The Sweet Talker

by Cathryn Fox

  We head outside, and Brody walks me to the passenger side, gentleman that he is. In the car, on our way home—my goodness I’m actually calling my loft, our home—my phone pings. I tug it from my purse and find a message from Kayley. I text her back.

  “Everything okay?” Brody asks.

  “Yeah, that was Kayley, wishing me a Merry Christmas.”

  I lean my head back, and briefly close my eyes, a flood of emotions washing over me.

  “You like your new phone?”

  “I do, but…”

  He casts a quick glance my way his brow furrowed. “But what?”

  With my head resting on the seat I roll it toward him, and the rain comes down harder on the roof of the car. But I don’t mind it. It’s cozy and the sound soothes my soul. “Jon, my late…” My words fall off as a lump jumps into my throat. “He left a voice message for me on my old phone.” It’s hard to tell in the dashboard light, but I swear the color just drained from Brody’s face. I cringe, thinking how cruel I was the day we met. He didn’t deserve my outbursts, and now, from the tightening of his body, it’s easy to see he blames himself. “It’s not your fault,” I tell him quickly. “I was the one who dropped it, long before you splashed me.”

  “You didn’t back up your phone?”

  “I tried. My laptop is so old, and it crashes a lot. I’ve been busy and never had time to get a new one.”

  “What did the message say?”

  “I don’t know. I could never bring myself to listen to it, and now I’ll never know.”

  “Josie,” he says, his voice low, strained, almost unrecognizable. He pulls up in front of the shop, kills the engine and he looks stricken as he turns to me. “I need to talk to you.”

  “Can I ask you something first?”

  “Okay.”

  “Was I…did you…I mean, you didn’t bring me tonight so you wouldn’t be paired with Eugenie, did you?”

  His shoulders go stiff. “Who told you that?” he blurts out, his tone full of accusation.

  My heart stops beating at his reaction—or rather, overreaction. “Brody. It’s a simple question.”

  He sucks in a fast breath and my stomach clenches. He glances down, but I already know his answer is going to crush my already fragile heart. “It’s not what you think.”

  “So you didn’t bring me to avoid being paired with Declan’s cousin?”

  His head lifts, and he stares straight ahead. His fingers tighten on the steering wheel, and my blood drains to my toes. I cross my arms as my body begins to shake. “Brody?”

  “Yes and no. It’s complicated.”

  I work to keep my voice steady when I say, “Uncomplicate it, then. Tell me what’s really going on.” Tears blur my eyes and there’s a part of me that doesn’t want to believe the man who cooked homemade traditional foods for me had some ulterior motive.

  “It’s just…I knew I’d be paired with her, and Declan challenged me.”

  My breath comes quicker. “Challenged you?”

  “He picked you.” He grips the back of his neck. “Shit, this isn’t coming out right. Look, I wanted you to go with me.”

  My mind races, trying to figure out what he’s trying to say. “Did you guys have a bet or something?” Oh God, that can’t be right. We had so much fun this week, grew so close. Was that all in my imagination? Was he charming me, sweet talking me simply to win a bet and get me to the table? “Brody?” I croak out, and inch toward the door.

  “It wasn’t a bet.” His voice is low, pained. “Not really.”

  I hug myself harder, as a chill seeps into my bones. “What was it then?”

  “Can we talk inside?” He takes in my shaking body. “You’re freezing.”

  I nod, my voice stuck in my throat.

  He touches my arm, his entire body tense. “Let me get your door. I don’t want you stepping into any potholes.”

  I nod again as uneasy energy courses through my veins. He circles the car, opens my door, and when he bends something falls from his pocket and lands in a puddle of icy water. “What was that?”

  “Shit.” He reaches into the puddle, and fishes around. He pulls his hand out and shakes it. “That’s freezing.”

  “What did you lose?” I ask.

  Without answering me, he shoves his hand into the puddle again, and after a good search he pulls his hand out, and when I see what he’s holding, the world closes in on me. My throat squeezes tight, and I can’t seem to get air.

  “Brody?” I squeak out as my mouth goes desert dry.

  “Can we talk?”

  “That’s…my phone. Where did you get my phone?”

  “It’s not what you think.” He reaches for my hand but I pull it back, my mind going back to the day we met. Over the course of the last week, it occurred to me that Brody and I had so much in common. From our favorite type of Christmas tree, right down to popcorn in our bark.

  “None of it was a coincidence, was it?” I ask quietly, tears pounding behind my eyes.

  A garbled sound comes out of his throat. “You and me, Josie. That’s fate.”

  “Fate.” I give a hard shake of my head. “Fate didn’t bring us together,” I say as the pieces fall into place. “Declan brought us together. He picked me—to be your dinner date so you wouldn’t be stuck with his cousin—which meant you had to pursue me.” I point to my dripping phone. “Is this how you did it? You went through my phone, looked at my pictures, then did all the things I used to like doing?”

  “No, Josie. That’s not it. I mean, some of what you’re saying is true, but it’s not like that. Please, let me explain.”

  A hard laugh gets stuck in my throat. I snatch the phone from him and try to turn it on, but it’s waterlogged, completely ruined. I toss it back to him, and jump from the car, pushing him out of my way.

  “It might have been a game to you, Brody, but it wasn’t to me. I hope you and Declan had fun playing with my heart.”

  “Josie, please.”

  My blood turns to ice and slowly moves through my body. “Were you even planning on staying until New Year’s, or was that just another big lie to worm your way into my life and take what you needed from me.”

  “No, it wasn’t a lie.” There’s a desperation about him as he reaches for me, but I jerk back. “I was going to talk to my coach, and if I couldn’t, I was going to drive back up to kiss you when the ball dropped.”

  “How can I possibly believe that,” I shoot back. “Or anything else you say?”

  “Josie?”

  “Goodbye, Brody.” I force myself to stay calm, not to cry in front of him. He doesn’t deserve my tears. “I don’t ever want to see you again.”

  15

  Brody

  I stand there, the world crashing in on me as Josie pushes past me, her dripping wet phone still in my hand. She clearly hates me now, and you know what. I hate me too. All this time I was holding onto the one thing that was precious to her, the one last chance to hear her late husband’s voice and yes, it’s wrong that I even considered peeking into her personal life because Declan threw up a stupid challenge. I don’t deserve her. I don’t deserve happiness at all. But she does. No one in the world deserves it more than Josie.

  Looking at the world through blurry eyes, and it has nothing to do with the rain, I get back in my car. Not knowing where to go, or who to turn to, I drive back to Declan’s. I glance at the phone in the seat beside me and once again mentally berate myself. I fuck everything up. It’s what I do. I never, ever should have started anything with Josie. This is all on me.

  I sit in the driveway and soon Declan’s front door opens, and he walks out with Nikki. He takes one look at my car, me sitting alone in the driver’s seat and turns to say something to Nikki. She nods, gives me a little wave and goes back inside the house. The next thing I know, the passenger door opens and I snatch up Josie’s phone as Declan slides in.

  He takes one look at my face and shakes his head. “What happened?”

&
nbsp; “We’re done.” I punch the ceiling. “Josie walked.”

  “Why?”

  “Don’t all women walk from my life, Declan?”

  “Come on, Brody, there’s more to it than that.”

  “Shit, what am I saying? This isn’t on Josie, this is on me. She’s nothing like my mother and stepmothers. She’s way better than any of them.” I exhale, pinching my nose. “This is on me, Declan. I fucked up.”

  “We need to fix it then.”

  “There’s no fixing it.” I hold up Josie’s phone and Declan frowns. I quickly give him a rundown on what I did, and didn’t do—which was invade her privacy. But none of that matters. Not really.

  “Shit, this is bad. I know you never opened her phone, I know you’d never do that, but she thinks you did, and just the fact that you kept it, had it all this time…” He gives a low slow whistle. “There might not be any coming back from that, bud. But you have to at least try, don’t you think?”

  “I don’t know what to think anymore.” I shake my head, because there is no making this right. “Her phone… She needs to hear her late husband’s message. She might not want to move forward with me, but I at least hope the message is what she needs to hear, what it’s going to take to heal her wholly and help her find happiness, even if it’s not with me.”

  I punch the ceiling again, the thoughts of her being with another man eating me alive. But I’ll just have to deal with that. This is about Josie, not me, and I’ll do anything to make this right.

  “Come on, I know a guy.”

  “What?”

  “If we want to save the phone, we have to work fast. Start the car and drive east.” I do as Declan orders. “Go faster.”

  I drive east, and step on the gas pedal, going past the speed limit, but if he knows a way to fix the phone, I’ll deal with a speeding ticket.

  We pull into a small subdivision, and the houses are all lit up. “Right there, pull into the driveway.”

  “It looks like there’s a house party.” Unease tightens my gut. “We can’t barge in on someone’s party, it’s Christmas Eve.”

  Declan laughs. “Are you kidding me? We bring the party wherever we go. How many people get to say two Seattle Shooters showed up at their door on Christmas Eve?”

  “Yeah, I guess.” I reach for the door. “If you think it’s okay.”

  “Come on.”

  Phone in hand, we hurry up to the door, and Declan knocks. The door swings open and there’s a middle-aged man standing there. “Declan, son, what are you doing here?” the man asks, arms wide to hug Declan. After they separate, the man’s eyes go bigger when he turns to me. “Brody Tucker, what a surprise. This is the best Christmas present ever.” He calls over his shoulder, “You guys are not going to believe this.” He waves his hand. “Come in, come in.”

  Declan clears his throat. “We kind of need a favor, Mr. Ferguson.”

  “What can I do for you?”

  Declan takes the phone from my hand. “It’s damaged and we need it to work. We’ll pay whatever it takes, and we’ll be happy to give you as many selfies and autographs as you want.”

  Mr. Ferguson laughs as his wife comes around the corner. “Sandra, you remember Declan.” She beams. “You take these boys to the living room and introduce them. I’ll be back in a jiffy.”

  My stomach clenches, hoping this works, I put on a smile and let Mrs. Ferguson take me into the room and introduce us around. For the next fifteen minutes, we make small talk, and thankfully Declan carries the conversation. I’m too worked up to focus on anything.

  We get our pictures taken, and sign autographs and soon enough Mr. Ferguson comes back into the room, a frown on his face, and my heart sinks into my stomach.

  He gestures for us to follow him back into the hall and we say our goodbyes before following him. In the hall, I try to quiet my racing heart. “Not working?”

  “Oh, it’s working…it’s just, this is Josie Moser’s phone.”

  “You got it working!” I practically shout, my throat aching as I hold back tears.

  “Yes, but what are you doing with her phone?”

  “It’s a long story, Mr. Ferguson. But I can assure you, we are planning on giving it back. We’re planning on making everything right, isn’t that right, Brody?”

  “Yeah,” I say, even though there is nothing I can do to make it right.

  He hands the phone over. “Lots of memories that I’m sure she wouldn’t want to lose.”

  “Yeah, exactly,” I agree.

  “How much?” Declan asks and pulls out his wallet.

  Mr. Ferguson waves his hand. “No charge. Just as long as you get this back to Josie.”

  We head outside and back in the car, Declan says, “He owns the Mobile Shop in town. He can fix anything.”

  “Thank you, Declan. This means a lot.”

  “And obviously, she means a lot to you.” I nod, and head back to Declan’s. “Are you going to go see her tonight?”

  “I’m pretty sure she won’t open the door for me and I don’t want to leave this on her doorstep in the dark.” As much as I wanted to wake up with her Christmas morning, I know better than to go to her tonight. Distance is probably the best thing for us. The party has died down by the time we get back, and I’m happy to see that Patrick is gone. How would I explain that I’m sleeping at Declan’s tonight? Declan searches for Nikki, but his mother informs him that Patrick took her home. Declan is in a foul mood as he goes to his bedroom and I follow him up the stairs, going into my own room, shutting the door and flopping on the bed. I close my eyes, but sleep doesn’t come and I want to get up and out early, to put the phone on her doorstep. That way she’ll find it when she takes Mabel for her morning walk.

  I toss and turn until morning and rub my sleepy eyes as the light shines in through the slant in my curtains. Walking quietly through the house, not wanting to wake anyone, I head to the front door when I notice some extra gift bags. Sure that Donna wouldn’t mind me using one, I drop the phone in and a cool morning breeze washes over me when I step outside. I quietly back my car out of the driveway and head to Josie’s. I sit in the car for a minute, my insides twisted up, and finally force myself to put one leg in front of the other. I walk around the shop to her back door, put the bag on the doorknob, and head back to my car.

  I knew better than to start anything with her and now I’ve fucked everything up, hurt the one woman who would never hurt anyone, and has been through so much pain herself. I love her, there’s no denying that, but she’d be better off without me in her life messing everything up.

  16

  Josie

  My barking dog pulls me awake. I open one eye and then the other, my gaze going straight to my gigantic tree. I’m on the sofa and the Douglas fir eats up the whole room, so it’s not a surprise that it’s the only thing I can see.

  Wrong.

  Mabel pokes me with her wet nose. “What’s up, girl?” Through puffy eyes from crying, I check my phone for the time and groan. “You’re up way too early.”

  Her tail wags and when I try to roll over, she barks and barks and barks some more. “Ugh, you’re not going to let me sleep, are you?”

  She runs from the sofa, through the kitchen, and barks at the back door. “Fine, I’m coming,” I say, reluctantly forcing myself up. Exhaustion from a very sleepless night pulls at me as I trudge to the kitchen, pull on my boots and coat, and leash Mabel. I hate that I cried over Brody. Brody who helped with Mabel, took me on a horse-drawn carriage ride, and showed me how to live again. Brody who was using me for some stupid game between him and his best friend.

  Mabel barks at me and it pulls me out of my stupor. “Okay, okay, what is your rush this morning anyway?” As she practically drags me down the stairs, I try to think about something other than Brody, but can’t. Honestly, why would he invest so much time in getting to know me, doing things with me when all he had to do was ask and I would have gone with him. After all, he was doing me a favor by p
retending to be my boyfriend. I guess he liked the thrill of the chase, being able to sweet talk me. Maybe it was all ego driven.

  I open the door and I’m blasted with a cold breeze and Mabel tries to pull me to the road, which is so strange. “We’re going to the park, girl. Wrong way.” I go to close the door, and that’s when I notice the gift bag on the doorknob. I stare at the bag for a moment, glancing around. I snort. “Looks like Santa came, Mabel.”

  I take the bag from the knob and my heart jumps into my throat when I see my phone inside. My chest squeezes so tight, it’s hard to breathe, and no longer able to stand, I sink to the ground, the cold wet snow seeping through my pajama bottoms, but I’m too numb to feel anything.

  I pull the phone out, and as if sensing my distress, sweet Mabel sits beside me, nudging me with her chin. Tears flood my eyes as I carefully, tentatively turn the phone on. It lights up and a big hiccupping sob crawls out of my throat. Mabel whines and moves closer, putting her head on my lap. My lungs seize, and I stop breathing when I open my messages and find the voicemail from Jon.

  “Oh, God,” I murmur. Mabel whines again, as if to encourage me, and I glance up at the sky, take a deep, full breath to gather my courage and press play.

  “Josie, hey.” As soon as I hear Jon’s voice my tears fall harder, and I press pause. I hold the phone tight, not sure if I can continue but Mabel nudges me.

  “Okay, girl.”

  I hit play again, and close my eyes, nothing existing or mattering, but Mabel and Jon’s message.

  “I’m not doing so great, babe.” His voice is quiet and weak, barely audible from the background beeps. “They have to do surgery. Internal bleeding. I uh…I love you.”

  My throat squeezes so tight, it aches, and tears drip down my nose and cheeks, freezing on my skin. “Jon,” I murmur. “I love you too.”

  “Babe, I’m not sure I’m going to be okay.” He gives a soft laugh. “If I don’t come out of this, I need you to be strong. We talked about having a family. I want you to do that, babe. I want you to find someone who makes you happy, someone who will love you the way I do. I want you to chase all your dreams.” The background beeps come faster, more erratic, and the message ends abruptly.