place for those who enjoy a rustic feel.”
Grayson grunted, beady eyes sweeping over the interior, thinning blond hair swept over the shiny spot on the top of his head. “I’ve
seen better.” Yikes. Well, I wasn’t really feeling sorry for Eddie. If this was the kind of clientele he wanted to attract he could deal with the blowback.
Problem was, the big man with the bad attitude seemed to think he had a say. And that he owned the place and the people in it. His gaze traveled over Dan, who he ignored. When he noticed Caleb, his grin turned nasty.
“Fetch my bags, boy,” he said, wiping at his nose with one thick thumb. “And show me to the booze.” His barking laugh chased the frowning young man out the door. A bully. Lovely. Though I’d dealt with bullies in the past, so it wasn’t like this was a new concept.
Oh, but fresh hells came in all sorts of shapes and sizes, didn’t they? Case in point. Because while this arrogant splotch on the good name of manhood might have been rude to the help, he was much worse when women were involved. How did I come to that realization? The moment his gaze settled on Mom everything about him shifted. I watched him turn from petulant man-child unhappy with his lot in life to predatory creep out to pillage.
I saw Mom flinch just the barest bit and knew she’d been as aware of his attention as I was. Didn’t make it okay, nor did the slow swagger that carried him across the foyer to her side. Ryan stepped back, still glaring at me, while Grayson reached out and attempted to take Mom’s hand. Instead, she tucked both into her apron and leveled that high school principal, no nonsense mister, nothing to see here, move along look that had crippled lesser men in its path.
Trouble was, it looked like this Grayson character wasn’t going to take Mom’s beat it, jerk, for an answer. “Grayson Gallinger,” he said, winking like that was going to get him anywhere with my mother.
“Lucy Fleming,” she said, curt, pert. “My daughter, Fiona.” She nodded to me and I scowled back, arms still crossed over my chest. “I trust you’ll enjoy your stay.” And, with that, she spun on one heel and marched back to the kitchen. Leaving him to stare after her with the sort of hunger that had nothing to do with food.
I should have followed her and not just to the supplies we’d left. Instead, I needed to grab her and shove her in the car and get our butts out of here, lickety split. No way was I serving Ryan Richards, let alone this piece of self-entitled old white dude who would likely at some point end up dead because he tried to pinch my mother’s butt.
Instead, I found myself under his scrutiny while the final guest interrupted, his voice much more suave, his attitude less creepy and more familiar. I realized why when he crossed to me and shook my hand, perfect teeth flashing white in his handsome older face.
“Miss Fleming,” he said, “a pleasure to meet you. Adrian Winterton.” His grip wasn’t as powerful as I was expecting, the heavy, black support wrap crossing his palm and the back of his hand, disappearing under the cuff of his shirt. But I realized why he looked familiar. Politician, a state senator. “I’ve had the good luck to meet your father a few times. Hell of a sheriff. I hear he’s running his own outfit these days. And that you’re following close in his footsteps.”
Smarmy politicospeak I could handle no problem. I had enough practice thanks to Olivia. I even mustered a professional smile. “Senator,” I said. “Lovely to meet you. I’ll say hello to Dad when I see him.” Did Adrian talk about my father on purpose? As a warning to Grayson to steer clear of Mom? I chose to believe he did, while the other man’s face tightened in a flash of anger, red cheeks darkening further.
“Just show me my damned room already,” Grayson snapped to no one in particular. Caleb was huffing up the steps, loaded down with bags, at that exact moment and caught the worst guest ever’s attention again. I could tell from the sudden surge in interest Grayson had chosen his torture target for the weekend and a big part of my heart went out to the handsome young man.
Not enough for me to make an attempt to save him, though. I had my own problems, as selfish as that made me. This wasn’t my business to run. And if Caleb chose to work here, for someone like Eddie, catering to people like Grayson Gallinger? His choice.
In the midst of his arrival and Grayson’s subsequent browbeating that started at a rumbling grunt and escalated as the fat old fart followed his focus of attention to the stairs, I made my retreat. Perfect timing and exactly the cue I needed to move on. I spun and left the foyer, heading for Mom and our exit. Let them figure out their crap. The Fleming girls were going home.
***
Chapter Ten
Thing was, I didn’t go back to the kitchen alone. Eddie had the nerve to follow me and, as I opened my mouth to tell Mom we were out, he spoke up first.
“I can’t tell you what an amazing opportunity this is for both of you.” He kept his voice down, his hand falling on my shoulder like he had the right to touch me, the traitor. I shrugged him off, anger flaring while he went on. “I’m going to ask you to be extra nice the next two days and I promise there will be a bonus in it for you.”
He said what? Did he really just suggest what I thought he suggested? And to me, to Mom? The only two people here who actually didn’t need him or his ridiculous business? Gross. On so many freaking levels I couldn’t even. I gagged a bit, I swear it. But, like seemed to be the new norm, Mom hit the beat harder and faster than I was able, swinging around with a spatula in one hand and that particular go screw yourself expressions she’d cultivated while still looking awesomely perky and professional.
“You listen to me right now, young man,” she said in her coolest Lucy Fleming. “You may need us, but I can assure you, under no circumstances, do either of us need you. In fact, the door is right there,” she gestured at the exit, “and I’ll not hesitate a single heartbeat to walk out on you and go back to our real work at a moment’s notice.” You tell him, Mom. I just wasn’t capable yet. “So, you just take that to heart and chew on it a bit. Meanwhile, you make sure to give us what we need in order to keep this place running smoothly and maybe, just maybe, your guests will have food in their bellies and clean sheets to sleep on for the duration.” I choked on laughter this time. Mom was on a roll. “And let me tell you in no uncertain terms, Mr. Mauer, there will be zero tolerance of any kind of hanky panky or rudeness from any of your guests. My daughter and I are here as a favor to you, not the other way around, thanks to Olivia Walker. You can believe, Mr. Mauer, we’ll be utilizing her last name and exiting this property in an instant if anything disagreeable occurs to either of us.”
I might have been grinning. Nope, no might. Definitely grinning. Openly. With relish. And Eddie might have witnessed it. Had to watch it evolve across my face like a sunrise over Jerkville, population him.
Sucker.
He gurgled something that sounded like he wished he’d kept his damned mouth shut and spun to leave. I followed him this time, catching him in the dining room, feeling like I’d been relegated to a revolving nightmare back and forth between the kitchen and the foyer but not knowing how to get off this particular carnival ride just yet.
“Listen,” I said, grabbing the elbow of his jacket, turning him toward me and taking in his own anger, though whether it was aimed at me or not I had no idea, nor did I care. “Mom means business and so do I. We have a history, Eddie, so you know I’m not screwing around here. If anything happens we don’t like, we’re out and you’re on your own.”
Was he sweating? Good.
“I didn’t mean to suggest you should tolerate harassment.” He wiped at his upper lip a moment before going on. “I just wanted to impress the importance of our visitors, that’s all.” And bully us into silence in the process. Nope, not buying it. But it meant he knew exactly what kind of person Grayson was and wasn’t prepared to stand up for us if the going got tough and his source of income got going.
“Tell Ryan to stay out of my way,” I snapped. “And you, too, Eddie. Seriously, the two of you. Here. I have no idea what you were thinking, but Reading is my town and if you for a second believe you’re going to make your business fly here without my support, without Mom’s?” I laughed, hating that it felt good, not liking mysel
f much at the moment but unable to stop the need to show him who was boss despite how dirty it made my insides. “Good luck making ends meet.”
He actually looked worried. Okay, time to dial down the superhero. Or was that the maniacal arch villain? I was kind of playing the wrong side, wasn’t I?
At least he seemed to get it, hands raised in front of him as if warding me off. “I didn’t know, Fee,” he said, “I swear. I had no idea you were from Reading. I would never have brought Ryan here if I’d known.” I might have been naive at one point in my life, but that was a long time ago. Still, I bought it, bought his nervousness and anxiety and finally relented.
“Whatever,” I said. “There’s tons of games in town, Eddie, just so you know. Yours is only one in a long list. So best practices or move along. Got it?”
He nodded like I had a say in the matter. Well, I sort of did. One word to Olivia and I could make his life miserable, or more miserable than it already was. Then again, she had her own agenda and the likelihood I could influence her was a 50/50 split depending on what she thought she could get out of it. So I was probably just blowing smoke. Seemed to work, though.
“I’ll do my best to keep the others out of your way,” he said. “Thanks for doing this.” Eddie hustled then, leaving me vibrating with the remains of my anger and without a conduit for its escape.
Instead, I returned to the kitchen where I found my mother abusing pots and pans with the level of force required to forge them, not use them to make meals. She spun on me, her redheaded temper finally flaring to full life as she slammed the oven door so hard the whole unit jumped. Quite a feat for the six burner gas range.
