Closure

by A. P. Jensen

  “I don’t want to talk about Dominick,” Juliet said and tried on several things before she realized everything looked wrong on her slender frame.

  “We can find something at the shop,” Maile said as she eyed Juliet in a skirt that she could wear as a dress. “The store is closed so no one’s around.” Maile checked her ass out in the mirror.

  The skirt was better than Dominick’s shirt so she relented. She slid her fingers through her hair and caught the keys Maile tossed her as they headed outside. She watched Maile cross the yard in heels to a 1988 Ford Bronco. Maile hauled herself into the cab without effort. The afternoon sun cast the plants in an orange glow that made everything seem rich and unreal.

  “I can’t believe you still have that Bronco!” Juliet shouted as Maile cranked up the engine.

  “Bet your ass! Do you know how many men have lost their virginities in here? He’s famous.”

  “You mean infamous.”

  “Whatever you say, Jane Austen. Hurry up so we can get to the store and then I have to meet Bennie.”

  Juliet walked to the bug that was parked on the side of the house. The windows of the bug were grimy and the interior was covered in a thin layer of dirt. Juliet shook out beach towels tossed carelessly on the seats and turned the key in the ignition, half expecting it not to work. The little car roared to life and the gears ground together as she shifted. She rolled down the windows and moved at a snail’s pace down the muddy drive. Maile did a fist pump out of her window. The Bronco spit up mud as it started down the dirt road. Maile hadn’t changed. Her clothes were more refined and adult, but she was still a manipulator and voracious man eater.

  Despite the fact that the bug looked as if it hadn’t been driven in a decade, it accelerated smoothly on the highway. Juliet blew out a sigh of relief. She rolled down the window and took a deep breath of fresh air. No matter how far she traveled, she would never forget the smell of home.

  The drive into town took less than ten minutes. Maile pulled up to a small, deserted shopping center that contained a nail salon, a payday loan place and a second-hand bookstore. The middle store had a big sign that read, Sassy & Classy. Juliet had no doubt which store was Maile’s even before she parked in front of it. The windows of the store had a mix of designer clothes and Aloha wear.

  Maile strolled up and waggled her brows at Juliet. “Not bad for a 3.0 GPA, huh?”

  “I’m proud of you,” Juliet said.

  Maile grinned as she opened up the store with a flourish and ushered her inside. “This is my slice of heaven.”

  Sassy & Classy was overwhelming. It was kind of like Maile—eclectic, messy and in your face. Hats, statues, paintings, ceramics and more decorated every inch of wall space. There were shoes, purses, jewelry and endless racks of clothes. It was a mix of cultures, antiques and modern pieces. Juliet stopped in her tracks, stunned.

  “Huh?” Maile said gleefully and elbowed Juliet in the side. “What do you think?”

  “It’s… a lot,” Juliet said.

  “Yeah.” Maile surveyed the shop with pride. “You don’t want to know how much I have in storage.”

  “What?”

  “People keep bringing their things. The shop can’t hold everything and I can’t stop myself from going to estate sales. I’m thinking of opening another shop. It’ll be more like Pier 1. You know, all the home decor stuff can go to that store and I can start taking in furniture.”

  “You want to open another store?”

  “Yeah, but I’m not sure…” Maile waved her hands. “We can talk about that later. Go find something to wear.”

  It took Juliet ten minutes to figure out how everything was organized. She was pleasantly surprised when she found several options. There were designer labels mixed in with the ultra-ordinary. In short order, Juliet found several outfits. She was perusing though the pajamas when Maile dragged her over to the register. Behind the counter, it was utter chaos. Receipts littered the ground along with paperclips, price tags, assorted nuts and tissue paper. There were untidy piles of papers everywhere.

  “So, yeah,” Maile said, tapping her lip. “I haven’t been able to figure this out for a while. The consignors get thirty-five percent of the sale and they show up and I cut checks or pay them cash if it’s under a certain amount so my money’s all over the place. I think everything’s here, but I haven’t had the time to sort through the finances.”

  “How long has it been?”

  “A year? Maybe two.”

  Juliet gawked at her. “What? How can you run your business if you don’t know how much profit you’re making?”

  “I work here five days a week and I have another girl that works on Saturday’s and fills in when I need it. There’s always money in my account so I pay the bills and that’s it. But, now that I want to open a second store…”

  “You need someone to look at the finances and see if you can afford it,” Juliet finished.

  There was an ancient computer, dirty keyboard and a calendar scribbled with appointments. Juliet’s eyes stopped on a well-used receipt book. Juliet pointed at it.

  “Please tell me that you don’t make sales that way. Everything’s in the computer, right?”

  “Sometimes the computer doesn’t work. You know I’ve never been good with technology. I have an ancient flip phone.”

  “You can’t be serious.”

  “What’s the big deal? Sometimes it’s easier to do it on paper than on that damn computer.”

  Juliet didn’t know whether to laugh or strangle her. “Maile.” She didn’t know what else to say and could feel another headache coming on.

  “What?”

  “This is gonna take me…” She gestured wildly.

  “Well, you’re not going anywhere anytime soon.”

  “You don’t know that.”

  Maile gave her a smug grin. “I still have your ID.”

  “Bitch.”

  Maile glanced at her watch. “Play time’s over. Whatever clothes you want, take off the tags and put them in that bag over there. I’ll take them out of the system tomorrow. We open at nine.”

  “Where should I start?” Juliet asked.

  Maile tapped her lips and then went into a cabinet and grabbed a dusty stack of papers. “I think these are the oldest.”

  “How am I supposed to work on this? I need access to your files.”

  “You do?”

  “Yes,” Juliet stressed.

  “I’ll buy you a laptop.”

  “What? You don’t have to—”

  “What else do you need?”

  “I guess I can sift through this first and we’ll see what happens,” Juliet muttered.

  “Here.” Maile cut the tags off the shirt she wore and clapped her hands together. “Okay, I have to go. What are you going to do?”

  Juliet had been thinking about that. “Does Hunter Lindsey still live here?”

  “Yeah, he owns the only bar in town,” Maile said carelessly and froze. “You’re gonna talk to Hunter? Does he know?”

  “I don’t know. I want to find out.”

  “Hunter isn’t a warm and cuddly guy,” Maile warned.

  “Why am I not surprised?”

  Maile sighed. “I have to say, though, Hunter is hot. He has that broody thing going on like Dominick. If I could get them together—” Maile giggled when Juliet blanched. She flicked Juliet on the forehead and snatched her purse. “When did you turn into such a prude? I’ll have to work on corrupting you again.”

  Juliet couldn’t stop the small smile that curved her mouth.

  “Good luck with Hunter,” Maile said with heartfelt sincerity. “Tell him I’d like to do him, okay?”

  “I’ll remember that,” Juliet said dryly.

  They shuffled out of the store. Juliet tossed her new clothes and paperwork in the trunk.

  “Hang my sheets on the line when you get home, will you?” Maile said.

  Juliet watched Maile roar away and shook her head. Home? Jul
iet got into the driver’s seat and sighed. Her life was fucking crazy.

  The bar was easy enough to find. It was a small building across the parking lot from one of the two grocery stores in town. There were several trucks and a Mercedes in the parking lot. Christmas lights decorated the window and the sign above the door read, Hunter’s Bar. Juliet braced herself before she went in.

  The bar was dimly lit and clean. Eight men congregated around a pool table in the corner. Lineman, cowboys, fisherman, construction workers and one guy in a suit that didn’t belong watched her approach the U-shaped bar. The man behind the counter was covered in Polynesian tattoos from neck to ankles. He had a thick beard, ponytail and hypnotic green eyes. He took his time arranging glasses beneath the bar before he ambled over.

  “What do you want?” Hunter asked.

  “Whatever’s on tap.”

  He eyed her a moment before he walked away. He grabbed a frosty glass from the freezer, filled it with foamy liquid and set it in front of her with a bowl of peanuts. He didn’t move away as she took her first sip. She didn’t really want a beer since her hangover was just beginning to fade, but she couldn’t enter a bar and not drink.

  “I’m Juliet.”

  Hunter crossed his arms over his beefy chest and imitated a wooden statue. She could see what Maile meant by ‘Hunter isn’t a warm and cuddly guy.’ He sure wasn’t. They were only two years apart, but they never crossed paths until now.

  “You know who I am?” Juliet persisted when he continued to give her that deadpan stare.

  Hunter nodded and she leaned in, waiting for him to speak. Thirty-seconds passed before she realized he wasn’t going to elaborate.

  “I’m visiting so I thought I’d introduce myself.” Juliet paused to give him time to jump into the one-sided conversation.

  Hunter didn’t move, speak or show any reaction to her words. Is this how he normally was or was she getting special treatment?

  “I didn’t know,” Juliet said with heavy emphasis and widened her eyes to convey her meaning.

  “Know what?” he growled.

  He wasn’t going to make this easy on her, was he? “About Margaret.”

  Hunter shrugged. “She died when I was a kid.”

  “Did you know about me?” When he nodded again, Juliet’s eyes narrowed. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “What for?”

  “What for?” she echoed incredulously. “You don’t think I deserved to know the truth?”

  “You had the luxury of not knowing,” Hunter said. “I didn’t.”

  He was raised by Nora and from what Juliet witnessed, she hadn’t been a bundle of laughs. Nora probably shoved religion and rules down his throat daily. Maybe that’s why he was imitating The Terminator. She opened her mouth to ask about Nora. Abruptly, Hunter turned away and disappeared through the double doors that led into the kitchen.

  “Nice talking to you,” she muttered.

  So much for making a connection with her half-sibling. She never fit in with the perfect Grants so she foolishly imagined having this instant connection with Hunter. Clearly, that wasn’t going to happen. Hunter looked like the Hawaiian Mountain man version of The Rock and was obviously doing well for himself if he owned a bar. Maybe she wasn’t meant to have family.

  Juliet debated whether she should leave. Before she could decide, she was assailed by the smell of whiskey a moment before the man in the suit plopped onto the stool beside her. The top three buttons of his shirt were undone and he reeked. Apparently, he’d been drinking for a while despite the early hour. He was relatively good-looking with blonde hair and green eyes, but he wasn’t much taller than her, which put him around five foot seven.

  “Aren’t you pretty?” he asked.

  Juliet said nothing and waited for him to take the hint. She’d been dealing with his type since she was in diapers. He was rich and used to impressing women with his money and status. He finished off his drink and slapped the glass down on the bar so hard, she was surprised it didn’t crack. He wanted a reaction. Did he want to scare or impress her? Not in the mood to avoid a fight, Juliet turned her head to look at him. Touch me, she silently urged. I’m dying to punch someone.

  He frowned. “Do you know who I am?”

  “I don’t care who you are. I’m not in the mood. Leave me alone.” She looked at the door to the kitchen. What the hell was Hunter doing back there? She stiffened when the drunk leaned forward.

  “You don’t talk to me like that,” he ordered.

  Juliet gripped her half empty beer bottle by the neck. “I can talk to you any way I want.”

  “You don’t know who you’re dealing with.”

  “Neither do you,” she said softly.

  Rage rippled over his face as he reached for her. She raised the bottle to bash over his head, but someone yanked her backwards off the stool. She landed against a hard chest and tried to stomp the interfering bastard’s foot, but he lifted her as easily as if she were a stuffed animal. She looked up and blinked when she saw Dominick.

  “Freddy,” Dominick said coolly.

  The man in the suit took a step back. “Bryson.”

  “Better get the hell out of here before Hunter throws you out again.”

  Freddy sneered. “I’ll leave when I’m damn well ready.”

  “Fine.” Dominick settled Juliet on a stool and took the one beside her. He turned his back on Freddy as if he were harmless. “So, we meet again.”

  “Apparently.” Juliet glared as Freddy staggered out of the bar. “I could’ve handled that ass.”

  “I noticed, but I don’t think Callie wants to make a trip to the hospital.”

  That got her attention. “What does Callie have to do with that drunk?”

  “Freddy is Callie’s husband.” When Juliet stared at him without comprehension, Dominick tried again. “Your brother-in-law.”

  Juliet tried to go after Freddy, but Dominick hooked his finger in her belt loops and forced her to sit.

  “It’s stupid to confront him now. He’s a mean drunk,” Dominick said.

  “And a cheater! How could Callie marry someone like that?”

  “Nice people marry assholes all the time,” Dominick said.

  Hunter came out of the kitchen and set a basket of fries and burger in front of her. When Juliet stared at him, Hunter scowled, got her another beer and disappeared in the kitchen without asking Dominick what he wanted.

  “What’s up with Oscar?” Juliet asked with a chin jerk in the direction of Mr. Congeniality. She took a bite of her burger and closed her eyes in ecstasy. The bun was toasted with butter and the sauce was tangy, sweet and perfect. Okay, so maybe Hunter had the personality of a rock, but he could cook.

  “Hunter doesn’t say much.”

  “You don’t say,” she drawled. She ate fries covered in garlic and bounced in her seat. “This is amazing.”

  “This is the best place to eat after a hang over,” Dominick said and cocked his head to the side. “Hungry, are you?”

  “You have no idea.”

  Hunter reappeared with the same order for Dominick and handed him a beer before he headed to the pool table. She was disturbed by the scene with Freddy. He was an ego maniac who wouldn’t take no for an answer. Gray must have approved of Freddy. That was the only way Callie would marry him. Juliet raked her mind for the tidbit Maile dropped at the wedding. Didn’t she say Callie’s husband was COO of Grant Shipping? Brent had to know that Freddy was an aggressive alcoholic, so why was he still working for the family business? What the hell was going on here?

  “Where’s Maile?” Dominick asked.

  “On a date with Bennie.” Juliet pushed away her questions about Callie and Freddy and focused on the man who played white knight far too frequently. She liked men uncomplicated and predictable. It didn’t take more than a couple minutes in Dominick’s presence to know he wasn’t easy. He was a man’s man and appeared to be easy-going, but he had alpha written all over him. He didn’
t try to fill the silence with bullshit. He was content to go along with her crazy antics and save her from herself or a drunk in a bar even though he didn’t know her. “Who the hell are you?”

  He didn’t shift his attention from his food. “I’m Dominick Bryson.”

  “And?”

  He glanced at her. “I’m a contractor.”

  “And you’re Lee’s best friend.”

  “Yup.”

  “Why aren’t you married?” she asked and gave him points for not giving her a horrified look.

  “Why aren’t you married?”

  “Workaholic. What’s your excuse?”

  “The same,” he said easily. “Most of my projects are at the hotels so I’m rarely in town and I don’t have a lot of downtime. I was married once. Didn’t work out.”

  “You were married to a local?”

  “No, I’m originally from Alaska and went to college in California. That’s where I met my wife. I moved to Hawaii after we divorced.”

  “And how do you know Lee?”

  “We know each other through business. After the divorce, Lee asked me if I wanted to start fresh so I moved here permanently.”

  “And you like it here?”

  “It’s where I belong,” he said simply.

  She felt a stab of envy. “That must be nice, knowing your place.”

  “It must be strange coming back after all this time.”

  Juliet swung her foot lazily. The food and drink soothed her as nothing else could. The dimly lit room and the country music on the radio invited her to confide in the man beside her.

  “It is, but some things haven’t changed.”

  “Like what?”

  “Maile’s the same.”

  “How long did Maile con you into staying?” Dominick asked.

  She shot him a wry look. “You know her well, don’t you?”

  “Enough to know to steer clear of her. I watched her get you drunk and then hand you to me on a platter. I still don’t know what to make of her.”

  She grunted. “I should murder her and get it over with.”

  “How long are you staying?”

  “Until Callie gives birth, so, a couple of weeks.” Her mood darkened when she thought about Freddy. She and Callie had a lot to talk about. How did one broach the subject about a cheating husband to a woman who was about to give birth to his child?