by Ward, Alice
He laughed. It wasn’t the cruel chortle of a man preparing to smash another man into a pulp, though. It was with light humor and friendly amusement. He reached forward, but rather than swinging a fist as I expected, he clapped me on the shoulder.
“I’m just kidding.” He grinned broadly, and Ned snorted behind him. “I don’t like it when Gretchen’s upset, but I think the whole metaphysical thing’s kind of a joke. It’d be nice to see her take your money and do something else with it besides selling candles and rocks. Not that I don’t support my sister, but you know…” He whistled a few chords from The Twilight Zone.
I nodded along with him as he spoke, but something was nagging me in the back of my mind. Greg seemed to be well-aware of who I was in a professional capacity, but there didn’t appear to be an inkling from him about the relationship Gretchen and I were embarking upon. I would’ve assumed that, if he knew I was seeing his sister for more than business, he would have mentioned it at least once. The feigning anger toward me would have been a prime opportunity for him to bring it up, but he hadn’t.
Was it possible he just felt uncomfortable talking about it? Or had Gretchen failed to tell him? Was she embarrassed? Filled with regret?
I tried to play devil’s advocate with myself. Maybe Gretchen didn’t talk to her brother about her personal life even though she’d clearly spoken with him in detail about what was going on with the Pennington’s takeover. And if her best friend was Greg’s ex-wife, who he got along with, then surely Elena knew and would’ve said something to Greg. Right?
She hasn’t told anyone. The thought rang out in my mind with the singsong taunt of a snotty kid on the playground, and my stomach sank. Why it bothered me, I didn’t know — or didn’t want to know — but the high I felt coming off the intimate moment we’d had in the shop during the storm crashed like a boat against rocks.
In the interest of saving face, however, I tried to play off my disappointment like it didn’t even exist.
“Well, I’m glad we got the chance to meet,” I said politely. “I don’t want to keep you. My guide is supposed to be showing up.”
Greg and Ned laughed together, and Greg shook his head. “If you’re talking about Wendall, you’re better off going with us. He’s a couple leaves short of a bush. The last guy he ‘guided’ ended up in the hospital with a hook in his lip.”
I stared at him. “How the hell does that even happen?”
He laughed. “Who the hell knows.”
“Aw, hell.” I turned to my rental car and popped open the trunk to fish my gear out. “If you don’t mind my joining you…”
“Not at all.” Greg clapped me on the back again. “Get your stuff, and we’ll head out.”
I pulled out my rod and reel outfit, my waders and vest, grabbing the other supplies I’d need for a few hours on the water.
One of the main reasons I’d wanted to come to Fawn was to hit the rivers, but now I wasn’t nearly as excited as I’d been when I’d woken up a little over an hour before. As the three of us trekked to the rickety gate leading to our destination, I hoped I would get my zeal back.
More than that, I hoped Greg would give me some indication that Gretchen had mentioned me to him as being more than a pain in her ass.
“Do you have a dog?” The question threw me for a second as it seemed so random, but when he pointed to a flock of pheasants that had taken flight upon our approach, I realized Greg was asking if I had a hunting dog. Game bird hunting usually included a dog to point and flush out the birds.
“I have a Weimaraner, Bud. He’s back in Oklahoma, though. What about you? Do you hunt much?”
Greg shook his head, but Ned piped up. “My boy, Tanner, just passed. We hunted with him. He was a good boy, a Vizsla.”
I sympathized with his loss, and we started exchanging funny stories about our pets as we trudged along. The ground was slightly damp, and my boots were sucked an inch into mud everywhere I stepped, but it was a chilly but beautiful day to fish, and I felt at home for the first time in Michigan.
Gretchen still lingered in the back of my mind, though, and I was finding it difficult to concentrate on anything else. Hoping to eliminate the distraction, I decided to broach the topic again, fishing for any clue that she considered me something more than a nuisance.
“It’s nice of you to invite me to come along with you guys.” I kept my eyes straight ahead as I talked, and we didn’t break stride. “Once I found out you were Gretchen’s brother, I figured you wouldn’t have wanted anything to do with me. I can only imagine what she’s said.”
“Nah, nothing too bad.” He sounded genuinely dismissive of my assertion. “She just doesn’t like all the pressure, and she hates seeing everyone around her selling out.”
It was all the proof I needed that Greg was completely in the dark about my budding relationship with his sister. He could have responded with plenty of things to indicate more knowledge, a sarcastic remark about having heard more about me than he cared to or a joke about her poor taste in men. Something. But I got nothing, and I wasn’t sure how I felt about it.
Actually, I knew exactly how I felt about it.
Just like my dad, I was clearly an embarrassment to Gretchen. Someone she wanted to hide.
It hurt more than it should.
We spent the next two hours tossing out our lines, waiting for the fat trout to take the bait. We all got several bites, and Ned brought in a nice one, but I had nothing in hand by the time we returned to our cars.
Greg’s truck was closer to the gate than my car, and we paused when we reached his vehicle. He stuck his hand out. I shook it.
“It was nice to meet you.” He grinned. “I’ll see if I can put in a good word for you with my sister.”
The irony of the statement was such that I had to force myself not to roll my eyes, and I met his grin with as pleasant a smile as I could muster. “Thanks, man. I appreciate you letting me tag along.”
“It was a good time.” Ned stepped forward to shake my hand as well. “Hopefully, we’ll have better luck next time, eh?”
“Yeah.” I lifted my hand in a farewell wave. “See you.”
The sounds of them replacing their equipment in their vehicles faded as I went to my car. I unloaded myself, then dropped into the driver’s seat, but I didn’t crank the engine. Disappointment was pulsing in my veins, and there was a little anger there too. I was mad at myself. Somehow, I’d deluded myself into believing my attraction to and interest in Gretchen was reciprocated. I mean, hell, the kind of sex we had didn’t just happen.
All the memories of working so hard to please my father came rearing back into my mind. I’d spend hours and hours on a project only to have it receive a dismissive glance and some stern lecture on how it could have been better.
Nothing I ever did was good enough. Memorable enough.
Seemed that distinction wasn’t only associated with my father.
I didn’t go to Auras after leaving the river like I’d intended. I went back to Bullfrog Bay and buried myself in work with a heated and renewed sense of determination to get what Pennington’s wanted from me.
Happiness be damned.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Gretchen
Two days had passed since the big storm, and though the weather had cleared up nicely, the aftermath had not. Streetsweepers had been up and down the block multiple times, but there was still an excess of litter, debris, and gunk that had washed into the gutters and the cracks of the sidewalk.
Not a very pleasant sight for the trick-or-treaters who would be visiting later that evening.
Maybe.
Sadness gripped me as I wondered if the little witches and ghosts, princesses and action figures would be parading down my street now that everything was almost closed.
All because of Pennington’s.
Rolling my eyes at the poufy pink dress I wore, I brushed the thought away and focused on the task at hand.
In the interest of keeping my
store as clean as I could both inside and out, I left Abby in charge of the register while I ventured outside to take care of the mess marring my otherwise charming shop façade.
“Yuck.” I wrinkled my nose as I plucked a crumpled receipt covered in swampy muck from the dip in the curb and stuffed it into the plastic grocery bag I was using as a mobile trash can. Even though the ground had dried up thanks to an afternoon of sunshine, the pungent scent of marshy water persisted, and my hands now smelled like I’d washed them in a scummy pond.
“Hey, Gretchen!” I looked up to see Alonzo Harbinger, the owner of the closing kitchen store beside me, smiling at me over a stack of cutting boards in his arms. “Congratulations!”
I started to return his greeting when it registered that he’d congratulated me. Creasing my brow, I called back, “For what?”
He said something, but it was inaudible over the loud clatter of his stack tumbling to the concrete. With a loud curse, Alonzo dropped to his knees and began gathering the boards. I dropped my plastic bag onto the bench outside Auras so I could go to him and assist, but I was sidetracked by another fellow storeowner driving past in his hatchback.
“Heard the news!” He shook his head and cast me a sympathetic smile. “Tough call, eh?”
I didn’t have a chance to ask what he meant before he trundled off with a wave out his window. Confused and a little uneasy, I turned back toward Alonzo for clarification, but he and his cutting boards were gone.
“This is weird,” I muttered under my breath.
As if summoned by my uncertainty, the door to the consignment shop across the street opened, and the owner, Marilyn Meyers, stepped out. She untied one of the knots keeping her GOING OUT OF BUSINESS SALE banner aloft beneath her pink-and-white-striped canopy and was about to repeat the action on the second knot when she noticed me watching her.
“Hi there, honey!” She smiled brightly, and I caught a whiff of her thick powder-scented perfume even from across the distance.
“Hello, Marilyn.”
She turned away, satisfied with the greeting, to resume her banner removal. I waffled between returning to cleaning and venturing over to her to find out what was going on. Confusion getting the better of me, I checked both ways before trotting across the road to her.
“Marilyn?”
The middle-aged woman jumped, clapping an alarmed hand to her heart. Despite the dramatic movement, her flaxen-dyed bouffant didn’t move a mite. “Goodness!” She exhaled a breath spicy with spearmint gum and laughed a little sheepishly. “You scared me!”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to.” Shoving my hands into my back pockets and rocking back on the heels of my slip-ons, I cleared my throat. “I was wondering if there’s something going on, like an event or… I don’t know. Have you heard anything?”
“About an event?” She shook her head. The bouffant still didn’t move. “No, honey, I haven’t heard a thing about that.”
“Well, not necessarily an event. Just some news, maybe. Alonzo congratulated me, and Bradley Nielson said something about a tough call, but I don’t know why.” I shrugged. “There’s been so many changes around here lately that I guess it’s making me a little nosy, you know?”
Her lined eyes lit up, and her mouth puckered into a sphere of understanding. “Oh! You finally sold!”
I blinked at her. “I… what?”
“We’ve all heard about it. That’s all Alonzo and Bradley meant, I’m sure.” She patted my shoulder and tilted her head with the soft expression of someone looking at a lonely puppy. “It must have been a rough decision to make. You held out as long as you could, though, and that’s something. And who knows what doors are open to you now?”
“Marilyn, I didn’t sell my shop.” A sick feeling was starting to spread in my stomach. “Who did you hear that from?”
“Well, I heard about it from Arnold, but everyone’s talking about it.” Arnold was Marilyn’s husband. He was a friendly but stern man who had his hand in a number of ventures around Fawn, and he also was a member of the town council. If Marilyn had heard from him that I’d given in to Pennington’s, then this was well beyond idle, misinformed gossip.
A twinge of panic dampened my mind. “What exactly did Arnold tell you?” I didn’t want to seem pushy, but if our local government was under the impression I’d surrendered my property in exchange for a sizeable check, I was potentially looking at a serious problem.
She pulled her mouth to one side as she recalled. “Not much, really. He said you must have agreed to sell because Pennington’s has officially filed the paperwork to get their building permits.” She shrugged. “He didn’t know much more about it, or he didn’t tell me more than that. But you say you didn’t agree to anything?”
“No.” The sick feeling in my gut twisted into something new, but I couldn’t identify it yet. “I agreed to absolutely nothing.”
“You might want to put a call into town hall, then, honey. According to Arnold, the permit paperwork has definitely been filed, and it would be extremely presumptuous of Pennington’s to file without a deal.”
Unwelcome thoughts were flooding my mind, and I tried to shuffle the worst out of my consciousness. “Maybe the permits don’t include my property.”
Marilyn shook her head. “I don’t think so. Arnold specifically mentioned you and Auras. It sounds to me like they’re expecting to include your land in their build space.”
A growl unfurled in my throat, and I recognized the new sensation in my belly. Pure, unfiltered, boiling rage. The thoughts I’d tried to push away came back at full force, an army of evil bastards bashing down my protective gate with an enormous tree trunk, and one bastard shimmered into view at the forefront.
Cash. This was Cash’s doing.
“Thank you, Marilyn.” I kept my words clipped to prevent myself from exploding at the kindly woman. “I’ll see you later.”
“Bye-bye, honey.”
As she returned to her banner, I trekked back across the street without bothering to make sure there was no traffic coming from either direction. My blood was searing in my veins, and I could hear my heart beating in my ears. I was so furious that my hand shook when I reached for the knob and pushed the door open to my spiritual sanctuary.
Abby looked up when I entered, and the expression on my face must have been fearsome enough to prevent her from saying a word. I beelined straight for my cell phone beneath the counter.
“Go outside and finish cleaning up the storm junk,” I ordered my wide-eyed employee. It was rare for me to be crisp, let alone barking, and she remained rooted to the spot for a full second before it clicked in her eyes that I meant business. She scampered out to the sidewalk without argument, and I turned my attention to my phone.
Cash’s number was listed in my recent calls, but I didn’t hit his name right away. Calling him while I was this amped up seemed like a bad idea no matter how much I wanted to rip him a new asshole. I inhaled slowly, drinking in a stream of incense-flavored air, and let it out while counting to ten. Having a full-out meditation session right now wasn’t an option, but I needed to simmer down before I placed the call.
Once my fingers were able to remain still for more than a nanosecond, and I didn’t hear the rush of blood in my ears anymore, I decided I was ready. I punched the pad of my index finger down, purposely covering his name because seeing it made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up, and lifted the phone to my ear.
It rang once. I can’t believe he did this.
Twice. I never should’ve trusted him.
Three times. Answer your fucking phone, asshole!
“Hello?”
The sound of his voice was like a match to my carefully monitored flame. I flared all over again, and whatever calm I’d managed to muster evaporated like the rain after the thunderstorm through which we consummated our bizarre relationship.
He also sounded absentminded, as if he hadn’t checked who the caller was before picking up. I pushed my cell so ha
rd against my ear that the lobe started to hurt.
“Cash. It’s Gretchen.” I succeeded in keeping my tone level, but no amount of control could keep the tremor of rage out of it.
“Oh. Hey.” If he was happy to hear from me, he didn’t let on, and any doubts about his involvement I might’ve had regarding the whole building permit debacle were eliminated. This was someone I’d been out with, spent time with, talked to about deep and meaningful things. He was someone I’d slept with, for god’s sake. The way he greeted me could have just as easily been the way he greeted an associate he didn’t particularly care for, and I was angered further by the streak of hurt I felt.
“You need to get here. Now.”
He paused for a breath. “Problem?”
“You have no idea.” My chest was rising and falling like I’d just run a marathon, and I was starting to see a fuzzy white border around my vision. There had never been a time in my memory that I’d been this irate. I wouldn’t have been surprised in the slightest if I ended up having a heart attack in the next hour or two. “I mean it, Cash. Get your ass to Auras in the next five minutes, or I’m coming to find you.”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Cash
Under normal circumstances, Gretchen calling and demanding to see me immediately would have put a thick woody in my pants. These weren’t normal circumstances, though.
The quake in her words and sharpness in her delivery told me more than her vague command, and I was sure she was very pissed off about something. That might have given me an erection too, knowing how sexy she was when she was fired up, but finding out that she appeared to be ashamed of our budding relationship, of me, still bothered me past the point of idle arousal.
