by L. J. Wilson
“I shouldn’t be worried?” she said. “You’re set free from what had to be an awful experience, and you’ve hardly said more than five sentences to me since you’ve been home. And to be honest, I’m not sure whether I’m supposed to start the ball rolling here or you are. I’ve been making this up since the night you were arrested, and I don’t know what comes next. Alec warned me that you weren’t too chatty on the way home. In fact, he said ‘Don’t be surprised to wake up one morning and find him gone.’ Not what I had in mind, Aaron.”
She was babbling now, and Aaron thought it best just to let her get it out. “Of course, I go ahead and totally misread everything by throwing you some dopey surprise party, thinking we can all just act like it was a big mistake and ‘so what?’ I guess… Well, I suppose…” She stopped talking, her arms slapping against her thighs. Her chin quivered, tears spilling over like they did in the courtroom.
An exhale shuddered out of Aaron. Well, he’d managed to totally fuck this up too. He came across the kitchen and folded Honor into a big-brother hug. He could feel her hands dig into him, the same way they did on the day they hauled him away—like she wasn’t letting go, no matter how many correctional officers insisted otherwise.
“I… I still don’t understand how this happened to you,” she said, hiccupping into his shirt. “I’m sorry, but I just don’t. It shouldn’t have, I know that.”
“Just take a breath, Honor. Just stop.” Looking into her glassy eyes, he could see how deep seven years of sorrow went. Make that eight. The year before Aaron screwed up his life had to be the worst of Honor’s. Really? Aaron’s troubles had only been the latest bad news to invade Honor’s life. Around her eyes, Aaron saw tiny lines that shouldn’t be there. Not yet. And still, there they were. Pretty Honor who didn’t look like any Clairmont. She was small boned, hair like Evie’s, but a tiny up-turned nose and wide tropical water-colored irises. There was nothing of Pop in her. Aaron always thought it was because she was a girl, but there was something about Honor that was decidedly not a Clairmont—she lacked the brazenness that described himself, Alec, Troy, even movie-star Jake.
Aaron drew a breath—Pop… Through every day that his sorry ass was locked up, Aaron took solace in one thing: Sebastian and Evie—his nomadic, unmarried parents—weren’t alive to see any of it. Looking at Honor now, he realized the selfishness of the thought. Sure Alec, Jake, Troy, they had to live with some of the burden. But Honor had taken the brunt of it for all the Clarimonts, dead and alive. He reached for a tissue box, handing her a few. “Let’s sit. If that’s what you want, I’ll talk. Okay?”
She nodded, wiping her nose, following him to the bar stools.
“I’ve had a few days to get my bearings. Maybe that’s enough time to stop treating me like some new piece of furniture nobody’s supposed to sit on.”
“Is that what we’ve been doing?” she said, blotting the tears, blowing her nose.
“More or less. But it’s just as much my fault. I don’t know how to do this either, Honor. Where I fit—into this family or Nickel Springs.” Aaron shrugged hyper-muscular shoulders and glanced at the hodgepodge of furniture that filled the family room. It wasn’t designer, but it did go together in a way that seemed like home. Any new item would easily upset the balance. “Life’s gone on here for a lot of years. A life that I wasn’t a part of. Alec was right. Bolting would have been the easy way out. We’re all kidding ourselves if we think I’m just going to blend.”
“You don’t have to blend, Aaron. You belong. Don’t ever forget that.”
“Belong where?” He held up a hand. “Save the part about how things will settle down eventually. Maybe they will. If so, great. And if I haven’t said it, I appreciate it, Honor—you letting me come back here, not renting my room out.”
The tears had dried, a small smile curving around her pouty mouth. “It never crossed my mind—you not coming home. Although I did have to keep Troy from taking it over. Even for a guy, having your own bathroom is a pretty good draw.”
Aaron tensed, hands rubbing over the nap of his cotton sweats. The mention of the bathroom evoked images that didn’t go with brother/sister conversation. “Uh, yeah, right. I could see that. Speaking of Troy, I’m not too sure he’d vote for me coming home to any room in this house.”
“It’s not you, Aaron. Troy’s been moody, out of touch for a while now.” Honor sighed, her head shaking. “It’s hard to pin down, approach him about it. I mean, he hasn’t gotten into trouble—not that I know about. But he has been distant.”
“What kind of friends… girlfriend?”
“The guy friends have faded. At least they don’t come around much. He was seeing somebody for a while—an older girl, maybe you remember her?”
Aaron held his breath, anticipating the one name he didn’t want to hear. He ripped the Band-Aid off himself. “Chloe Pike?”
“Yes. How did you know…?”
“Just a guess,” he said, recalling Chloe’s comment about the cautionary ways of all Clairmont men. Well, that’s just fucking great… a blow job courtesy of my kid brother’s girlfriend. He didn’t know whether to be embarrassed or furious. And what about the other tidbit Chloe had shared, informing Aaron that “an admirer” had paid for her boob job and bling. If she was talking about Troy, where the hell would he get that kind of money? Aaron cleared his throat. He’d figure it out later. Right now, he wouldn’t be mentioning either to Honor. “Is, um… is he still seeing her?”
“I don’t know. Maybe. Like I said, Troy doesn’t confide much to me these days.”
“Maybe I can talk to him about that… her,” he said, wondering if Chloe Pike had an end game or she was just playing one. Aaron refocused. At the moment, Honor was waiting for Aaron’s blanks to be filled in, not Troy’s. “Anyway… Well, you know part of my parole requires employment. I have sixty days to find something, and I’ve already burned four of them. So there’s something I need to work on.”
“I’m glad you brought it up.”
“Are you? It should be fun, having every door in Nickel Springs slammed in my face. That’s why I’ve been thinking that starting over somewhere else might not be the worst idea in the world.”
Honor’s head shook more adamantly with each word. “No… no way! You’re right, Aaron. It’s not going to be easy. People will judge. But you know as well as I do, your record will follow no matter where you go. So explain how it would be better to start over without a support system like your family?”
“It might not be easier for me, but it would be for you guys.” He stopped there. Short of vanishing in the middle of the night, it was the biggest out Aaron could give her. Maybe she should grab it.
“No.”
“No?”
“No… and I don’t want to discuss it again. Got it? This is home. This is where you belong.”
“Yes ma’am,” he said, hearing a tone that the younger sister he’d left behind hadn’t yet discovered.
“In fact, if you’re willing to accept a little help… Well, that’s part of the reason I came home.”
Aaron sat taller on the stool. He wasn’t too sure he was going to like what came next. It had the distinct smell of charity.
“You know I’m doing pretty decently with my catering business. Maybe even a little better than decent. We talked about that when I visited, right?”
“Yeah, it was a safe subject. Not too personal, nothing that would agitate the inmate. I figured you’d studied the ‘how to speak to a prisoner handbook’ cover to cover.”
“Something like that. Anyway, things have gotten so good that I’ve expanded my business. In addition to private parties, I’ve taken on a new venture—an inn at the far end of Butterfield Lake.”
“An inn?” He said it so softly Aaron barely heard his own voice. “The old Rose Arch Inn?” And in his head, there it was. The private beach he and Ruby had frequented until winter and Aaron’s covert life had driven them out.
“Aaron… Are you
listening?”
He realized his focus was lost, having floated to some aimless spot in the next room.
“Sorry. It, uh… it reminded me of something. But yeah, I’m listening.” He cleared his throat, trying to dislodge the memories. “Go on. Honor’s Guests is doing great. I can’t tell you how proud I am of that. But if, um… if you’re about to offer me a job… I did kitchen time on the inside. If you want lousy boiled potatoes for four-hundred, I can help you out. After that… not so much.”
“Uh, no. I’ve got the cooking part under control. I actually have a staff now.”
“Really? Wow, things are good. Still, I don’t know if me working for you is the best idea.”
“I knew you’d say that. It doesn’t make me totally unhappy, Aaron. I’m glad to see that independent streak of yours is alive and well. This job isn’t with Honor’s Guests. It’s at the Rose Arch.”
Aaron sat stiffly on the stool, praying she didn’t ask why he’d stopped breathing.
“Actually, it’s not the Rose Arch Inn anymore. They’re calling it Abstract Enchantment. Isn’t that pretty?”
Nod… just nod…. Aaron forced his head to bob.
“The place is owned by Windamere. It’s a massive hotel conglomerate. They own properties everywhere, but they’re expanding into the boutique end of the business. Abstract Enchantment is a trial venue.”
“Trial venue,” he parroted.
“Aaron, are you all right?”
He felt Honor touch his arm, the muscle mercilessly rigid.
“What’s wrong?”
He needed to get it together. He couldn’t let Honor see this. He sure as fuck didn’t want to explain it. Aaron removed his arm from his sister’s hold. He grappled for an association that didn’t center on Ruby. “Uh, yeah… fine. The place Pop used to oversee.” That’s it. Give it context… NOT the place that belonged to Ruby and me…“Still adjusting to real-world things… places… memories, that’s all.”
“The old Rose Arch, it’s the kind of property Windamere looks for. They’ve done most of the renovations. And, well, the other day, at your, uh… homecoming…” Honor was always good at finding sweet ways around direct prison references. “That day, there was a man here.”
“The suit you were talking to.”
“You noticed him?”
“Hard to miss. His fine attire had to cost more than your car.”
“Stefan’s more than his clothes, Aaron.”
There was a definite shift in her tone. He treaded carefully. “Stefan, huh?”
“He’s European—though he’s lived in the states for years. He’s in charge of Abstract Enchantment.”
“Abstract Enchantment,” he said, trying to connect the name to the place in his head.
“Right. I said that. I think it’s trendy—chic.”
“I think it sounds like something kinky has invaded Nickel Springs.”
“No, not at all. Think more sophisticated romance with a modern edge. Part of the project is promoting a boutique inn with a European motif. Don’t judge. Wait until you see what they’ve done with the place. You won’t recognize it.”
That would be a miracle… “Why would I be seeing any of it?”
“Because tomorrow you have a meeting there with Stefan.”
“Okay, whoa. Back the truck up. I don’t know a damn thing about romantic inns—European or straw bed.”
“He knows that. I told you, Stefan’s a good guy. Look, you have a business degree. You know Nickel Springs. You’ve worked plenty of construction, and you did help get my business off the ground.”
“Come on, Honor. I helped you deliver hot hor d’oeuvres to the rotary club Christmas party and a few weddings.”
“Regardless,” she said, her chin tipping higher, “it was enough to get your foot in the door.”
“Yes, but does he know…?”
“Stefan knows that you were…”
“In prison. Say it, Honor.”
She was Clairmont—or at least Evie—stubborn. “Publically out of reach,” she said, folding her arms. “And the first thing Stefan insisted on was not knowing a single detail. He said if you were starting a new future, it would be his starting point as well. In fact, he was quite insistent.”
“And when did you tell him all this, over drinks—or someplace more intimate?”
“What does that mean?”
“I’m just trying to figure how this fits together. Obviously, you know the guy well enough to have invited him to your brother’s unorthodox coming out.”
“True. I had every intention of introducing you the other day. Stefan was very open to the idea—which I think goes to show you how nonjudgmental he is. But then you disappeared… went to take shower.”
Aaron shuffled on the bar stool like a kid in the timeout corner. He hopped off. Now he felt like he was lying to her. “Uh, yeah, sorry about that.”
“I couldn’t find you, and Stefan had to get going. I saw him today at lunch. He said he’d be willing to talk to you about a job.”
Aaron had walked to the far side of the kitchen island, his arms pressing into the granite. “Cut to the chase, Honor. Is this guy like your boyfriend… are you sleeping with him?”
“Aaron!”
“It’s a fair question. Business associates don’t extend those kinds of favors. Sounds like this guy’s got a lot riding on his Abstract Enchantment venture. Why would he take a risk on me? Especially not knowing if I was in for grand theft auto, or…” Aaron didn’t finish the thought, still stymied by his crime. “So what’s the deal between the two of you?”
She looked startled. She looked like he wasn’t supposed to have figured that much out. “We’re not… Well, it started out…” She stood, arms still folded. “It’s complicated.”
“I have time.”
Honor sat again, her fair-eyed gaze taking a serious inventory of his. “Stefan and I have a lot of business dealings. Windamere, thanks to Stefan, is in the process of signing Honor’s Guests to handle the food for the new inn. And…”
“And…?” he said warily.
“And we do have a separate deal going. One where Stefan would personally invest in Honor’s Guests. I won’t lie—it would be a huge boost for me. The kind of investment a small business like mine dreams about.”
“Okay, so I’m still not hearing the part where this Stefan owes you a favor. What else?”
“Well, lunches, they have gotten more… social. And I admit, he’s charming… good looking. But Stefan’s also very professional.”
“Does that mean you’re only screwing around when you’re both off the clock?”
“I…” She stopped, the blue of her eyes darkening as they narrowed. “I don’t see how any of that is your concern.”
“If I were your average brother, someone who didn’t have to report to his parole officer, you might be right. But think about it, Honor. You got something going with this guy—whatever it is. For you, I hope it matches the smile on your face when I saw you talking to him. If he’s what you want, if this Stefan treats you good… Fine. But if it all went south tomorrow… Well, your shiny Euro-suit might not think twice about throwin’ my ass under the bus for his trouble. Could be I’m paranoid. But if not, if I get fingered for some wrongdoing at a job… That kind of parole breach, it’s five years, automatic.”
She was quiet for moment. “I didn’t think about that.”
“I wouldn’t expect you to. What can I tell you? Serious time being publically out of reach will make you look before you leap.”
“But Stefan wouldn’t do that. I know him well enough to know that.”
“Do you?”
She hesitated again. “Look, I didn’t start this conversation with the intention of discussing my sex life with my brother…” They looked anywhere but at each other. “But if it makes you keep that appointment tomorrow, I haven’t slept with Stefan.”
“But you’re thinking about it.”
“I’m thinking
getting you a good job is my number-one priority.”
“More so than any romantic interest you have in this guy?”
“Enough so that I don’t mind promising if you keep the meeting, take the job, my relationship with Stefan will stay strictly business. This is too important to me.”
That was Honor, always putting herself second to whatever any brother needed. It pissed Aaron off that circumstances had proven he needed the most. He sighed. “What’s the job? Construction… plumbing… grounds work, I can handle any of it.”
“Not exactly.” Her brow crinkled. “Stefan’s looking for an assistant manager to oversee the last of the building projects for Abstract Enchantment. Then he needs somebody he can transition into helping run the place.”
“You’re kidding?” Aaron said, fully expecting a bottom rung on any job ladder.
“I’m not. And I did a damn good job of convincing him you’re the right guy. So will you meet with him?”
“If you tell me the truth about one thing.”
She nodded.
“How do you really feel about him? Would you be passing up the great love of your life so your jailbird brother gets a shot at redemption? Because if that’s the case,” Aaron said, his arms grazing empty air, “…Pass.”
“The truth, huh?” She sat back down on the bar stool. “Fair enough. The truth is that Stefan is an interesting man. Compared to the usual fare in Nickel Springs… Well, he’s more intriguing than Marty who owns the NASCAR memorabilia shop and smarter than Trevor Dotson… maybe I mentioned him?”
“The adjunct professor at the university. You dated him years three and four,” Aaron said, tracking time the only way he could on the inside. “Didn’t work out?”
“Nice guy. Not the right guy.”
“Okay, then let’s get to the real question. How does Stefan stack up to Rowen?” At the mention of Rowen Pratt’s name, Honor’s eyes grew teary. Fuck. He hadn’t meant to make her cry.
