by Roxy Mews
It had always been her safety net. If she needed to go back, she had the money, and she had the dress, and she could go back into a world where all the smiles were fake and all the diamonds were real. But it wasn’t her. It never had been. She could do like her parents and make appearances and have networks script “reality” television shows for her.
Or…she could find a real human connection.
She threw the dress in the donation bin. The bag clanged against the drop chute and clinked against the side all the way down. After rescuing her hemp wallet and cell phone from the tiny clutch, she launched the purse down the same chute.
She’d just given up her safety net. And she’d never felt more free.
Chapter Thirty-Four
He’d slept in late. Felicity hadn’t slept in. She was up before her alarm every morning, and Brandon had been happy to rise with her. Now he felt like crap. He stumbled through the huge apartment and frowned at his coffee maker. Even with the same beans as Felicity used, his coffee didn’t taste as good as hers did. He gulped it down anyway.
Brandon rubbed his eyes again before he smoothed out the morning paper on his dining table. Sure it was already afternoon, but the paper had been sitting on his doorstep since the morning, so it still counted.
The image on the front page of the society section stopped him. This couldn’t be the same woman, but sure enough there was an exclusive quote from the notorious Debbie Diggs about her relationship with the infamous Felicity Newowski.
Felicity had attended her parents’ charity ball. When he flipped to page three to read the rest of the article, a very familiar logo was on a piece of paper in her and her father’s hands. It was a cashier’s check from Central Bank, one of his biggest competitors. He always was thrilled to see a new account come in with one of those.
He didn’t read the article. He didn’t need to. Felicity had told him the best part of a tiny house was being able to pick up and leave. Surely she wouldn’t just jump ship from her pet project and run back to mommy and daddy Newowski. But when he saw the spread of pictures he spotted Felicity, heels in hand, like she had partied the night away after donating to her own parents’ charity. He crumpled up the paper and threw it in the trash.
It took a bit of digging, but Brandon found an old baseball cap he’d worn in college. He didn’t have time to do his hair. He had to know for sure if he had been wrong about her.
* * * * *
There was a large rectangle of dead grass where her trailer used to be. Brandon went up and stood in the middle of it. He looked around. There wasn’t much to the tiny space. His apartment could fit a dozen of these things. Small, but it stood as a significant spot for him now. So much had changed for him inside this space.
Sure, he’d also quit his job, but he’d find another one. Being a manager at his young age made him qualified to do damn near anything he wanted in the business world. It had also let him accumulate a fairly large nest egg. He looked around the lot. It wasn’t appealing from a blank slate standpoint, but Brandon couldn’t help but see the light in Tom’s eyes when he talked about getting started building. There was something he could do right now.
He called his real estate agent. The paperwork was already in the bank. All it would take was a slight name “correction” and he could sign the paperwork today. Bethany thought he was nuts, but if he sold his apartment at market value, he’d have more than enough to do what he wanted. And getting commission on a bank purchase where the majority of the work was already done was too damn tempting to resist. He had her agree to meet him as soon as she could get there.
If Felicity was too chicken to follow through, at least he wasn’t.
The loud ring had him jumping out of his skin. It was Channel 13. Brandon thought about sending it to voicemail, but it wasn’t like him to put off something that could be done now…not anymore. So he answered.
“What can I do for you, Deborah?”
She laughed. “You can actually give me the interview I was promised. Just because you’re leaving your post as a high and mighty loan officer doesn’t mean you don’t have an opinion. I’m sure you heard about what happened last night at the Newowski event.”
“I saw pictures. I got the gist of it. I’m not interested in the details.” He kicked a tuft of dead grass where he’d been dumb enough to fall in love with a liar.
“Do you have any comment you’d like to add to the piece I’m putting together on Felicity?”
Felicity had fooled him in more ways than one. He’d thought she was going to abandon who she used to be. Or at least try and do something good with her fortune now. Nope. He should have known better than to think she was going to go through with this shanty project. People like the Newowskis didn’t get their hands dirty. They paid someone to do it for them. Part of him still had trouble wrapping his mind around the woman he’d held so tightly just days ago not being who she’d said she was. Of course, he hadn’t forced the issue either. Being ignorant had been a lot more fun.
Now…now he just felt angry. “I think she could have helped a lot of people,” he found himself saying to Debbie. “And I think she could have done some good. Instead she just gave up and that shows me she’s not the person she pretended to be. It’s a shame that person doesn’t exist.”
Deborah snorted. “Yeah, okay. Now how about a real quote.” When he didn’t say anything, she acted like she was shocked. “You want me to use that?”
“I don’t give a shit.”
He hung up. He didn’t need Felicity. Just like every other woman he’d been with, she had her own plans, and they involved money. Money made the world go round, but Brandon didn’t want it to be the center of his any longer.
He tried to call Tom, but the man’s phone just rang for ages. After the third try, Brandon left a voicemail. He offered Tom a job taking over the project Felicity had started. And he warned the man to pull the money from the joint business account. Assuming that wasn’t what Felicity had donated last night.
Then Brandon called Felicity.
Chapter Thirty-Five
It was going exceptionally well. The tiny home open house had been a spur of the moment idea to thank the station and all the people who had donated money for the GoFundMe page.
Felicity wanted to show them exactly what she and Tom were working on, and how each home started out. Tom had been gracious enough to tow in the empty trailer he’d bought. It was a great before and after for people to wow over.
Felicity couldn’t stop smiling. She’d upload all of this to her blog later. She’d tried to take some video of Tom’s presentation, but it was pointless. She was answering so many questions and directing so many people through her home, it was near impossible to hide behind a camera.
Tom had turned off his phone to stop all the calls he’d been getting after her little scene. Apparently, Deborah had given his number out on her voicemail message. She told Felicity she’d respect her desire for privacy. Debbie, unfortunately, didn’t have the same deal with Tom.
Felicity was shocked when her own phone rang. For a moment she thought it might be her parents. There was always a little bit of herself that hoped her folks would change their minds about shoving her aside, but the courier who’d dropped off the formal documents writing her out of her parents will was a pretty good clue that she’d just been disowned.
The phone number was one she’d hoped she’d see again. It was Brandon. Felicity had to be honest with herself—if it weren’t for Brandon and his boss digging up her past, she might not have ever come clean. She knew she’d have to get an actual mailbox and do something more permanent because she wanted to build the community she’d dreamed of.
She was pretty sure she’d need some banking assistance. But that wasn’t why she wanted to see him face to face again. Brandon was now on a first name basis with the skeletons in her closet. Seeing her for who she was would either end the relationship or bring about more smoking hot sex. The latter was much more appealing.
They’d agreed to no strings. Hell, she’d insisted on it. But she’d found something special with him that she hadn’t known existed. Brandon wasn’t the final reason she wanted to move forward with a clean slate, but he’d definitely given her a push in that direction.
A child broke from her mother to tug on Felicity’s skirt. The little girl’s name was Candice. When Tom had introduced her earlier, Felicity had laughed out loud. The mother and daughter Tom had wanted to help were the same two people Felicity had seen at the bus stop.
Things really did tend to come full circle.
“Miss Newhouse, your phone’s ringing,” Candice told her.
“You’re right.” Felicity stared at Brandon’s face on the screen. “It is.”
She excused herself and hopped out of the house for a second, running down the steps that the man on the phone had helped make. She knew all the wonderful things the man could do with his hands. She hoped he’d show her again.
Clicking the button to answer the call, she smiled. “I’m so glad you called.”
“You sound out of breath. I guess that’s what happens when you run away.”
Felicity looked at her phone. What was this guy’s problem? “Um…excuse me?”
“I went by your lot, and saw it was empty. I know you’re gone.”
“Brandon, wait until you hear—” Her smile slid off her face as he interrupted.
“I just wanted to let you know that you might have chickened out and gone back, but I think it’s shitty that you abandoned the people who believed in you enough to donate money. Just because you’re filthy fucking rich doesn’t mean people beneath your status don’t deserve to have you follow through.”
She was lost. “What?”
“Just…wherever you go, don’t come back here. In fact, you can’t. I bought the land.”
“Brandon? What? Hello?”
He’d hung up.
She looked around at all the smiling faces. Even the governor was here. Which wasn’t shocking after he had all that horrible PR last week.
A tug on her arm had Felicity face to face with Tom. “You look like you just got some bad news.”
She turned off her phone and tucked it into her pocket. Having Brandon would have been nice, but it was obvious he’d taken her no strings request to heart. His comment about her land had her confused.
“Have you talked to Brandon today?” she asked.
“Nope. I haven’t been able to turn on my phone for more than a second. I’m pretty sure I’m going to have to change my number.”
Felicity cringed. “I didn’t know she was doing that.”
“I know. Don’t worry about it. Most of my employees and business contacts email me anyway. It’s just impacting my nonexistent love life.”
She wanted to talk about what Brandon had said, but when the governor comes up to you, you tend not to brush him off.
By the end of the evening, her head was spinning. The governor had brought in some news media and some of the reporters from the local paper to take pictures for their lifestyle section. He was going to rezone the plot of land. He had already been working with Brandon’s bank on the paperwork. All she had to do was purchase the space next to the cemetery and her tiny house community would be zoned in as apartments.
There was a good chance it wasn’t technically legal, but luckily she was good image points for the governor. Felicity wasn’t looking a gift horse in the mouth.
After a few more hours of talking until her throat hurt, Felicity hooked up her home to her truck as Tom hitched up the empty trailer to his pickup. They unlatched the stairs and put them in the entry of the home, securing them behind the bungie cord she’d rigged up.
It wasn’t a long drive, but it was long enough that Felicity had time to reflect on her brief phone call.
She was just going over Brandon’s words in her mind again when she turned the corner and saw Tom parked in front of the farm-style gate leading onto the plot of land she’d called home for so long. Usually, the metal tubes were propped open and welcoming with her wreaths and greenery around the rungs. Now, it was closed with an ugly silver chain and a giant red lock. Tom stood on one side of the gate, and Brandon stood on the other with his arms folded.
Felicity parked on the side of the street as far onto the shoulder as she could. She flipped on her caution lights to make sure people could see the house as the sun had already dipped below the horizon.
She walked up, but Brandon and Tom didn’t even notice her there.
“What do you mean you own this land? How did you even buy it so fast? This wasn’t even supposed to be available until today. The governor put it up for sale so Felicity could buy it.”
“It was at the bank, ready to go.” Brandon shrugged. “The paperwork was already drawn up. Besides, I know a few bankers, and pulling strings isn’t beneath me. I don’t know why the governor didn’t charge more for it. If he was going to give land to a liar, might as well take the extra income and give a tax break to those who are actually staying in this city. Felicity has done nothing but hide who she really is. I should have been able to smell the filthy rich attitude. It usually makes a pretty foul stench on a person.”
Felicity coughed. Both men finally turned toward her.
“Guess you heard about the charity gala.”
“I saw the news coverage. I should have known when I saw that dress. But you fooled me just like all these other people.” Brandon was steaming. “You lied about who you were. Even when we…” He looked to Tom and back at her. “Even when we got closer, you didn’t say anything, and you let me believe you were someone else. If you would have told me what you were doing from the start, I might have been happy to help you play your games. But not now. Now you manipulated me just like all these other people.”
Tom’s face was red as a poppy, but Felicity just waved him off. It wasn’t worth the fight. Brandon did have a right to be angry. He might be wrong about her intentions, but she’d kept herself from him when she should have told the truth. Running from your past never worked out well. She might have a clear conscience now, but she’d hidden for a long time. This was the price she had to pay.
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you the truth, Brandon. Truly.”
She wanted to hug him, but she didn’t want to cry in front of him, and hugs either made her uncomfortable or made her cry. That was what happened when you didn’t get them much growing up.
She dragged Tom by the arm all the way down the road and next to her house before he pulled free from her grip.
“Aren’t you going to tell him where we were? I tried and the ass wouldn’t even let me get a word in edgewise.”
“It doesn’t matter. I’m paying a price for lying.”
Tom huffed. “Don’t tell me you believe in that karma bullshit.”
“Wouldn’t you? The minute I think I’ve got everything set and get cocky with my parents, stuff falls apart. There’s not enough room in life to hold onto anger and hate. We’ll find another plot. The governor hasn’t filed for the public hearing to rezone the land yet, I’m sure. Maybe we can find another spot.”
She looked at her house. When you got kicked out of your home, it was nice to get to take it with you.
Tom took off his hat and slapped it on his leg. Then he put it back on his head and took a deep breath. “You can park behind my offices. We store materials there and I just finished a house. We’ve got some material ready for the first tiny house, but there’s still plenty of room for this trailer and your home. I don’t have electricity or water hookups though.”
She shrugged. “I’ve got solar for the morning, and the batteries are still charged from earlier today. I’ll take a shower at the gym.”
Tom opened her truck door for her. She hopped in and rolled down the window, so Tom could lean in.
He looked to where Brandon still stood with his arms crossed. He was waiting for them to leave. “When he gets his head out of his ass, I’ll explain wh
ere we were, and I’m sure he’ll sell us the land.”
Felicity shook her head. “I shouldn’t have to explain myself to someone I care about.”
“What?”
“I spent my childhood and most of my adult life defending and explaining myself to my parents, and when I realized no one understood what I wanted, I ran away rather than just saying how I felt. I’m done explaining myself. I’m going to live how I see fit, and I’m going to help people. That’s enough for me.”
Tom slapped the side of her truck. “I’m on board wherever we end up in the city. As long as we don’t build inside a graveyard. I saw that movie, and I’m in no hurry to get pulled into a closet by a clown.”
The chuckle she allowed herself was half-hearted at best. “Let’s head over to your shop. I’m tired.”
They drove away, and Felicity wished she was able to lie to herself as well as Tom and Brandon. The tears leaked from her eyes and she couldn’t work up the strength to wipe them away.
Chapter Thirty-Six
Packing up his things was a lot more work than he’d thought it would be. Brandon had hired a mover to bring his stuff into this apartment three years ago. He’d hired a decorator to fill up the spaces he couldn’t be bothered to decorate on his own.
Now when he looked at it all, it was not worth taking with him.
He called his realtor. “Do you think we could get someone to buy the furniture with the apartment?”
“It’s nice stuff. How much of the furniture do you want to put into a conveyance?”
He took a full minute to walk through the kitchen, living room, office and bedroom. “I’ll take my desk with me, but I’m not interested in anything else.”
There was a choking sound on the other side. “You don’t want your Italian leather couch?”
“Not even a little bit.”
He waited for her to get her coughing under control.
