We both get a good laugh at that, and I think he might have described her perfectly. I find it funny that Scarlett is just like my sister, Alexa, in that way—a tiny little thing with the loudest voice in the world.
“She’s got my number if she didn’t throw it out earlier. So if you need anything between now and her surgery time, give me a holler.”
“It was really nice to meet you,” Brendan says. “Thanks for being cool about her attitude.”
“Eh, we all have our moments. I’ve been there.”
“Well, let’s hope you two aren’t like that at the same time,” Brendan says, laughing nervously.
I’d like to tell him I’m not afraid of her, but I’ll let them think she’s got the control she clearly needs. “So true,” I tell him. Brendan takes his wallet out to pay for the drink. “No, no man, I got it. It’s the least I can do after the day you’ve had.”
He snickers and runs his hand down the side of his face. “I’ll get you next time. Thanks again.” Brendan rushes out, and I can imagine he’s going to be running for the next few minutes until he catches up with Miss Bruiser.
CHAPTER NINE
Scarlett
I just want to curse everything. How could anyone possibly be happy here?
Thankfully, I finally see the lights outside the plantation. There are definitely no more shortcuts for me, so I’ll happily walk down the long-as-hell dirt road.
As I reach the front porch, I find several guests sitting in the rocking chairs, sipping on martinis or whatever they call cosmos down here. After having a better look at the local people, I see that their apparel isn’t necessarily outdated but just different. Their modern style is bolder and more colorful with assorted patterns I don’t normally see. Plus, they’re all very conservatively covered, too. At night in Boston, it’s more common to see the less conservative styles.
“Good evening,” I greet the visitors. I hop into my hospitality role, knowing I’m starting work in just a couple of days, granted I don’t die or something during surgery tomorrow. Gah. “How are you doing tonight?”
“Oh, we’re just dandy,” one of the girls answers. She’s probably about my age, but her hair is tied tightly into a low knotted ballet bun, her dress stops below her knees, and she’s wearing pearls on her ears, neck, and wrists. That’s a lot of pearls. “Do you work here?”
I was still walking toward the front door, moving the conversation from start to end quickly, but with an attempt to avoid a job title of the “rude front desk woman,” I stop to answer. “Yes, I’ll be starting work here in a couple of days,” I tell her with a smile that probably looks as fake as it feels.
“Oh my goodness, what happened to your poor arm?” she asks.
I look down at my wrapped arm confined within a sling. “Oh, I had a little accident with a moss-covered, dirt hole earlier today. It wasn’t the greatest way to start my first day here,” I say with a forced laugh. I don’t want to sound too negative since I’m going to go on a limb and assume anything but a pleasant smile with an upbeat response is likely not acceptable here. In any case, this day can bite me.
“You poor thing. You spent your first day cooped up in the hospital?”
“Yep, that I did.” I shrug, hoping to shrug her away, but it’s like every word I offer is an invitation for her to pry a little more.
“Well, hopefully, you at least got to lay your eyes on the fine nurse down there—Austin Trace.”
Heat rushes through my cheeks, and I’m thankful the porch is only lit by hanging lanterns so I can keep my inner thoughts on Austin Trace’s looks to myself. “Oh, yes, I met him.” That’s all I’m going to say about Austin.
The woman stands up and straightens the pleats of her coral pink sundress and makes her way over to me. “I’m Laurie-Cate. I’m not actually a guest here, but my parents are in town and they enjoy staying in a villa rather than my silly little house down in the meadow.” She rolls her eyes and shoos the notion away. I want to tell her, maybe it’s because you talk too much or want to know too much, and even though you’re five feet away from me, I kind of feel like you’re standing on my toes right now.
“Oh,” I snicker. “Sounds like my family situation. My dad is just a wicked stellar man.” I roll my eyes the same way she did so she understands my sarcasm.
“Wicked?” She covers her mouth. “Y’all are from New England, aren’t you?”
Must stop speaking like I’m from Boston. Noted. “Oh, yes, I moved down here from Boston.”
“I’m so jealous!” she says, placing her hand on my shoulder. That’s enough touching for you, missy. I take a step back to put another foot of breathing space between us. I don’t think she even notices that I move, though. She has this star-gazed look in her eyes as if she’s dreaming out loud. “I’ve wanted to visit Boston my entire life.” It’s a three-hour flight, not exactly across the ocean or anything.
“Eh, there’s dirty water, mouthy people, and a lot of rushing around,” I tell her. “You’re not missing much.”
“Oh, hush. I’ve heard the city lights up like fireworks at night, and it’s beautiful.” I sigh because what else is there to say. It’s home to me and there’s not much more to it. “Are you going to be living in this town now?”
“Uh, yeah, I’m staying in one of the … smaller villas out back.” I try not to change the look on my face. I can’t insult the hotel or I’ll be fired before I start.
“One of the smaller villas?” she asks. “I didn’t know they came in different sizes.”
I smile—the fake one again. “I think they’re just a bit different for the out-of-town staff.”
“Oh, I see. Well, I’m glad to know I’ll be seeing you around town. It’ll be nice to have a fresh face around here.”
“Laurie-Cate, who is your friend?” One of the older women calls over.
“Oh, I’m so rude,” she says to me. “I didn’t even ask your name.”
“It’s Scarlett,” I tell her, reaching my hand out.
“Scarlett, huh? Well, by the sound of your name, you were born to be a Southerner.” Ha ha ha, I get it. Another Gone With the Wind reference. I have gone my entire life hearing one of those at least a half dozen times a week.
“Oh, yes, I know. Scarlett O’Hara. She had the name first,” I poke fun at myself while still holding my hand out to shake hers.
“Honey,” she says with a smile. “Hun, we don’t shake hands. We hug.” She pulls me in for a tight embrace, and I must look like a cat being scrunched in someone’s arms as I try to keep her body away from my arm. I pat her on the back a couple of times with my good hand, in a totally awkward way. “Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry. I didn’t hurt you, did I? What was I thinking? I’m such a dum-dum.”
“I’m okay. Don’t worry,” I say, placing my hand on her shoulder.
“Agh,” she squeals, fanning herself. “I’m such a klutz sometimes. Anywho, it’s so nice to meet you.”
“You too,” I say with an awkward gargling sound in my throat as I reach for the door.
“There you are.” I hear Brendan’s voice in the near distance. “I’m glad you made it back okay, and made a friend too. Oy, be still my heart, I might cry.”
“Brenny, quiet,” I tell him.
“Who is this?” Laurie-Cate asks, making her way down the steps toward him.
“This is my roommate and best friend, Brendan.”
“Just a roommate?” Laurie-Cate asks, fanning herself again. If I ever fan myself like that down here, there’s going to be a problem. I’m just settling that thought in the back of my head right now. “How is that possible?” She mutters the last part, but I’m sure Brenny heard her.
She reaches her hand out to him, and of course he knows to kiss her knuckles since we’ve jumped into another world where all people are just happy and pleasant all the time. This is a crock of shit. “It’s a pleasure to meet you—”
“Laurie-Cate,” she sputters.
“Well, I don’t
want to be rude, but I need to get this girl into bed so she can rest up for her surgery tomorrow,” Brendan tells her. He might not be into women or me for that matter, but ... take that, Miss Laurie-Cate and fan hand.
I take a deep breath filled with annoyance and … more annoyance. “Aren’t you just the sweetest man,” Laurie-Cate says. “And I didn’t realize you were having surgery tomorrow, you poor thing.”
“Yup, my good-luck streak still continues,” I tell her.
“Well, I’ll be sure to send a basket of goodies to your room for after your surgery. If you need anything, most of the staff at the hospital know who I am and they’ll reach out to me.”
“Thank you,” I tell her. “I appreciate your kindness.” After only knowing you for ten minutes. That sounded weird coming out of my mouth. I sound weird. I can feel myself sticking out like a sore thumb here. My God. I didn’t realize there were parts of this country that were so completely different from Boston.
“It was nice to meet you, Brendan. I hope to see you around, as well.” Laurie-Cate waves us off, smiling, before crossing her hands over her chest like a love-sick weirdo. Oh boy.
As Brenny and I make it through the lobby and out the back doors, I glance over at him. “You’re welcome for not telling her she was barking up the wrong tree.”
“Snookums,” he says to me. “You are on my very last nerve right now. Do you understand that?”
“I do understand, babykins.” We walk through the low-lit grassy area quietly, matching the silence of the nature around us. It’s eery. “How was your time with Austin? Are you two best friends now?”
“He bought me a beer,” Brenny says.
“You went into the bar with him?”
“You ran off, and he invited me in. I love you, Scarlett, but I am neither required, nor entitled to chase after you.”
“I didn’t ask you to run after me.”
“Oh, the irony of your name,” Brenny says.
“Before you go any further, I just got my one Scarlett joke for the day, so no need for you to continue.” He jokes about my name more than anyone else, but probably because he’s the only one I’ll let get away with it. He thinks it’s funny and has threatened to buy me a chaise lounge chair for me to fall onto when I’m in a mood. At least he can’t threaten that anymore, not with the itty-bitty amount of space we have to live in.
“Shut it.”
“Okay, time to lose the ‘tude. I’ve seriously had it today. I get you’re in pain, but I didn’t do this to you.”
“Yes, you did. ‘Let’s take a shortcut, Scar,’” I mock his earlier words.
“You could have said no,” he replies.
“Stupid me.”
“Seriously, just relax. Everything is going to be okay tomorrow. I promise.”
“You promised moving down here would be okay too,” I remind him.
“It’s going to be.” He unlocks our door and we walk into our tiny abode. We managed to set it up a bit before we ventured out on our trek through the wild earlier before I fell into a ditch, so at least the bed is set up and the pull out is made up. We have a folding wall, but I don’t think either of us feels the need to use it tonight. “Just so you know, I’m going to see about getting a job around here as soon as your settled. That way, once we both have some income, we can find a bigger place to live. We’ll make this work.”
“It’s hard to see past the cement walls at the moment,” I tell him.
“Well, try.”
“I’ll try,” I tell him.
“What can I help you with before you go to bed?”
“Nothing, I’m fine,” I tell him as I head into the bathroom.
“Okay, but before we go to bed, I’m going to tell you one thing you need to keep in mind. I can already see that everyone knows everyone in this town, so be careful who you act bitchy toward. I can almost promise you your reputation will follow you like a leech here.”
I know he’s right. I won’t be angry forever. I’m just in pain, anxious, and overwhelmed now, and I need a second to breathe. “Okay,” I tell him.
“I love you, Scar. It’s going to be okay.”
“I love you too, and you better be right, or we’re going to be in the world’s longest fight, Brendan.”
I close myself into the bathroom, quickly realizing how challenging this one-armed game is going to be. I struggle to just open my vanity bag so I can find my toothbrush and crap. I pull the bag up on the sink and hold one side open with my chin while I dig through everything that was kind of organized before we left home this morning. Once I find my toothbrush and toothpaste, I place them on the sink’s top and replace my bag down on the floor.
Episode One: Scarlett can no longer put toothpaste on her own toothbrush.
I refuse to be helpless. I place the toothbrush down on the thin edge of the sink and grab the tube of toothpaste. I manage to unscrew the top with my one hand, then squeeze the tube over the bristles.
I squeeze a little harder because the pressure from the plane evidently makes toothpaste sink to the bottom of the tube and turn into freaking cement. Or, it causes air bubbles, followed by an exploding burst of blue gel that knocks my toothbrush onto the toilet seat. “Oh, for fuck’s sake!” I shout.
“Scarlett?”
“No!”
“Scarlett … ”
* * *
Waking up without pain meds, the pressure from within the temporary splint is making me want to reach for a bottle of whiskey, but I don’t have that either. I was kind of hoping I’d open my eyes and find myself either back in my Boston apartment or maybe the beach. This need for a rewind button is prominent in my life. “You know what I was thinking?” Brenny says with a mouthful of toothpaste.
“That this was a horrible idea?”
“No. I was thinking when you’re feeling better after the surgery, maybe next weekend, we can go find a HomeGoods and spruce this place up a bit.”
“That’s what you’re thinking about?” I ask him as I push the piles of frizzy hair off my forehead.
“Yes. It’s something positive, and we need positive things right now, Scar.”
“Even though I can pretty much guarantee you that there is no HomeGoods around here, I’m having trouble thinking about anything past today,” I tell him. “Plus, HomeGoods doesn’t get me off like it does for you.”
I hear the spit hit the basin of the sink, followed by the water running for a second. I wrap my good arm over my forehead just as the sink turns off. Shoe-covered footsteps follow. He’s dressed and ready to throw me under the knife. Could he be more excited for the day? Brendan sits down on the edge of my bed and pulls my arm off my face. “Scarlett, look at me.”
He’s wearing a solid t-shirt and coral pink shorts. “I didn’t know you owned shorts.”
“I went shopping this past weekend. Boston attire doesn’t work here, silly.” He straightens his shirt over his shoulders then brushes off some non-existent dirt or dust from the crease of his pressed, cotton tee. “Listen, this is a routine procedure. You’ll be in and out of there in no time. Then we can hit the restart button and sink our feet into this neat little town.”
“Do you hear yourself?” I ask him. “I seriously feel like I’m living on Mars right now, Brendan. This isn’t just some fun move across the country. This is a whole different way of life, and I don’ know if I’m cut out for this.”
“It takes thirty days to adapt to big changes like this. Just give it a month and you’ll see. Things will be better,” he says. I won’t hold my breath or bother coming up with anything smart to respond with. I’m exhausted, and it’s hard keeping my eyes open to look at him. I don’t think I slept much last night with as many nightmares as I had about a psycho doctor using a chainsaw to cut off my arm. “Scar, do me one favor.”
“I did you one favor,” I grunt.
“Do me one more,” he continues.
“What?”
“Put a smile on your face? I miss your pretty
smile. It’s been like four days of misery and nerves. I get it, but please, I need my Scarlett back.”
I push the corner of my lips up into one corner. “That’s all you're getting.”
“Until you get painkillers. Then you’ll smile, I bet.”
“Doubt it,” I tell him.
“What are you wearing to the hospital?” he asks.
“Why does it matter? I have to put on one of those hideous blue gowns the second I get there.”
“Well, Austin will be there. I figured you might care about what you look like,” Brendan says with an inquiring hike in his brow.
“Even if I cared what he thought, nurses don’t scrub in on surgeries,” I tell him.
“Uh, yeah they do, Scar,” he responds. “How many episodes of Grey's Anatomy have we watched together, and you don’t know that there are nurses present during surgery?”
“Well, won’t I be naked?”
“First, before you take what I said to another degree of crazy, I don’t know if Austin is the type of nurse who assists with surgeries, and second, why would you be completely naked for wrist surgery? You think they’re just going to ogle you the whole time? You’re so conceited, Scarlett.” He’s joking, but it’s seriously not funny right now.
“How should I know?” I snap back.
“I think there are probably some kind of rules about that. Quit worrying.”
Wicked easy. I’ll just shut my thoughts off like a light switch.
CHAPTER TEN
Austin
“Waldo, where are you, boy?” This damn dog sneaks out the front door more times than I can say any woman ever has.
“Waldo!” I press my fingers to my lips and give a piercing whistle. There he is. Waldo jumps up over the growing corn stalks that I have told him to stay out of at least hundred times this week alone. He does not listen to a thing I say. “Get your damn ass over here.” He sprints toward me but not because I called. Nope, there’s a butterfly he’s chasing. What kind of manly dog chases a butterfly through corn stalks? My dog, of course. “You’re going to make me late, Waldo.”
Man Handler (Man Cave - A Standalone Collection Book 3) Page 8
