by Lia London
Megan’s eyes widened with enthusiasm, and a few minutes later, she sat outside the dorm unit recounting her adventure one more time.
With inexplicable animosity roiling in her, Maris wanted to fume, but as she watched Chieko in action, she saw genius. Chieko drew from the girl a tale of her life on the streets as a homeless teen, and how this place with kind people who treated her well was a miracle for her.
By the time Megan finished, James the cameraman panned over to the enormous stack of Lumberjack hygiene supplies, and Chieko launched into a glowing tribute to Crawford Andrews and his spirit of volunteerism and altruism.
Maris could tell that Chieko and Crawford had been more than casual acquaintances.
She stopped to view the tape with James as Crawford pulled up in his Mustang.
Maris signaled to Megan, and the two went over to meet him. “Guess who’s here?”
“Chieko?” asked Crawford.
Maris frowned. Did he have feelings for her? “No. I mean, yes. But I meant Megan from the other night with her beautiful baby girl—named Angel!”
“Sweet!” Crawford bounded from the car and swept Megan and the baby up in a hug. “This is awesome! Baby can be the mascot!”
With a smile, Maris stepped back. Her heart and brain kept swirling around and going over bumps, too emotional, with ups and downs and sucker punches happening all day.
Chieko strolled over. “Ready for your part of the show?”
“Me?” Maris wilted. “I’m all grubby from working all day.”
“Good. Then we’ll have truth in journalism.” She waved her hand back at Crawford. “No one will believe he lifted a finger, looking like a breezy supermodel.”
As Chieko nudged Maris into position for the camera, her face softened. In an almost maternal gesture, she combed Maris’ hair back with her fingers.
“Don’t get your hopes up too high. Guys like Crawford look amazing holding a baby, but he’s not in the market for one.”
Though Chieko’s fingers were gentle, her words cut through Maris’ lungs, drawing a gasp. “What do you mean?”
“He doesn’t commit.” She gave a meaningful look.
“Were you two together, then?”
Chieko shook her head, a hint of sadness playing at the corner of her mouth. “I had my glorious weeks with him last summer. I cut it off when I he hit on two other women at the same time. They were my cast mates, so I found out.”
“Oh my …” Bile rose in Maris’ throat. “Can you give me a minute before we film. I need to … freshen up.”
“Sure.”
Maris ran inside the dorm unit, hurdling cots to get to the bathroom in the back. Cranking on the water in the sink, she splashed cold water onto her face, hoping it would wash away the hot tears.
Crawford watched from beside James the cameraman as Chieko interviewed Maris about the shelter. She explained how the four units would be divided and then credited Crawford with 90% of the work. Though her praise painted him as saintly, her typical buoyancy was not there. Either she was staying professional in front of the cameras, or she was too tired to be her usual peppy self.
He kept trying to catch her eye, so he could give her an encouraging smile. He even held his fist poised by his chin, so he could throw a thumb up to let her know how she was doing, but she never glanced in his direction.
Not until she drew her comments to a close. “He’s been absolutely amazing. We’ll be sorry to see him go back down to Portland, but I’m sure you need your hero back. I guess we’ll muddle through without him.”
So that was it. She didn’t expect him to stay. Maybe didn’t even want him to stay. He’d performed his grunt work and she no longer needed or wanted him.
Crawford raked his fingers through his Maris-scented hair and tried to sort out his feelings.
“Okay, Crawdaddy!” called Chieko. “You’re it. Grand finale. Once we get this take, James and I will head back and get the edits going. I can send you a clip before it airs. Probably this Saturday. Hope it helps you and the shelter.”
He stared at her, taken aback by how far out of her way she’d gone to do this feature article. With a wry grin, he wrapped her under one arm and ruffled her hair. “You rock, Chieko. I don’t deserve any of this.”
Chieko shrugged herself free and smoothed her hair. Tossing her chin at Maris, she said, “She sure thinks you do.”
Crawford positioned himself in front of the camera, his eyes wistfully following Maris. “Yeah,” he muttered, not really listening.
Snapping her fingers, Chieko called his attention forward. “Hey. Head in the game. No flashing those washboard abs now but stand tall. Let Portland see the full measure of your gorgeousness.”
With an exaggerated roll of his eyes and a sloppy grin, Crawford assumed one of his favorite modeling stances. “Okay, I’m ready. Shoot.”
***
Chieko proved a merciful interviewer, not ambushing Crawford with any embarrassing questions. By the time she and James packed up their van and drove away, he’d regained his confidence.
Until he saw Maris closing up shop.
A knot formed in his stomach as her eyes caught his with a cold, distant gaze.
“Done already?” He strode over, peering through the glass at the darkened room. “Don’t you need me to do anything else?”
She jangled her keys nervously in her hand. “You’ve done enough already, Crawford. I can’t ask for more.”
“I don’t mind.”
“Don’t you have a long drive ahead? I wouldn’t want you wrapping yourself around a tree on my account.” Her pace quickened, and she fumbled with the key fob.
“Maris.” He caught her arm. “What’s wrong? Did I do something?”
Her tense laugh morphed into a scoff. “Of course. Look at all this you’ve done. You’re amazing!” Nothing in her tone matched her words.
“Maris.” Grasping both shoulders, he tilted his head to meet her gaze.
“What?” she spat.
His stomach pinched. “What did I do?”
Her eyes welled in an instant. “You slept with her, didn’t you?”
“What? Who?”
“Chieko.” The name came out in a moan.
Drops of sweat budded on his forehead, and he leaned his forearms on the roof of her car. “Oh.” He swallowed. “Maris, it was a whole year ago.”
“Yeah, but how many have there been since?” She held up her hands, squeezing her eyes shut. “No, don’t tell me. I don’t want to know.”
“Oh come on, Maris. I’m twenty-five years old. I’m not going to wait forever on that stuff.”
“That stuff? On love?” Her eyes blazed as she slapped her chest. “I’ve waited. I waited, and like a fool, I thought I could mean something to someone before they’d want to toss me in bed and—”
“May I remind you that you were the one who invited me into your bed last night?” His guilt quickly boiled over into resentment. “And I did nothing inappropriate. I never pushed you. I didn’t spoil your precious purity.”
“Oh, look at you, using fancy alliteration.”
Crawford wasn’t sure what the word meant, but he knew sarcasm when he heard it, and coming from Maris, it felt out-of-place and ugly.
“I’m trying to be smart enough for you, Maris,” he said, layering his voice with venom to hide his shame. “To be good enough. But I’m just a stupid model. A boy toy. A bag of muscles. I could never be enough for a perfect person like you.” He felt his chest tighten as he voiced the truth with such a spiteful tone. “I’ve never tried so hard and gotten so little in return.”
He spun on his heel and stormed over to his car. “I’ll head back to Portland now. You won’t have to deal with my imperfections any more. You can close the storybook now. The end.”
He was two miles down the road before he could see clearly through the tears of rage.
Chapter 14 ~ A New Company Plan
“Don’t let your tears drain you,” soothed Adi, rubbing circ
les on Maris’ back. “Let them—”
“You said that before,” sobbed Maris. “It didn’t work!”
“All right,” said Adi. She scooted the bag of chocolates closer. “Let’s try another angle: All men are scum.”
“I know!” shrieked Maris. She rustled into the sack and pulled out a handful of chocolates. When she’d stuffed three into her mouth at once, she let her head drop back to her desk. “Except he’s not. Oh, Adi, what have I done?”
“What have you done?”
“I watched him walk away. I should have given him what he wanted. Maybe then he’d stay, and—”
“And then you’d hate yourself instead of hating him.”
“I know!” Maris wailed. “But I can’t hate him! Why can’t I hate him?”
“Because he’s gorgeous, and he’s been nothing but wonderful to you?”
“You’re not helping.” She gripped Adi’s arm with desperation. “I need to hate him. I need to hate somebody, Adi.”
“Why? You never have before.”
“Except Claudia.”
“That’s a given, honey. No one holds it against you.”
Maris puckered her forehead. “What if I hate Crawford?”
“Do you hate Crawford?”
“No.”
“Do you need to?”
Maris felt her insides twist. “I need to. It hurts too much to love him.”
“Oh, honey,” said Adi, rolling her chair closer and wrapping her arms around Maris’ shoulders. “Love does that. New love, old love. It doesn’t matter. If your heart was in it, there’s always a risk.”
“Yeah.” Maris sniffed into the desktop. “The love snuck up on me. I thought I was just crushing on beautiful, and then … he changed me.” When had she grown the courage to break away from Conway Comm? When had she gained the conviction that her desires to help the homeless should be her top goal, not a sideline? When had she found enough crazy inside of her to ride a zipline through the trees?
Crawford had empowered her just by believing in her. He saw past her looks to her potential as a whole human being.
Maris’ head lolled to the side, and she peered, squish-cheeked at Adi’s smiling face. “He made me want to be better. To be what he sees in me.”
Adi nodded. “I kind of got the sense that’s how he felt about you, too.”
Maris’ eyes popped wider before squeezing shut to cut off another round of tears. Her life had fallen in pieces with no one to blame but herself. “This is all my fault. I have no future.”
“You have a great future,” countered Adi.
Maris sat up and counted on her fingers. “I quit my job without having a back-up plan. I’ve never worked for anyone but Dad, and he’s too furious with me to give me any leads. And the most beautiful man in the world just drove off into the sunset and left me with a hundred cases of Lumberjack Lather.”
“That’s really good stuff.” Adi snagged a chocolate for herself.
“I know.” Maris wiped her nose. “And you know what the worst part is?”
“What? That you did all this to yourself because you reacted too rashly and assumed you weren’t worth enough to stand your ground and demand more?”
Maris blinked at her, her tears halting mid-track down her cheeks. “I was going to say, ‘Crawford’s what I’ll regret most,’ but thanks for putting my whole, crappy, useless life into perspective.”
“That’s what friends do, Angel.”
Maris moaned and flopped her head all the way back. “Don’t call me that anymore. It’ll make me think of Angel’s Rest.”
“The Annex?”
“It’s all I’ve got to live for now.”
“Until you leave Conway Comm.” Adi pulled the chocolates away from Maris. “I think this is where you have to figure out which things are worth fighting for.”
“Then what?”
“Then make a plan, like you always do.”
“And you’ll help me?”
“Don’t I always have your back?”
Maris nodded. Her job, the Annex, and Crawford had all been driven over a cliff by her own stupidity, but she’d find a way to get them back. All of them.
Mile after mile ticked by, marked by little green signs at the side of the road. Cheney, Sprague, Ritzville. Who had ever heard of these towns? He stopped in the tri-city area for gas, forgetting he’d have to get out and pump his own until the minivan behind him honked. “Sorry,” he said weakly. “I’m from Oregon. I forgot.”
He pondered Oregon’s gas station laws until he got to Hermiston, and then he switched to deep thoughts about watermelons. Through Boardman, Arlington, and Rufus, he counted windmills on the left and lit barges on the right. As he sped through the more familiar curves between The Dalles and Hood River, the moonlit waters of the Columbia lapped at the edges of his mind as if to say, “It’s time to think about her now. It’s time to think about what you’ve done.”
Crawford pulled to the side of the road at Cascade Locks and stared at the Bridge of the Gods that led across the river to the Washington side. To Skamania Lodge. To the place he’d fallen in love—real love—for the first time in his life.
It had to be love to hurt this much, didn’t it?
His own words seared a headache firmly behind his eyes. I’m trying to be smart enough for you, Maris. To be good enough. But I’m just a stupid model. A boy toy. A bag of muscles. I could never be enough for a perfect person like you. I’ve never tried so hard and gotten so little in return.
All of it was true except the last part. She’d given him everything. Maris taught him what love looked like, and felt like, and acted like. Love between a man and a woman, and a glimmer of what it meant to love yourself.
He got out of the car and stood in the darkness as a light rain began to fall. Numb to the cold, he stared at the river, seeing the moment he’d signed their names to the auction bid. How could he have known that the cheap night he had dreamed of would pale in comparison to the reality of the dream they’d shared?
“I should have said I love you.” He ground his teeth and slumped onto the hood of his car. “The one time I meant it, and I couldn’t say it.”
Maris groaned and set aside the tub of Tillamook ice cream to answer the incessant knocking at the door.
Adi and her husband Hershel stood on her tiny porch, dripping wet from the autumn shower. “Girl, why didn’t you tell me you owned 25% of Conway Comm stock?” Adi pushed her way into the living room, and Hershel followed with an apologetic shrug, his features only distinguishable once he entered the light.
“Huh?” Maris shuffled back to the coffee table and retrieved her ice cream.
“Nuh-uh. Put that away. Or better yet, give it to Hershel.” Adi handed off the tub, complete with spoon, to her husband. “Go help yourself, and we’ll call you when we need the legal bit.”
He obliged, and in a few quick steps, disappeared behind the counter to rummage for bowls in the cupboards.
“Adi, it’s almost eleven.”
“Maris.” Adi waved both hands in front of Maris’ face. “Are you hearing me? You’re worth how many millions?”
“What? No, only if I liquidate. Mom willed all her shares to me.” She narrowed her eyes and dropped heavily back into her recliner. “How’d you find out about my share of the stocks, and why are we talking about it now?”
“I run cost analyses for all the projects. I have access codes to stuff. Fifty-thousand shares, right?” Adi was still invading Maris’ space.
“Um. Something like that.” Maris yawned. “Get to the point. I’m trying to fill the hole in my heart with chocolate peanut butter ice cream.”
“How you stay under 120 pounds is a flabbergasting mystery to me.” Her sharp focus returned. “The Hornet Queen was buzzing furiously with one of my subordinates in accounting right at closing today. She cannot stand that the company is one-quarter owned by someone who wants to spread the wealth around town instead of lining her vaults with the stu
ff.”
“Big surprise there.” Maris engaged the footrest. “Can we not talk about Claudia when I’ve just overeaten? I want to drown my sorrows. Not puke them out.”
Adi sat on the couch at Maris’ elbow and leaned in conspiratorially. “My sweet Hershel Dar, Attorney at Law, has a few suggestions for you. Especially in light of the spat Claudia and Rickert had today in the hall. Seems she can’t keep her eyes and hands off of anyone in boxers or whitie-tighties.”
“Wait, what?” Maris’ eyes widened. “There’s trouble in paradise?”
Adi shrugged. “Let’s just say that I suspect Claudia has probably been demoted back down to business partner without any extra executive duties, if you know what I mean.”
Hope uncurled itself from the corner of her heart and looked up with interest. “Really?”
“And that might put your father into a different mood for negotiations.” Adi nodded with a wicked grin.
Maris rubbed her palms together. “Negotiations?”
“I’ll do the case pro-bono,” chimed Hershel with a nibble on the tip of his tongue. He waddled back in with two bowls full of ice cream. “Because it’s time that Claudia woman respected your mother’s vision—may she rest in peace—your mother, I mean, not Claudia.”
Maris narrowed her eyes. “I’m listening.”
“Once upon a time, there was a beautiful young maiden,” said Adi. “She wanted to run a homeless shelter, but all she had were a few million bucks …”
Maris pursed her lips and tried to follow the legalese that Hershel pronounced. Every few minutes, she grunted affirmatively, feeling another level of empowerment coming on.
“Crawdaddy, my man!” Bran’s cheer cranked up to a higher decibel than usual. “That little lady of yours at KGW did you right!”
“Huh?” Crawford repositioned his phone and continued sorting his laundry.
“Pistol Briefs!”
Crawford frowned at the item of clothing in his hand. “Um, yeah? How’d you know?”
“Pistol Briefs wants you for three national TV commercials!”
