“I never thought of it that way.”
“It’s not just about the naughtiness or the sex. At least once a week a woman will confess to me that she’s never had an orgasm. Can you even imagine life without orgasms?”
“No,” he said flatly. “That’s not something men have to worry about.”
“Exactly! And those are just the women who are brave enough to come into the store. There are so many who aren’t.”
“Is that why you write the column?”
Her eyes popped open. No, that wasn’t why she wrote the column. She did that because Annabelle had asked her to, and because it was good publicity for the store. Maybe that was why her heart wasn’t in it. “Whatever happens, I’ll figure it out,” she said. “But I was a little lost today. So thanks for meeting me.”
“Of course. It was no problem.”
She laughed at the wry humor in his voice. Here was the perfect chance to end the conversation. To get up and make noise about going back to the store. But Beth just lay there and held tight to Eric’s hand. She couldn’t trust that he wouldn’t hurt her, but she knew without a doubt that she felt safe right now, and it had been a very long time since anyone had given her that.
“I know you must be busy,” she whispered. “But if you’re not, can I see you tonight?”
He watched her, waiting for her to meet his eyes, but she couldn’t look. She couldn’t. “I told you I’d give you anything you want,” he said.
Beth turned her head away so he wouldn’t see the tear that slipped down her cheek. It wasn’t sadness. It was just relief.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
SHE DROVE STRAIGHT BACK to the store, her relaxation sneaking away with each second. It was almost three and she couldn’t be late for her meeting, but she just wanted to be alone for a few more minutes.
And, if she was being truthful with herself, she wanted to put off going back to work. When Eric had asked, she’d been honest about her reasons for loving the White Orchid. But some of those reasons were starting to fade, taken over by the feeling that she was faking her way through every day.
She also didn’t want to let go of her afternoon with Eric. Her pulse sped at the thought of him. She’d see him again tonight, which was both thrilling and frightening. They were getting too close, too fast. Still, she wanted more. More time and sex and secret moments. More of this life she’d never had before.
She rolled down her window, knowing her hair would be a wild mess, but she didn’t care. Maybe they’d all think she’d been rolling around in bed. Maybe she’d let them.
She pulled up to the store at 2:58, acutely aware that in four more hours she’d be leaving again, going back to him. To his place this time, to his bed. Was he thinking about her right now? The idea that he’d read her columns, that he thought of her when she wasn’t with him… Did he fantasize about her the way she had him?
Beth was so distracted by her thoughts as she grabbed her purse and got out of her car, she didn’t notice the man who emerged from the backseat of an SUV a few spaces down. Not until he said her name.
“Beth,” the man barked. She stumbled to a halt as Roland Kendall strode toward her.
She took a step backward, casting a quick glance around to be sure they weren’t alone. But it was a busy afternoon. The door of the shop opened and customers walked out. A runner passed by on the sidewalk. She wasn’t alone.
“What do you want?” she asked.
“I want you to drop this.”
She took another step back, hoping to put some distance between them. His balding head was flushed red, his narrow eyes glinting with anger.
“This isn’t about me, Mr. Kendall. The police have all the information.”
“You did this,” he snapped. “And you’ll fix it.”
“That doesn’t make any sense. They already know what Monica said. I can’t take that back, even if I wanted to.”
“You can’t take it back, but you can fix it. And you will.”
She shook her head. “No, I—”
“Call the detective and tell him you lied. Tell him you made it up because you’ve always hated Monica and you wanted to hurt her.”
“He won’t believe me.”
“It doesn’t matter. If you take it back, they can’t use it in court. You’ll be a labeled an unreliable witness, just as you should be.”
Beth was tired of backing away, so she stood her ground and put her hands on her hips. “I’m not going to lie to the police for Monica. She’s the one who dragged me into this, and I’m not exactly happy about that.”
“You misunderstood her,” he countered. “Whatever you think she said—”
“I know what she said. I was there. And it’s not fair for you to treat me like the criminal when Graham and Monica are—”
Roland’s hand shot out and wrapped around her wrist before she could pull away from him. “I like you, Beth. I always have, but I will not let you ruin Monica’s life. I will ruin this store and I’ll ruin you.”
“Let go of me.” She pulled back hard, and her wrist slipped through his hold. “Get out of here.”
“Listen to me. Graham is gone. There’s nothing I can do for him. But I won’t have Monica dragged into this. Please.”
Beth froze at that word. A word she’d never heard pass Roland Kendall’s lips. This man who’d always seemed impervious and cocky—for a moment, fear flashed in his eyes.
Beth couldn’t help her surge of sympathy. She’d known him for too long. “They want him. Graham. That’s all.”
“I can’t betray him. He’s my son.”
“I’m sorry.” She clutched her purse tight beneath her arm and edged around him. “I can’t help you.”
“This is my family,” he snarled. She kept walking, but his next words made her stop. “I’d think you’d understand about family, considering how much you love your father. Children might not always do the right thing, but we still love them.”
She spun back to face him. “What are you talking about?”
“I had a lovely dinner with your father the other night. I wanted to find out what was going on in your life that would make you lash out at old friends like this.”
Beth shook her head. No. This couldn’t be right. Her dad had gone to dinner with an old friend. He’d said, You wouldn’t believe who called me….
“Your father looks great, by the way. And he couldn’t stop talking about you. But I was confused.”
“No,” she murmured.
“He has some strange ideas about what you do for a living.”
“Did you tell him?” she asked, skipping any protests or denial. Roland Kendall hadn’t made millions of dollars in the past decade because he was an idiot.
“I didn’t tell him. But I will.”
She’d misunderstood his plans. Or simply underestimated him. Yes, he could hurt the store, but that was long-term revenge. But here was a threat that could be acted upon with nothing more than a phone call.
“Call the detective and tell him you lied,” Kendall said. “I don’t want to do this to you, but I will.”
Beth walked away without responding. What was there to say? She wasn’t going to beg this man, but she realized she also hadn’t said no. Before she even made it through the doors of the store, Kendall had stalked back to his SUV. A driver hopped out and opened his door.
The man had a driver and plane and God knew how many houses. And she’d made an enemy of him. It didn’t matter that she’d done the right thing. He’d probably ruined people for far smaller things than hurting his family.
Thankfully, the meeting with the lighting guy took only a few minutes, because Beth’s mind was spinning. As soon as he left, she called her dad, trying to keep the panic from her voice.
“Beth!” he said with such happiness in his voice that she had to swallow tears. “How are you?”
“I’m good, Dad.”
“I’ve been meaning to call you. I can’t tell you how much I liked your
gentleman friend. He’s exactly the kind of man you should be seeing. Serious, smart.”
“Dad, we’re only friends. I need to ask—”
“Then you should do your best to make it more. You’re thirty-five now. It’s time to settle down.”
She clenched her eyes shut. “Who did you go to dinner with the other night?”
“I thought I told you! It was Roland Kendall. Can you believe that? The last time I saw him was at your graduation. He took us all to dinner afterward. In fact, I tried to pay for dinner this time, but he insisted, and I confess, I let him. He can afford it, after all.”
“Dad… What did you talk about?”
“Oh, what old men always talk about. Our families, our lives. We both want grandchildren, of course. We laughed that both our daughters had forgotten the important things in life. Speaking of which, that Eric really likes you. I think there’s more to this than you’re revealing to your father.”
She pressed her palm to her forehead. So much more.
“I’m proud of you. I worried for a while. After all that nonsense. You work too hard, and you never come home. But you’re a good girl. I know you’ll end up with a good man and a good life.”
She pressed her hand harder to her head, trying to counter the pressure inside. “Daddy,” she whispered. “I’m not…I…”
“Oh, I know you don’t want to talk about it now, but it’ll happen. You two were trying so hard to hide it. I had trouble keeping a straight face!”
He sounded so happy. And proud. That she wasn’t an unwanted single woman. That her horrid indiscretion was far behind her. That she might actually make him proud by marrying a nice man and settling down. He sounded the way he used to sound, before she’d broken his heart and his pride and almost destroyed his love for her.
And for a brief moment—just one heartbeat—Beth hated him.
“Dad, I’ve got to go.”
“Hold on. Your mother wants to speak with you.”
“No—” But it was too late. She could already hear her mother’s giggle as she picked up the phone.
“Your father tells me you’re dating a nice young man who owns his own business! Oh, Beth. Your dad was so impressed with him.”
Her mom started on about the pie, and Beth held herself very still, hating the way her heart sped as if she were an eager puppy being praised. Eighteen years ago, her father’s approval would’ve changed everything. Now she was just sorry that she still wanted it so much.
And she could have it. She could leave the White Orchid, date a nice preppy guy like Eric, settle down, find a job she wouldn’t have to keep secret. And that incident in high school would never be thought of again. It would cease to exist, overshadowed by the fact that she’d turned out to be a good girl, after all.
This was her chance. She could start over. Walk away from a life that no longer felt as though it fit.
But the trouble was that nothing fit her anymore. Good girl, bad girl, prude or slut. She wasn’t any of those things. Or she was all of them.
“Mom,” she finally cut in. “I’ve got to get back to work.”
She hung up and squeezed her eyes shut.
Hell, she didn’t even know what she wanted anymore. Ten years ago, she would’ve been relieved if she were forced to tell her father the truth. But the last few years had been nice. Comfortable. She finally felt close to him again, and now Kendall was going to ruin it. Her father would be mortified and ashamed. Her mom would flutter around like an upset bird as he called her terrible names. Beth wasn’t sure she could do that again. But she couldn’t imagine lying for his approval anymore, either.
Cairo popped into her office. “Hey, can I take my break?”
“Yes, I’m sorry. Of course.” Beth forced herself to smile as she smoothed down her hair and stood up.
“You need some blush,” Cairo said before disappearing.
God, she needed a lot more than that. But Beth got out her compact and dusted blush on her pale face before adding a little color to her lips. She looked perfectly normal. Confident and poised and successful. She looked like a fraud. But she strode out to the floor with a smile, winking at Cairo to let her know she was free.
“Can I help you?” she asked a nervous woman who was clutching her purse in two hands, eyes wide as she looked over the piercing display.
“Oh!” She jumped a little, but her face relaxed when she saw Beth’s smile. “Hi. I don’t know. I’m just looking, I think.”
“For anything in particular?”
The woman blinked several times, her hands tightening on the purse. She looked about twenty-five. An engagement ring glinted on her finger, but other than that, she wore no jewelry or makeup. A woman who wasn’t looking to be noticed.
Beth leaned a tiny bit closer. “It’s okay,” she whispered. “Look around. It’s only women here this afternoon. If you have any questions, you can ask me.”
Her hazel-gold eyes swept the room before focusing back on Beth. “Okay. Um. I wanted to look at…um…massagers? But I don’t see any. Do you…?”
“They’re right in back behind that curtain.”
“Oh!” Her eyes went even wider.
Beth gave her the gentlest smile she could manage. “There’s no one in there right now, so if you’d like, you can go look by yourself for a little while. I’ll come in and see if you have any questions in a few minutes. How does that sound?”
“I… Okay. I guess that would be good.” She hurried toward the curtain as if she were afraid she’d lose her courage.
Beth wondered if the woman’s fiancé knew she was here. Probably not. Most of them didn’t. In fact, according to her customers, a lot of men were intimidated by the idea of a woman finding pleasure with something that didn’t involve them.
Eric definitely didn’t have that problem. That man had sexual confidence in spades. Or at least bravado. Same outcome, as far as she was concerned.
That part with him was easy, at least. But what would she say to him about Kendall? The truth? A lie? Nothing at all?
She wouldn’t know until she decided what the truth was for herself.
Did she want this store? Was she still a part of it? She thought about it the rest of the day. The shy woman bought herself a surprisingly large and detailed vibrator, her cheeks flaming scarlet-red the whole time. A group of friends came in to buy supplies for a bachelorette party. And Simone Parker came back in without her badge to buy a gorgeous white lace bra.
It was a good day. A happy day. But at the end of it, Beth still had no idea what she would do.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
ERIC WENT BACK TO WORK, because he didn’t know what the hell else to do with himself. He had hours to kill before he saw Beth again, and his shower took only five minutes, and cleaning up his condo took only ten, so he shrugged on a Donovan Brothers T-shirt and jeans and headed to the brewery.
A good thing, considering that he walked into a disaster zone. As soon as he opened the back door, smoke billowed into his face. “What the hell’s going on here?” he barked, waving his hand in front of him as he rushed inside.
“It’s fine!” Jamie’s voice shouted from the vicinity of the new oven.
“Fine? I’m calling 911!”
“There’s no fire, damn it! Just open the back door before the sprinklers go off!”
Eric spun around and dove for the door, propping it open with a cement block they kept nearby. By the time he ran back in, the smoke was already starting to clear.
“Jamie, what the hell?”
“The exhaust malfunctioned.”
“Well, shut the damn thing down!”
Jamie threw him a disgusted glare. “It’s a wood-burning oven, Eric. I can’t throw a switch.”
“I told you we should’ve gone with gas.”
“And I told you that the wood adds more authentic flavor. But we both know you don’t give a shit about the food, right?”
“Yeah.” Eric laughed. “I actually care a lot more
about not burning the brewery down than I do about your fucking pizzas, Jamie. Big surprise.”
“It’s just the exhaust. Nothing was burning down.”
“And now what? Just hope it doesn’t happen again?”
“Obviously,” Jamie said through clenched teeth. “I’m going to call the rep right now. But I’ve got the vent locked open, so it’s fine. All right?”
“No!” Eric shouted. “It’s not all right. None of this is all right. Wallace is gone. The line is screwed. You almost burned the place down. And in a few weeks…” Eric forced himself not to say it.
Jamie threw the wrench he was holding into one of the cabinets. The crash prompted Chester to poke his head through the double doors. “Guys? Everything okay?”
“I got the exhaust fixed,” Jamie growled.
“Okay.” Chester looked doubtfully between Jamie and Eric before nodding. “Sure. I’ll just leave you alone then.”
As soon as the doors closed, Jamie stalked forward. “In a few weeks, what?”
“Nothing,” Eric muttered.
“Bull. I know exactly what you were going to say, and I am so sick of your shit, Eric. You agreed to this. I’m not asking you to jump in and pretend it’s your lifelong dream, but if you don’t get that fucking chip off your shoulder, I will knock it off.”
“We going to fight again?” Eric snapped.
“If we need to, I’m fully prepared to kick your ass. But I’d rather you just live up to the agreement you made this summer.”
“We didn’t make an agreement.”
“You said you’d support me.”
“And I haven’t?” Eric threw his hands up. “How much money have we invested in this? I’ve agreed to everything you wanted. The menu and the concept. The new tables, the new front deck. The oven and fridge and freezer. We’re doing everything you want!”
“And you resent every damn minute of it.”
“I don’t. I don’t resent it. It just has nothing to do with me.”
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