“What about her, dear?” Mom asked.
“She’s going to help me get the house camera ready that way I can post some really nice pictures with the listing. I think it’s really going to give me the boost I need to help this business take off. She helped me pick out some flowers yesterday.”
“You’re going to need a lot more than flowers,” Dad’s voiced boomed behind him, his sentence ending with a laugh.
Every muscle in Tyler’s body tensed. What the hell was he doing here?
Tyler put the piece of bread he was about to eat down on his plate and turned to his father. “I didn’t think you’d be here.”
“Lucky for you, I am. Maybe I can finally talk some sense into you.”
Tyler’s jaw clenched, and he spun on the stool, unable to look at the man for another second. “I don’t need you to talk any sense into me. I’m doing just fine without your unsolicited advice.”
“You sure about that? From what I can tell, you’re about to sink another business into the ground.”
“Ted, have some cheese,” Mom said in a sad, but appreciated attempt to prevent the battle that was about to ensue.
“It’s almost as if you want me to fail,” Tyler said.
“Why the hell would I want that? Don’t you get it? Your constant failures reflect poorly on me.”
Tyler pressed his lips together and stood up. “That’s it, isn’t it? You couldn’t care less about what I want. All you care about is looking good. The only reason you want me to take the job with you is so you can keep me under lock and key to make sure I don’t embarrass you.”
“That’s not the only reason.”
Tyler scoffed as he slammed the stool into place. Mom gasped at the loud bang, but his attention was stuck on Dad and his arrogance.
“You think you can run a business,” Dad said. “But you don’t have the basic knowledge or skills to pull it off which you have proved time and time again. I’m trying to save you from your naivety before you waste any more of your trust fund.”
“Kind of hard to waste when you cut me off.”
“I’m doing it for your own good.”
“No, you’re doing it to punish me because I refuse to give you what you want.”
“If that’s what you’d like to believe, I can’t stop you.”
“It’s not what I want to believe; it’s the truth.”
“No!” Dad slammed his hand down on the counter. Mom jumped again, and this time she reached out, resting a hand on top of Dad’s, but he shook it off. “You think you’re so smart. Think you know everything. You don’t. You’ve been coddled your entire life, and you have no clue what real work is. You can’t just throw money at something and hope it sticks. That’s not how business or life work.”
“This coming from the man who hides behind his money.”
“And what exactly am I hiding?”
“I don’t have all afternoon to list it out for you, but I’ll start with me. I never asked you to bail me out of anything. Ever. But you always do, acting like you’re some knight in shining armor. You talk about me being coddled then that’s on you. If I’m going to fail, then let me fail. Stop bailing me out because you don’t want the world to know your son isn’t perfect.”
“Everyone already knows that. There’s no money in the world that could change that.”
Anger shot through Tyler, leaving a path of hot boiling fury in his blood. His fists clenched at his side, and he imagined what it would feel like to knock his father out. His eyes caught his mother’s, the silent plea in her green eyes, and he decided against it. He released his fists and stepped back.
“You don’t want me to coddle you anymore,” Dad said. “Then fine. Let’s see what happens when I’m not there to bail your ass out.”
“Ted, you can’t do that,” Mom said, but Dad stood firm, staring at Tyler with stubborn determination.
“No, Mr. Bigshot here thinks he can get by without my help then who am I to stop him? Your trust will be held until further notice. I hope you haven’t blown through what you already have.”
Tyler glared back. “Like I said. I never needed your help.” He glanced over to Mom. “Sorry, Mom, but I need to head out early. I’ll see you next week.”
He stormed out of the house and when he was finally in his truck far away from his father, he slammed his fist into the steering wheel.
Chapter 7
After an hour of ripping out weeds, Brooke stepped out of the flower bed, swiped her forearm across the sweat on her forehead, and surveyed the work she’d accomplished. It was far from done, but it already looked a hell of a lot better. Now a person could actually see the house beyond the dead and overgrown shrubbery.
Once the flowers were in place, the house would look amazing. With the proper pictures and an enticing description of the property, Tyler would be booking up in no time. Pride swelled inside Brooke, and it was silly, but the fact that she got to be a part of this, even if it was a tiny part, made her feel good.
She was about to grab some flowers and begin planting when Tyler’s truck whipped into the driveway and came to a screeching halt.
He jumped down, pushing his aviator sunglasses onto the top of his head. “What the hell are you doing here?” he asked, taking Brooke by surprise.
She put a hand over her head, blocking the sun from her eyes. “Thought I’d get an early start. You’re welcome,” she spat at the inconsiderate jerk.
“I didn’t ask you to.”
Annoyance swelled inside her, and she dropped the small hand shovel that she was holding. A rant about how he was the biggest asshole she’d ever known halted on her tongue when she noticed the desolate look in his deep blue eyes. “What happened?”
“Nothing,” he snapped.
“Sure as hell doesn’t look like nothing.”
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
Brooke hated to see his discontent, but it’s not like she could give him a hug. If she did, he’d probably drop dead from shock. She bent down, picked up the shovel, and held it out to him. “Good. I don’t like to talk when I work anyway.”
He swiped the shovel from her hand and stormed over to the flower bed. He looked around like a lost soul then stomped over to the flowers. It was obvious he had no idea what the hell he was doing, so Brooke pointed to the yellow flowers. “I was going to plant those in the far-left bed going along the perimeter to create a natural border.”
Without a word, he nodded, picked the batch of flowers up, and got to work.
She lied about the whole not talking while she worked and was dying to ask him again about what had gotten him so angry. It was probably his dad. Whenever Tyler was pissed off, going as far back as when they were kids, it had always been because of his dad.
Brooke often wondered who had it worse. Her with an abusive father who took off, leaving them to fend with little to nothing. Or Tyler who had a dad with money but who constantly knocked Tyler down. For the first time in Brooke’s life she was happy for her situation. Before her father was popping up on TV screens and in the tabloids, she was able to push him out of her mind completely. She never saw him, so it was an easy thing to do. Just seeing his face now made her angry. Brooke couldn’t imagine what she would do if she had to live in the same town with the man.
The sun rose in the sky, shining brightly and making for an ungodly hot late August day. Brooke was happy she’d worn shorts and a t-shirt even if her t-shirt was soaked through. They worked in silence for at least an hour when Brooke glanced over at Tyler who had grabbed the hydrangea bush and was currently placing it in the most random spot in the flower bed.
“Don’t put that there,” she said, pointing to the hydrangea bush.
“Why not?” he asked, looking at her with a perturbed scowl.
“Because it won’t work there.”
“Again, why not?” His tone was far from friendly, but she ignored him.
“We want to create flow, and if you put that there it
will disrupt the flow I’m trying to create.”
“They’re flowers; they don’t need to flow. They just need to grow and look pretty.”
“And this is exactly why I’m here, and you should keep your mouth shut and agree with me.”
“Last I checked, I owned the property.”
“And last I checked you were going to lose the property if you didn’t start getting bookings.”
Tyler’s eyes widened and his jaw clenched, and she swore she could see steam coming out of his ears. “How do you know that?”
Brooke shrugged. “Lucky guess.”
“Well, that’s not going to happen. It can’t.” There was a finality in his tone that made Brooke not want to question it.
“Then you need to let me handle this part.”
His lip curled and his eyes darkened.
She held her hands up, dirt smudged along her forearms. “I’m trying to help you here.”
The tension in his face eased, and he closed his eyes for a moment. When he opened them, the darkness faded. “I know and I’m sorry. My dad got in my head this morning and…”
“Want to talk about it now?”
“You hungry?” he asked, completely ignoring her question.
She hadn’t eaten anything other than a granola bar she’d grabbed when she headed out of the house. “I can definitely eat something.”
“I have to make a stop in town. We can grab something to eat at the Happy Apple.”
Brooke’s body stiffened, and she shot him a look. “We can’t go to the Happy Apple.” Was he out of his mind? Being seen in public was bad enough, but if they went to the Happy Apple they were asking for trouble.
The Happy Apple was located on Main Street in the heart of the town. It was frequented by every local, but that wasn’t her biggest concern.
“Why not?” he asked, obviously completely clueless to the bomb they’d be creating.
“The minute we walk in the door together, just the two of us, Terry is going to get all sorts of ideas in her head.”
“What sort of ideas?”
Was he really this dense? “That you and I are a couple.”
Tyler laughed loud and almost insultingly. “Anyone who knows us knows there is no way in hell that would happen.”
Jeez, the guy really knew how to inflate her ego. “I know that, and you know that, but she won’t. Like a chicken she’ll go and cluck to Betty Hayes who will then cluck to one of her grandkids and the vicious rumor mill will start.”
Gossip in their small town spread like wildfire, and Brooke would know. She’d been the one to light the match quite a few times. She just needed to tell the right person something, and before she could blink an eye, everyone and their brother would know. Terry was one of those people, and while she loved Terry like a grandmother, she didn’t want to be on the end of her wagging tongue.
“Like a chicken?” he questioned, eyebrows pinching together above the bridge of his nose.
“Yes! They’ll cluck, cluck, cluck, spreading rumors.”
“I never realized chickens were into town gossip.”
“Don’t be a smartass.”
Tyler held his hands up in defense like she was about to haul off and whack him one. It was tempting, but she kept her hands to herself. “You’re overthinking this.”
“Am I?”
“Yes.”
“Have you not lived in this town your entire life?”
“I have which is why I’m not going to let the idea of town gossip keep me from having a good meal. Now you’re either coming or you can stay, but either way, I’m going to get me something to eat.”
“I’m covered in dirt and sweat,” she said.
“It’s a good look for you.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Shut up.”
“I have a towel in the truck you can use to clean yourself up.”
“I’m going to need more than a towel.”
“I don’t have time for that.” He walked over to his pickup and pulled himself into the big truck. She looked at the flowerbeds that still needed plants, but then her stomach made an ungodly noise.
Tyler beeped the horn and held his hands up in question. With a defeated sigh, she dragged her feet to the passenger door and jumped in.
A pleased smile curved his lips. “Glad you came to your senses.”
“If we become town gossip, it’s on you.”
He handed her the towel that had the name of his dad’s company on it. “It’s a risk I’m willing to take for some apple, bacon, cheddar grilled cheese.”
Tyler put the truck in gear and drove away from the house while Brooke tried to make herself look as presentable as possible. Some horrible old rock song blared through the speakers, and Brooke fought the urge to reach across the cab and put something else on.
An eternity later, Tyler brought the truck to a stop, and Brooke let out a very enthusiastic, “Hallelujah.”
“What?” he asked.
“I’m going to have to invest in earplugs if you’re not going to let me touch the radio.”
“Are you serious? That was—”
“A classic? I know. But just because it’s a classic doesn’t mean it’s good.”
“I can’t even look at you right now.” He shook his head and slipped out of the truck.
Brooke laughed as she made her way to the sidewalk. Tyler waited for her, which was an unexpected gesture. “Aw you waited for me,” she said in a mocking tone.
“No, I didn’t.”
“Then what would you call it?”
“Trying to recover from the nonsense that just came out of your mouth.”
“You are such a drama queen. Besides, it’s just music.”
“Just music!” he said and grabbed his chest. “You’re killing me.”
“Yet, here you are, still standing and getting on my nerves.” She motioned to the Happy Apple. “Can we go inside now? Or are you still dying?” She shot a glance at him then with a flip of her head she marched passed him toward the Happy Apple.
He caught up with her before she got to the entrance and pulled the door open. He waited for her to go inside and then followed.
Apple décor adorned the walls, shelves, and tabletops. It was gimmicky and some people would probably turn their noses up at the apple theme overload, but to Brooke, this place represented a safe haven with people who loved her despite her rough edges.
Terry came out of the kitchen, red hair piled high on her head and bracelets clanking with each step. Her sky-high heels were red today and gave a nice pop of color to her leopard print top and black pants. Brooke always admired Terry’s bold style. At times it was a little too heavy on the leopard print for Brooke’s taste, but she loved how Terry didn’t care what people thought about her. She wore what she wanted when she wanted. It was an admirable quality that Brooke appreciated.
“If it isn’t two of my favorite people,” Terry said.
Brooke shook her head. “You say that to everyone.”
Terry arched a perfectly manicured eyebrow toward her red hair. “Yes, but you two are at the top of that list.”
“And you’re at the top of mine.” Tyler took Terry’s hand and kissed her knuckles. Terry whacked him with a menu.
“Would you two like a room?” Brooke asked. “Though I’m not sure how Walt would feel about that.” Brooke turned to Terry’s husband who walked out from the kitchen, a warm smile on his face. He was a large intimidating man, but to anyone who knew him he was the sweetest, kindest man they would ever meet.
Terry turned to her husband, and Walt swatted a hand. “You can have her,” he said and Brooke laughed. Walt was also hilarious.
“You wouldn’t know what to do without me,” Terry said.
Walt’s cheeks reddened as he gave a sheepish grin. “Get some peace and quiet.”
“Peace and quiet with your mismatched socks and dirty underwear since I’m the only one willing to wash your drawers.”
“Oh hush! These kids d
on’t want to hear about my dirty drawers before they eat.”
Brooke snapped and pointed her finger at Walt. “Man’s got a point.”
“I was just making my own point,” Terry said.
Aware this conversation could easily morph into more awkward sharing, Brooke nodded toward an empty table in the far corner. “That table open?” Brooke asked, cutting Terry off from something she was about to say.
“Sure is, sweetie. You two take these menus, and I’ll be right over.”
Tyler took the menus from Terry’s grasp and led the way to the table. He waited for Brooke to sit before he did, which she found oddly considerate.
She sat with her back to the wall, and Tyler sat across from her, his back to the dining area.
“See?” Tyler handed her a menu. “Nobody thought it was weird that we were here.”
Brooke looked up at him through long lashes, but chose not to say anything. If he thought that little interaction at the door was any sign of what was going through Terry’s head then he hadn’t been paying attention for the last twenty-four years of their lives.
She looked down at her menu and heard the clank of Terry’s bracelet’s as she made her way over to them. Terry placed two glasses of water on the table then rested her hand on the table, shifting her weight to one hip.
“My bunions are on fire today,” she exclaimed, and Tyler stifled a laugh.
“Maybe you should invest in a pair of flats,” Brooke said, and Terry gasped, slapping a hand over her heart.
“The day I put on a pair of flats is the day you might as well start digging my grave.”
“There’s nothing wrong with flats.” Brooke had many pairs in her closet. Being on her feet all day at Calhoun’s, there was no way she’d make it to the end of her shift. She honestly had no idea how Terry did it.
Blindsided by Brooke Page 5
