By now, there were plenty of things I wanted to tell her, and none of them were nice. Working hard to keep my cool, I tossed the ball back into her court. "If you've got something to say, just say it."
"See, the thing is…maybe I'm not the one with something to say. Maybe you have something to say." She paused. "Maybe something you meant to tell me sooner?"
I had no clue what she meant. "About what?"
"The house."
My grip tightened on the phone. "If you're asking if I've changed my mind, I already gave you my answer."
And the answer was no. I wasn't going to sell her the house. The truth was, I'd been planning something better. But now, I was thinking that I'd dodged a bullet by waiting.
Something had gone off the rails. Or maybe, I'd been reading things wrong from the beginning.
Either way, this wasn't the Arden I knew. And now, I had to wonder, which one was the real deal? The girl I'd fallen for? Or the girl on the phone?
Because they weren't the same girl.
And now, she'd grown silent.
I said, "You still there?"
"Uh, yeah," she said. "Okay, how about this? If you won't sell me the whole house, maybe you'd think about selling me half?"
She was kidding, right? "What?"
"Or maybe," she continued, "you did think about selling me half, maybe even before I showed up. And maybe that's something you want to talk about now."
Or maybe I'd heard enough. "Half a house? You serious?"
"Of course I'm serious."
The more I heard, the shittier I felt. There was a time – hell just a few days ago – when sharing a house with Arden would've been nice to think about.
But not now. Not with whatever was going on.
On the phone, she was still talking. "I’m just saying, like in the beginning, maybe you didn't think everything through, like when you were buying it."
"Trust me. I thought plenty."
"Trust you?" she scoffed. "You're kidding, right?"
I wasn't kidding. I was insulted, and with good reason. "You done?"
"With what?"
"You tell me," I said. "Because you're acting like I screwed you over. And we both know that's not true."
Her tone grew sarcastic. "Oh, do we now?"
"I do," I said. "Don't you?"
"Oh, I know something."
"Uh-huh. What's that?"
"You're not the person you pretend to be."
"Yeah?" I said. "And neither are you."
"What do you mean by that?"
"Hell if I know," I said. "You called me to say what? That I screwed you over?"
Her voice grew quiet. "So…did you?"
By now, I was seriously pissed. "What do you think?"
"Well, I think you screwed me," she said with a choked sob. "I just don't know which way." And with that, she ended the call.
I looked at my phone for a long moment before hurling it across the kitchen. It hit the side wall, and the case popped off. As for rest of the phone, whether it was damaged or not, I didn't know, and I didn't care.
Whatever was going on, I'd had more than enough. And the way it sounded, so had she.
Good.
I didn't mean it. But it felt better to think that way, at least until the sun fell and the night closed in around me. And then, I had to ask myself, "What the hell was going on?"
Chapter 55
Arden
The next few days passed in a long, depressing blur, which really sucked – for me and for Cami, because no matter how hard I tried, I just knew that I was pathetic company.
Oh sure, I tried to be upbeat and not obsess too much over Brody, but the unhappy truth was, I couldn't help but feel sad and confused about the way things had turned out.
Adding to my confusion, I learned from Roy on Monday morning that Brody had made arrangements for me to have the whole week off – and with pay, too – so I could spend more time with my friend.
It was so thoughtful and so baffling at the same time. How could someone so dishonest do something so wonderful?
None of it made any sense. And now the unexpected time off was giving me way too many hours to dwell on how idiotic I'd been to get attached to Brody in the first place.
I should've known it was too good to be true.
Or rather, I should've known that he was too good to be true.
But now nothing felt good, especially as the days passed without any interaction between us – no calls, no texts, no nothing.
Meanwhile, festering in the back of my brain was the knowledge that Waverly was in California with him. She'd been chasing after him for months. Had she finally caught him?
I tried not to think about it.
Meanwhile, across the street, I saw construction crews coming and going – sometimes working late into the night.
I wanted to be part of it. And I wanted to crawl into a hole and hide.
With every passing day, I found myself caring less about the house and more about whatever was going on with Brody.
I missed him like crazy, especially at night, when I was alone in the living room. I'd been sleeping on the couch, having insisted on giving Cami my bedroom, which had the only private bathroom in the house.
As for my own sleeping arrangements, I'd opted for the sofa because Waverly's bedroom was probably off-limits, and the thought of sleeping in Brody's empty bed was too depressing to consider.
One night, while gazing up at the living room ceiling, I came to the embarrassing conclusion that if I had to choose between Brody and the house, I'd pick Brody a million times over, if only he'd come clean about what he'd done.
And hey, an apology might be nice, too.
Oh yeah. I was definitely pathetic. And I was making Cami feel pathetic, too. She never complained, but on Thursday, even her usually chipper mood took a sudden turn for the worse.
By the time we said our goodnights, she seemed just as depressed as I felt.
It was all my fault, and I decided I had to do better.
When the sun rose on Friday morning, I vowed that no matter what, I'd show Cami a good time. Even if it killed me, I'd be cheerful and upbeat. I wouldn't talk about Brody. I wouldn’t even think about Brody. I'd simply pretend that he never existed.
For starters, I got up and began making pancakes and bacon, intending to surprise Cami with her favorite breakfast.
I was just mixing up the pancake batter when I heard a quiet knocking sound. I paused in the mixing and glanced toward the front door. The knock had been so quiet, I wasn't sure that I'd heard it at all.
But soon, I heard it again.
I set down the mixing bowl and made my way to the living room. I cracked open the front window blinds and peered outside, only to frown in new confusion.
Standing on the front porch was a little girl, maybe seven or eight years old.
She was utterly alone.
What the heck?
I hustled to the door and answered before she could run off. Summoning up a smile, I said, "Hi."
She grinned up at me, revealing one missing front tooth. "Hi."
My pint-sized visitor had long brown hair, big brown eyes, and a smattering of freckles across her nose. She wore dark jeans, a pink T-shirt, pink sneakers, and a little black jean jacket.
I had no idea who she was, or what she was doing here. "So…are you looking for someone?"
"Sort of." She leaned forward. "But I'm not supposed to."
I hesitated. "Oh yeah? Why not?"
She glanced around before whispering, "Because I snuck out."
She was so adorable, I didn't know whether to laugh or call the police. "Really? From where?"
"Home, that's where." She frowned. "Veronica was asleep. Last night, she was up super late talking to her boyfriend. And she's not a morning person. That's what she told me on her first day." Her little eyebrows furrowed. "And on her second day, too. She says it a lot."
I nodded in encouragement. She'd just given me a
lot of information, even if very little of it was actually useful. Still, I made a point to smile. "So, who's Veronica?"
"She's my nanny. She doesn't want to be. But she still is."
I felt my brow wrinkle in new confusion. "Oh yeah?" In my whole life, I'd never met anyone with an actual nanny, even here on this street, where the waterfront homes tended to be a lot pricier than average.
I was no expert on nannies, but even I knew that Veronica had to be a pretty bad one if she'd lost track of her charge. And what was the deal about her not wanting to be this girl's nanny?
Had Veronica actually said that to her?
Even though I'd never met this Veronica person, I disliked her already.
Still, I smiled down at the little girl. "And what's your name?"
"Willow."
"Willow what?"
"Willow Taylor."
Taylor. Taylor…
I tried to think. Wasn't there a Taylor family a few doors down?
No. They were the Tylers.
I said, "By any chance, you don't mean Tyler, do you?"
Willow frowned up at me. "I know my own name, Silly."
"Oh. Of course you do. Sorry."
And just like that, she was smiling again. "That's okay. Veronica gets my name wrong, too."
I felt my jaw clench. Worst. Nanny. Ever.
Right then and there, I decided that when I tracked down this Veronica person, I'd tell her exactly what I thought of her nannyship. Or nannyhood. Or whatever it was called.
I asked Willow, "So, where do you live?"
Willow extended her arm and pointed somewhere off to the left.
I looked to where she pointed, but couldn’t be sure which house she meant. I pointed in the same direction. "So, that big blue house on the water?"
Willow shook her head. "Nope. Not that one."
I kept my smile plastered in place. "The yellow one next to it?"
Again, she shook her head. "Nope."
I hesitated. "But, um…I'm pretty sure that's where you pointed." Or at least, it was one of the two houses.
Willow gave a snort of laughter. "Yeah, but I live way past that."
"Oh." The longer this went on, the more concerned I was getting. It was barely seven o'clock in the morning, and she was out here on her own.
Surely someone would be looking for her. With a smile, I said, "How about I'll grab my shoes and walk you home?"
Willow peered around me and gave a long, drawn-out sniff. Her eyes brightened. "Is that bacon?"
I knew I liked this kid.
But then I froze. Oh, crap. The bacon.
I held up a finger. "Don't go anywhere, okay?"
And with that, I left the front door open and practically sprinted to the stove, where the bacon wasn't quite yet burnt. Frantically, I shut off the burner and moved the pan aside. And then, I sprinted down the hallway and knocked on the bedroom door where Cami was sleeping.
She had a whole bunch of siblings and a degree in primary education. If anyone could handle this, it was Cami.
Chapter 56
Brody
"I'll tell you why," Chase said. "She's playing you."
This wasn't what I wanted to hear, especially at seven o'clock on a Friday morning.
I'd just flown back from California, and I felt like shit.
It wasn't because of jet leg. It was because of Arden.
I'd been pissed off all week, and I was having a hard time shaking it. Rather than returning to the crew house, I'd gone instead to my condo for a change of clothes and some time to figure out what the hell I'd be doing next.
But instead of finding peace and quiet, I'd found Chase in my kitchen, drinking the last of my orange juice straight from the carton.
In the kitchen doorway, I'd stopped short at the sight of him. "What are you doing?"
"Drinking juice," he'd said, like it should be obvious. "What are you doing?"
"I just got back from California." Eyeing the carton in his hand, I'd asked, "And don't you have juice of your own?"
"Sure," he'd said, "but I've also got a guest, and she won't stop talking." With his free hand, he'd made yapping motions in the air. "Shit," he'd said with a laugh, "I thought she'd never shut up." But then, he'd frowned. "What's wrong with you?"
And like a dumb-ass, I'd actually told him. Even dumber, I'd asked for his opinion on why Arden had gone off the deep end.
And this is when he'd informed me that Arden was – in his words – playing me.
Fast forward to now. I told Chase, "You don't know that."
"Sure I do," he said. "You said she's nuts about the house, right?"
Oh, yeah. She was nuts, and not just about the house.
I'd been thinking that for years, until she'd shown me a different side, a side that I couldn’t get enough of, a side that, even now, I missed more than I should.
With a shrug, I replied, "Yeah, so?"
"So hey, you've got to give her credit for trying."
I frowned. "Trying what?"
"To get you thinking with your dick, and not the brain upstairs."
Shit.
All week, I'd been toying with the same theory – not liking it, but not willing to let it go either.
But I should've seen the signs.
After all, Arden wasn't the first girl to try such a stunt. For years, I'd been dealing with chicks pretending to be this or that. A few of them had worked it pretty hard, too, trying to convince me that they were "the one."
They weren't.
And the way it looked, neither was Arden, even if I'd been thinking just the opposite.
But I had to face facts. Chase was right, even if it wasn't what I wanted to hear.
With a scoff, I considered how Arden had been acting until just recently. And I did mean acting.
Nuts or not, she'd put on one hell of a show. When I considered all of the hours she'd spent looking at floor plans, paint samples, kitchen layouts, and shit-knows-what-else, I wanted to kick myself for not seeing through the act.
Good thing she couldn't keep it up.
If she'd been just a little more patient, I would've given her more than the house – and counted myself a lucky guy.
I wasn't feeling so lucky now.
In the kitchen, Chase said, "Aw come on. Girls are like busses, right?"
I was only half listening. "What?"
"Another one will roll up any minute." He glanced toward my condo's main door. "Hey, you want the rest of mine?"
I wasn't following. "Your what?"
"My date."
I gave him a look. "No."
"You sure?" He grinned. "She's hot and ready."
Chase and I never shared. I saw his twisted offer for what it was, an attempt to distract me from my own sorry mood.
I loved him for it, but that didn't mean it was working. The way I felt now, it would take more than a crude joke to make me laugh.
When my only reply was a tight smile, he added, "If you act now, I'll throw in a muzzle."
I didn't get it. "A muzzle?"
"Or ear-plugs," he said. "Like I said, she's a real yapper."
It was typical Chase.
He was full of shit, and we both knew it. I replied, "I'll pass, thanks."
"Eh, smart move," he said. "Get this. I'm supposed to be picking up breakfast."
I glanced toward the kitchen cupboard behind him. "I think there's cereal on the top shelf."
"Not anymore," he said. "I ate that on Wednesday."
I didn't get it. Chase had a shopping service, a maid, and plenty of women dying to cook for him. But what was he doing? Eating my cereal and drinking my juice.
But hey, to each his own.
It's not like I missed whatever he was taking. I had plenty of money and a shopping service of my own. I'd only been stopping by the condo a few times a week anyway – mostly to swap out clothes and pick up the mail.
And besides, it wasn't juice I wanted now. It was something with a lot more kick.
"What?"
He looked seriously rattled. "I've gotta go."
Chase had a thing for crazy chicks. From the look on his face, his so-called date had just threatened to light the bed on the fire. Hey, it wouldn't be the first time.
I said, "So your date wants you back, huh?"
Chase shook his head. "It wasn't her. It was Veronica."
I froze. "Willow's nanny? Why would she be texting you?"
"Because," Chase said, "she lost track of Willow, and she wants my help."
Chapter 57
Arden
Walking along the sidewalk, Cami pointed to the latest white two-story house. "Is that it?"
Willow shook her head. "Nope."
Cami and I were walking side-by-side with Willow between us. Already, we'd traveled nearly half a mile and had passed at least ten houses matching that description.
Over Willow's head, Cami and I exchanged a look.
No doubt, she was thinking the same thing I was thinking. Maybe we should've called the police.
But for Willow's sake, we hadn't. Instead, we'd decided to escort her safely home and take it from there.
There was only one problem. We couldn’t seem to find Willow's home.
It didn't help that she didn't know her own address or a family phone number. But she had given us a description of where she lived.
According to Willow, she lived in big white house that had an upstairs and a downstairs. And she lived on the water.
It sounded simple enough. And yet, she hadn't recognized any of the houses we'd passed.
And by now, we'd passed plenty.
With a strained smile, Cami looked to Willow and asked, "Are we getting close?"
Willow was skipping along between us. Without missing a beat, she replied, "Nope."
The funny thing was, she seemed to be having a terrific time. I could see why, too.
Until just a couple of minutes ago, Cami had been entertaining both of us with a whole series of knock-knock jokes. But now, after twenty minutes of fruitless searching, even Cami had grown mostly silent.
Me too, and with good reason.
Someone was missing a kid. And if we didn't find out who, we'd need to do more than simply walk her home. And what if Willow was in some sort of trouble?
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