He stepped toward her. “Alice, it’s true. I paid off Norma Green but―”
“You’re so clever, really. I would never have agreed to it if I’d known it was you. But as BWK you could walk in here, scope out the place, get set up, and make your move. They call that a hostile take-over, right?”
“I don’t own this building. The security system was a good idea, to keep you and your books safe. Everything is still in your name.” Paul said, frustration coloring his words.
“Your mom came to my store and asked me to leave you alone. I thought that was so sweet.” For some reason the thought of Mrs. Olivier hurt more than almost anything else. “I really liked her, you know. Maybe she was more worried about me than about you. She already knew, didn’t she? About how you bought the building?”
“Alice! I didn’t buy your building and she doesn’t know anything about BWK.” Paul ran a hand through his hair, tension in every line of his body.
“Sorry, but I just don’t believe you. It’s hard to trust someone who has lied to your face every day you’ve known them.” Alice looked down at the cover of The Duke’s Secret. “Ironic, really,” she whispered to herself.
She turned toward the door, stopping to ask one more question. “You didn’t really buy those Arthur Rackham prints for a friend, did you?”
He looked pained. “I admit it. That was a lie. I just wanted to make up for being such a jerk.”
“No, Paul. That’s called buying people off.” She picked up the Browning book. “You have one of these, right? Unless you already stripped the pages out of it and fed it through your machine.”
“Alice, wait―” Paul said but the rest of his sentence was lost when she slammed the door.
She arrived at her apartment, not having seen a single step of the way, tears running down her cheeks. She should have trusted her first instinct and known that Paul was busy buying off the town. Nobody was that generous, that thoughtful. Everyone wanted money and power. It was part of the human condition.
She stood in the middle of her living room, weeping and clutching The Seraphim and Other Poems to her chest. After losing her parents and Mr. Perrault, watching her grandmother slide into dementia, and then having her brothers drift away into their own busy lives, Alice thought the world couldn’t break her. She thought she was stronger than anything life could throw at her. She certainly thought she was safe from someone she’d only met a few weeks ago.
Everything she’d known about herself was shifting, changing. She wasn’t invincible. Her comfortable life had been completely open to anyone who wished to plunder it, and she hadn’t even known.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Everything is fraught with danger. I love technology and I love science. It’s just always all in the way you use it. You can’t really blame anything on the technology. It’s just the way people use it, and it always has been.—Steve Martin
“We’ve got cosplayers on the sidewalk with broadswords and metal detectors,” Andy said. He was staring out the front window.
Paul heaved himself off the couch and stood next to Andy. Tuesday had started with the undeniable influx of out-of-towners searching for Alice’s rings, hoping to win the grand prize at the opening.
“They’re scaring the locals. We should ask them to leave off the body armor until the party.” Paul went back to the couch and slouched into the cushions, reopening his book. The sun streamed through the window and it would have been ideal if he hadn’t been in such a foul mood.
“And the chainmail bikinis. Not that I really object,” Andy said.
Paul grunted and turned a page.
“Hey, Sparkly Vampire, life is still worth living.” He came and sat on the coffee table across from him. “Did her gumbo not taste like your mom’s? That stuff was spicy. I felt like my mouth was melting.”
“Gumbo’s fine.”
“Did you tell her you’ve never really wanted to live with twenty cats?”
“I like cats.”
“Wait, did she decide you’re too rich and famous to date?”
Paul said nothing.
Andy said, “I had this roommate in my freshman year of college whose girlfriend broke up with him and he decided to take it out on me. First, he just stopped talking. Then, he stopped showering and emptying the trash. Finally, he decided it was all my fault and one day, when I left my laptop unattended, he decided to download a vicious cocktail of viruses and I had to nuke the hard drive from orbit.”
“Have you checked your computer today?” Paul asked without looking up.
“Funny. But I’m just a little worried about you.”
“Don’t be. I’m fine.”
“And you are a terrible liar.”
Paul heaved a sigh and slammed the book closed. A tiny puff of dust appeared in the sunlight, and the sight of it made his chest ache.
“I did something I probably shouldn’t have, even though I thought it was a good idea at the time, but it actually makes me look like a terrible person.”
“You’ve just described every bad decision I ever made,” Andy said.
“And she’ll find out pretty soon that I’m not a terrible person. Not the way she thinks I am,” Paul said.
“Which is good, right?”
He stared at the ceiling. “How many times can someone say they’re sorry, and you accept that apology, before the hurt feelings don’t go away? Eventually, there are too many misunderstandings and apologies. They start to build up.”
Andy shook his head. “My parents have been married thirty-eight years. I don’t think there’s a limit on it if you really love someone.”
“Not if you’ve already decided you’re in it for the long haul,” Paul said slowly. “But when you’re just starting out…” He didn’t finish his sentence. He wanted that long, long future with Alice, where they would weather the petty arguments and bumps in the road and probably a few major failures on each side. But when those things came too soon, before real trust was built, the relationship didn’t have a chance.
Paul stood up. “I don’t even know why I’m thinking about this anymore. Romeo and Juliet, remember?”
“I suppose,” Andy said, but he didn’t seem as sure as he had been before.
Paul’s cell phone rang and he pulled it out of his pocket. “Hello?”
“I’m here!” A high pitched squeal formed the last part of the word.
“Holly?” Paul swiveled and made eye contact with Andy. He’d forgotten to mention she threatened a visit. Andy’s lip curled up in an expression of extreme loathing.
“I’m in Natch- ih- toechez,” she crowed. “I want to stay in a mansion. Where are the mansions?”
“Where are you now?” Paul asked. He hoped she wouldn’t say on the boardwalk somewhere.
“Right outside your door, sweetie! I tried to get up there but you’ve got some big, burly security boys who just won’t let me by.” Her voice had gone high and girlish.
“Be right down.” Paul disconnected. “We’ve got trouble.”
“She’s not staying here,” Andy said. Then he raised his hands at Paul’s expression. “I mean, obviously.”
He rubbed his face and then touched an icon on his phone. “Mama? How fast can you make it to town?”
***
“I’ve always wanted this collection.” Karen turned over the little poetry book and smiled. “I remember reading one of her poems in high school. Didn’t she marry a poet, too?”
“Robert Browning.” Alice handed Karen the receipt and mustered a smile. “Enjoy. The Sonnets from The Portuguese is probably one of the most quoted set of poems. How do I love thee and all that.”
Karen tucked the receipt in her purse. She looked up, a frown line appearing between her brows. “Are you okay? I don’t mean to be nosy, but you seem… sad.”
Alice straightened up. “No, no. Just tired. I didn’t sleep well.”
“Oh, I know. All the people coming in for the ScreenStop opening. I ran into a big crow
d of them in Babet’s Café and they were painted blue. I think they were supposed to be some character in the game that’s coming out. I don’t really play video games but I can’t wait for the opening!” She bounced on her toes. “I’ve been dying to get a new iPad and if you buy one there before midnight, you get a hundred dollar gift card.”
Stacking a few papers to the right of the register, Alice kept her expression neutral. “Well, have fun and let me know how it goes.”
“I will, and thanks again,” Karen said, heading to the door. “You should really go. It’s going to be amazing.”
Alice waved without answering. As soon as the door swung closed again, she sank onto the stool behind the counter. She reached up for her parents’ rings and realized they were gone, again. She closed her eyes for a second, imagining the weight of the gold in her hand. They had always been like a quiet, reassuring touch from her parents. No one else knew what they were, no one ever touched them. Except for Paul. The image of him holding the rings in his hand flashed through her mind and she pushed it away. Just like everything else, he had somehow weaseled his way right into the middle, seeking out all her secrets, finding all her weak spots.
Alice took a breath, redirecting her seething anger into trying to decide on her next step. All she could hope for was that the week would pass quickly. She’d called Mr. Crocket, the lawyer. Although he’d insisted that he couldn’t reveal who had paid off Norma Green, Alice asked him to fax all the information to her as soon as possible.
She picked up the phone, and then set it down again. She hated to bother Randy any more than she had, but she desperately needed to know whether the building was hers or not. Surely the land title would have to be signed over before the building could legally change hands. Alice rubbed her eyes. She just didn’t know what to do next. Logic told her that she’d been tricked, and Mr. Perrault’s gift to her was going to disappear the same way as everything else she’d ever loved. But a small spark of hope still lived inside. It snuck up on her when she wasn’t looking, bursting into a full fire of wishful thinking before Alice tamped it back down. Smothering that bit of hope was the kindest thing she could do for herself.
The bell tinkled again as another customer stepped through. Alice took one look and knew this woman didn’t come from Natchitoches. If the black leather minidress and the sky-high heels didn’t scream out-of-towner, the sheer number of gold bangles and necklaces would have. Her blond hair was stick straight and impossibly long. She wobbled into the shop, having trouble getting through the door with her large, leather tote and rolling luggage.
“Oh, this is darling!” Her voice was high and breathy. She headed straight for Alice. “I saw the cutest display on Pinterest that had a stack of old books made into a table lamp.”
“A lamp set on a base of books?” Alice asked. That pretty much described her entire decorating theme.
“No, they glued them all together and drilled a hole right down the center for the cord.” The girl stared around. “Ooooh, with all these, I could have a bunch made for my friends.”
Alice tried to keep her voice level. “I don’t think these are the books you’re looking for.”
She pouted. “I suppose. I dunno.” Pulling her suitcase closer, she sighed. “Those guards around Paul’s apartment are so mean. I told them I’m his girlfriend but they just wouldn’t even call him.”
Alice froze. “His girlfriend?”
“Well, it’s complicated.” She tossed her hair over one shoulder. “But he invited me down here for the opening and everything so I just need to reach him.”
“I have a phone if you need―”
“Oh, no, I just called him. He’s on his way.” She stared around the store. “I hope he takes me to stay in a Southern mansion. Did you know they filmed Twelve Years a Slave around here? That black actress--what’s her name? Lupita something--she is so pretty. Too bad about her hair. Maybe she can get extensions like me.” She shook her head so that her hair fell in a curtain around her face.
Alice opened her mouth but didn’t know what to say so she closed it again. She’d never figured Paul for the kind who went for beauty over brains, but Alice obviously wasn’t the best judge of his character.
The door swung open and Mrs. Olivier walked through, her lips set in a thin line. She had on a casual top with nice slacks, but her expression said she was ready for business. Alice eased back toward the counter. She didn’t want to get involved in some weird love triangle. This woman could have Paul. She was welcome to him.
“Holly, how good to see you again,” Mrs. Olivier said. She held out both hands. Holly hesitated to let herself be kissed on the cheek. “It’s been a long time. Two years, right?”
“Hi, Rosie. Time flies when you’re…” Holly paused. She looked confused.
“…having fun.” The way Mrs. Olivier said it made it sound as if Holly had been neglectful in contacting her. “Well, it’s always nice to see Paul’s friends. I’ve got the perfect room reserved for you, down at the Violet Hill Bed and Breakfast.”
“Oh, no, I’m sure Paul has something in mind.” Holly flipped her hair and peered past Mrs. Olivier. “He’ll be right down.”
“He’s pretty busy, dear. He asked me to help you get settled. He wants you to be comfortable so I’ll take you right down the boardwalk to this pretty little place.” Mrs. Olivier was already reaching for Holly’s rolling luggage.
“No!” Holly gripped the handle hard and Alice thought for a moment they were going to tussle over it. “I mean, he said he would be here.”
“He’ll see you in a few hours. Why don’t we get you settled in and then when you’re all freshened up, you two can have some dinner?” Mrs. Olivier managed to wrestle the luggage away from Holly, and headed for the door.
She sighed. “I suppose. I do feel a little grimy from the plane. Business class was just packed. There were people on either side of me. Can you believe it?”
“I can, honey. I can.” Mrs. Olivier waved Holly through the door first. She turned back and nodded to Alice. Her expression wasn’t anything like what Alice expected. In fact, she winked as if they were co-conspirators in a plot. Alice mustered a smile, unsure what exactly had just happened.
When they were gone, she stood up, walked to the door, and peeked at the boardwalk. It was worse than it had been the other day, or even just that morning. The sidewalk was packed with people, most of them focusing on the grass or the pavement. A group of four men walked past, side-by-side, all dressed in green armor, slowly sweeping metal detectors with fierce concentration. A girl followed them on her knees, parting the grass as she made her way toward the end of the block.
Alice shook her head and went back to her desk. It made her slightly sick to see adults reduced to crawling around on their knees to win a contest. Even if it hadn’t been Paul’s idea, it left a bad taste in her mouth to see it right in front of her door. But Charlie said it was all his idea and that made it worse, somehow. He was manipulating people, watching them debase themselves for his games.
Darcy jumped down from the top of a range and stalked over to her. “I wish I could be like you, Darcy.” Alice reached down and tried to pet him, but he dodged her hand and continued to the back of the store. She straightened up and wrapped her arms around herself. If she could just stay out of the fray, happy to be by herself, not needing anyone else, then she would be safe. Even though Alice thought she had been cocooned in her quiet life, she hadn’t been safe at all. Paul had walked right in, with his shy smile, and his poetry, and his smooth Creole words. He’d walked right in and broken her heart. And it was all her own fault.
Chapter Twenty-Six
If the human race wants to go to hell in a hand basket,
technology can help it get there by jet.― Charles Mengel Allen
Paul’s phone rang and he didn’t move to answer it.
“You can’t ignore her forever ,” Andy said. He didn’t lift his eyes from the screen where he was working.
/> “Says who?” Paul muttered. Holly had been calling nonstop since she arrived the day before. His mother had managed to get her settled into one of the old-time bed and breakfasts, but Holly was convinced they would be spending lots of time together. Her voicemails included detailed descriptions of the canopy bed and the antiques in the bathroom. Paul was waiting for the ugly moment she realized he wasn’t going to be joining her. He gritted his teeth. None of this was his fault. He’d never given Holly any kind of encouragement, but here she was anyway.
“After this is all over, maybe we can take her on our bream fishing trip. Or the frog gigging. You did promise some frog gigging, if I remember correctly. That would scare her away.” Andy said.
“Oh, man. I’m sorry.” Paul dragged a hand through his hair. “I’ve been so wrapped up in these―”
“Girl problems,” Andy said.
“Business issues,” Paul said, “that I completely forgot I was supposed to be making a Southerner out of you.”
“Well, maybe I better find another mentor. Maybe you’re not the right guy for the job. In fact, I think you just might be a Yankee in disguise,” Andy said, pretending to be disgusted.
“Huh. I’m so Southern, I’m related to myself,” Paul said. “Just because I can pass in two cultures, doesn’t make me a traitor.”
“Seriously, though. We should take an afternoon and get out of here.”
Paul nodded. “I think you’re right. Nothing like a Tuesday afternoon spent on the river.” He didn’t know if he could take running into Alice right now. Every day, every hour, he went through the same cycle of emotions: anger, sadness, acceptance, hope. No matter how it started, it always came back to hope, even though there was no chance it would work out for them.
Along the Cane River: Books 1-5 in the Inspirational Cane River Romance Series Page 27
