by Meghan Quinn
“I can’t believe it’s almost here. It was like yesterday you were throwing fruit at Racer to get his attention.”
I give Madison a look. “You were the one throwing the fruit, not me.”
“Eh, you see it one way, I see it the other.”
“Your way is false.” I place the last necklace on display and then stand away, stretching my arms behind my back and moving my neck from side to side. I went with simple, vintage-styled jewelry trees to display my stock. At first I wasn’t too sure about it, but now that I see it all together, I know it was the right choice. It looks so pretty and everything is accessible.
“Looks good.” Madison stands next to me, taking in my display. “I’m proud of you, G. You really made it happen.”
“You helped me, Madison. Without you pushing me and getting Racer to jump on board I never would have done this. So thank you.”
“Aw, I love you.” Madison wraps her arms around me and squeezes me tight. “Just remember I require an hour-long lunch break.” She winks when she pulls away. Yeah, she won’t be getting an hour for lunch. Not going to happen.
We bag up the plastic trash on the floor and clean up. Once I add price tags we will be all set. That will be tomorrow’s hell. Inventory. But even though it will be hell, it’s the good kind of hell that I can’t wait for.
“Where is Racer? I haven’t seen him since he wore that cut-off shirt where the sleeve holes extended down to his ribcage. God, that was a hot shirt.”
It really, really was.
“Uh, he has some kind of work thing in Syracuse. He’s been staying up there. Thankfully he was called up there after all the construction was finished.”
“Have you spoken to him?”
I shake my head. “Not really. We are kind of on opposite schedules right now. I’ve sent him a few texts but haven’t really heard back from him. I don’t want to disturb him.”
“That’s weird. He can’t respond at night?”
“Madison”—I give her a look—“you know how important work is to him. I’m sure he has a good reason. I’m not worried.”
She huffs out her displeasure. “Is he at least going to be here for the grand opening?”
I pause, not really sure. I guess I always assumed he would be. “Huh, I really don’t know. I never thought of him not being here.” The thought of him not holding my hand when I open the doors of Limerence to the public breaks my heart. He would know that, so he will be here. We built this place together. I can’t wait to see his face when he sees it filled with stock. It’s perfect.
“Well, you better get in touch with him. He has to be here, if anything to accept all the compliments people are going to be handing out when they see this place.”
“Yeah . . . I’ll call him tonight.” In the back of my head, I hope he answers this time. I didn’t want to make a big deal about it to Madison, but I’ve been concerned that I haven’t heard from him. With both of us consumed by work, we haven’t been able to catch-up. What kind of person does that make me?
Crap, now I feel really bad.
Madison points her finger at me and says, “You better.” Walking backward to the private office, she asks, “Can I get you a drink?”
“Yeah, Diet Coke with Lime.”
“Shock alert.” Madison rolls her eyes and takes off. When she’s out of sight, I quickly grab my phone and send a text to Racer. My nerves are getting the better of me, and I type out a desperate text.
Georgiana: Hey, are we okay? I haven’t heard from you in a bit and with the shop consuming me, I’m getting nervous that we haven’t talked in a few days. Can you call me tonight? I don’t care what time it is. I miss you.
The front door opens and Emma and Adalyn walk in. Their initial reaction to the shop is complete awe. They are the only ones allowed in early because they’re friends obviously. The rest of the shop is closed to the public, even the window displays, hence the GRAND opening.
“Georgiana, it’s beautiful in here.” Emma spins around, taking everything in. “Wow, you’ve really turned this place into a fairy tale.”
“It’s gorgeous.” Adalyn takes it all in as well and starts reading my beautiful words I’ve painted on wood planks and hung around the shop. “Coruscate: to sparkle.” That one is hung by the jewelry. “Tarantism: the uncontrollable need to dance.” Above the shoes. “Serendipity: a fortunate happenstance.” Above the cashier desk. “Felicity: a sense of happiness.” In bold by the dresses . . . where else? “I love this so much.”
“Thank you. You don’t think it’s too much?”
“Not at all.” Emma shakes her head, still looking around.
“This entire shop deserves to be in a magazine. You and Racer did an amazing job.”
“Thank you.”
Madison pops back into the main space and squeals when she sees Emma and Adalyn. “Our first customers.” She hands me my Coke before clapping her hands in excitement.
“Not customers, just here to see if you need any help.”
“I think we’re good,” I say, looking around. “Tomorrow we’re taking care of inventory so we might call it an early day today. We finished faster than I expected.”
“It’s because we don’t jack around. We’re efficient.”
“You really are,” Emma says before turning to me. She looks nervous to ask me something. I wonder if she wants to try a dress on.
“What’s on your mind?” I ask, hopefully making it easier on you.
She glances at Adalyn and clutches her purse close on her shoulder. “I know we’re not supposed to ask you this, but I can’t help it. I need to know. How’s Racer?”
Nervous sweat starts to creep up my back. Why is she not supposed to ask me this? “Uh, he’s doing fine. Still up in Syracuse. I hope to talk to him tonight.”
“What do you mean still up in Syracuse?”
“For work . . .” The girls share a look. “He’s been there for a few days. I haven’t seen him.”
“Uh, Emma, crap we forgot about that nail appointment we have. We’re going to be late if we don’t leave right now.”
“What nail appointment—?”
Adalyn whacks her with her purse and stares her down. “The one I scheduled two seconds ago when you got a clue.”
Okay, something is going on and it looks like I have two people in the know to give me all the details.
“What’s going on?”
“It’s really not our place. I never should have brought it up.” Emma looks really apologetic but that’s not going to stop me from probing her.
“Emma, tell me.”
“Yeah, tell her or else she will tear your wedding dress on your wedding day.” Madison crosses her arms over her chest as if she’s in the mafia, making death threats.
“I won’t,” I say, “but please just tell me. You’re worrying me. Is he hurt?”
Emma bites her bottom lip and turns to Adalyn who throws her arms up in defeat. “Just tell her. She’s bound to find out somehow. I was hoping it wasn’t us, but look how great that went.”
Emma lets out a long breath. “Racer was fired from his job.”
“What?” I shout, my eyes wide, worry immediately enveloping me. Dread fills my entire body. No, this has to be a sick joke. My throat starts to seize on me. “He was fired? Why?” Please don’t let it be connected to me. Please . . .
“Um . . .” Emma pauses as she wrings her hands together.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake.” Adalyn steps in. “He got into a fight with your dad here the other night. Your dad went to Julius and told him to can Racer or else he would be taking his business elsewhere.”
“My dad was here? What?” I’m going to be sick.
Adalyn nods. “Racer said you were out getting food when your dad stopped by. I guess your dad wanted to shut you down, but Racer told him off and said to not fuck with you or he would make him pay. It was knight-in-shining-armor type stuff. But he kind of forgot who your dad was, and because of that, he was
fired.” Oh God. I am going to be sick.
“Oh my God. Why didn’t he tell me?”
“The shop.” Emma steps in. “With its opening in a few days, he didn’t want to distract you.”
Adalyn smacks Emma in the arm. “Yeah, glad we were able to see through his plan. God, Emma.”
“I’m sorry. None of us have heard from him. I had to know if he was okay.”
I can’t even focus on their bickering. I can only think about Racer and what he must be feeling, what kind of pain and heartache he’s going through. And he’s going through it alone. He once again stuck up for me, defended me against my dad, a horrible man, and then took the brunt of it all. For me.
I need to get to him.
Without even thinking, I grab my purse and bolt out of the shop, hoping Madison remembers to lock up. The drive to his house is treacherous. I can’t go fast enough without being sent to jail. And of course, I keep hitting every red light there is from Limerence to Racer’s.
When I finally arrive, I slam on the brakes from the sight in front of me. I’ve never experienced such heartbreak as I’m experiencing at this very moment.
This can’t be real.
Plain as day, there it is. A For Sale sign.
“No,” I whisper as my heart shatters into a million pieces. “This is all my fault.”
As I pull into the driveway, Racer comes out of his house wearing khaki pants, a button-up shirt, and his hair combed to the side. He looks professional, ready to look for a job.
Crap.
I put the car in park and hop out quickly. Racer doesn’t even look in my direction as I approach him. Once again, I feel like we’ve come full circle, him getting in his car ready to leave, and me pleading for him to stay.
“Racer, why didn’t you tell me?”
Gripping the steering wheel, he asks, “Who told you?”
“It doesn’t matter. What matters is why didn’t you tell me?”
He shakes his head, defeat heavy in his broad shoulders. “You didn’t need to know. You have bigger things to think about right now. Get back to the shop, Georgiana.”
Georgiana.
He uses my full name in two ways: when he wants to get a serious point across, or he’s lost in sweet bliss. There is nothing blissful about this situation.
He goes to shut the door to his truck when I stop him. “You’re important to me, Racer. I want to make this better.”
“This isn’t your battle.”
“To hell it isn’t. My dad did this to you, so that makes this my battle. Now stop pushing me away and let me help.”
Looking up at me for a second, I notice the dark circles under his eyes, the worry in his features, the utter devastation in his beautiful, non-existent smile. “There is nothing that can be done. So drop it.” He starts his truck and pulls on the door but I resist.
“What about the house?”
“I can’t afford it. I have to move on . . .”
Two words no one ever wants to hear. Two words that bring tears to my eyes and break my heart even more.
Because I get the distinct feeling that when he says moving on like that, it’s not just the house.
“Move on from what? Move on from us?” My words are barely audible.
He lets out a long breath and leans his head against the seat. “Georgie, your dad tore my life apart. He has made it impossible, and I’m not being dramatic, but fucking impossible for me to get a job in any field relating to construction within one hundred miles. I can’t even score an opportunity with a fucking paint store. He’s put a black mark on my name, and it’s fucking me over. I’m already drowning in debt, and without a job I can’t keep up. Do you really think if we stay together he’s going to relent? It’s pointless. From the beginning I knew we were worlds apart.” He runs his hands over his face and turns toward me. He cups my cheek and brushes his thumb over a tear rolling down my cheek. “Fuck . . .” He takes a deep breath. “I love you, Princess”—my heart catches in my chest—“but it’s never going to work. If I have to give you up to make sure you’re successful, to make sure your every dream for Limerence come true, I will. He can’t hurt you that way. He can only hurt me.”
“He’s destroying me,” I say as a sob escapes me. “He’s hurting me by taking you away. Don’t leave, Racer. Don’t let him drive a wedge between us. We can make it through this.”
His thumbs continue to caress my cheeks so I grip his hands and hold on to them tightly. Tears stream down my face. He leans forward and places a soft kiss on my lips. When he pulls away, he tugs my heart out of my chest with him.
“We can’t.” He answers with such certainty. I know he won’t back down. For me. He’s letting my dad win. For me. “I’m going to Pittsburgh for a few days. Tucker knows some guys down there who might be able to get me a job.”
“Pittsburgh?” More tears fall. “You can’t move, Racer.” His name comes out as a choked sob. “What about us, what about the grand opening? You’re going to miss it. I want you there, I need you there.”
He grips my face tighter and tries to smile, but it’s lackluster, missing his contagious spark. He looks so . . . broken. This man should never, ever look broken. He’s my hero. My beautiful, talented Racer. “You don’t need me, Princess. You’ve done everything to get you where you are today.” He’s wrong. He’s so, so wrong.
“Don’t do this. Don’t leave.”
He puts more distance between us, his hands leaving my face. Gently, he pushes me back so he can shut his truck door. When he rolls down the window he pinches my chin in his loving way. “You’ll do great, Georgiana. Have faith in everything you created.” He pauses and takes a deep breath. “I love you.”
With my heart shattered into pieces in his driveway, Racer takes off, leaving a trail of heartbreak in his wake.
“I love you, too,” I whisper, watching through blurry eyes as his truck get smaller and smaller in the distance.
From the beginning I knew we were worlds apart . . .
From the very beginning . . . I’ve never seen it that way. I’ve seen Racer as my equal counterpoint, as someone to push me, make me believe in myself, and help me learn how to trust my own decisions.
How can he drive off and let my dad win?
Because he doesn’t believe there is another way.
Why is he not fighting?
Because he’s been fighting ever since his dad died, and I’ve made it harder.
If he loves me, he should fight.
He loves me enough to let me go.
I sit down in his driveway and bring my knees close to my chest as I stare at the road, willing him to come back, willing him to change his mind.
But I know he won’t change his mind, because he is loyal, fierce, kindhearted, and magnificent. “Have faith in everything you created.” I do. I do because he helped me have that faith. I have faith in what we created together. Us. I want him by my side. I want him to have the same faith. I don’t know how I can physically change this situation, but I won’t lose faith. I refuse to lose him.
The sun begins to fall, the breeze begins to pick up, and Racer is nowhere in sight. He’s gone, maybe for good.
I wipe away the constant stream of tears and take a deep breath. He’s put everything on the line for me. It’s about time I do the same for him. At least stand up for the man I love.
***
“Where is he?”
“Georgiana, you startled me.” My mom stares at me as her hand is pressed against her chest.
“Where is he, Mom?”
“That is no way to greet your mother. Maybe if you calm down, we can—”
Losing patience, I slap the table my mom is working on and lean forward. “Where the fuck is Dad?” I don’t swear, and I surely don’t swear at my mom, but there is no stopping what will come out of my mouth right now.
She’s so stunned, she doesn’t answer me, she just stares at me, mouth agape, and a ridiculous look on her face.
“Useles
s.” I throw my arms up in annoyance and walk toward his study. I shouldn’t have bothered talking to her; there really is only one place he could be.
As I approach his grandiose office doors, I can hear him talking on his phone. Hopefully it’s no one important because my dad is about to get a very rude awakening.
I fling open the door to find my father with his legs kicked up on his desk, his phone in the crook of his neck, and a pen twirling in his hand.
“Wh—”
He can’t even get the words out before I reach over and press the hang-up button on his phone. I then tug the cord, causing the phone to slip from his grasp and I slam it on the console.
“What on earth—”
“You bastard.” I lean over his desk and stare directly in his eyes.
“Georgiana.”
“I suggest you save your breath, Donald.” I don’t even give him the dignity of calling him Dad. He doesn’t deserve the title. “It’s my turn to talk. I have spent my entire life appeasing the absurd requests you put on me as your daughter. I never got dirty. I sat prettily at parties and didn’t play like the boys. I went to college, got straight A’s, and I spent countless hours helping Mom with her charities. I’ve done everything you’ve asked me to do up until I decided I was ready to branch out; I was ready to truly make you proud.” Never losing eye contact, I continue, “You’re a businessman, and you’ve made a wonderful life for us by thriving in the business world. Why wouldn’t you want your children to follow in your footsteps? Why wouldn’t you want to brag about your children who are putting their careers on the line like you did so many years ago and trusting their instincts? You, out of anyone, should know the kind of courage it takes to start a business and grow it, so why would you admonish their plans to do the same?”
Removing his feet from his desk, he buttons up his jacket and places his hands on his desk. “I’m going to ignore your outlandishly rude behavior and try to speak to you as an adult.” He clears his throat, only making me want to punch him directly in the larynx. “This world is ruthless, and unfortunately, it’s run by men, men who will do anything to get to the top. As a father, I’ve wanted to shield my children from such men, especially my daughters. Because of your naiveté, you can’t comprehend the kind of private meetings I’ve had to sit through, the vile and disgusting things I’ve witnessed. Business has gotten me to where I am today but it’s not from outsmarting my opponent, it’s from keeping my head focused and making sure I have an iron-clad stomach.” He shifts his pen to the side and folds his hands together. “My sons have been ruthlessly prepared through their studies with me, they’ve been warned of inappropriate behavior and when it comes down to it, in the business world, they’re not going to be walked on like women. I’m sorry to say, but despite your courage, there are pathetic people out there who will do anything to get ahead of you, and I won’t apologize for not wanting that to happen to you. You’re my little girl. I will be damned if I allow for you to get tossed around.”
