Honeytrap

by Crystal Green

  “Was he even at a conference?” I barely got the question out of my swelling throat.

  “He was. I was supposed to go instead, but Micah volunteered to do it the other night, thinking I might like more time with Henry and Lucille. Deacon and I figured Micah could use the education, so . . .”

  Darwin was dying to leave, and I couldn’t open the envelope with him around, so I thanked him and made my way out of the shop. I went to my truck and drove off, but I didn’t get far.

  I pulled to the side of the road, long grass waving at me in what seemed like a sad good-bye. Still, I couldn’t open up that letter.

  Not until my phone dinged again.

  But when I looked at the screen, it wasn’t Micah. It was Evie checking on me.

  The only thing Micah had to say to me was in this letter.

  I forced my fingers to tear into the envelope, coming out with one page that had a few blocks of carefully printed words on it.

  Shelby,

  I meant everything I said to you. I love you with every breath I take. But I also meant it when I said Rex was right. You’re going to have big things happen to you, and that doesn’t include hanging around a person who will always disappoint you. I saw how much I did that the other night, and I can’t shake it off.

  I’m sorry I got you caught in a trap just because it amused me at first. You made me see what a destructive shit I am. In a way, you saved me and showed me what I need to fix in my life, and not just in a repair shop. But you shouldn’t have to wait around for any kind of fixing. You should be at college, living the life you deserve.

  Don’t try to talk me into anything different. You’re better off. You’ll get older and thank God for the day I left, believe me.

  And that’s where the letter stopped, like he didn’t know how to close it out. He didn’t even sign his name, but I saw it floating before my eyes on the paper as I stared at it.

  Micah.

  As I crumpled the paper up and threw it to the floor, I tried to forget his name. But with every weak, dying beat of my heart, I knew that it was going to be the only name that ever mattered to me.

  ***

  When a big part of your world—the reason you get up in the morning all excited, the person you look most forward to seeing—gets taken away, the color washes out from everything. Food doesn’t taste as good, and it feels like the air has enough weight to take the place of the humidity.

  That’s how the rest of the summer went for me, dragging by while rushing to its end at the same time. Rex had stayed up at college for his football stuff, rooming with a teammate while prepping for the upcoming season as their great hope of the future. Back here in Aidan Falls, his crew ignored me without him around to goose them.

  I did have a few bright spots in life, though, and one of them found me on a weekday at the Ritz, as I tweeted on the theater’s account about fun, evil factoids from Rosemary’s Baby that might appeal to all the Goth-loving nerds and scary art movie lovers in town. Maybe even from out of town.

  When Mom and Mr. Carmichael walked into the office, they both had barely restrained smiles that I was too dulled-out to feel. Something was up.

  “Ready to go back to Texas-U soon?” Mom asked, her short blond hair windblown. Ever since Micah had left town, we’d been walking on eggshells less with each other, so I could be grateful for that. She didn’t even seem to suspect that I knew about her pregnancy, so that was a blessing, too. And since I’d lost my scholarship, we’d even pulled together enough money for tuition and off-campus housing. I was going to live with a couple of out-of-state roommates I’d found online in a college apartment community. I was still searching for scholarships and other resources. Never say die, right?

  But without Micah, I felt aimless, like I was just moving to another location, marking time.

  Still, I smiled. “I’m definitely ready.”

  Mom nodded at Mr. Carmichael.

  I hadn’t noticed that he had a hand behind his back until he presented me with a certificate. It was homemade and had fancy lettering. My name was written in bold.

  First Carmichael Scholarship, it said. Presented to Shelby Carson, Businesswoman of the Future.

  Surprised joy rose in me like a party balloon as I held the paper to my chest. For the first time in weeks, I did smile.

  Mr. Carmichael went on. “You’ve been working your tail off for me, Shelby, and not even for a penny.”

  “I wanted to,” I said.

  “I know you did, and I’m expressing my appreciation.” His teeth gleamed. “I never did have a daughter or granddaughter, and after Bonita died . . . Well, I had the Ritz. It’s been my hobby, my delight, even though I never did bring in much money with it. But over the years, I haven’t been too bad about living off investment dividends and the savings Bonita and I put away, so an old man needs things to spend his cash on. I’d like to invest in you, Shelby, but on one condition.”

  I was so moved that I pressed my lips together to keep my bottom one from trembling. Mom was touched, too, her eyes glassy with tears.

  After I got myself together, I said, “Just name your condition, Mr. C.”

  “All right. I’d like you to spend a little time here and there with this social media stuff for the Ritz, and that way, you’ll maintain this scholarship. Sound like a deal?”

  I jumped out of the seat to hug him, and Mom joined in. Later, when I told Evie and Jadyn about my stroke of luck, they hugged me just as hard, seeing how this good news had pulled me up by the bootstraps and out of the darkness I’d been in lately.

  But even through the light, Micah never left me, because he would’ve celebrated with me if he were here, would’ve been proud of me.

  Even so, all there was to do was move on, just as Mom had done after she’d gotten pregnant with me, just as Mr. Carmichael had managed after his wife’s death. Just as I supposed everyone did after they’d reached their lowest.

  If I could only get through a day when I didn’t see something that reminded me of Micah, like the balcony of the Ritz. Or the road that ran past the twins’ house. Or, dammit, even my own room, where we’d spent the nights together, happier than I’d ever been.

  Worst of all, every time I looked in my rearview mirror, I expected to see Micah, but all I got was his ghost, watching me with that cocky smile, fading away before I could turn around and speed back to him.

  23

  Fall hadn’t quite shaken off summer when Jadyn came up to visit me in my new off-campus apartment.

  My two new roommates were visiting their families in Tulsa and Santa Fe this weekend, so Jadyn and I were eating breakfast alone at a little all-night diner I’d adopted as a studying hovel. Since I’d been hitting the books like no one’s business, intent on acing my classes, they knew me and my sweet-tea habits well.

  In this diner, where they had black-and-white photos of vintage cars on the walls and played music from the ’50s, I buried myself. I studied and tried to forget that I’d never heard from Micah again. I tried to pack my heart into financial accounting and financial strategies and general ed classes, just like I was putting myself in a type of storage where I wouldn’t feel all the cuts and deep bruises he’d left.

  I’d stopped being needy with guys. I’d learned my lesson that it caused too much anguish. But every time I looked at one of those old car pictures on the diner’s wall, I saw Micah bent over the hood of one of his lost-cause cars, the light brushing over his tanned skin and his dark blond hair, his head raised to watch me as he smiled.

  As Jadyn and I looked at our laminated menus, I struggled not to remember Micah or the days of summer Jadyn reminded me of. Yesterday, when she and I had met on campus, walking around and talking about what life would be like when she transferred here from community college next year, I’d numbed myself to the memories. I’d done an even better job of that last night, when we’d
kicked back in the apartment, drinking beer that one of my older roommates, Thuy, had bought for me.

  Jadyn was looking at me from across the Formica-topped table with reddened hangover eyes. It turned out that I could hold my liquor way more efficiently than she could, so I was in pretty good shape.

  “Remind me never to drink again,” she said, resting her elbow on the table and planting her head in her hand.

  “Tell that to Evie.” We’d Skyped with her last night as she drank with us.

  Jadyn smiled. “I can’t wait until she gets back for the holidays. It’s just too bad she’s across the country and can’t room with us here next year.”

  But as fast as that smile had come, it ended. The only reason Jadyn was able to leave Aidan Falls for Texas-U was because her great uncle had passed away a month ago from a heart attack. It’d been sudden and swift, leaving her with no real family, just friends like me and Evie to console her before we’d gone away to college.

  I touched her arm, and she offered me a different, glummer smile that told me she was trying to put her own loss behind her.

  We must’ve looked like the saddest table in history, because Nancy, my favorite waitress, came over with two plates of cherry popovers, sliding them in front of us. Then she plucked the pencil out of her gray bun and prepared to write on her order pad.

  “These are on the house,” she said. “I’m not sure how good it is as hangover food, but if you don’t mind me saying, eggs would be better. If you have a hangover, that is.”

  She gave Jadyn a pointed look.

  We thanked her for the offering, but she shook her head. “The sweets aren’t on me.” With a sly nod, she indicated a guy sitting at the counter, surrounded by his laptop, an iPad, and a plate stacked with waffles, plus coffee. He had short black hair, blue eyes, and cheeks that were flushed pink. Very cute.

  But he wasn’t Micah.

  He glanced up and smiled, and I smiled back in appreciation, lowering my head and turning around to face Jadyn. She lifted an eyebrow at me as Nancy whispered.

  “When’re you gonna give that poor kid a chance?”

  I pushed the menu toward her, pointing to the egg scramble special. “I’m too busy for that stuff, Nancy.”

  “So you say.” She glanced at Jadyn. “The Shut Down Queen. That’s what they call your friend around here because she attracts attention but never gives a fellow a chance. I keep telling her that she’s too pretty to wither away like a wallflower.”

  Nancy had no idea about Micah, and how he’d made me color up and open to the sun until darkness had descended without him.

  “She’ll come around,” Jadyn said in the most chipper voice she could muster for a hangover.

  She ordered another egg scramble special, and when Nancy left, she hunkered over the table, leaning toward me, her hazel eyes clearer now.

  “I wish you’d get over Micah,” she said.

  I didn’t want to talk about him. “I’m fine.”

  “Fine, my foot. It looks like you never see the light of day. You’re either stuck in the library or in your books all the time. Do you ever go out and meet people?”

  “I hang with my roommates, sure. But I promised myself that I’m not going to let my grades slip again. I owe at least that much to Mr. Carmichael and Mom.”

  Jadyn picked up a fork to poke at a popover. “You know how you found me at the beginning of the summer? How I was pretty much just floating around my job and slinking through the market, hoping no one noticed me?”

  Was she saying I was like that now?

  Maybe I was. My new roommates had no basis for comparison, but I could tell they felt sorry for me sometimes, studying so much, being so anti-social with everyone but them. I didn’t want Iris and Thuy to think I didn’t enjoy their company, so I did as much with them as I could, cooking dinners together, watching our favorite shows on TV. But I knew I could do better.

  Jadyn was right. I wasn’t exactly wearing the kind of drab, God-I-hope-no-one-notices-me clothes she’d been wearing, but I was gray inside without Micah.

  I dug into a popover, smiling in understanding at her, and she smiled back, giving in to her appetite, too. She finished before I did, but the whole time, I noticed that she kept glancing toward the guy at the counter.

  Finally, I rolled my eyes at her. “Talk to him already, would you?”

  “He was hitting on you, Shelby.”

  “He sent the popovers to both of us.” I waggled my eyebrows, encouraging her.

  But she only smiled, as if she was thinking hard about doing it.

  I finished my popover, happy that there was a good chance that she’d move on soon.

  Wishing I could do the same.

  ***

  After that weekend, I made more of an effort to get out, so I joined the Investment Club and went to more parties.

  But nothing filled that empty space Micah had occupied for a short but intense time.

  How long would the hole be there? Nothing seemed to make it go away—not food (as if I had the stomach for much) or school (even though I was kicking ass in every class) or talking with my best friends whenever I could (yay for conference calling on Skype).

  I even rejoined ParlorFly, but not as Lana Peyton. I used my own name this time, thinking that I might find another Micah somewhere, sometime.

  Of course, that didn’t happen. Any guy I chatted with didn’t make me laugh like Micah had. They didn’t send tingles through me or make me melt at the thought of his touch.

  So I went to class, sending e-mails to Mom and Mr. Carmichael with interesting tidbits I was learning. I also kept up with improving social media for both of them, and they said they’d noticed an uptick in business. Mom even put together those new local beer and wine lists so I could market the hell out of them.

  Everyone was moving on.

  Today, leaves were falling in muted colors over the campus as I sat on a concrete bench near the business building. I had a break between Cultural Anthropology and Ancient Classics, so I figured it’d be a good time to look over some lit notes so I could be as on the ball as possible with Professor Samson. He gave out points for class participation, scribbling on his seating chart, and I wanted all I could get.

  I had my laptop with me—a gift from Mr. Carmichael, who’d told me it would make my work for him easier—and my notes were on there. I glossed over them, file by file, until the ParlorFly icon at the bottom of my screen expanded, blipping, telling me that someone wanted me to chat.

  WiserGuy: Are you on?

  10:26am

  I didn’t recognize the screen name, but it could’ve been anyone I’d recently accepted into my parlor. And since Jadyn and Evie would want me to get out there and meet new people, I responded, even though my heart wasn’t in it.

  ShelbyC: I’m on. Who’s this?

  10:28am

  WiserGuy: Er . . . WiserGuy?

  10:28am

  God, if this was Rex under a different name, improving his grammar and giving me crap again, I was going to scream. He hadn’t bugged me since I’d blocked his number from my phone, and I’d been hopeful that my presence on ParlorFly had escaped his attention. Since he was in the middle of football season, shouldn’t he be concentrating on that? After all, he was the backup quarterback now and rising fast, threatening our struggling starter. Also, I’d heard he was dating half the cheer squad, like he was showing everyone that he wasn’t a one-woman man anymore and he could please as many chicks as were available.

  Just as I decided to cut off the chat, another message came through.

  WiserGuy: Shel, get your head out of damn cyberspace and look around.

  10:29am

  He . . . knew my name?

  As my pulse flittered in both fear and excitement, I slowly looked up from the computer. Even before I saw him, I knew.

  M
icah, standing under an oak tree, holding his phone. Sunlight came in pieces through the leaves, dappling him with gold. He had his hair tied back, just like the first time I’d seen him, and he was dressed in his usual bad-boy uniform of a T-shirt, jeans, and work boots.

  But there was something different about him, too. It was in the way he looked at me with nervous expectancy.

  When I didn’t react, he fisted one hand, using his other to shove his phone into his pocket. Meanwhile, my body shattered, pieces of emotion flying through me, cutting on their way down and making every wound he’d left bleed again.

  Why the hell had he come back if he’d abandoned me without anything but a Dear John letter?

  I shut my computer, my survival instinct telling me to leave, that I’d moved on and didn’t need him to be inflicting any more damage on me. But I had to hear what he wanted to say, even if I wasn’t going to run to him and hang on his every word.

  His walk was deliberate, bringing him to me with heart-stomping inevitability.

  “Shelby,” he said.

  “That was real cute, Micah. Did you think you’d charm me with that opening?”

  “No.”

  I was nearly blinded by feeling, by the cold and hot thrusts of adrenaline through my veins. I couldn’t look at him, because I was afraid that, if I did, he’d have me once again.

  “I’m not playing this game,” I said. “You left without giving me a chance to talk things out with you. Didn’t I deserve to have a say?”

  “I’ve been dealing with my dad, Shel, and getting all my other shit together.”

  I slumped on the bench. Micah stayed standing, looking more awkward than I’d ever seen him. I didn’t know he was capable of being awkward.

  He lifted his hands in surrender. “That’s no excuse for leaving you like I did, but I thought I was doing the right thing for everyone, especially you. I thought you could go on to greener pastures, like you were always meant to, and you’d fall in with your college friends and date all the guys who no doubt fall at your feet every day. I didn’t think I could live up to that once you got back here and saw what you were missing. So I took care of my own heart before you broke it.”