by Amanda Rose
I was trying to think of what to say, when the sound of gravel crunching under tires on the drive as someone approached pulled our attention from the conversation. Squinting in that direction, I made out headlights turning the corner in the growing darkness of twilight.
“Who could that be?” Jameson wondered out loud. “The signs are posted with the hours. We're closed.”
I didn't have an answer, since I was just as mystified as he was.
The engine cut off, and we heard the sound of a door slamming closed. The headlights still remained on, clearly on the brightest setting as they were blinding me completely.
Everything went quiet for a moment as Jameson and I waited to see who our visitor was, the only sound I could hear was my still rapidly beating heart.
“Holly? Is that you?” an unpleasantly familiar voice rang out through the dark.
Oh fuck, You have got to be kidding me.
Jameson looked at me in concern. “Holly? Do you know who that is?”
The voice called out from the parking lot again, drawing closer. “Holly, I came to talk to you.” The man finally stepped into view and all the elation I had been feeling only a moment before was replaced with the sensation that I had been doused with a bucket of ice water.
“That's my ex-boyfriend, Clint.”
CHAPTER TEN
I was sitting in a rented Land Rover with Clint, driving through the dark and winding country road on our way to town. At first we had shared an extremely awkward silence, both of us staring out of the windshield with nothing but the sound of the stock market report being read in a dry, monotone voice that was emanating from the speakers. After awhile Clint had decided to fill the silence and began to tell me all about how he had spent the last several months since we broke up. I heard about his new investments and his diversified financial portfolio. Apparently he was doing really well with some high risk/high reward stocks. I started to fervently miss the awkward silence as he droned on and on.
When he approached me at the farm, Jameson had stepped forward protectively. Clint's gray eyes looked him up and down before he held out a hand and introduced himself. “Clint Harris the third.” He had said in the same patronizing tone he tended to use on people in the service industry. Hell, it was the same tone he used on me half the time, and I had dated him for three years. “And you are?” His too perfect veneer smile stayed frozen in place as his hand hung in the air waiting to be shaken.
Jameson didn't take it, and after about ten seconds Clint had given up and let his arm fall limply to his side again. He was dressed as casually as I had ever seen him, a pair of khaki colored slacks, a brown Ralph Lauren peacoat and his favorite pair of twenty-seven hundred dollar Salvatore Ferragamo Oxford shoes. I was silently pleased when I noticed he had gotten mud on them. It had always bothered me that he had a huge collection of designer shoes that was twice the size of my own.
“Anyways,” He turned away from the cold stare that Jameson was giving him, “I was hoping to have a word with you Holly? I've been trying to reach you for weeks, but you never responded to my texts or voicemails. I found out from your sister that you were vacationing with family out here in the middle of nowhere, so here I am.” He looked pleased with himself, and seemed to expect me to be pleased with him too.
“Okay....” I replied hesitantly. “I put my phone in a drawer weeks ago and haven't looked at it since then, Clint. The only people that I care about know the phone number here if they need to reach me. What could be so important that you had to come all this way to talk to me about it?”
“Any chance we could discuss it over dinner?”
Jameson looked sharply over at me but still said nothing.
I thought for a moment before reluctantly agreeing. If Clint had bothered to come all this way he must have had something important to discuss with me. When we had been together I could barely get him to leave work on time to have dinner with me. The sooner I heard him out the sooner he could leave. Jameson looked like he wanted to punch him, and I couldn't imagine that Jasper or Spence would be that much happier to meet my ex-boyfriend. Everything had been going so well with the four of us, and I didn't want what could be our last days together to be ruined.
And now I found myself listening to Clint give me updates about his boring job as we approached the little town of Shadow Valley. “Not many options for dinner out here in the boonies, I guess. “ He said as we reached main street. It sounded as though he was being disparaging, and I suddenly felt a little defensive of the place I had called home for the past several weeks.
I had grown very fond of Shadow Valley already, with it's picturesque little downtown neighborhood. The beautiful mix of Victorian and Craftsman style homes that looked like gingerbread houses when they were covered in freshly fallen snow, the holiday bazaars that the whole town seemed to be involved in and the mom and pop diners with their home style cooking. All of the street lights had little wreathes with colorful bulbs in them, and snowmen of all shapes and sizes could be seen on every other corner.
When I had first arrived it had been immediately obvious that this place took the holidays seriously, but getting to know the residents had shown me that the people were genuine and cheerful. I had a feeling that they were like that all year round. This, this was a special town, and I didn't appreciate Clint talking about it with something close to disdain.
We eventually ended up at the Rusty Horseshoe, the same bar that Jasper had taken me dancing at only last week. The vivid recollection of our date there made me grin as we approached the saloon style front doors. Clint was apologizing to me about not being able to take me somewhere nicer, saying something about me deserving better than this, but everything else was already closed for the evening and this seemed to be the only option, etc. I realized that in his way he was attempting to pay me a compliment, but he didn't seem to notice that I was more comfortable in this hole in the wall bar than I had been at any of the five star restaurants that he had taken me to when we were together.
It occurred to me then that I had never given myself a chance to see outside of the world I built for myself back in the city. I'd thought all of those things were what I wanted. I mean, who doesn't look forward to fancy candlelit meals made by some of the worlds best chefs, going on lavish vacations or having a job with a prestigious title? Driving a luxury vehicle or dating a traditionally successful boyfriend from a well respected family? It had never occurred to me that I could be happy with anything less than these things, and I had dedicated my life so far to attaining them. But was that truly what I wanted? I just wasn't sure anymore.
We walked into the bar and found ourselves a seat at a table in the corner right under a mounted elk head with a Santa hat perched upon it and I found myself appreciating the charm of the simpler way of life I had been living since my arrival. Uncle Mark may have been wealthy, and his home was magnificent in every way, but despite the rustic opulence that had been surrounding me, there was a purity here that I knew I could never replicate in my old life.
Clint went to the bar and ordered us drinks, bringing back a whiskey, neat. For himself and a cosmopolitan for me. He hadn't even asked what I wanted. He never had in all the time I had known him. He was a man who was used to making decisions for himself and everyone around him. I had always let him do it too. I hated cosmopolitans, but I had spent the last three years drinking every single one that he had brought to me because it was what he thought I should be drinking. Maybe I was ready to order my own damn drink...
“So, Holly,” he started, not even bothering to ask me how I had been since he had last seen me. “I'll get right to the point. I'm sure you are anxious to hear why I have come all this way to talk to you.” He smiled at me smugly, absolutely sure that I was hanging on his every word like he had come to expect. I pushed the cosmo away from me on the lacquered wood tabletop and stared at him with a neutral expression. He waited a long time for me to answer; I guess he was trying to build the suspense or somethi
ng.
“Sure,” I finally replied. “I'll admit to being curious about why you've come here. The last time we spoke you were telling me that I was a really nice girl and that you had some good times with me over the last few years, but you 'Needed to explore your options before deciding if you wanted to be with me any longer.' or something like that. I assumed that meant we were pretty much over, so yeah, I'm a little surprised to see you here...”
Clint laughed. “Oh sweetie, I can see how it could be confusing. Let me catch you up to speed. Over the last few months that we've been apart I have been doing a lot of thinking. Our relationship was always pretty good, right? We make sense together. Your career compliments mine, you have the right style and you have always been pleasant. We could really be successful together. I just didn't know if settling down with you was the direction that I wanted my life to go in.” He paused and took a sip of his whiskey.
I wasn't sure were this was going, but I doubted I was going to like it.
“Well, I have been exploring my options recently. Sowing my wild oats if you will. And Holly, I've come to take you back to L.A. with me where you belong.”
“Wait, what?” I said. This was what he came all this way to say? What the actual fuck?
Clint grinned at me, his face illuminated by the pendant lamp above us in a way that threw shadows across his features in an almost sinister looking way. What had I ever seen in this man? Compared to Jameson, Spence or Jasper he was not even remotely in the same league.
“Oh, nothing to worry about dear. I played the field a little and weighed my options, but in the end I realized that what we had was good enough for me. It became abundantly clear that being with you makes the most sense, and I am finally prepared to commit.”
I was completely speechless. I just sat there in horror as his words washed over me. How had I wasted years with this prick? Did I really have such a low opinion of myself that I had let him treat me like an option for so long? Like I was on an audition for his affections?
“I can see that the time we've spent apart has been difficult for you too.” He continued. “If you felt like you had to come all the way out here to try and move on.” At this he gave me a sympathetic look, as if to say he knew how hard I must have found life without him. “If we were back in Los Angeles I would have taken you somewhere more appropriate to do this, but once I decided that this was what was best for us I just wanted to get it over with, so...”
He scooted out of his seat and walked to my side of the table.
Oh my God this was not happening right now.
He dropped to one knee and pulled out a little blue box from his coat pocket, holding it out and revealing the big diamond ring inside of it. “Holly McCall, will you marry me?”
I sat there stunned, my mouth agape. Thank God that the bar was empty but for us and the woman behind the counter who was playing on her cell phone at the moment and paying us no attention. I would have been mortified if there had been more witnesses to this.
Clint was looking at me expectantly, like we were in a play and he was waiting for me to remember my line.
I reached out my hand and closed the little box. His confidence faltered for the first time and he looked confused for the briefest moment, but then he seemed to decide that not getting what he wanted was an absurd notion and continued as though this was going just as he had planned it to. “So, that's a yes then? I've already talked to my father and he agreed to let us use the Santa Barbara beach house for the ceremony. I was thinking we could plan for mid august...”
“No, Clint.” I said.
“You don't want to have the wedding in August?” He said, getting up awkwardly and brushing his slacks off before sliding back into his seat across from me. “We can discuss it more later, of course. Is there a decent hotel around here? I could rescue you from another night on the farm and we could get a suite before heading home in the morning. I have our flight booked already, but we will have to leave early cause the damn airport is two hours away.”
“No, Clint. I didn't mean I don't want to get married in August. I meant I don't want to get married at all. Not to you.”
He froze. “What do you mean, you don't want to marry me? Why wouldn't you?” He looked genuinely flabbergasted at the idea that I would refuse him.
I sighed heavily and put a hand to my face in frustration. “Clint, we're not right for each other. And you aren't rescuing me from anything. I'm actually happy for the first time in years here. I thought I was happy when I was with you because on paper, you're right, we should be a good match. But I've learned a lot about myself since we broke up, and I don't think the life I was trying to make with you is what I ever even wanted, I had just convinced myself that it was because I didn't know any different. I am not going back with you, and I am not going to marry you. I deserve to be someones priority, not someones decent enough option.“
With each word I said Clint's face hardened a little more. He was not used to being told no, and he had never taken it well when he was. He stared at me coolly when I finished.
“What happened to you Holly?” He sneered, his mood tuning instantly sour. “Is there someone else? Was it that guy you were with at the farm? Do you have a thing for hicks now?”
“His name is Jameson,” I replied stoically, “And he's been better to me in three weeks than you were to me in three years.”
“I don't have to listen to this.” Clint said, standing up quickly. “You've lost your damn mind, Holly. If you want to go back to your precious farm then get in the fucking car and lets go.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
If I thought that the ride into town had been uncomfortable it was nothing compared to the atmosphere in the car now.
Clint sat in the leather clad and heated drivers seat staring intently ahead and refusing to look at or speak to me. He hadn't even turned on the radio to break the silence this time. I kept covertly glancing at him; his behavior making me more nervous by the minute. I had seen him mad before, and it was never a pleasant experience to be on the receiving end of it. He could be cold, cruel and intimidating, but I had never seen him this furious. He seemed to be getting angrier and angrier as we drove, gripping the wheel with white knuckles and breathing heavily. A dense snow started to fall in earnest outside, and the bright headlights were only illuminating a few feet of the road in front of us. Clint continued to increase the speed of the Range Rover as we hit the steep and winding lane that led back to my uncle's house, his foot pressing the gas pedal harder into the floor the more upset that he got.
My whole body was tense. To the right of the road was a small shoulder and a steep drop into the woods. If Clint continued to drive like a Goddamn maniac I wasn't sure we would even make it back to the farm at all.
“Slow the fuck down!” I finally snapped. “I know you're pissed off, but you don't have to kill us because you didn't get the answer you wanted!” God, all I wanted to do was get back and see my boys. I needed them to wrap me in their strong arms more than I ever had before.
We flew through another hairpin turn, the wheels of the SUV an inch from the edge of safety when Clint suddenly slammed his expensive loafer clad foot down on the brake pedal. We went into a terrifying skid, the car fishtailing uncontrollably for a hundred feet before finally coming to an abrupt stop. Half of the vehicle resting on the shoulder and the other half still in the road.
My heart thundered wildly in my chest, my breasts heaving as I tried to catch my breath. Clint turned his steel gray gaze on me and the cold expression on his face made my blood turn to ice in my veins. The sound of the door locks clicking rang in my ears louder than a gunshot. I was in much more danger that I had realized...
“Listen here you spoiled little bitch,” He growled in a low, dangerous voice, “I always get the answer I want.”
Before I had any time to react Clint was moving towards me, grabbing at my dark green cable knit sweater and attempting to pull me towards him. I think I screamed then, but
I'm not sure. I did manage to turn myself in my seat and reached with one hand for the door, using my other to try and push him away.
Before I had any time to react Clint was moving towards me, grabbing at my dark green cable knit sweater and attempting to pull me towards him. I think I screamed then, but I'm not sure. I did manage to turn myself in my seat and reach with one hand for the door, using my other to try and push him away.
My fingers closed on the handle and confirmed that it was indeed locked, something I had already known but had to be sure of. Clint had grabbed my other wrist in a vice grip; it felt like the delicate bones could break under the pressure.
“I am the best thing that ever happened to you, and you aren't even grateful, Holly.” He said, a manic tremble in his voice. “I'll teach you to be grateful.”
He reached his other hand towards me and I acted instinctively, turning quickly and head butting him directly on the bridge of the nose. I heard the satisfying sound of crunching bone and watched with satisfaction as blood began to pour from his nostrils. “Get the FUCK off of me! I said with as much authority as I could muster.
He released my wrist at last, putting both hands to his broken nose and letting out a howl of pain and rage. “I will fucking kill you, Holly! You're fucking dead!”
Suddenly the sound of shattering glass exploded around us. Clint had been nearly on top of me, but now he seemed to be being pulled backwards, dragged out of the busted drivers side window over the shards of jagged glass that still lined the frame. I was in a state of shock, not fully comprehending what was happening.
There was the sound of a scuffle outside, muffled by the thick snow. I sat there shaking like a leaf, too scared to move. The noises subsided after a minute, and an absolute silence fell, broken at last by the sound of footsteps on snow.
