Her friend pulled back from the hug, studying Bella from behind her purple cat-eye glasses. “I just got your message this morning. I was camping with some friends for a long weekend and didn’t have cell service. By the time we got home late last night, I showered and sank into bed and didn’t bother to check my messages.”
Jessica had always been there for Bella exactly when she needed her. She was the closest thing to a sister Bella had had growing up, and she’d continued to be loyal in all the ways that counted. Still, the last time they’d talked, Bella hadn’t embraced that loyalty or her friend’s heartfelt advice. “I wondered.”
“Yep, and as soon as I got your message, I made sure I didn’t have any last-minute appointments.” Jess was a hairdresser out of her apartment in Burbank. “I can stay for a few days.”
Sniffing away any trace of potential tears, Bella straightened and strode into the room, plopping onto the desk chair facing the bed. “You could have just called, you know.”
Jessica retook her position on the bed, a wary look on her face. “I thought you may need more than that.” She pulled a plastic bag off the bedside table and shook loose a few candy bars, Twizzlers, and a bag of chili cheese Fritos. “For instance, a phone call couldn’t have delivered these.”
“You’re a saint. My waistline doesn’t thank you, but I do.” Bella held up a hand, and Jessica tossed her a Snickers bar.
“Always happy to oblige.” Jess ripped open the bag of chips, sending the scent of spicy corn floating through the room. “By the way, I booked the room across the hall, but Ben was nice enough to let me into yours. He’s quite a hottie.” Quirking an eyebrow, she crushed a chip between her teeth.
Bella focused on unwrapping her chocolate bar. The top rippled with hidden peanuts that crunched as she took a bite. “Yes, he is.”
“And? What’s going on there?”
Any pleasure the chocolate should have provided fled from Bella’s tongue, replaced with a bitterness that came from the sour turning of her stomach. Sighing, she lowered the Snickers. “Not a whole lot.”
“Sounded like a whole lot.”
“I should clarify. Not a whole lot anymore.”
Crunch, crunch, crunch. “Explain.” Jessica wiped her fingers on the edge of the plastic bag.
Bella rummaged in her desk, located a napkin, and tossed it to her friend. “There’s not much to the story. As you know, I came here under false pretenses, though I never actually told a mistruth.”
“Which is still lying.”
Being outspoken herself, Bella appreciated Jess’s forthrightness.
Most of the time.
Today, it rubbed raw a tender spot in her soul.
“I know that now, yes.” Bella’s fingers fidgeted as she messed with the empty candy wrapper. She explained the rest of the story to her friend, who reserved any more words until she was done.
“And so I’ve come to an impasse. I want to help him, to be with him, but I’m not naive enough to believe we can have any sort of real future if I don’t tell him the truth. The problem is, if I tell him the truth, he won’t sell, and I’ll give up the only shot I have at finding my dad. If I don’t tell him the truth and do convince him to sell, I’ll lose him when he discovers it afterward, which he’s bound to do.”
Somehow she’d managed to keep her voice steady during her explanation, but it quavered as she presented her last choice—the worst one of the bunch. “And if I risk telling him the truth, and he hates me for it, I’ll lose everything. He won’t sell, Mom won’t tell me about Dad, and I’ll lose Ben too. Both things I want will be gone forever.”
Crumpling the candy wrapper, she tossed it in the trash. It left smudges of chocolate on her palm that she wiped away with a napkin. “Logically, I should choose the scenario that at least guarantees I get one of them. But emotionally . . .”
Pursing her lips together, Jessica rolled the chip bag closed and set it on the side table again. “I think you know what you have to do, Bells. And logic has nothing to do with it.”
Pulling up her legs onto the chair, Bella wrapped her arms around them and set her face into the crack between her knees. She groaned. “I know. But I’m so afraid of reliving what happened with Jake in high school.” That had taken her months to get over. And her feelings for Ben were a million times more intense, more real.
Jessica leaned forward. “Bella, that was completely different. Jake Merrick was an immature boy who couldn’t handle the truth.”
Immature or not, Bella had been half in love with Jake the day they’d met during the regional academic decathlon tournament her senior year. He’d impressed her with his intelligence, his confidence in his plans for the future. He might have lived an hour away from her, but for a whole month after they met, they’d talked on the phone late into the night about anything and everything. Jake was candid about how his dad had grown depressed after losing his job a year before and his parents’ subsequent divorce.
“I realize there are differences.” Bella’s arms tightened around her knees. “But don’t you see the similarities too? He didn’t want me anymore once he found out I was a Moody.”
She still remembered the day they’d realized the “witch” who had fired Jake’s dad and sent his whole family spiraling into chaos was none other than Camille Moody. Still remembered how it felt for Jake to stand her up for prom a week later.
Bella swallowed hard. “And it’ll be the exact same thing with Ben.”
“You can’t compare the situations. The outcome with Jake was in no way your fault. Just a strange and crazy coincidence. This time, it’s a mess of your own making.”
Bella flinched at Jessica’s candid words. “It still doesn’t change the facts. I’m a Moody, and when Ben finds out he isn’t going to want anything to do with me.”
“If that happens, it’ll be because you lied, not because of your last name.”
Bella released her legs, her feet landing square on the carpet, hands clenching into fists at her side. “He would have sent me packing that first day if he’d associated me with Mom. Face it—I’m Bella Moody, and I can’t escape all the connotations that brings.”
“Girl.” Jess climbed off the bed and squatted in front of Bella. “You are not the sum of your name, so you have to stop acting like it defines you. If Ben is supposed to be in your life, he’ll forgive you, you’ll be together, and it won’t have a single thing to do with who your parents are. Only who you are, deep down.”
And that was Bella’s greatest fear.
Chapter 11
The bank was the last place in the world where Ben wanted to be.
But he didn’t have a choice.
Ben glanced up and down Main Street, but no one seemed to notice him as he strode closer to Walker Beach First Bank. Of course, that didn’t mean that Aunt Kiki couldn’t see him from her shop across the way, but there were lots of reasons people went to the bank. Not that everyone who went wore a tie, though. Why had he worn the stupid thing in the first place?
Whatever Matthew wanted to talk to him about, Ben’s wearing or not wearing a tie wasn’t going to change it.
Shaking out his hands, Ben pushed open the double doors of the bank and breezed through. Pleasant elevator music and a piney scent greeted him, and his feet sank into the plush blue carpet. A handful of tellers standing behind a high glossy counter helped the Thursday afternoon rush of customers before a long summer weekend—one of the last before kids started a new school year. In open cubicles on the other side of the large room, several loan officers and advisors chatted on their phones, drank their coffee, or worked on their computers.
No one seemed to notice him enter, which suited Ben just fine.
Passing a water dispenser with cone-shaped cups set up in front, he slipped down the back hall toward Matthew’s office, where his former football teammate had asked Ben to meet at four-thirty. When he reached the large oak door, he knocked.
“Come in.”
Ben bl
ew out a breath, pasted on a smile, and barged into the office.
It didn’t matter how large the office was—with his stacked frame and broad shoulders, Matthew Lulich looked a bit ridiculous hunched over his computer. He glanced up then stood, extending a hand from behind the desk. “Ben, good to see you.”
Striding forward, Ben took Matt’s hand in a firm grip and shook. “Same.” Nearly choking on the lie, he looked the bank manager in the eyes, searching for the reason he’d called him in. But the man revealed nothing.
“Have a seat, man. And have some candy.” Matthew indicated the bowl of Warheads on his desk.
Ben lowered himself into the plush chair across the desk, keeping his shoulders straight. “I’m OK.”
“I appreciate you coming in on such short notice.”
“No problem. Don’t want to bite the hand that feeds me and all that.” Ben attempted a laugh then cringed at the strangled noise that came from his mouth.
Matthew glanced at the clock ticking away the seconds on the wall to Ben’s right before he rolled the sleeves of his expensive shirt to his elbows. He drew his lips into a frown. “There’s no easy way to say this, so I’ll just be straight with you. Dad found out that I’ve been giving you grace on your loan.”
Unlike Ben, Matthew had been destined for bigger things than the family business—had even been recruited to the Arizona Cardinals his sophomore year of college at the University of Southern California. But a knee injury his first season had blown him all the way back to Walker Beach, where he’d stepped in to help his dad run the one and only local bank.
Ben didn’t like where this was going. Norman Lulich wasn’t a jerk, but he wasn’t all that understanding of people who defaulted on their loans. That was Ben’s reasoning for first coming to Matthew when he’d realized he might not make his payment that first month. His friend had promised they’d work with him, that he’d get in touch if anything changed. It had been months since Ben had heard anything.
He swallowed hard, wishing he’d snagged a cup of water on the way in. “You’ll have to tell him thank you for me.” Ben hated for his old buddy to understand just how desperate of a situation he was currently in, but the sympathy card might be his only play. “Things have been rough since I took over the inn. I think I’m finally starting to get on my feet, though.”
“I’m glad to hear that. Because . . .” Matthew cleared his throat. “Sorry, man, I hate this.”
Dread churned Ben’s stomach. “Just say it.”
“Dad said I needed to serve you with a notice of default.” The man swiveled in his chair toward his computer, snatched a file folder, and turned back, sliding it across the desktop to Ben. “It’s all in there. You have ninety days to catch up on your loans plus some fees and interest that have accrued.”
Ben reached for the folder and opened it, his fingertips numb as he flipped through to the last page. His breath caught as he spied the number at the bottom—the amount he owed by November fourth. He shut his eyes to the amount that seemed so far out of his reach at the moment.
Unless Bella’s tactics worked to draw in more customers or the grant Evan was still looking into panned out, he was doomed. He really would have no choice but to sell. And he knew just who would be waiting in the wings.
Moody Development.
He’d ruin his family’s legacy and Walker Beach’s vibe in one fell swoop. Bella had said it wouldn’t be his fault, but Ben knew the truth.
Scrubbing a hand down his face, he reopened his eyes. “Is there any way we can talk about this? Can I meet with your dad? See if he’ll flex once he’s heard about my circumstances?”
“Normally I’d say yes, but we’ve had a bunch of people in the last few weeks asking for new loans or loan extensions.” Matthew fidgeted with his tie. “The earthquake really did a number on a lot of businesses in town.”
Heat flushed Ben’s body. “So, your dad is just taking advantage of us?”
“Hey now.” Matthew’s nostrils flared, a flash of the old football player coming back to life.
“Sorry. That was out of line.” Ben tugged at his collar. Oh, hang it. He loosened and removed his tie then stuffed it into his pocket.
“I know this is hard, man. Believe me, I tried to change his mind.” Matthew rubbed the back of his neck. “He’s actually granting a lot of people grace, but he said you defaulted before the earthquake, and you’ve had months to get your finances back on track. He wasn’t feeling as generous with your situation.”
His friend’s cheeks grew red beneath his five o’clock shadow. Dude had probably taken the brunt of his dad’s wrath for letting Ben off the hook as long as he had.
It was time to face the music. Ben wasn’t going to get any help here.
He was on his own.
Bella’s beautiful face flashed in his mind, her eyes filled with an unwavering belief in him. The band around his lungs eased. Yeah, things had been a bit slower between them this week, especially yesterday with her friend Jessica in town. He and Bella had hardly spent any time together except to review some ads messaging she was placing online.
They might not have had an opportunity to define what they meant to each other or even go on another date, but one thing was for certain—she was working behind the scenes to support him. And with a brilliant woman like Bella Miranda on his side, he wouldn’t fail. Couldn’t.
And . . . so what if he did?
For the first time, he allowed himself to wonder—would it be so bad if he lost the inn?
Embarrassing? Sure. But detrimental? Who knew. Maybe it would free him up to follow Bella back to LA. Not that he really wanted to leave Walker Beach. It was home, after all, and he’d always been OK with that. But there was something about Bella that felt like home too. Something indefinable that he couldn’t put his finger on but knew was there.
Shutting the default notice into the folder and snapping it up, Ben thanked Matthew and practically ran out the bank’s front doors. He hauled himself toward the Main Street east parking lot and into his truck. Might break the speed limit getting home but he had to find her.
Yeah, he needed to update her on the notice of default and get her thoughts on ramping up their efforts to save the inn. But the more pressing need was to push away any lingering doubts and take her in his arms and kiss her senseless.
To tell her what he knew he wanted, even more than saving his inn—the chance to explore a future with her.
These could be Bella’s last moments at the Iridescent Inn.
Holding tightly to the stapled stack of papers in her hand, she leaned against the newly secured railing on the upper outside deck and breathed in the scent of the sea that floated toward her from the beach. The top of the stairs was still closed off with caution tape, but otherwise the decking was like new. Despite the lingering odor of sealant and wood stain, which Ben had applied yesterday, there was nowhere in the whole world she’d rather be right now.
Except for Ben’s arms.
But that might never happen again. Not after she told him the truth.
After about a day and a half together, Jessica had left early this morning, and Bella had taken the rest of the day to finish the business plan—the full version, no ideas held back—for Ben’s inn. She’d completed it an hour ago and printed it for easier perusal. When she’d looked for Ben afterward, he was nowhere to be found. Then she remembered he’d mentioned in passing an appointment at the bank.
So for now, she waited.
For the hundredth time, Bella angled her head toward the parking lot, but her Lexus was still the only vehicle there. Huffing, she retreated through the sliding glass door on the deck into the upstairs lobby with its cozy couches and fireplace where Ben and Bella had shared their first pizza.
Still, however cozy, Ben’s grandparents clearly hadn’t updated the place since the 1980s. In her business plan, Bella had suggested modernizing first, including trading the wall-to-wall shaggy carpet for cost-effective but gorgeous laminat
e flooring and the gold wallpaper border along the ceiling for crown molding, which Ben could easily and inexpensively do himself. Together, they could make this place amazing.
If only he’d forgive her.
Her fingers crushed the business plan in her hands, wrinkling the first page.
She sighed. Whether Ben forgave Bella for her lies or not, she would leave the plan with him, giving him full access to her thoughts on how to save his inn. He deserved that and so much more from her.
And, yeah, maybe she’d never know who her father was or discover if she had a family out there somewhere. But at least she’d have done the right thing. And with that, maybe Ben would see past her indiscretion.
Maybe she’d finally found somewhere to belong, with people who didn’t see her as a Moody but just as Bella.
Sinking onto the couch closest to the fireplace, which afforded her a peek at the ocean from the window, Bella placed the plan on the coffee table. Upon second thought, she moved a vase over it so he wouldn’t see it before she was ready to introduce it into the conversation. She itched to go over the details with him but knew she might not get that chance. Jessica had urged her to tell him the truth about who she was sooner rather than later. As usual, her best friend was right.
Bella had her bags packed, just in case.
“Hey.”
Ben’s voice jarred her from her thoughts, and she looked up at his approach. Oh, he was handsome in his slacks and button-down collared shirt, the edge of a tie peeking out from his pocket. There was no denying he filled out the ensemble in a handsome way, his biceps bulging beneath the blue fabric.
Her eyes drifted upward, connecting with his gaze as he moved closer. “Hi.”
“What are you doing in here?” Ben slid onto the couch next to her, bringing with him a new scent. Was he wearing cologne? She couldn’t help but lean toward him, savoring notes of sandalwood, patchouli, and orange.
Couldn’t the man be all sweaty like usual? That would have made it a lot easier to drop the bomb she was about to unleash.
All of You, Always Page 11
