The Set Up

by Kim Karr

  What the fuck is wrong with me?

  Why don’t I just leave?

  Because I can’t.

  That’s why.

  I can’t leave her out here alone—it isn’t safe.

  And she hates to be alone.

  No, she hated to be alone.

  A long time ago she was a neglected child. I don’t know shit about her now.

  Finally, the truck arrives, and as soon as the car is loaded and she’s in the passenger seat of the rig, it takes off.

  I don’t look at her.

  Not as the truck turns around, not as it hops on the interstate and heads south, and not as the taillights fade in the distance.

  I consider going after her.

  I don’t.

  When the truck is out of sight, I’m left alone.

  I feel strange.

  I can’t move.

  I feel numb.

  I feel weird.

  I feel like I wish I could redo that encounter, maybe in a different way.

  A nicer way.

  But there is no other way.

  My hand hovers over the key, but I can’t start my car. I wait and wait and wait. I have to go in the same direction and I don’t want to come close to her. Charlie is dead to me. She’s been dead to me for twenty years. I never want to see her again.

  But even as I think it, I know it’s a lie.

  Yes, Charlie might be dead to me, but she has blossomed into a beautiful woman who couldn’t be more alive.

  And her name is Charlotte.

  ROAD BLOCK

  Charlotte

  TAKING OFF WITHOUT doing what I came here to do isn’t an option.

  My paycheck depends on it. I tried to argue with my boss not to send me out in the field on this assignment, but he wouldn’t listen. He told me he needed help and also promised me a future promotion if I did well.

  Hopeful, I gave in. I never really had a choice. That was clear from our conversation, even if he did sugarcoat it. “Do what I tell you or leave now” is really what he meant.

  So here I am.

  And now Jasper knows I’m in Detroit.

  And it went just the way I always knew it would.

  You see, I know much more about his life than he knows about mine. I’ve thought about him for years. Devoured every word on social media ever written about him. Yearned to reach out to him. Yet, somehow I knew he wouldn’t be receptive. My side of the story wouldn’t matter because in the end, everything that happened to him happened because of what happened here—at Laneworth Automotive Parts Plant.

  I look around.

  People are everywhere.

  The desolate acres of land are no longer the ghost town they had been earlier when I arrived. Thumbing through the photos I took less than an hour ago, I study them. Odd. I can’t ever remember coming here when I was little. Even staring at the rubble of the office building doesn’t help. Nothing stirs a memory. It bothers me. I want to remember it; I just can’t. I keep looking. Hopefully the pictures will be useful in my next steps.

  “Excuse me, miss, but I need to set this table up.”

  “Oh, sorry,” I say and move out of the way.

  Forced to give up my quest, I look around again. It looks so different. Someone worked his or her magic very quickly. I’m now standing near at least a dozen tables dressed in red, white, and blue. There are tents, banners, taped-off areas, and even a small stage where the red Storm prototype sits. The place has become a madhouse. Hundreds of bodies are moving from one place to another. People are mingling. Smiling. There’s an element of hope in the air. Everyone seems genuinely happy.

  God, I hope Jasper doesn’t tell anyone who I am.

  “There you are,” Cole says.

  Straightening my shoulders, I plaster a smile on my face and turn around. “Yes. Here I am.”

  “I was beginning to worry you weren’t coming.”

  I quickly slide my camera in my bag and set it out of sight. “I’ve been here for a while. I looked for you but didn’t see you.”

  “Oh, you weren’t here when I arrived, so I took off for a bit to grab some coffee.”

  “Sorry. I had car trouble.”

  “Well, that sucks. Everything okay now?”

  Cole Reynolds is not a man who cares to hear about personal problems. “Nothing I can’t handle.”

  “Cool,” he says. “Where’s Eve?”

  Cole Reynolds is Eve’s boss. As the senior blogger at The Detroit Scene, he is someone you want to be connected to. Too bad Eve took that literally and slept with him to get her job as junior blogger. Unfortunately for me, he’s also my very married boss. And I, on the other hand, did not sleep with him to get my job. I also, on the other hand, do not have my own column. I’m his assistant.

  “Well?” he asks.

  Nothing like being put in an awkward situation because your roommate never came back to the room last night when you know your boss planned for you to stay there so he could be with her tonight. I find his narrowed eyes. “I’m not sure.”

  Cole continues to look at me sharply.

  Unfortunately for me, I’m a bad liar and by process of elimination if she wasn’t with him, she had to be with someone from the party she went to last night. “Really, Cole, I have no idea where she is.”

  A quick glance at his watch tells me he’s not happy. “She’s late.”

  “I could call her.”

  “I already did. She’s not answering her phone.”

  My anxiety is high enough without the worry of covering up for Eve’s indiscretions. “I left early and when I got back there was no sign she had returned yet,” I confess.

  There, I said it.

  “Yet?”

  “Ummm . . . yes. She went to a party late last night for the Storm and never came back.”

  “I know she went to the party. I also know she left. I ran into her in the hotel lobby and it was pretty late.”

  “You were here? I thought you were taking your family to the lake.”

  “I did,” he snaps. “I left last night instead of this morning, not that it’s any of your business.”

  “Maybe she went back to the party?” I suggest.

  Cole’s tone is quiet, surprisingly calm, but his words are not. “Nice to know where her priorities lie.”

  “I’m sure she’ll be here soon.”

  Agitation is written all over his face. “Did you check my emails? Any information I might be able to use today?”

  “I checked early this morning. Nothing other than a few messages marked ‘personal’ that of course I didn’t open.”

  From Eve, I neglect to add.

  He nods and then focuses his attention elsewhere. “That’s Jasper Storm over there, isn’t it?” He points toward a group of men standing around the black car Jasper was driving this morning.

  My heart stops at the sight of him leaning against his car with his arms crossed. Even at a distance, I can’t stop my body from shuddering. Hair the color of milk chocolate lightened by the sun spikes forward over his forehead and feathers against his cheeks in front of his ears. Short and wispy in the back, it sticks up everywhere. He’s wearing similar clothing to what he was wearing last night. The same clothes he was also wearing early this morning when I saw him on the road. Only these pieces aren’t wrinkled or dirty. Pressed crisp white shirt, unbuttoned at the top, paired with perfectly seamed black slacks, and a different pair of shoes. Older, I think. In the sunlight, I can see the impressive muscle tone of his arms and chest. The mouthwatering leanness of his waist. His face is tan. He must spend a great deal of time outdoors. His sunglasses are in place, hiding those light brown eyes that glimmer with specks of gold in the sun.

  “Charlotte, I asked you a question.”

  I bite my lip. “Yes . . . I think that’s him.”

  “Do you know if Eve introduced herself to him at the press conference?”

  She kind of did. I guess. But it wasn’t in a positive manner. “I’m not sure.
”

  “She didn’t mention anything about the sponsorship to him after the Q&A?”

  Sponsorship?

  “What sponsorship?”

  He sighs. “Between Lightning Motors and the Detroit Scene.”

  I wasn’t aware of it and clearly neither was Eve, or she wouldn’t have been writing negative posts that obviously Cole would never approve. “I’m not sure she knew about it. I wasn’t aware of it either.”

  Clearly frustrated, he shakes his head. “I thought I told you to tell her. The deal was signed yesterday with his associate.”

  Cole spent the afternoon arguing on the phone with his wife, so it’s no surprised it slipped his mind. “No, Cole, I’m sorry, but you never mentioned it.”

  “It doesn’t matter. Come on. Let’s see if we can take a few photos before the event begins.”

  How do I tell him it’s not a good idea that I join him? I can’t. But God, what if Jasper tells us to leave? Cole will go through the roof if he loses this sponsorship.

  Shoving his top-of-the-line Nikon in my hands, he leads the way. I have my own camera, but he prefers me to use his. Better pictures, or so he says.

  I slip the strap around my neck and I can feel my hands shake, but still, I follow. I don’t have a choice.

  Cole makes his way through the crowd and walks right up to the group of men we spotted from the distance. “Jasper, hi, I’m Cole Reynolds from The Detroit Scene.”

  Standing somewhat behind Cole, I feel safe. Out of sight. Unnoticeable. Or so I hope.

  Jasper says nothing.

  The man standing to Jasper’s right quickly steps forward. “Hi, I’m Will Fleming. I’m the one who contacted you.”

  Through Facebook and Twitter, I know that Will is Jasper’s best friend and has been for many years. They’re around the same age and I think I read that they grew up together. Both men have similar body frames, but Will is not quite as tall as Jasper. He also seems calmer, softer. It’s a strange way to describe a man and I’m not sure why I think that. Maybe it’s because of his features, or maybe it’s his simpler hairstyle or the softer tone of his voice.

  Will quickly takes the lead. “Jasper, this is the man I told you about. The one who is going to help us solicit investors for the funding of the factory by letting the world know how spectacular the Storm is.”

  Jasper pushes off the car and whips his sunglasses off. The scruff he had on his face this morning is gone, leaving behind smooth-looking skin. He extends his hand. “Jasper Storm.”

  Cole takes his hand. “Nice to meet you.”

  Oddly enough, Cole seems nervous. This must be a big account for him. Suddenly, I’m perspiring and my nerves are frayed to the ends.

  Abruptly, Cole moves and practically shoves me forward. “This is my assistant, Charlotte. If you need anything, anything at all, feel free to contact her anytime.”

  This isn’t happening.

  Jasper’s face is so close to mine I can barely breathe.

  I’m a quivering mess. I squeeze my eyes shut and wait for the outburst that will most definitely get me fired. I spent years wanting to be out on my own and now that I am, I’m going to fall flat on my face only two months after landing in a workplace that could have led to my dream job.

  When nothing is said, I open my eyes to find his golden glimmering ones.

  We stare at each other, me struggling to hold it together, him, I don’t know what, until he finally lets go of my gaze so his can travel down my body.

  Like him, I’ve also changed since I’d seen him earlier.

  The sun is overhead and it’s hot. I’m thankful for my choices. I’m wearing black wide-leg pants and a sleeveless white silk top. I even dared to wear sandals, hoping that the mud would have dried up, which thank God it has. Wanting to help make certain no one recognizes me, I had blown my hair straight and then pulled it back in a ponytail. My massive curls are gone—for now.

  A series of emotions seems to cross over his features, and then he does the most unexpected thing. “Charlotte, I’m Jasper. Nice to meet you.”

  Now trembling from head to toe, I take the hand he holds out. His fingers are callused and rough as they curl around mine, and for a moment I imagine it must be from working under the hood of his car. Out of nowhere, I wonder how they’d feel against my skin and the thought makes my body tingle. “Nice to meet you, too,” I somehow manage.

  Why didn’t he call me out?

  A body steps forward, and I suddenly notice Jasper and I are still gripping each other’s hands. The grasp is only slightly longer than would be considered socially acceptable, so no one notices, no one except Will, who steps closer.

  “Charlotte, I’m Will Fleming. I’ll be the contact for Jasper.”

  “That won’t be necessary, Will. I got this gig,” Jasper says.

  Will laughs and glances between Cole and myself. “Sorry. Jasper doesn’t normally deal with the press.”

  Jasper laughs it off too. “I know, but it’s not every day we agree to pay someone ten thousand a month for the next year.”

  Oh. My. God! That is by far the biggest account The Detroit Scene has ever landed.

  “That’s true,” Will says. “Anyway, you can actually contact any of us.” He draws a circle with his arm. “And these two guys are our other two partners, Drew . . .” He points to a man who must be six foot five and is built like a linebacker.

  Drew steps forward with his hand outstretched. “Drew Kates, and I’ll be handling parts procurement.”

  “And this is Jake,” Will says, pointing to him.

  Jake steps forward. He is the shortest, but if the word is appropriate for men, the prettiest. “Jake Crown, and I’ll be responsible for signing those investors I hope you’ll be drumming up by the dozens.”

  Cole laughs and wipes the sweat from his brow. “That’s the plan.” He glances at me. “Isn’t that right, Charlotte?”

  “Yes, it is.”

  “So tell me about the Storm,” Cole says, seeming calmer now.

  As the men start to talk about the Storm—how fast it can go, what horsepower it has, how many cylinders it is—I steal a glance at Jasper. When I do, I see his gaze is still on me.

  Drawing in a breath, I close my eyes and keep as still as I can with my heart pounding so fast it makes me see stars behind my eyelids.

  “I was hoping to capture a few shots of you and the Storm,” Cole says to Jasper, “before the groundbreaking ceremony.”

  The sound of Cole’s voice forces me to open my eyes.

  Jasper nods in approval. “Sure, why not.”

  “Charlotte,” Cole snaps, his hand outreached.

  “Sorry?” I apologize, not having a clue what he wants.

  “My camera!”

  “Sorry,” I repeat and attempt to untangle it from around my neck.

  He snaps his fingers again.

  That only makes me more nervous, but finally I’m able to transfer it into his hands.

  I look like a bumbling idiot, when I’m normally very competent at my job.

  “Do you have your tablet?”

  “It’s in my bag.”

  “Good. I’ll ask Jasper a few questions on the way, so jot everything down.”

  “Yes, of course.”

  When I go to reach for my bag, I realize I don’t have it. I left it over near the tables of food. Cole notices its absence right away and glares at me.

  My teeth snag my lower lip and suck it in. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t bring my bag over here. I’ll be right back.”

  My boss shakes his head impatiently. “It’s fine. It’s fine. We’ll start without you.”

  While he and Jasper head toward the stage, I allow my body to sag in relief. I’m not sure what just happened, but I’m thankful for it nonetheless.

  “I don’t know what you’re up to, but I don’t trust you.”

  My head snaps to see Jake walking beside me.

  “Jake,” I say a little startled, “I’m not up to anyt
hing.”

  “I don’t believe you.”

  I look over at him. “I swear.”

  Running a hand through his blond hair, he says, “What were you doing early this morning so close to the old plant?”

  “Not that I owe you any explanation, but I was out for a drive to clear my head.”

  “Right!” he says a little snidely.

  “I wanted to see my old house if you must know, but my car broke down on the way.”

  He eyes me. “Will did some quick research on you this morning after Jasper told us he ran into you on the road. You went to Northern Michigan University, and after you graduated with a degree in Journalism you spent the next six years running a bed-and-breakfast on Mackinac Island and writing for a small blog. And then, out of the blue, you end up here. Why you made the transition from a place like that and back to Detroit, where no one wants you, is what has us all worried.”

  His words sting, but at least I know Jasper was expecting me at this event today and I didn’t shock him with my appearance. “You have nothing to worry about when it comes to me.”

  His narrowed stare tells me he doesn’t believe me. “Your whole I’m innocent routine might have Jasper in a state of confusion, but I can promise you, it’s not working on me.”

  Having reached the tables, I grab my bag and then turn to look at him. With my voice low, I say, “I know Jasper is your friend. I understand the need to protect him. There was a time long ago when he was my friend too. And because of that, you have to believe me when I say that I have no intention of hurting him.”

  “You just being here already has.”

  From that, I can’t recover. “I promise you my being here today was not my doing.”

  Jake takes a step closer. “Why are you here?”

  I try to keep my composure. The last thing I want to do is break down in front of all of these people. “Because I work for The Detroit Scene, and covering the launch of the Storm is big news.”

  He grits his teeth. “No, that’s not what I mean. Why did you come back to Detroit?”

  “For my job.”

  “Look, Charlie or Charlotte, or whatever the hell your name is. I’m not stupid. It’s way too coincidental that you show up back in Detroit just as the sale of your father’s land is about to go through.”