Ella’s expression shuttered closed. “Oh.”
Aidan said, “We can spare you. Go for it.”
Panic swept into Tuesday’s chest like a storm. “I’m probably not up on your math. Do you have a friend you can—”
Ella shook her head.
Tuesday wanted to take it back, to grab the child and hug her, to fix it all.
But she couldn’t. The panic grew higher, and her chest tightened.
Aidan was staring at her.
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, but I just can’t be…”
“I get it,” said Ella, sounding older. “I thought, because you were a teacher, you would—it’s fine.”
“I can’t be responsible for anyone right now.” Not even a little bit. For a second, talking to Felicia, she’d thought she was feeling better. But now—it wasn’t fair to this girl to let her think otherwise.
Aidan’s eyebrows rose.
Tuesday’s stomach felt like she’d swallowed glass.
Ella stood, looking older than eleven. “It’s really okay.”
“I can’t tell you how sorry I am.”
“It’s because of my scar. You can just say it.”
“What?” Tuesday was horrified. “Of course not.”
She raised a shoulder and dropped it, raising her hand to cover her neck. “I’m used to it, don’t worry.”
“Honey, I showed you my scar. I’m the last person to care.”
“Yeah, well, yours is a good one. It’s hidden. It means you can’t have babies, so what? Who cares? Mine is on my face. I have to live with it every second of the day.”
“Ella.” Acid burned its way up Tuesday’s throat. “You’re beautiful.”
Without saying another word, Ella ran down the lawn, across to her gate. She kept her left hand clasped against her neck the whole way.
“Oh,” gasped Tuesday.
Aidan’s voice was quiet. “You said you wanted kids.”
She did want kids. She wanted them so much that when she’d woken up from surgery and learned that they hadn’t been able to put her back together, she’d wanted to die. “I lied.” It was a lie in itself.
“Oh, my God.”
She doubled down. Why shouldn’t she? “Don’t you think I get enough of children at school? Don’t you think I’m sick of them when I get home?” She wished violently that it was the truth.
“I can see that. Ella looked like you’d stabbed her. But you said—”
Pain was bright behind her eyes. “I had just slept with you. I would have said anything.”
“This whole big house—”
“That’s what this is about,” she realized. “It’s about the house. The house of your dreams happened to have a woman attached. That was fine, if the woman could breed for you.”
“Bullshit.” His voice was a dark as his expression.
“Is it? Think about it. You hated me until you realized I wasn’t going anywhere. Then you figure out a way to get exactly what you want, a house full of kids, and a teacher to take care of them. Just like Mrs. Brown. Is that who I was supposed to be in this fantasy? The problem is that this is my house. If I want to go travel the world and rent it out on Airbnb, I can. I can let it stand empty if I want to. I won’t be that perfect little teacher for you.” The words felt vicious, sharp. She threw them like darts at a board, and she knew without looking that she was hitting bullseyes.
That was the worst part. That her words were true.
“Tuesday, that’s such bullshit that I can’t even—”
“You didn’t see me for who I was. Who I am.” It hurt like the steering wheel had except this wound would probably take longer to heal. “I thought I was falling in love with you.”
The slightest smile lit his eyes. “Yeah?”
“Oh, don’t worry. I won’t, now that I know who you are.”
The smile died. “And who’s that?”
“A guy so far into doing his own thing that he didn’t think to consult the person he chose to say he fell in love with.”
Aidan turned so that he leaned on the porch railing. Both hands gripped the wood, his knuckles whitening. She could only see the side of his face. “So you think I was lying to you.”
Tuesday shook her head. “I think you were lying to yourself.”
“About what?”
“About who you thought you were, who you thought you could be.”
He turned smoothly, his face a mask. “Darlin’, I’m not the one lying about who I am, it turns out.”
“I only lied about wanting kids.”
“What if everything about you is a lie?”
It felt like she’d run headlong into something hard and tall and heavy. “Stop.”
“I think that’s it.” He nodded and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “You come across as plain. Boring.”
Tuesday lifted her jaw. “Awesome, thank you. You’re so good at this.”
He raised his palm. “Wait. Then you turn on the juice—”
Fury lit her brain, hot and white. “The juice?”
“And you dazzle. You’re incredible. You’re sweet. You’re loving.”
“We shouldn’t—let’s not do this.”
“Let me finish. You want community. You want to fit in, and everyone falls in love with you.”
“Aidan—”
“But you don’t fall in love with anything. That’s your secret. You keep yourself apart, so that you can be safe. You won’t drive because you won’t take responsibility for anyone else. You probably don’t want to take responsibility for anyone you’re on the road with, either.”
He was so right it hurt.
Aidan went on. “But it comes down to this: you don’t give a good goddamn who you hurt, as long as you keep yourself warm and dry. You know what? I thought I was lonely.”
“You think you see me? You think you know me?”
He went on as if she hadn’t spoken. “But I wasn’t. Now I see that. I’m surrounded by people who care about me. That’s the opposite of lonely. You, on the other hand—yeah, enjoy the ivory tower you’re closing yourself up in.”
“Aidan, I never meant to—”
“That’s your whole problem. You never meant to. Your intention was to take care of yourself. Congratulations. You’ve done exactly that. And no more.”
Tears burned the backs of her eyelids, and she blinked hard to try to keep them back.
He swung himself down the porch. He turned right and walked up the white rock path that led around the house, to the driveway.
She was left alone.
Like she’d wanted.
Tuesday might as well start getting used to it.
She looped her shoulders back and went inside. The bathroom—she needed to check what he’d meant about the bathroom.
Upstairs, the hardware in the bathroom had been affixed.
Chrome.
Fury coursed through her veins like ice water.
Each and every handle and pull had been put on. The faucet handles were installed.
The chrome looked good, she had to admit. He’d been right (of course he was—this was his job).
But it wasn’t the black enamel they’d looked at it in the catalog. It wasn’t the black enamel that she’d chosen.
That meant that he’d heard her and ordered his choice anyway.
Because he was still thinking about this as his house.
His house, that came with the new addition of female built right in. A broken female, of course. A woman he wouldn’t want now that he knew she was faulty. Aidan was the kind of man who built things strong because it was the right thing to do.
She used to be strong. She hadn’t been for a long time.
Time for that to change.
She went to find Felicia.
Chapter 31
“S
he wants out.” Felicia dropped her clipboard into a bag at her feet.
Aidan felt a juddering in his chest. It had been two days since he’d fought
with Tuesday on the back porch. He hadn’t seen her on site, and he hadn’t called her.
“What?”
Felicia pinned her scowl on him. “And this is all your fault. She wanted black enamel in that bathroom—you knew that. Why did you put in the chrome?”
Aidan braced an arm against the kitchen sink. “That’s not what she’s upset about.”
“No, you’re right.” Felicia carefully slipped her iPad into her bag next to the clipboard and then put her hands on her hips. “She’s upset at the fact the people she’s employing aren’t respecting her wishes.”
Ow. “Fine. I honestly thought she would like it better. I guess I’ll just rip it out.”
“You’re not hearing me. She wants out. Of the whole thing.”
Jake, who’d been quiet till then, stepped forward. “What do we have to do to keep her?”
Aidan’s rage was lit with his brother’s match. “Keep her? I couldn’t get out of the contract, neither can she!”
“Actually, she can. It’s her money.”
“What about the down payment the network is making?”
“She says she has the money to cover it, and that if we don’t go along with her, she’ll pull all the way out.”
“What about the contract?”
“She had a kill clause.”
His chest burned. “I said, fine! I’ll put in the damned enamel.”
“Yeah, you need to do that. Just finish the house. And Aidan?”
Aidan pretended interest in the cabinet. “This is what you got for a replacement, Jake? You think this is good wood?”
Jake glared.
“Aidan.” Felicia’s voice was firm. “Why wouldn’t you just do it her way? She won’t go on any more dates. She asked that if we move forward, that we broadcast both dates, with you and Jake, and make that be enough.”
“So I’m being rejected, too.” That felt about right. He’d watched Tuesday shut down Ella, now she was shutting down him, as well. Of course, he’d already been shut out, back when she’d lied to him at the hot spring.
She hadn’t trusted him.
It felt like getting cut with a band saw. Then again, why would she trust him? A blue-collar builder like him?
He snapped his fingers at the closest cameraperson, who was drinking a bottled water in the hallway. “Hey. Get this on tape, would you?”
Felicia’s eyes widened, but she didn’t stop him. Of course not. Drama made for better TV.
When the camera’s red light was on, he said, “This is to you, Tuesday. For whenever you see it. I fell in love with you. That was my bad, I know that. If my putting chrome handles in the bathroom was enough to shake you loose? Well, then I’m glad you’re cutting me. You should see me when I have opinions about paint colors.” He wasn’t glad, though. He felt gutted, like a flapping cod dying on the old pier. “My stepfather Bill always said I was the one most like my real father. I can see that now. I fell for the wrong woman, just like my father did.” He turned and walked away, ignoring Jake’s yell from behind him.
Aidan would finish this house for Tuesday, and by God, he’d work the crew faster than they’d ever gone.
Then he’d forget the woman who’d made him feel like he could fly without wings.
Chapter 32
T
wo weeks and one day later, Tuesday walked from the Cat’s Claw to the Callahan house—her house. Nerves were dancing in her stomach, and she felt sick. Her skin was clammy and sweat dripped inside her bra even though it was chilly out.
She and caught sight of herself in the big plate glass window of the dance studio. The mirror at the bed and breakfast had said that she looked okay. Tired, yes, but probably all right for one more on-camera shot.
Now, looking at herself on the sidewalk, Tuesday thought she’d never looked worse.
The blue V-necked shirt was limp, too loose at the bust. The dark blue skirt (just the color of Aidan’s eyes, damn him) made her look more hippy than she was. She’d worn flats, which had been a mistake because now she just looked short and dumpy. Her glasses flashed in the sun, and her hair was already messed up from the ocean wind.
She would let the hair girl fix her, but no more makeup. She wore the red lipstick that her mother had given her, the one that stuck like glue. That would have to be enough.
The network was making her go through the house on camera now that it was finished. It had been easier to agree than argue with them—they’d caved to all her other demands. They wouldn’t make her go on another date. She didn’t have to fake working on the house on camera. No diary cams.
No Aidan.
In return, they could still air the episode. All she had to do was a quick walk-through and accept the key from the Ballard Brothers.
She could do it.
If she didn’t actually die while filming it.
The house looked quiet from the street. No banging, no hammering. The paint looked wonderful, blue and purple with touches of white—back to the colors that had most likely been original.
A cameraperson popped his head out the front door. “Felicia! She’s here!”
“Great!” Felicia tumbled out. Was it possible that she was starting to show already? Tuesday brought her eyes up from Felicia’s stomach and smiled.
“Hi.”
Felicia’s responding smile was thin. “Okay, we’ll do this fast and dirty, okay?” She didn’t meet Tuesday’s eyes. Of course not. Felicia’s loyalty lay with her partner’s brothers. To the Ballards.
Not to Tuesday. “Okay.”
“You’ve seen the show. I’ll walk you up, and you keep your eyes covered. When you’re ready, you open, and act surprised, like you’re seeing it all for the first time, okay?” Felicia lifted her voice to a yell. “Guys! Everyone out here! Now!”
Felicia herded her down a block. They stood together silently, watching a small white dog attempt to play with a cat across the street. The cat was winning—every time the dog danced close, the cat gave it another swipe.
Tuesday shivered in the blue wool coat which had looked cute earlier, but in the glass window had just looked bulky and out of fashion. “It’s cold.”
“Mmmm.” Felicia made a note on her iPad.
Two cameras arrived, and someone attached a mic pack to her lower back. A hair style was quickly attempted and just as quickly abandoned. The network obviously wanted out as soon as possible, too.
“Ready?”
No.
Tuesday nodded.
The cameras turned on, and so did Felicia. “Tuesday! What an exciting day! Today you’re going to see how the house of your dreams turned out. Are you ready?”
Tuesday tried grinning. It felt like a grimace. “So ready!”
“Okay, great! Cover your eyes. No peeking! I’ll guide you.”
Felicia led her to the house, keeping up a steady stream of positive chatter. Tuesday laughed in all the right places, though her heart felt made of lead and twice as heavy.
“Here we are! Don’t peek yet!”
“I’m not!” chirped Tuesday as brightly as she could, ready to cry.
“Three, two, and…one! Open!”
On the porch, all three Ballard brothers stood waving. Liam grinned. Jake smiled.
Aidan, she could see, was trying to smile but failing. He pulled in his lips and shot her a resolute and ironic thumb’s up.
Tuesday burst into tears.
“Right?” said Felicia. “The old house looks gorgeous, doesn’t she? Wait till you see what we’ve done inside!”
The men parted to let her and the cameras inside.
It only took a few minutes. Tuesday cried and hiccupped her way through her house.
The furnishings were perfect and new.
There were books in the shelves, and they weren’t hers. The new dining table filled the space beautifully, the wood polished to a high red gloss.
Everything felt empty. Soulless.
The bedroom was prettily done up with all white furnishings
. They’d given her a skylight and bigger windows, so she could see the marina from the second floor.
The bathroom tile was done. The clawfoot tub was in.
The fixtures were black enamel.
And they looked awful. The chrome really had been better.
She smiled through her tears and said, “I just can’t believe it. Any of it.” At least everything she said was true.
She couldn’t believe she’d lost him.
She couldn’t believe she’d hurt Ella.
She couldn’t believe she’d gotten it all so spectacularly wrong.
In the kitchen, they poured champagne into glasses, even though it wasn’t even eleven in the morning.
“Where would you like to drink your toast to your new home, Tuesday?” Felicia was so sparkly—she was good at her job.
“How about—” Tuesday hiccupped again “the porch?” Outside, she needed to be out, not so close to Aidan that she could smell the pine of his body as she could in the kitchen.
Outside, Tuesday’s eye was drawn to the hang gliders down at the water.
She had soared like that.
Once.
God, she needed this to end so she could christen her new bed with two or three years’ worth of tears. She raised her glass. “To home!”
“To home.” Glasses clinked.
Tuesday sucked back half the glass, hiccupping more violently when she stopped.
Felicia nodded at her.
Right. She had lines to deliver. Diana, I can’t do this. I’m not strong enough.
She took a deep breath. “I had a great time… Um.” She shook her head.
Gene, the cameraman, looked over the lens.
“That’s okay,” said Felicia. “Just start over.”
She’d go fast, hitting the lines they’d told her to hit. “I had a great time dating Jake and Aidan Ballard, but they’re both still on the market.”
“Any regrets about putting Jake in the hospital?” Felicia made it sound like it had been her plan.
“Sorry about that, Jake.”
He smiled at her and it almost looked genuine. “No problem. My head is hard as a rock.”
“And you’re not picking Aidan, either?” pressed Felicia.
Her heart felt wrung dry. “Well, I knew that moment that he bashed in the wrong wall that maybe he wasn’t the one for me.” Oh, God. Tuesday had meant it to come out light. A little joke. A reference to something funny that had happened that would make them all laugh.
Build it Strong (The Ballard Brothers of Darling Bay Book 2) Page 16
