Home to Stay (Southern Boys Book 2)

by Harper Cassidy

  He was caught off guard by the question. “What?”

  “It makes sense that your father kept cash. What doesn’t make sense is somebody stealing money and hiding it in their own office and trying to take off with it in the middle of a work day. I won’t ask if I seem like a thief because circumstance could probably drive anyone to theft, but do I seem stupid to you?”

  “No. Definitely not,” Chet said firmly.

  “Good. Because I am not stupid and those are the actions of a stupid person.”

  “Since you brought it up, can you tell me what happened when you found the money?”

  Edna sighed. “I had just come back from lunch. There was a sticky note from your dad on my door, asking me to pull a file. I forget which one now.” She shook her head, as if to say it didn’t matter. “I went to the filing cabinet to get it and I found all these stacks of money in there. I started pulling them out, planning to take them to Walker to ask him if he knew why they were there, but he came into my office when I had an armful of cash and started yelling about his missing money and accusing me of being a thief.” Her green eyes, so clear up until this point, reddened with unshed tears. “Have you ever been called a thief, Chet?”

  “No, ma’am.”

  “Well, let me tell you, when you’re an honest person, who has never taken a thing that didn’t belong to you, being called a thief is like a slap in the face. Especially when it is by an irascible man who won’t let you speak so much as a word in your own defense. He fired me on the spot and gave me five minutes to get my things. I grabbed the checkbook when he was distracted and threw it in with the rest.”

  Edna’s cup shook as she raised her coffee to her lips. Chet’s own cup was long-forgotten, but he sipped it then to allow her time to compose herself.

  “Chet,” she said when she spoke again. “I did not take that money. I don’t have the faintest clue who put it in my drawer. And I’ve never touched so much as a drop of liquor while on the job.”

  “I believe you, Edna.” Chet did, completely.

  “So why didn’t he?” she asked, voice breaking slightly. “I did everything for that man, handled half the business, honestly. For twelve years. But he wouldn’t give me so much as twelve seconds to explain myself.”

  “I can’t answer that, Edna. What I can do is try and right the wrong he did. I’d like you to come back and work for us. I don’t need an assistant for the time being, but I think Jerry Planchett could probably use one.” He set his cup down and leaned forward. “I’m so sorry for what happened to you, Edna. I’d like to make it right. You’ll get a raise on your previous salary, and an extra week’s vacation every year until you retire.”

  Edna stared him down. “I could still sue you,” she said.

  He nodded. “You could. And I’d settle it without making you go to court.”

  “Eh. The lawyer would take half the money,” she said with a wink. “When can I start?”

  On the way back to the farm from Edna’s, Chet considered the situation. If money went missing, his father should have reported it to the IRS, even if the money was returned. Chet needed to check with Bert Stewart, Walker’s tax accountant, to see if that had been done. He also needed to see if there was still a safe. He hadn’t been to Walker’s old office yet, as he hadn’t needed to, but maybe it was time he paid a visit.

  As soon as he got back, he located the number for the accountant and gave him a call. They’d spoken when Chet first took over, but hadn’t had a need to speak again until now. Still, Bert seemed happy to hear from him.

  “Well, hello, Chet! How are things running at the old farm? No major problems, I hope.”

  “Hi, Bert. No major problems, but I do have an odd situation I am hoping you can help me with. Did my father report money stolen shortly before he died?”

  “Oh, no, nothing like that. We had our quarterly meeting not long before his passing and there was nothing like that. Why do you ask? Is there money missing?” Bert asked.

  “Well, I’m not sure. It seems my father fired his assistant for theft, but the whole situation is odd. Did he keep cash, that you know of?”

  Bert laughed. “Walker Barnaby? Keep money that wasn’t earning interest of some kind? No, sir, I don’t think so. He rarely dealt in cash unless he absolutely had to.” His voice sobered before he said, “Edna was fired? I had no idea. I live in Colliersville, so I don’t get the local gossip, but that’s a real shame. She’s a fine woman. I can’t imagine her taking a penny that didn’t belong to her.”

  “That’s strange about the cash. Edna was caught with stacks of bills and that’s why she was fired. Can you check and see if there was a cash withdrawal made from the business account before his death?”

  “Sure, just let me look...." Key clattered as he typed. “Hm, nope, nothing aside from the regular transfers to his personal account and the business withdrawals. No cash. Like I said, Walker having cash was a rare occurrence.”

  Chet thanked Bert for his time and hung up. Bert hadn’t asked many questions, which was fine with him. The situation surrounding Edna being fired got weirder and weirder. He suspected his father had concocted the entire thing. The question was why? Was he trying to avoid paying Edna’s retirement? Didn’t seem likely. Had she caught onto some scheme of his? Seems like she would have outed him, if that was the case. And he hadn’t found any evidence of shady dealings. Slightly less than ethical ones, but nothing illegal.

  When the idea finally occurred to him, it felt crazy. It felt like he was being paranoid. But he couldn’t come up with another answer. Edna had, by her own admission, run half the company. She’d handled everything for Walker and was likely the reason the farm was in as good of shape as it was when Chet took over. If she was out of the picture when Walker died, Walker probably assumed that Chet would be as lost without her help as he himself had been. Had Walker known he was going to die? It made the most sense.

  “He set me up to fail,” Chet said out loud. “That bastard. This wasn’t about trying to make me into a man. This was his last ‘fuck you’ for being such a disappointment to him and for leaving.” Emotion filled his voice, making it thick to his own ears. “Oh, you son of a bitch!”

  He wanted to storm to his father’s office in a rage, but knew he shouldn’t. He was not going to let his father win by losing his shit. He was going to turn this farm into the best business it had ever been and he was going to make sure everyone knew it was him, and not Walker, who had made it so.

  What he needed was to blow off steam. He was too wound up. Maybe he could find someone to hook up with, though he didn’t know where he could do that around here. He thought about it for only a moment before he texted the one employee that he knew was gay and asked about LGBT friendly bars nearby.

  Chet had made up his mind. For the first time since he’d arrived in Rubyville, he was going to get laid.

  20

  So far, the bonfire was only interesting because Nick had had the foresight to bring good beer with him. Tyler and Reagan had hung out with him for nearly half an hour before disappearing somewhere with other friends they hadn't introduced. So far, Rhett and Liam had not made an appearance. He had talked to quite a few people, but no one who seemed to be his type of person. Or at least he wasn't clicking with any of them.

  There was a taco truck across the way and he finally decided to check it out, once the line had thinned. After that, he intended to sit by the fire and drink his beer until such time as Tyler and Reagan appeared or he found a new way home. The tacos weren't cheap, but they smelled like everything that was good in the world, and Nick decided to sit down by the fire before he savored them, rather than wolf them on the way as he'd first intended.

  He found a good spot and sat down, then took the first bite. He made an obscene noise as the flavors rolled over his tongue, not realizing anyone was nearby.

  "Mind if I sit with you, or did you and that taco want some privacy?" Chet asked from his left.

  Embarrassed
but also amused, Nick nearly choked on his bite from laughing. He took a moment to find his breath and swallow before gesturing at the ground.

  "Be my guest." Nick waited until Chet sat before speaking again. "Didn't expect to see you here."

  "Yeah, one of the guys from work told me about it. Figured I'd check it out. I take it the tacos are worth the price?"

  Nick laughed again. "Yeah, they're good. You want one? I got three."

  "You're willing to share?"

  "Well, I figure if I give away one, that gives me an excuse to buy more."

  Chet smiled. "Well, if I'm helping the cause, how can I refuse?"

  Nick handed one of his tacos over with a feigned look of dejection. "Goodbye old friend. I promise I'll get more of you."

  Chet snorted and accepted the taco. "Thanks. I appreciate your sacrifice." He took his own bite. "Oh my God," he said, talking with a full mouth. "That's the best thing I've eaten in years."

  "I told you. Let's hurry up and eat these so we can get more."

  After the very brief time it took them to finish eating, Chet said, "Here, I'll go get more. You hold our spot."

  "Not going to argue with that. It's the Banh Mi taco plate," Nick said, leaning back onto his hands to rest.

  He watched Chet walk away, enjoying the view immensely. Nick couldn't deny being happy that Chet had shown up. The evening, which had been dull, was now suddenly looking promising. Nick knew better than to hope for more than friends, but he'd still rather hang out with Chet than nearly anyone. The guy was good company.

  It didn't take too long for Chet to return, a fully laden plate of tacos in one hand and a couple of beers in the other. He held the latter out to Nick as soon as he got close and Nick took them as Chet made his way back into a seated position.

  "Figured they'd go down even better with beer," Chet said when he was next to Nick again.

  "Can't argue with that." Nick noticed that the tacos didn't look the same and there seemed to be more of them. "I take it you didn't get the Banh Mi plate?"

  "Well, no. I was going to, but then I saw the other things they had, so I got you another Banh Mi and then I got three others to try. I figured we could split them, since I doubt I can eat three more tacos alone, even ones as good as these. They're pretty big."

  "Pfft. Amateur," Nick teased, taking the taco Chet held out.

  Chet rolled his eyes and picked a taco for himself. Nick opened the beer and Chet balanced his against his leg, the taco plate perched on the knee closest to Nick. For a few minutes, they ate and exchanged opinions on the food, in between sips of beer. It was comfortable and fun. Nick couldn't remember the last time he'd felt this good, but he was enjoying it. Chet seemed to be enjoying it as well, if the higher-than-normal frequency of his smiles was any indicator of his mood.

  "I'm glad you came out, Chet," Nick said, hoping Chet either wouldn't notice or wouldn't mind how close they were sitting.

  "Me too," Chet said.

  His expression was sincere as he stared back at Nick. The moment held and Nick felt his hope surge for a moment until Chet dropped his gaze and cleared his throat, leaning back slightly.

  “So, you’re gay,” Chet said.

  Nick sighed and sat up straighter. He was no longer prepared for this talk, but it had to happen and now was as good a time as any, he supposed.

  “I am.” He could see Chet start to ask something else, but he ignored him and kept talking. “I know that makes what I did in high school even worse. I know it does. Even if it’s the reason for what I did.”

  Chet made a face. “What does that even mean?”

  “I knew I was into guys. Senior year, I realized that I was specifically into you.”

  “Keep talking,” Chet said. He looked angry, but he was listening at least.

  “I am not making excuses here. What I did was inexcusable. I know that. I just want you to know how everything started. I started to notice you senior year. How smart you were. How great your smile was. How sad you were. How cute.” Nick smiled at Chet, but didn’t hold eye contact. “I liked you. I knew I did. It wasn’t a question.”

  “And you thought calling me homophobic slurs was the way into my pants?” Chet asked, voice sharp.

  “No!” Nick said, making full eye contact now so Chet could see the truth in his face. “No. That was never my intention. I started talking to you because I wanted to get closer to you. I thought… I didn’t know if you were gay, but I thought even just getting to be your friend would be good enough. So I started trying to be nice to you.”

  Nick dropped his head into his hand and rubbed his temples.

  “Tyler and Reagan walked up at the wrong time and I guess they could tell. I mean I complimented your shirt and that’s not something jocks were supposed to do with other guys... they just tried to gang up on you that first time, but when I wasn’t joining in, they got more pissed off. They pulled me aside and basically—well, they threatened me.” Nick looked up again. “Like I said, I’m not making excuses. I still made my own choices and they were the wrong ones. I just want you to know that I hated myself the whole time. I wasn’t bullying you and then laughing behind your back, going around without a care in the world. I would bully you and then I’d go home and bully myself for being such a scared piece of shit. My grades dropped so much the guidance counselor stepped in and told me I might lose my scholarship.”

  Nick ran out of words then. He knew he could keep justifying or he could stop talking and he felt like he’d said everything of value he could say. It was up to Chet now to decide whether to forgive him, Chet said nothing, but he no longer looked angry. He stared off into the distance for a while. Then after a minute, he pointed at the taco truck.

  "I'm gonna find out where that taco truck normally is and just camp out there. Or maybe I'll hire them to be at the farm everyday." Chet said it without looking at Nick, but a ghost of a smile played around his lips as he talked.

  Nick took it for the olive branch it was and played along. "As long as you understand that I'll be there at the farm every single day for lunch."

  "For these tacos? I can tolerate you," Chet said with a small smile. Then he smirked. "Something tells me your mom would be pissed."

  Nick feigned terror. "Oh, shit. Maybe just every other day then."

  Chet laughed and suddenly they were right back in that too close staring contest. This time, they were both smiling and Chet kept glancing at Nick's lips, so it was obvious they were both aware of their proximity. Nick could have sworn that Chet started leaning forward just as he himself did.

  Then Tyler and Reagan showed up.

  "Hey, Nick, you found a friend!" Tyler called from a couple of yards away. "I figured you'd find somebody to talk to. Sorry we were gone so long. Reagan ran into one of his cousins, so we got kind of caught up." By the time he was done speaking, he and Reagan had both reached them and Tyler stuck out his hand toward Chet. "Hi, I'm Tyler."

  Nick could see the instant that Chet put the names together and figured out who he was looking at. To his credit, despite going stiff as a board, he didn't make his distaste for shaking Tyler's hand show. Instead, he gave a vague smile and held up his own hands, palms out and fingers spread.

  "Sorry, covered in taco sauce. Don't think you want any." He quickly finished his beer in one final chug. "Anyway, I should be going. Nick, it was good to see you." He walked off without another word or backward glance.

  "Fuck," Nick said.

  "Did I do something?" Tyler asked, looking bemused.

  "That was Chet," Reagan said, looking sad. He turned to Nick. "Right? That's who that was?"

  Nick nodded.

  Tyler visibly deflated. "Shit. I'm sorry, Nick. I didn't realize. God, he must hate us so much."

  "He isn't a big fan, no. Especially since I was just talking to him about high school. Of course, I think he probably still hates me more."

  "Didn't look too much like hate to me," Reagan said. "You two looked pretty cozy till we walke
d up and ruined it." He stared after where Chet had last been seen. "You think he'd talk to me? Let me apologize?"

  Nick shrugged. "Only one way to find out." He pulled his phone from his pocket.

  Nick: Reagan wants to know if you'll allow them to apologize

  Nick: He and Tyler are a couple now

  Nick waited, but he assumed Chet either didn't notice his phone going off or didn't care to answer because no answer came. Reagan started talking about his cousin and Nick listened with half an ear. He hated how things had ended with Chet. They'd been having such a good time. He was almost positive that Chet would have kissed him, if Reagan and Tyler hadn't interrupted. Nick might have tried it himself, given a few more minutes of that sexual tension building between them. Now the moment was gone and Chet's anger at him for high school was likely refreshed, rather than waning. He stared into the fire morosely, losing all track of what Reagan was saying now.

  "I was told there was an apology to be had."

  Nick whipped his head around at the sound of Chet's voice.

  "Oh, wow, okay, well, first of all—"

  Nick was so surprised to see Chet again that he didn't hear a word that either Reagan or Tyler said to him for nearly a full minute. His brain was overloaded by shock and by wondering what this meant, that Chet had willingly come back to hear their apology. Did it mean he was open to allowing Nick to apologize again? To maybe accepting it, and possibly even moving forward to a point where they could be... something?

  "—right, Nick?" Tyler asked, snapping Nick back to the present.

  "Um, sorry, I missed the question."

  "I said, high school was a hard time for all of us," Tyler repeated.

  "Well, yeah, but I think Chet had it a lot worse than the three of us," Nick said.

  Tyler started to say something else, but Reagan beat him to it. "And the three of us were a big part of that. I'm really sorry, Chet. I hated myself so much back then. And now I hate that I forced that feeling onto you. You didn't deserve any of the things we said or did. The fact that we were all struggling with the same thing just makes me feel so much worse."