He snatched a bottle off the shelf and waved it at me. Nothing about smelling like a punnet of fruit appealed, but I felt sympathetic enough to let him continue his pitch. “We have vanilla too, but I have to be honest, it doesn’t taste anywhere near as good as it smells.”
“What about something more spicy, Wade?” I asked, trying to divert his attention from Ryan, whose body was shaking with silent chuckles. “How about something like sandalwood or patchouli?”
He pointed at me as he backed away. “Don’t go anywhere. I’ll check out the back.”
When he was gone, I picked up the fruity shampoo, unscrewed the lid and sniffed it. Ryan whispered, “How does it taste, Charli?”
I elbowed him in the ribs. “Shut up.”
“We could make a run for it while he’s gone.” He gave an upward nod toward the door.
I smirked. “I can’t run very fast these days.”
“I’ll carry you.”
I stepped away in case he decided to throw me over his shoulder. “Just be nice. Maybe you could use your fabulous business acumen to argue the price of shampoo with him. Get me a good deal.”
“I’m not going to argue anything with him,” he replied. “I refuse to have a battle of wits with an unarmed opponent.”
I was keen to get out of there too, before Jasmine returned. We walked out of the salon with two bottles of shampoo purchased out of pity, and headed back to the hardware store to collect our paint.
* * *
By the time we got back to the cottage, I was too tired to paint. Ryan didn’t try talking me round – it was a job he hadn’t been looking forward to in the first place.
“You should sleep,” he told me. “You don’t look good.”
Looking good wasn’t achievable these days, so I took no offense. I nodded and staggered toward my room.
Something caught my eye as I passed Ryan’s room. The window was wide open and the lightweight curtains were flapping in the breeze.
I called Ryan in. “Did you leave the window open?”
He slammed it shut. “I don’t think so,” he replied casually. “Maybe I did.”
I didn’t feel right. “Remember what I told you about snakes?”
I’d made a joke of it but it wasn’t funny. It was getting harder to put the strange goings-on in the cottage down to forgetfulness. It unnerved me.
“I’ll make sure it’s locked in future.” He studied me. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
“Yeah. Just tired.”
* * *
I still felt a little off the next day, but I wasn’t expecting to feel a hundred percent until I could see my toes again. Figuring I was as recharged as I could be, we made a start on the nursery.
Painting walls with Ryan was akin to doing a craft activity with a preschooler. When he’d told me he had no idea what he was doing, he truly meant it. “So what am I supposed to do with this?” he asked, waving the paint-loaded roller at me.
“Roll it on the wall,” I said, slowly and carefully.
He glided the roller down the wall, leaving a patchy lilac streak. “Oh, look at that,” he marvelled. “It’s like magic.”
“You’re hopeless,” I teased. “Adam would’ve finished that wall by now.”
Ryan grinned at me. “I’d be perfectly happy to call him in to finish the job. I’d love to step aside.”
It dawned on me that he was talking about something much more important than the wall.
“That’s why you’re still here, isn’t it?” I asked, thinking out loud. “Because he’s not.”
Ryan placed the roller in the tray on the floor, picked up a rag and began wiping his hands. “He would want me to make sure you’re looked after.”
A sarcastic laugh tumbled out of my mouth. “Have you met Alex? Trust me, I’m well taken care of. You’re free to go any time.”
“Charli,” he pointed at my belly, “when I first found out about this, I thought it was madness – a ridiculous life-altering mess you’d created.”
His words caused physical pain. I could feel a headache coming on. I put my hands to the side of my head, massaging my temples.
“But I get it now,” he continued. “And I’m enjoying being here, for both of you.”
“So stay,” I muttered.
“It’s not that simple. I’m not supposed to be the one experiencing this. Adam should be here. I shouldn’t be the one painting his kid’s nursery. Don’t you see how wrong that is?”
I’d reached the end of the line where Ryan was concerned. He wasn’t prepared to keep my secret any longer.
“You’re going to tell him, aren’t you?”
“Yes.” He didn’t look the least bit apologetic.
“When?” I whispered out the question and continued rubbing my temple.
“I booked my flight this morning,” he told me. “I leave the day after tomorrow, which gives you a day or two to call him. If he doesn’t know by the time I get home, I’m going to tell him everything.”
“An ultimatum, Ryan?” I asked acidly. “You’re really going to do that to me?”
“He needs to know, Charli. Every single day that passes is another day he misses out on.”
I didn’t have the strength to argue with him. I was having trouble finding the strength to remain standing. “I need to sit down,” I mumbled.
Ryan lurched forward, making a grab for me. “What’s the matter?”
“I don’t feel well.”
“Come, sit,” he said, guiding me out of the room to the couch. “What do you need?” he asked.
“Nothing.”
“Are you mad at me?”
I huffed out an almost-laugh. “Since when have you cared whether I’m mad at you or not?”
A smile crept across his face. “Since never,” he conceded. “But I don’t want you to be upset about this. Adam is my brother. I want him to know, and I think now is the time.”
I nodded, admitting defeat. There was nothing I could say to change his mind – and I wasn’t sure I wanted to. No good can come from keeping secrets, especially the one I was holding.
June 27
Adam
I didn’t hear from Trieste for over a week. I’d held off calling her because I had no idea what to say, and I’d stayed away from Billet-doux for the same reason. When she finally did call me, I was over the moon.
“Can you meet me in the park at ten?” It sounded more like a demand than a request.
“Of course.” I would’ve agreed to meet her anywhere.
“Don’t be late, Adam,” she warned. “If you’re one minute late, I’m leaving.”
“I’ll be there,” I promised.
I got there half an hour early, armed with coffee. Trieste wasn’t impressed. She stomped down the sidewalk in her Doc Martin boots like she was heading to a fight.
“Do you come in peace?” I asked.
“I’m so mad at you right now,” she growled. “How dare you threaten Felix like that?”
I thought back to my conversation with the jerk in question. I didn’t remember threatening him but couldn’t rule out that I had.
She flopped beside me on the bench, folding her arms. I tried to butter her up by offering her a now cold cup of coffee. She shook her head. “Come on, Trieste,” I urged. “It cost me five bucks.”
She took the cup. “Why did you do it? You knew how much I liked him. Ryan doesn’t care if his employees date each other.”
I’d wondered what excuse Felix had spun her. He’d obviously decided against the date-rape-is-illegal angle and gone with blaming me instead.
“He’s a fool, Trieste.”
“Well, I’ll never get a chance to find that out for myself now, will I?”
“I didn’t make him call it off because you’re co-workers,” I explained. “In the beginning, I was all for him taking you out. I even asked him to. It wasn’t until he wanted me to pay him to do it that I realised he was a dick. When I heard that he’d asked you out anyway, I k
new his intentions weren’t good. I don’t want you to get hurt.”
“Pay him?” she gasped, horrified.
Obviously that was too much information. Whoever said that honesty was the best policy had never dealt with Trieste.
“I refused.”
“Oh,” she snarled, slapping a hand on her knee. “That makes all the difference.”
“I’m sorry,” I said.
“You’re an idiot!” The words roared out of her. A couple passing by spun back to look at us – so did the Shih Tzu they were walking. “You actually asked him to take me out?”
“As soon as he mentioned money I backed off. It was a stupid idea.”
She pointed at me. “You had no business interfering. What is it that makes you think you can manipulate a situation to make it go your way?”
It was probably the most vicious question I’d ever been asked – and it proved that Trieste had me completely figured out. Manipulation was my preferred approach when it came to getting my own way. Trying to convince Felix to date her was only a small example. I’d done far worse in the past, and Charli had borne the brunt of it.
I could look back now and see that it had all been for nothing. I’d won nothing other than a life that I no longer wanted.
“You should be focusing on your own life, which at the moment is a complete wreck,” she barked.
“I know that,” I mumbled.
There was no denying it. My current life sucked. If I died and went to hell, it would take me a week to realise I was there.
“You’re the worst friend I’ve ever had,” she complained.
I folded my arms and leaned back, feigning indifference. “In fairness, I never claimed to be a good one.”
My bad attitude tore open a floodgate. Every little bit of frustration I’d subjected her to over the months came rushing out. “Some days I have no idea why I bother with you.” She held out her hand and started ticking off on her fingers. “You’re mean. You’re unreliable. You’re arrogant –”
“Okay, okay. I get it,” I interrupted. “I have nothing going for me.”
“You always smell good,” she grumbled. “That’s about it.”
“Thanks, I think.”
Trieste twisted on the seat, angling toward me. “You have a disease, Adam. You’re an ass.”
“Being an ass is a disease?” I asked.
“Being an ass is a symptom. Regret is the disease.”
“Thank you, Doctor Kincaid,” I muttered.
She softened only slightly. “I’m sure you weren’t always this way, Adam. You need to find a way of turning things around.”
I couldn’t refute a single word she’d said. I hadn’t always been this way, but feared I was too far gone to find my way back.
“This is it for me, Trieste.” I waved my arms around. “This is what I chose.”
“Then you chose wrong, didn’t you?”
“Yes,” I agreed.
I’d known it for a long time but you reap what you sow.
“You’re a recent law graduate with a judicial clerkship lined up. You’re supposed to be flying high right now. Why do you keep delaying your clerkship?”
I stared at her for a long time before answering. “Because I’m not sure I want it.”
“Your heart’s not in it any more, dummy.” She tapped the side of her head. “Where is your heart?”
“With Charlotte.” That answer came much easier.
“Right. So what are you going to do about it?” I couldn’t have answered if I wanted to. She jumped in again. “You’re going to go to her and beg for forgiveness.”
“It’s not that simple.”
“Go to her, stupid,” she growled. “At least give it a shot. The way I see it, you’ve got nothing to lose.”
I shook my head at the hopelessness of it all. “I talked Charli into doing something irreversible. How will telling her that I regret it serve as anything other than another kick in the head?”
Trieste thumped my arm. “You’re looking for excuses not to man-up and go. You’re such a loser, Adam.”
“I am.” I puffed out a quick laugh, leaned over and planted a kiss on her cheek. “I’m sorry for being such a stupid-dummy-idiot-loser.”
“Get your act together and sort yourself out,” she instructed. “Then we’ll talk forgiveness.”
* * *
I parted ways with Trieste at the entrance to the park and walked the short journey home. I’d just arrived when I received a call from my father’s PA. Tennille instructed me to be at my parents’ house no later than eight the next evening. He’d teed up dinner with Judge Lassiter, just as he’d threatened to.
“Mr Décarie has requested that you make sure you’re on time and come without attitude.” It sounded like she was reading off a list. Jean-Luc’s instructions were very clear. It pissed me off that he hadn’t taken the time to call and tell me them himself.
“I’ll keep it in mind,” I said dully. “Thanks Tennille.” I hung up on her then, Ryan style.
Another call came a few minutes later. When I read the number on the screen, I considered letting it go to voicemail. But ignoring her was pointless. She’d only keep calling until I answered.
“Hello mother.”
“Darling, how are you?”
She didn’t give me a chance to reply. She launched into her list of instructions for the upcoming dinner, as if I needed coaching on how to behave. At least she’d taken the time to call me herself. I paced the living room, grunting in acknowledgement every time she paused for breath.
Ridiculously, it might have been the first time I realised just how under the thumb I was. Epic organisation and structure had played a huge part in my life for as long as I could remember. The only time that ever changed was when Charli was around.
Something in my thick head finally clicked. I’d been desperately unhappy for a long time, accepting the misery because I was hell-bent on punishing myself. If I continued to do what I’d always done, I was only ever going to get what I always got.
I was just about to grow a spine and tell my mother of my epiphany when the universe threw me a sign that I was on the right track. I turned around just in time to see the Pipers Cove canvas fall off the wall and crash to the floor. If Ryan had hung it, I would’ve put it down to shoddy workmanship – but I’d hung it, so I put it down to magic.
I stood with the phone to my ear, staring at the blank wall.
“Adam? Are you still there? Adam? Hello?”
“I’m here, Mom.” I muttered. “I’ll call you back.”
I dropped the phone on the couch and stood staring at the wall, weighing up my options.
I only had one.
I had to get out of New York. I was done with mediocrity. I was going to follow my heart, and she lived in the tiny Tasmanian town that had just crashed to the floor.
* * *
Charli once told me that getting out of Dodge is an act that must be done quickly. I ran around the apartment like a lunatic, packing.
I couldn’t explain the urgency. I just had an overwhelming belief that I needed to get out quickly, which was strange considering I’d spent months having trouble getting out of bed in the morning.
I booked a ticket online, hailed a cab and made a detour to my parents’ place on the way to the airport. I wasn’t planning on coming back any time soon. The least I could do was tell them.
As luck would have it, Mom was arriving home just as I got there. I didn’t even need to go upstairs. I told the driver to wait and called out to her as she got to the door.
“Darling!” She looked surprised. “What are you doing here?”
“I need to talk to you,” I said. I took her bags and led her to the small sofa near the elevator.
“What is it?” she repeated, catching my urgency.
I sat down beside her and grabbed her hand, just in case she freaked out and decided to take a swipe at me, then laid out my half-baked plan.
“We hav
e dinner plans tomorrow night,” she reminded me.
“Mom, did you hear anything I just said?”
“Yes of course.”
“I’m not coming back,” I reiterated.
“I’m thrilled that you’re willing to work things out with Charli, but you must prioritise,” she said gently. “You’re due to sit your exam soon. Perhaps you should delay your trip until then. Charli will understand.”
I was shaking my head before she’d even finished speaking. “I’m not sitting the exam, Mom.”
“This will kill your father, Adam,” she warned, finally showing a hint of displeasure.
“He’ll get over it,” I promised.
“But you’ve worked so hard.”
Arguing the point wasn’t difficult. “I’ve worked hard for years on the wrong thing. If I’d put the same effort into my life with Charli, things would’ve been so much different for us,” I explained. “We’re owed a happy ending. I’m not going to find it here.”
“You’re going to give up everything you’ve worked for?” she asked dubiously.
I grinned at her. “She’s my other half, Ma. No matter what I have or what I do, if she’s not with me, I have nothing.”
Every bit of concern left my mother’s expression. She looked as calm as I’d ever seen her. Confident that she wouldn’t smack me, I let go of her hand.
She reached across, taking my face in her hands. “Then you should go,” she encouraged, smiling at me.
Her about-face astounded me. I wasn’t actually sure I trusted it.
“Really? What about Dad?”
She dropped her hands to her lap. “I’ll tell Jean-Luc,” she promised. “I’ll make him understand.”
“Will you do one more thing for me? Will you pack the rest of my things and courier them to Gabrielle’s cottage in Pipers Cove? It has to be done today.”
“Alright, but what’s the hurry?”
I had no idea. All I knew is that it had to be done that day. “Please. Today.”
“I’ll go to the apartment and do it now.”
“Thank you,” I breathed.
She took my hand. “You’re a good man, my son,” she said in French.
“I will be,” I replied confidently.
* * *
Storm Shells Page 24
