“Because you’re always so…happy.”
“To be fair, you haven’t known me that long, and not everyone is happy all the time. Or grumpy,” I had to add.
He narrowed his eyes for a second and snorted. “See? You’re making a joke. Happy.”
I shrugged. “Life’s too short to be unhappy.”
He looked at my computer. “What do you need to do in order to get published?”
“Depends on if I go the traditional route or independently publish.”
“What’s the difference?”
“If I traditionally publish, I have to write a bunch of query letters—and when I say a bunch, we’re probably talking hundreds—to agents in hopes that one of them will take me on. Then, the agent searches for a publisher.”
He nodded.
“If I go the independent route, I’m the publisher. I don’t have to find an agent, but I have to find someone to edit my books and a cover artist to make my covers. And I have to do all my marketing myself. That stuff is usually handled by the publishing company.”
“Hmm.” He shrugged. “I think you should go for it. Try to get traditionally published if that’s what you want, but if it doesn’t work out, do it yourself. There are a lot of independent authors out there who put out some damn good stuff.”
I raised my brow. “Really? And you know this how?”
“I read them.” He stood and stepped closer to me. “When I decided I wanted to do carpentry, I could have looked for a business to hire me, but I wanted to work for myself. I had no idea if I’d make enough money to support myself, but I had to at least give it a shot. If no one bought my stuff, at least I’d know I’d tried.” He put his hand on my shoulder. “The biggest failure is not trying at all. If you put your books out there to the world and you don’t get a lot of sales, you’re no worse off than you are now. Because at this point, no one is reading your work. You don’t have anything to lose.”
“Yeah, just time and my confidence.”
“Sounds like you’re not all that confident right now. And failing is better than living with a what-if.” He patted my shoulder and walked out of the room.
A few seconds later, I heard my front door open and close.
9
Charli
By the time Saturday rolled around, I was ready for the movers to arrive. I had been wearing the same three tops and bottoms I had packed before leaving Richmond. I was looking forward to seeing all of my clothes again.
The company I had hired had an app for me to track the truck as it made its way north. It had been traveling all night and was set to arrive before noon. Despite knowing I had some work ahead of me, I was excited to be officially done with Virginia.
I took a shower, made breakfast, and picked up around my house. I even made my bed—something I reserved for clean-sheets day. But if strangers were going to be walking into my bedroom, I would make an exception.
When I heard the sound of a diesel engine coming down the road, I sprinted to the front window. When the truck backed into the driveway, I noticed it looked bigger than what I had asked for, but I wasn’t an engineer, and estimating sizes wasn’t my thing.
I exited my front door at the same time Gabe was coming out of his.
“This for you?” he asked.
I hadn’t spoken to Gabe since he’d left my house on Tuesday. I’d caught glimpses of him working outside, and I’d stopped to admire the view. But that was it.
Truthfully, I was kind of avoiding him. I didn’t want to talk about my writing career and confidence, or lack thereof, with him. I needed time to process everything we had talked about on my own. He was the first person to actually encourage my writing. How was I supposed to handle being encouraged? Now what? Would I actually be expected to sit down and finish my manuscript?
“Yes, but…” I took in Gabe’s scowl and changed my mind about telling him the rest. He didn’t care if I was getting overcharged. “I don’t have much stuff, so they should be out of here in an hour or so.”
He took his eyes away from the truck to look at me. “It’s fine.”
“Thanks,” I said, not believing him as I hopped off the front porch to greet the movers.
The driver came around to the back as I approached.
The passenger followed. “Are you Charlotte Granger?”
“I am.”
He handed me the clipboard and a pen. “Sign at the bottom that you received your stuff.”
I wasn’t going to sign until I saw my possessions in the back. Thankfully, the man didn’t wait for me. He went to help the driver, who was sliding the back door up.
I smiled when I saw my things sitting there, and I was about to sign when my eye caught something else. “What is that in the back?”
The two men were pulling boxes out and setting them on the lawn.
The driver looked up and shrugged. “A dresser, I think.”
“What?” I practically wailed. “I didn’t want that crap.”
“What’s wrong?” Gabe said from behind me, and I jumped.
“Don’t scare me like that.”
He didn’t seem to care.
“It’s an old bedroom set that my ex-boyfriend’s sister gave us.” The set included a headboard, a dresser, and a chest. And they were hideous. I loved antique furniture with character but not these. “It’s old and half-green because the paint keeps peeling off of it.” I clenched my fists. “Felix knows I hated them. And it looks like he didn’t even send the spare bed with them.” I had told him that he could keep the bed, but it was a dick move for him to give me part of the bedroom set but keep the mattress and box spring. “I have no idea what I’m going to do with them.”
They weren’t going in my spare bedroom—that was for sure.
I put my hands on my head as I considered my options. “I guess I can have the movers put them in the basement.”
The passenger mover looked up. “We’re not moving the stuff into the house,” he said.
“Excuse me?”
“At pickup, we only moved directly from residence to truck. Upon arrival, you selected threshold delivery.”
“What’s threshold delivery?”
“It’s basically curbside drop-off.”
“No, no, no, no. There must be a mistake.” I pulled out my phone and opened my email app. I scrolled down to my confirmation email.
And when I opened it, I saw that the man was right.
I wanted to cry.
There was no way I was going to be able to move the big stuff in by myself. It was at least a two-person job to move the furniture through the house and down the basement stairs. Plus, I had all my other stuff to move in too.
It was going to take me all day.
What was I saying the other day about being excited to live by myself?
I had no roommate or friends, and for a moment, I felt very alone.
“If I pay extra now, can you move everything in?” I winced because I could barely afford what I had already agreed to pay them.
“Sorry. Can’t. We need to be on the road as soon as possible. We have another deadline we need to meet.”
“Okay.”
I bit my lip, so I wouldn’t start weeping in front of three grown men. Although I did consider letting the tears flow. Maybe they’d feel sorry for me and help out of the goodness of their hearts. But that wasn’t fair, and I didn’t want to manipulate them.
“I need to go inside for a minute. I’ll be right back,” I announced to anyone who was listening.
Feeling overwhelmed, I slowly walked up to my door.
Just a few hours ago, I had been enthusiastic. Now, I felt like someone had taken all my excitement and sucked it out of me with a vacuum.
I set the clipboard and pen down on the coffee table and went to the bathroom.
And I gave myself three minutes to cry.
When my time was up, I took five calming breaths and patted my face dry with a towel.
The situation wasn’t
that bad. I might have exaggerated that moving everything inside would take me all day. It would take time, but I would be able to do it before dark.
And my new bosses had already let me have the day off despite Saturday being one of the busiest days. I didn’t have anywhere else I needed to be.
As for the big items that needed to go in the basement, maybe Audrey or Zara knew some high school kids who would help me for a few dollars. It would probably take all of ten minutes if I had a few extra hands.
My world was not coming to an end. Everything would be okay.
I looked in the mirror before I walked out. My cheeks and eyes were red, so I splashed cold water on them. It probably didn’t help much, but at least I’d tried.
When I walked out, Gabe was standing in my living room with a couple boxes at his feet.
Great. He’d probably heard me sobbing.
Or maybe he’d just walked in and not heard anything.
A girl could hope.
“Yes?” I said.
“They’re looking for the paperwork, and they need you to pay.”
“Oh, right.”
I had put my credit card down to secure the truck, but I wanted to pay in cash. I had a bad habit of letting my credit card balance get too high, so I avoided using it at all costs. It was strictly for emergencies.
I searched through my purse for my wallet and picked up the clipboard from the living room before heading outside.
I looked at the huge pile in the front yard and groaned. The good news was, I didn’t feel like crying again.
But I didn’t remember having this much stuff.
I turned away from the accumulation of boxes and other items, signed the paperwork, and held it out for one of the movers to take.
“Thank you,” the driver said and told me the total.
“Can you repeat that?”
He repeated the total. I had heard him correctly the first time. It was two hundred fifty dollars more than it had originally been.
“That is not the amount in my email.” And I should know because I’d just looked at it.
“Let me look.” The driver flipped through his paperwork. “Oh. Here it is. You called two days later to upgrade the size of the truck.” He looked up at me. “You should have gotten a second confirmation email.”
“Yeah, well, I didn’t.”
“Did you check your spam?”
My shoulders slumped as I opened up my email app again. I remembered my first email going to my junk folder.
And there it was. The second email with the changes. Except…
“I see it here, but I didn’t know to check my spam because I hadn’t called and made any changes.”
I clenched my jaw. Now, I was pissed. Felix had had no right to go behind my back like that.
The guy shrugged. “I’m sorry. You can call headquarters and see if they’ll refund you. I don’t have the authorization to make changes.”
“But I only have enough cash for the original price.” I crossed my arms over my chest. “I’ll give you what I have. If the company wants me to pay the difference, I will do so after I call them.”
The guy winced. “I’m sorry, but you have to pay the full amount, or we will have to take everything back with us.”
“But that would double your time being here. You have a deadline.”
He shrugged. “Ma’am, I’m sorry, but I’m just doing my job.”
I rubbed my forehead in frustration. I understood. I had been a lackey my whole life, and I hated it when customers got mad at me for decisions that were way above my pay grade. I dropped my hand and sighed. “Fine. I guess you’ll—”
“I got it.”
I swung around to see Gabe pulling his wallet out of his back pocket.
“How much is it?” he asked the mover.
“You’re not paying,” I told him as the driver offered the amount behind me.
Gabe ignored me and handed the man a credit card. He looked at me. “You can just give me your cash.”
I stepped closer to him and swallowed. “I can’t afford to pay you the difference right now.” I hated to admit that to my landlord, but I hoped he would realize that my next rent payment wasn’t due for almost a month. “Maybe after I get paid but not today.”
“It’s fine. You give me the old furniture, and we’ll call it even.”
I stepped back and looked him up and down. “You’re going to take that awful furniture off my hands, and I don’t have to pay you back?”
“Yes.”
The driver handed Gabe back his card.
“Thank you,” I said in shock.
“You’re welcome. Let’s get your stuff moved in now, shall we?”
10
Charli
The movers drove away as I looked down at the pile of boxes on the lawn.
“Did you already move some of my things in?” I asked Gabe.
He picked up a box. “Yep. But I only set them in your living room since nothing was labeled.”
I picked up my own box. I was horrible about labeling. “If it’s light, it’s probably clothes, and you can put it in my bedroom. If it’s pretty heavy, it’s probably books, and you can set it in the spare room,” I said to his back as we walked in the house. “I’ll go through the rest of the stuff later.”
Gabe set the box down and stood. “It would have been a lot easier if you’d just labeled them.”
I shrugged as I walked past him toward my bedroom. “It’s not that hard to open them and look inside.”
It was late afternoon by the time Gabe and I had brought all the boxes in and moved the ugly bedroom set to his garage.
I tried to look around to see what he was working on, but he hustled me out of there pretty quickly.
I could admit, I wanted to know a little more about what made Gabe tick.
As we walked back to the house, I asked, “Can I make you dinner as a thank-you?”
He looked toward the road, and I knew he was going to say no.
“It’s okay. I’m sure you have better things to do on your Saturday night.” I headed back to my rental door. “Thanks again for your help.”
It was probably a good thing that Gabe wasn’t coming over to eat. I had a phone call I needed to make.
I punched in the number and let the phone ring.
“Hello?” Felix said as Gabe knocked on my screen door.
“I forgot my flannel,” he said.
In the middle of moving, he had taken his shirt off. Unfortunately, underneath, he was wearing a T-shirt. I could have used a show after the day I had.
I pointed toward the dining room. “It’s on the table.”
“Who’s that?” Felix said.
I waved at Gabe and turned my back to the door.
“My neighbor. But that’s not important. I want to know why the hell you upgraded the truck with the moving company.”
“Because after you forwarded the details, I realized it wasn’t big enough to take the bedroom set.”
“A bedroom set I didn’t want. With no bed to make it complete. You could have at least also included my bookcase.”
I loved that bookcase. Felix and I had found it at a secondhand furniture store. I hadn’t even considered bringing it up to Vermont because it was big and heavy. But since a bigger truck had been ordered, it would have probably fit.
“But you didn’t do that because you knew I loved that thing, didn’t you?”
Felix laughed. It wasn’t an evil laugh. It was one filled with true humor. “Char, it was a joke. I know you hated the furniture—that’s why I sent it. I didn’t even think about the bookcase.”
After all our years together, I had never gotten used to my ex’s sense of humor.
“It’s not funny, Felix. You’re lucky I had someone who could take the bedroom set.”
“You’re not keeping it?” he asked, his voice serious now.
“Why would I keep it? You know I hated it.”
“I guess I thought
…”
I waited for him to finish, but he didn’t say anything else. “You thought what?”
“I…” He sighed. “I thought you’d ask me to come there to live with you. And then I’d bring the rest of our stuff.”
What?
“Felix, you broke up with me, remember?”
“I know.” He sounded sad. “It’s just that I miss you.”
“You should have thought about that before you told me you wanted to be single again.”
“Don’t you miss me?”
I gave the question honest consideration. “Honestly? No.”
“Ouch.”
“I’m sorry. Would you prefer if I lied?”
“No.”
“Okay then. It’s time to move on.”
“I guess.”
“Back to you messing with my reservation. You owe me two hundred and fifty bucks. Actually, you owe my neighbor the money because he’s the one who paid the difference.”
“Your neighbor, huh? That’s the second time I’ve heard you mention him.”
Really? “Yeah, because he helped me move my stuff, thanks to you.”
“Are you sure he’s not more than that? Is that why you don’t miss me?”
“Where is this coming from?” I had never known Felix to be the jealous kind.
“It’s okay, Char; you can tell me the truth.”
I was too tired to fight with him. Felix might not have been jealous in the past, but I had known him to be pretty stubborn.
“You’re right, Felix. Gabe is not my new neighbor. He’s the new guy I’m seeing.”
“I knew it.” I could hear his victory in his voice.
“Are you happy? Will you send me the money now?”
“Does he make you come?”
“What the hell, Felix? Why are you asking me that?”
“Because I want to know if that’s why you’ve realized you don’t need me anymore.”
“I don’t need a man to make me come. I can do it myself.”
“Just tell me.”
I bared my teeth at the phone, glad he couldn’t see me. If I didn’t need the money so badly, I would hang up on him. But I was going to get that money, and I was going to pay Gabe back. I didn’t care what he’d said. The furniture was not worth that much money.
Sidetracked (The Busy Bean) Page 4
