by Clover Hart
“Now that the town is in danger of losing FCT,” I say, “I’ve started to think that tech could be a good thing. Cherry Valley could use the revenue, and a startup could attract other businesses that’ll help with the economy.”
He sits up, the sheet gathering below the happy trail on his belly. I sit up, too, propping up a pillow and leaning against it as I go on.
“The infrastructure and schools need help,” I say. “And maybe, just maybe, the people in this town could stand to have their horizons expanded a little. Kind of like I did.” I smile, assessing him.
“Are you giving me a pep talk for my face-off with Barry?” he asks.
“Maybe.”
“And you’re doing it just because you care about Cherry Valley …?”
Is he fishing for more than that? “I do love this town.”
But I think he isn’t asking me to only fess up to my love of Cherry Valley. Does he want me to admit something else? Maybe even about him?
God, I can’t tell him what I’m feeling, because what if he never does come back?
I don’t want to think about that. Time to put this thing back in the comfort zone.
I pull the sheet over my chest and sock him lightly in the arm. “Come on, you know I don’t want you to go anywhere either.”
He just looks at me, and my pulse twists. But then he smiles and pulls me onto his lap. I gasp at the feel of him beneath me.
He slides his hands under my ass. “Why the hell would you want me to go anywhere when we’re having this much fun?”
And when he urges me forward for a kiss, the hum between my legs agrees.
Fun is all we can afford right now.
Zach takes off for San Francisco the next morning, and I already miss him, but I’ve been mulling over this.
I might know of a way to get him to stay here, and I’ve already gotten a good start on it when I walk into my sister’s curio shop.
As she finishes ringing up the tourists who’re buying cooking aprons with dancing cherries on them, I stroll the aisles of The Curio Cupboard, poking at the stained-glass cherry mobiles, the cherry stuffed animals, and then the quirky metalwork and strange wood sculptures from our local artists. I’m coming down the winery-themed aisle when the tourists leave, giving me room to lean on the counter just before Penny quickly shoos me off of it.
“You’re not working today,” she says.
“It’s my day off.”
She sits down on the swinging patchwork chair that’s displayed behind the counter, and even though the geegaw is as country as you can get, Penny is all faux city. With her straight, sleek red hair, a bit of makeup that brings out her big blue-green eyes, and the poor man’s version of a sophisticated jersey dress she’s wearing, she aspires to be a Marloe woman. Mom and Dad don’t even buy her roughly polished act, because she has to go through the third degree about her boyfriends like I’ve been getting about Zach. They know her track record is quite a bit shittier than mine.
I cross my arms over my chest. “I’m here because I’m working on a thing.”
“And it’s supposedly a very cute thing who flew back to San Francisco this morning. Or so I’ve heard.”
She’s sore because I didn’t confide in her about Zach like she constantly confides in me about her romantic issues, but she gets over it quickly.
“Word also has it that you contacted Jackie Coronado this morning,” she says. “Why would you want to talk to the president of our Chamber of Commerce?”
“That’s exactly why I’m here. I wanted to ask you something before she stops in to see you.”
Now Penny is intrigued. “What do you have up your sleeve, Mandy?”
“I’ve asked Jackie to set up some phone conferences for Zach and Full Circle. It’d be great if the businesses here could get serious about wooing FCT and finding some common ground with them instead of just sitting back and seeing if they’ll definitely locate here. We’ve got too much to lose if another locale catches their eye.”
Barry wanted more from Cherry Valley? I’m going to make sure he gets it.
Penny watches me carefully. “I’m impressed with your zeal for the community.”
I guess it’s finally showing. For the first time, I can see a horizon spreading in front of me, because if FCT came here, there’d be so many opportunities.
And there’d be Zach.
I smile. “Both FCT and the businesses in this town would benefit from their being here. You know that as well as I do.”
“Do you know something about the status of FCT that no one else does?”
And this is where I flat-out lie, because I don’t want to let anyone know that Barry is fighting the move. “I know nothing. But the sooner we make them feel like a part of the community, the better. Would you consider conferencing with Zach, too? And maybe persuading all the influential people to go along with you?”
“Sure, but is he coming back into town for a face-to-face?”
In other words, are you boyfriend and girlfriend?
I duck and weave. “He would if it’s worth his time.”
Penny pauses, then says, “Well, I would do this, except …”
I frown.
She glances around the empty store, then a smile lights up every bit of her. “I might have a job offer on my plate.”
Huh?
Penny gets up from the swing chair. “I’ve been talking to someone I met online, on some professional women’s boards. She’s from Chicago and she’s looking for someone to helm the human resources department for her business.”
“Whoa, Penny. You only went to community college for two years.”
“But I have business experience in this shop.”
Just because Zach has broadened my horizons doesn’t mean I’m all Three cheers to losing my sister to the big world!
But Penny grew up with posters of Paris and London and Los Angeles on her walls. She’s wanted to bust out of this town to see that world, unlike me, who’s Cherry Valley all the way.
“I didn’t mean so say that you’re completely unqualified,” I tell her. “It’s just … what about this shop?”
“I might sell it. And I’d visit Cherry Valley often. You know I would.” She shrugs. “I’d love to show my exes that I’ve moved past them in such a big way.”
“Exes?” I ask. “Does that include Robert?”
At the mention of the delivery guy I know she’s still dating, Penny goes into full avoidance mode. She clears her throat, and now she’s the one crossing her arms over her chest. “Promise you won’t tell Mom and Dad about this job thing. It’s nowhere near a done deal.”
I can’t dwell on Robert, because little by little, it’s seeping into me that my sister might be leaving.
I clear my throat, then say, “They’ll be heartbroken, Penny.”
We stare at each other for a moment before she comes out from behind the counter and I go to her, my big sis. The one who slept in the top bunk and said that if any of the jerk boys in my class bothered me, she’d smack them down.
The one who’s always had a horizon in front of her while mine threatens to shrink before it expands all the way.
As we hug, I don’t have to tell her that my parents won’t be the only heartbroken people in Cherry Valley.
Chapter 24
Mandy
Zach has been texting me every day since he left, and he keeps telling me that he misses being here. Misses me.
I read those texts over and over, smiling to myself at work and school. We haven’t Skyped or called as we’ve done in the past, but I’m not bothered. Really, I’m not. Zach is obviously super busy with Barry and the fight for Cherry Valley, and I need to give him room to maneuver so he can get himself back here.
I also need to keep telling myself that he isn’t Matthew, and just because Zach’s not here with me doesn’t mean he’s another out-of-towner who’ll never come back.
Zach is just busy, that’s all.
This morning I
go into work as I always do, settling behind the counter with the laptop he gave me. I stroke my hand over it, smiling before I turn it on.
Zach is coming back. I know he is, and he’ll be bringing Full Circle with him.
As Martina McBride plays on the sound system, I sip my black coffee, wishing I could look up and see Zach working at the table across the shop again. Instead, I spot a tourist there playing around on his phone, and I sigh.
Under the counter, my phone dings with a text, and I grab it, holding my breath.
It’s not Zach.
Abby: Just went live with my What-Say-You Wednesday. Brace yourself for the scathing comments.
Mandy: ???
Abby: Zach didn’t tell you?
Normally, I’d think that something good is about to happen because it’s being reported on Abby’s blog as a scoop. Is it an official announcement about FCT moving here?
But why wouldn’t Zach tell me first?
I don’t answer Abby’s text. Instead, I go straight to her Cherry Valley blog and push aside my cup of coffee as I read past her introduction and into the meat of her story.
Well, folks, I’ve got good news for the people who were hauling around pitchforks and torches at the possibility of Full Circle Technologies moving to little Cherry Valley. But it’s bad news for those who were hoping there’d be an influx of money, jobs, and improvements that come with a big new business putting down roots.
I’ve learned that FCT won’t be bringing their nerdy influence to this town after all.
The screen blurs in front of me, but I blink, feeling nothing. I reread that last line, but it still isn’t sinking in.
Even so, I go on, Abby’s usual perkiness becoming more subdued.
The company has received a very handsome offer from a venture capitalist, Franklin Funding, and the terms stipulate that FCT must operate out of another valley — as in Silicon, not Cherry.
Full Circle’s spokesperson, Zach Hamilton, commented, “As much as I love Cherry Valley, we have an offer we can’t refuse. Silicon Valley is the tech capital of the world, and this is where FCT belongs.”
I hear some kind of wounded sound then realize that it came from me.
Zach didn’t tell me? And he’ll never be back?
The tourist sitting at Zach’s old table glances at me. All I can do is numbly look back at him. Stunned tears push at me, my throat filled with sharp heat, but I’m not going to cry.
I didn’t cry the day Matthew left town without more than a We had a good time, didn’t we? I cried later. I’m definitely not doing it now, because this can’t be right about FCT not moving here.
I sit there for a moment, then realize that I might’ve misread Abby’s piece. Because Zach would’ve told me this news before going to her and having her announce it, right?
More optimistic now, I read Abby’s blog again, but the words are still the same. The longer I look at them, the more they sink in.
FCT isn’t coming here, and Zach didn’t say a word about it to me.
I stand from my chair and turn my back to the room, staring at the coffee equipment. The music is white searing noise in my head. The truth is falling down on me like bits of the sky. Everything around me goes dark. The more time that passes, the darker things get.
Dear God, so this is why Zach’s only been texting me and there haven’t been any phone or computer calls since he left Cherry Valley. He’s been trying to avoid me, because he didn’t want to own up to what he was really doing: all along, he knew that FCT had no intention of locating here, but that didn’t stop him from grabbing some country ass. He was lying to me all along, and right now, he’s probably laughing it up with Barry because us peoplefolk in Dogpatch, USA, are so damned dumb and gullible. And, you bet, this stupid backwoods girl done gone and dropped her panties for his act.
As I keep swallowing hard, I think of that stupid movie I saw with Zach, the one that got me all heated up. Aroused. The man and woman cruelly teasing each other from their windows. The roots throttling one another beneath the potted plant, which probably would’ve ended up dead if the film had gone on …
God, I always knew he was a pretentious, big-city jerk. He’s probably cooking breakfast right now for some glam girl who stayed the night, and I was never in his league. Why didn’t I know that?
Why didn’t I learn?
“Hey, Mandy.”
Stunned, I squeeze shut my eyes at the sound of Cal’s voice. He hasn’t been in the shop since the day Zach first came to town. Has he heard that the city crew is gone now and it’s open season on the girl who gave it all away because of some con artist’s silver tongue? Is Cal going to start staring at my ass again because it’s sloppy-seconds time?
My mouth trembles as I force a smile and turn to Cal, whose >&< face looks so hopeful and friendly, reminding me that this is what my life is and I never should’ve thought it could be anything else.
Pressure builds in my chest as I quietly get him his usual — black coffee and a slice of pie to-go. If I can just ring him up and get him out of here, I’ll pull myself together and work myself out of this numbness. I won’t cry.
“Mandy, are you all right?” he asks.
Shit.
I run to the backroom, unable to stop myself from bursting into blindsided tears.
Chapter 25
Zach
For hours now I’ve been sitting in the small building that serves as FCT’s headquarters. Through my window, the sun has already crept over Great Meadow Park and San Francisco Bay, the fog lifting to give me a thick, heavy view.
I have one hour to go until Abby Peters’ blog goes live, and I’ve got to call Mandy before it does.
I’ve been doing everything I can to save the Cherry Valley deal, but Franklin Funding isn’t budging. I found out late last night that they want us to set up in Silicon Valley instead, and I thought I could perform some last-minute magic to save the day, yanking a fiscal rabbit out of a hat to show everyone that Cherry Valley is the place we belong.
But that didn’t happen. We won’t get funding unless we go along with this. I told Barry to give me more time, but Franklin Funding didn’t, so Barry called Abby with the scoop. In spite of how much I wanted to kill him, it was only fifteen minutes ago that I faced reality and called Abby with a PR statement, accepting my defeat.
What am I going to tell Mandy?
When I hear the building door open, I get out of my chair and go to my door. Barry is just entering, the strap of his computer case slung over his shoulder. His dark hair is disheveled, as if he suddenly doesn’t give a shit about appearances. He looks at me, and I see his latest tee shirt. There’s a graphic of a donkey on it, and I don’t know whether it’s a subtle apology to me for being the stubborn force that’s keeping us out of Cherry Valley or if he’s throwing his victory in my face.
His expression tells me it might be a mixture of both, but I close the door to my office anyway. I hear his own door close, and I turn back to the window.
I can’t put off calling Mandy any longer, and even though I don’t know what kind of promises I can make to her now, I’ve got to tell her something. Maybe we can just travel back and forth in a long-distance relationship, and maybe we can talk together every night.
Even so, the thought of being cut off from her makes my stomach go sour. There’s got to be some way to at least save us, even if I couldn’t do the same for the Cherry Valley deal.
After grabbing my phone off the desk, I dial her number, then immediately wonder if I should’ve Skyped her instead. I hear the phone pick up, then dead air.
“Mandy?”
The continued silence hollows me out right down the middle, because I know she’s there. Is she pissed because I’ve been too busy to do more than text lately? Or does she know I’ve been dreading to do even that because I didn’t have any answers for her?
“Are you there?” I ask.
“Congratulations on your good news,” she finally says, and there’s some
thing hard in her tone that makes the skin on the back of my neck prickle.
How does she already know?
Shit.
“Did Abby tell you before I could?”
“No. I read it in her blog.”
Fuck. “She already posted? We must’ve got our wires crossed about the time …” Or maybe I was so busy at the eleventh hour that I’m the one who screwed up.
“Don’t act like you don’t know.”
Damn, she’s angry, but I expected that. “I was about to call you.”
“So you could what? Tell me the bad news yourself? Well, your timing is slightly off. Or did you want to lay the news on me through a blog post because it wasn’t as messy that way?”
I pull the phone away from me, look at it, then put it back to my ear. She’s only overreacting because she’s upset, and I can make this better.
“I really was going to tell you the news this morning, Mandy. I’d hoped to have a different outcome, though.”
“Uh-huh.”
Her voice is thick, and I don’t want her to cry. Goddammit, not that.
She goes on. “Maybe this is where you tell me that you were just using me to get what you needed while you needed it, and now that things didn’t work out, we’ll go our separate, happy ways. Go ahead. Say it.”
Good God.
“Mandy …”
When she takes a breath, it shakes. “And not only have you insulted me, but you insulted Cherry Valley. Now, I can handle any offense that’s hurled my way, but when someone makes my town do the walk of shame as well, that’s what really gets me. You and Barry came here for some reason, but it wasn’t to be a part of this town. Maybe the trip was a tax write-off, or maybe you used Cherry Valley as leverage to negotiate a better deal in Silicon Valley. Whatever it was, it only proves me right — you’re exactly what I thought you were in the first place. Pretentious. A poser.”
