by Jo Noelle
“I just thought you didn’t need any more bad news.”
Aiden had been right about that. What a tragedy. As her eyes scanned down the page, she saw the name—Cara Christiansen. “Is that Kade’s girlfriend?” she asked in a choked voice.
Aiden swallowed and nodded.
Kade had just been at her house a few days ago with Aiden and Eli for the barbecue, and now his life was destroyed. Her problems seemed smaller by comparison.
10
Chase Dermott
Channels flipped across the big screen while Chase leaned against the headboard, clicking through the menu—his mind elsewhere. Three days. Tug had suggested he give Elena some time. It had already been two, and he thought he would have heard from her by now. What could she have to say when he was the one who needed to apologize and ask for another chance?
He was hiding from her and the rest of the world. Elena wasn’t like the women who follow bands around. She was genuine and caring. And he’d hurt her.
The past couple days had forced him to figure out what he wanted. He wanted her. Even before he came to Peak City or met Elena, he had been thinking about leaving the band. During the last tour, he’d lost every reason to play and write songs. Now the passion was back—it felt right. He wasn’t giving up music or the band, but he knew that he couldn’t let the celebrity part smother him like a winter coat. He needed a place where he was grounded to clear his head. That’s why he’d bought this house. After whirlwind tours, he needed a place to come back to, but it wasn’t Peak City or any place. It was a person—Elena.
The pain had a jagged edge that shredded him over and over when he thought of how Elena shut the door between them. He couldn’t move, hearing her sob alone. He had leaned against the door and listened, wanting to hold her, but he’d caused every tear she had shed. Then he had sat in his car and thought his heart would stop beating.
Chase got up and set his mug in the kitchen sink. Beyond the window, mountain peaks cut a fine line against the blue sky. What am I waiting for? She doesn’t have to make a move—I do. He pulled on his shoes and drove to the pawn shop.
Tug’s pickup was parked near the back door, piled high with random junk. Chase wondered if it was new inventory or trash being hauled away. Elena’s car was on the other side. He parked beside it and walked to the back door, propped open with a thirty-pound dumbbell at the bottom. When he was near the threshold, Elena’s voice was clear.
“I’m going to get every last dime I need, and he’s going to be glad to give me the money. After all he’s put me through, I deserve it. I’m not losing my business and my life because he’s a jerk.” Her tone spit the words out with venom.
Chase couldn’t see who she was talking to, but he heard Tug’s voice next. “You want me to go with you? I could sit outside.”
He’d hoped that Elena’s anger would subside in the days that passed. He knew he’d hurt her, but hadn’t realized how deeply. Embarrassment and regret alternated through him as he thought about the scene at her house. Although it sounded like it was too late to make amends, he wanted to do something to make it up to her.
“No. He’d get suspicious, Tug. I’ll be fine. He’ll think he’s getting what he wants, and I’ll play him right to the end. He won’t even see it coming until I get all the money.”
Chase was stunned by her blunt words. He realized he was frozen in place and shook himself. He didn’t want to be standing there when she came out. He slid back into his car and left. The rush of pain hit him as he replayed her words in his mind.
He was back where he’d started when he moved here. His heart was a crushed stone in his chest. He never would have believed it or imagined it. It hadn’t seemed like Elena at all. Maybe he didn’t know her as well as he thought he did. Now what?
When he got home, he didn’t remember several of the turns. His mind was reeling. He sat on the couch. He got up and picked up a guitar. He put it back down and went out onto the deck. Nothing felt right.
It might be time to move back to Nashville, buy a home in a gated community, and give up on love. Had it been a mistake to move here? The town was great, but Elena . . . he couldn’t stay because of what happened between them. He shook his head in disappointment. There really wasn’t a place where he could escape who he was. He played music in front of thousands of people, and that isolated him from living a normal life.
Chase drove to Main & West Gallery. “Emil, I wondered if I can sell you back the paintings I bought.”
“Yes, though not at the price that you paid for them, unfortunately for you. I’ve got to make a profit.” His eyes squinted a little, and Chase wondered if he looked the mess he felt.
“Does your mom have you engaged yet? Or would she even let you know? Chase asked, trying to lighten the look on Emil’s face.
“Not yet. Why are you wanting to sell?” Emil asked.
“I thought I would like it here, but it’s not working out.”
“Oh. Yeah. I saw the thing with Elena. You don’t think you’ll get back together.” Before Chase could answer, if he was even going to, Emil added, “One bad thing happens, and you’re out? She might be worth it to stay. I hope you work it out, but yeah, I can resell those pieces.”
“Thanks.” Emil didn’t even know the worst part, and Chase didn’t know what to do to start working it out with her. If Elena came to get the money, he’d never see her the same again. He couldn’t stay. It was about time for the tour anyway. He’d just get out of town. “Are you going to play soccer with us tonight?” “Not tonight.” Chase left. When he sat in his car, his phone dinged with a couple of emails. It was his manager confirming tour information and her assistant sending him flight information to leave.
Chase didn’t leave his house much. If Elena was going to come over, he wanted to get it over with. He could understand her anger and wanting to get even. The clarity that he’d lied to Elena became sharper each day. He even had to admit to himself that there had been times he could have told her, should have told her, and chose not to. He liked the anonymity, and it had cost him.
Once he tried to blame her, but he couldn’t. After the second day of not seeing her, he realized that she might have changed her mind—cooled down. He was prepared for her to act on the threats he’d heard, but maybe she had just been blowing off steam and moved on. Either way, she didn’t come to see him to yell or to talk. She cut that tie.
A tour couldn’t have come at a better time. For the next few days, Chase threw himself into work, writing new songs about broken hearts, missed dreams, and being alone. Then he left town.
11
Elena Maurell
Elena had been sitting in the bank parking lot for fifteen minutes, wondering if she should’ve taken Tug up on the offer to come and wait for her in the car. He’d offered on Friday, and she thought she wouldn’t need him. Her plan had seemed so easy at the time. She’d been rehearsing what she’d do all weekend. I can do this. She took a deep breath and looked at the Peak City Bank. Nine-thirteen a.m. She set her phone to voice record and darkened the screen, then stuffed her purse under the seat, keeping the phone and loan denial letter in her hand. Thinking back, it should have tipped her off that it was handwritten.
Inside the lobby, she approached the receptionist. “Is Martin Jed available?”
She buzzed him on the phone, and he came out to greet her. “Welcome back. You look very nice today.”
The words felt greasy. She stiffened to try to contain a shiver, and she was glad when he turned around to lead her to his office.
She sat in the chair she had once before and laid her phone and keys on the edge of his desk. Then, holding the rejection letter between them, she asked, “Could you explain this to me?” When he reached for it, she pulled it back and read, “Your loan has been denied.” She looked up. “It doesn’t say why, and I’d like to know so my next loan application will be closer to what the bank requires.”
“As I said before, Miss Maurell, you loo
k especially beautiful today. If you’d like to come back, say at lunchtime, we could go to a restaurant and discuss the details.”
Recording a sort-of confession could take longer than she was hoping. “I don’t know if I’m able come back. Would it even be worth my time?”
Martin walked behind her and closed his office door. “I can guarantee that if we have lunch together, your loan application prospects will improve. It’s important for you to develop a cozy business relationship with your loan officer, since we’ll be in frequent contact over the years.”
It made her sick to think how many women he might have told that story to. “I think I need a few more details to help me decide.” Come on, Martin, unveil all your sleaze. “I need about ten thousand dollars. If I go out with you, will I get the money?”
He perched on the side of the desk, looming over her. “I guarantee it.” His smile was predatory. “Of course, the interest rate on that amount would be pretty high. I could get you a better rate, drop it a point if we—“ His eyebrows arched as he swallowed. He sat on the side of his desk and leaned one hand on it. “. . . talk about this all night.”
She stiffened internally, disgusted at the proposition. “Hmm. What would I need to do for you to get me two points off the interest rate?”
The man actually licked his lips at that. “Take a weekend trip with me.”
That should be enough despicable proof. Now she wanted some answers. She turned the paper to face him. “Is this what a normal loan rejection looks like? See how it’s handwritten. I expected something more impersonal.”
Martin left his perch and settled into his high-backed leather chair. “They usually are, but in your case, I made an exception.”
Elena forced herself to smile brightly and tip her head like she want to hear more when what she really wanted to do was poke him in the eye and kick him in the groin.
He continued, “I didn’t send your application to loan committee, so you didn’t receive a trackable denial. We’ll come back after lunch and fill out another loan application. I’ll tell you what to write. I’ll pretend it passes all our criteria, then I’ll have a check cut for you. If you want to get a little more money, I can arrange that, but it will take additional time and discussion between us.”
Elena wanted to barf, preferably on him. She swallowed hard. She had to see this through. When she had filled out the last application, she owned a business, the property, and had an income. Now all of that was in jeopardy because of this game he was playing.
Elena folded the letter and put it back in the envelope. “I won’t be meeting you for lunch today, or any other day.” Martin got a look on his face like he thought she might not mean it, so she continued, “I have an appointment and will be filling out an application with a different loan officer.” Elena brightened the screen on her phone. “. . . in ten minutes. And this might be of interest to you.” She pushed the icon that started the playback on the voice recorder, then opened the door of his office. When his face showed recognition that he had been recorded and what that meant for him, she walked out and slammed the door.
Before she left the bank she filled out a new loan application and got information for how to file a grievance over Martin’s behavior. As she drove back to the pawn shop, she felt triumphant and sad. At least she had a real application in this time.
Elena sat in her office chair with her feet tucked under her. An envelope sat on her desk. She’d opened it a few minutes ago, then tossed it onto the desk like it was a poisonous snake. There was no letter with it, only a cashier’s check for a little over ten thousand dollars made out to the county with a memo at the bottom with the property’s tax ID number for Treasure Mountain Pawn.
The only person who would know how much she needed this was the person who bought the store for taxes and Tug. There was no way she planned to spend his retirement. But how could she give it back without hurting him? She picked up the check and examined it again. It was the exact amount needed to save her dad’s dream—temporarily. She was half relieved and half brokenhearted. It didn’t feel right to save herself and take down Tug. Too many conflicting thoughts crowded her brain. She would decide about this later, and she put the check back in the vault in the office.
She’d have to hurry to get to the funeral for Kade’s girlfriend. Kade wasn’t a close friend of hers, but he’d come with Eli and Aiden sometimes. He’d brought Cara to the Valentine’s party they had a few months ago. It chilled Elena to realized that Cara had died. She was young and beautiful. It was hard to understand.
Elena sat in the church and listened to the family talk about what a vivacious woman Cara had been. Cara’s father talked about how Eli was the love of Cara’s life, and she took that love with her.
A jolt ran though Elena. Cara had died five days ago. She probably had plans to do something else today. This wasn’t even a possibility in her mind back then. What if? She thought she had a whole lifetime ahead of her, but maybe not. It made her think about her break up with Chase. She was hurt and betrayed. He might have some reason for what he did, but she wouldn’t listen. Had she thrown away her happily ever after on pride? She had made choices thinking there were decades of life ahead of her. Would she make a different choice if she knew she only had months or weeks? Maybe it was too late. Chase was gone.
The next day, Elena and Tug held the first day of their sidewalk sale. They marked everything down to garage sale prices. Something was better than nothing. Over the week, they made more money than they had in the past month. If she lost the store after all, there would be less to move. She was hoping to prove to herself that if she spent Tug’s money, she’d be able to pay it back. It didn’t look that way.
Chase had been gone for a week, and Elena sat at her computer and clicked into the Ash Canyon website, where she followed Chase’s tour. It was brutal. He had concerts every day in different cities. At least this tour was short compared to the others posted. He’d be finished in another week. Elena wondered if he was coming back to Peak City afterward.
Chase had texted her every day, though she hadn’t replied yet. The little monkey in her brain was usually quiet—until it saw a fan picture of him posted after a concert. Then Monkey alternated between desire and sulking.
Today, a video was posted of a solo Chase did last night. He was sitting center stage with an acoustic guitar, looking much the same as he had the first night she’d seen him play in that bar. The lights were dim in blue and green, brightening the blond hair around his face. The song was like nothing his band usually played, yet it was completely Chase. It sounded like the song he played on their date, except he’d added a sad, discordant sound at the end. The final sweep faded out, and Chase uttered one word into the microphone. “Elena.”
The monkey couldn’t take it, and it and Elena cried themselves to sleep.
The next morning, Elena met Sienna for coffee. The line was long and moved slowly along side where the barista was making the orders.
“I don’t know what to do. I miss him so much.”
“Call him,” the barista said as she grabbed two cups from the shelf.
Sienna shot her a frustrated look, which she didn’t see because she just kept working. “No. Don’t you dare call him. You did the right thing cutting him off. He lied to you.”
“He didn’t actually lie,” Elena defended. “He just omitted some critical information.”
The barista sent Elena a sympathetic smile, then noticed she hadn’t moved the steamed milk to make the design. “Oh, I don’t usually do that so badly, let me try again.”
The line moved again and the barista moved up the counter with them.
“He sends me a text every couple of days. I know he’s sorry. He just wants to explain. Is it bad that I want to hear it?”
“Not at all. Send him a text back, but keep it short,” the barista said from behind the stacks of cups.
Sienna turned to the barista. “Are you giving advice or making coffee?”
“Both. I’m multi-talented.”
Sienna pinned Elena a look as they stepped up to order. “Do not text him. He needs to sweat for a while. He needs to know this was serious, and you’re not going to take crap from him.”
When their order was ready, Sienna’s mug had a beautiful leaf design on top and Elena’s had two connected hearts. As the barista pushed it toward her, she said, “You do what your hearts need. That’s when it’s right.”
Her words stayed with Elena. She hadn’t said “what her heart” needed—she’d said “what your hearts need” instead. Elena thought their hearts were connected. She needed to figure what was right for them together.
When she got back to work, the check for ten thousand was still in the vault. Now and again, Elena wondered where it had come from? Tug hadn’t said anything or even asked about it. Since it was a cashier’s check, there was no name and no return address.
Dear Ms. Maurell,
I have never been treated so rudely in my life. Well, you are your father’s daughter. Just to let you know, I own Treasure Mountain Pawn and the lease you now have. After your rude behavior, I’ve decided not to renew the lease. You’ll need to vacate and box up the junk you call inventory and move it with you.
Mitzi Perez
Elena threw the letter in the trash. She pushed her fingers across her forehead. She could really use someone telling her what to do.
The calendar in her office had three dates circled. She flipped the months back and forth. The first was in a few days, the day Chase might be back in town. The next was the deadline to accept or reject the offer made on the back lot, but since she didn’t own the store, she couldn’t sell it without buying it back first. That was doable, but at a great cost to Tug and no guarantee that it wouldn’t be lost later. The money from the sale of the lot didn’t fix the bigger problem of no income. The last was the final day of her lease for Treasure Mountain Pawn. There was an acute sense of loss twisted with that date. There was a stab of guilt, knowing that she was losing it all. With a dull ache, she pinned the calendar back to the wall and slumped into her seat.
