Bailey
It turned out Stu’s attack kicked off a week of crap. The day after the girls found out about my “liaison” with Tremaine, Emery showed up at the inn with what I would soon discover was sympathy coffee.
What is a sympathy coffee, you may ask.
A sympathy coffee is one that is delivered with an empathetic expression and, “I wanted it to be a friend to tell you that Vaughn has left for Manhattan.”
The words made me numb and while my reply had been “Oh” while I accepted said coffee, and not the sympathy, inside I was calling that man insulting names I didn’t even know were in my vocabulary.
At my non-outward reaction, Emery had given me these big puppy dog eyes.
The puppy dog eyes, even on someone so cute, were annoying. “I don’t care,” I’d snapped.
She didn’t look like she believed me. “If you need someone to talk to, just let me know.”
And maybe because it was Emery and she was less demanding and intrusive than, say, me, I found myself calling out to her as she was leaving, “Is it permanent? Tremaine. Has he gone for good?”
My friend had given me a sad smile. “I don’t know. But the staff at Paradise seem to think he’ll be gone awhile.”
I’d shrugged, nonchalant. “Okay.”
Emery wasn’t buying my nonchalance but like I knew she wouldn’t, she didn’t push me. Instead she’d left me to sip at my sympathy (I was kind of accepting it now) coffee while I pondered the idea of a Hartwell-less Tremaine.
“A heartless Tremaine, you mean,” I’d huffed to myself, horrified at the sound of those words catching on my tears. The tears were forced down with my swallows of coffee but the pain, the hurt of his defection, gripped at my entire body.
I walked in on Tom having sex with another woman and I hadn’t felt this kind of pain.
It was so typical of me to impulsively give a piece of myself to a man part of me didn’t even like. To see something in him that was worth loving.
“You deserve better.” I’d studiously returned to looking through the applications I’d received for the position of my manager.
I hadn’t gotten far when the inn phone rang.
“So you didn’t think your mother and father might want to know that you’ve been attacked in the inn?” my father’s voice had snapped down the line as soon as I answered.
Shit.
I’d put off informing my parents of the attack because I didn’t want to deal with the consequences. But it was wrong of me to keep it from them. “I’m sorry, Dad.”
“So you should be,” Mom had said. “We had to hear from Jaclyn.”
The mayor. Mum’s best friend. Of course. “I’m sorry, Mom.”
“We’re flying out,” Dad had said.
“No.” I loved my parents, I missed my parents, but the last thing I needed was the chaos they’d bring. It wasn’t my dad. It was my mom. She loved me, she was proud of me, but she also, like me, did not have a brain-to-mouth filter. She would go around the inn criticizing it because it was so different to her taste, and then she’d try “fixing” it. I did not need that stress on top of everything else. Moreover, my father was too insightful when it came to me. He’d take one look at me and know I was hurting over something or someone.
“Don’t do that,” I’d insisted. “I’m really fine and we’re handling it. Sheriff King is on it.”
“It isn’t up to you whether we come out there or not,” my mom had screeched.
“Dad, take me off speakerphone.”
“Don’t you dare, Aaron!”
There had been a clicking noise and then my father’s voice sounding softer, quieter. “I’m off speakerphone.”
“Aaron, that’s not fair!” I’d heard my mother yell in the background. She’d continued to yell, but it got more distant until it cut off entirely.
“I’m in my den,” Dad had explained. “You can speak freely.”
“I know Mom will be mad at me and you for cutting her out of this conversation but, Dad . . . you know I love her . . . but I can’t deal with Mom being here right now. I’m in the middle of dealing with the police about Devlin, I’m up to my eyeballs in applications for the manager position, and I’m still trying to work through things after Tom and I . . .”
“And your mother would complain about the changes you’ve made to the inn and try to fix things,” Dad had said on a sigh.
I’d smiled because I loved my father and I loved that he understood us all so well. “Yes. Exactly. It would be too much.”
“And what am I supposed to do? Just sit here in Florida and worry about my kid?”
“I’ll be fine. I have Jessica and Cooper watching out for me. I’ve got most of the town watching out for me. I am very lovable, you know.” I’d winced as soon as I said it because apparently I wasn’t so lovable to some folks.
“I wouldn’t feel right not coming out to you.”
“Let’s compromise. Let me get everything in order here. Just give me a few weeks and then if you still want to fly out here you can. It’s not that I don’t miss you. You know I do.”
“I know, Cherry.” He’d sighed. “Fine. I’ll give you a few weeks but if anything else happens that I don’t like, I’m coming out there whether you can handle your mother’s controlling behavior or not.”
We’d soon hung up, leaving the poor man to deal with the aftermath of cutting Mom out of the conversation, then I’d concentrated on those applications again. In fact I busied myself as much as possible, not giving myself time to think about anything else but the inn.
But the day I discovered Vaughn had crossed states possibly to get away from what happened between us, Sheriff King showed up at the inn with more crappy news.
“I’m sorry, Bailey. I can’t press any charges against Stu. I will keep an eye on things, however. And you let me know if the Devlins start harassing you.”
There weren’t enough words to describe the impotency I’d felt in that moment. The injustice. I wanted to track down Dana and Stu, slap her for being a traitor to womankind, and knee him devastatingly hard in the balls to save the world from the possibility of him reproducing.
I didn’t voice this or my disappointment. “And what about Jackson?”
King narrowed his eyes on me. “You leave all that to me.”
And on that rather attractively reassuring note (the man was potently masculine), the good sheriff had left me to brood.
You can imagine how I felt then, after suffering crappiness upon crappiness, when Rex strode into my inn that evening.
Rex McFarlane. As in, the Rex I’d called and humiliated by sharing my mortifying discovery of our respective lovers having sex. I’d meant to apologize to him but with everything else going on in my life, I’d forgotten. Horrible but true.
I was convinced my week was about to get crappier.
Bolstering myself, I’d walked over from where I was dusting the fireplace mantel in the inn reception area, to where he was staring at the little bell located at the check-in counter.
“Rex?”
He turned toward me.
And he smiled. “Bailey.”
Surprised by his congenial tone, I walked right up to him. “What are you doing here?”
This time his smile was sad as his dark brown eyes wandered over my face. I’d found Rex adorable when we first met because he reminded me of my teenage crush, Josh Hartnett. He was dark and tall like him, charming and cute. He was a very cute twenty-four-year-old young man.
“I . . . uh . . .” He stuffed his hands in his pockets, hunching over as if he were uncomfortable. “I guess I came here to talk.”
“Is it about what I did? Calling you like that? Because I have been meaning to get in touch to apologize. I wasn’t in my right mind; it had just happened, I had just caught them and they were, you know, and
it was bad and I saw her purse and I just grabbed her phone and then I called you and it was bad and I shouldn’t have—”
“Bailey.” He interrupted my ramble. “It’s okay. It may not have been the right way to do it, but it was the right thing to do. Telling me, I mean. So thank you.”
“I’m still sorry.”
“Yeah. I know. That’s kind of why I’m here.”
“Oh?”
He ran a hand through his shaggy hair and glanced around, as though he were checking we were alone. “Do you have some time right now . . . to talk?”
“I can take a walk,” I said.
Rex seemed to deflate with relief. “Great. I just . . . Okay, you can say no, but I haven’t been able to talk to anyone about Erin and . . . I need someone to talk to. You’re the only person I know who gets it.”
The truth was I had moved on from Tom. Yes, I still missed my friend. I missed the familiarity of him, and having this person in my life who knew me so well. But my heart was aching over someone else. Over a different kind of situation.
Yet . . . I could still sympathize with Rex. It might be nice to be distracted from my own hurt by talking about someone else’s pain for a while.
And of course . . . I could never say no to the wounded.
After I let Mona know where I was going, I walked Rex out and onto the boardwalk. In silence, I led him down onto the beach where we both took off our shoes and let our feet sink in the soft sand. The summer season was in full swing now, and even after sunset the beach was busy. Still, we had privacy in our little bubble of two as we began to make our way along the shore.
“So what would you like to talk about?” I started.
“I feel a little weird now that I’m here. I mean, we barely know each other and this shit is kind of personal.”
“I know this may mean nothing to you but believe me when I say you can trust me. I’m a vault.”
“Tom used to say that.” Rex flinched at his name. “He used to wax lyrical about you, about how much he trusted you, how you were so loyal. I think I was more shocked about him screwing you over than I was about Erin.”
Maybe I wasn’t quite over my ex’s betrayal because Rex’s words weren’t exactly easy to hear.
“I guess he forgot all that when Erin’s twenty-three-year-old breasts bounced by.”
I immediately regretted my sardonic tone because Rex paled.
Squeezing his arm, I apologized. “I have no filter.”
He gave me a weak smile. “Tom said that, too.”
“Tom said a lot, huh?”
“Yeah. All of it good. I’m sorry he cheated on you, Bailey.”
“I’m sorry Erin cheated on you.”
When he kicked at the sand, staring despondently at his feet as he did so, he reminded me of a sad, lonely little boy. My heart hurt for him. “Rex?”
“I . . . I feel angry all the time,” he admitted. “Not because . . . I . . .” He sucked in a deep breath and exhaled. More composed, he continued, and he spoke so quietly I had to lean in to hear. “I told Erin things about my life, about my family, that I haven’t told anyone. I decided to trust her. She was the first woman I trusted.”
“And she betrayed you.”
Our eyes met. “Yeah,” he whispered.
“I’m so sorry, Rex.”
“Me, too. Because now . . . now I’m scared shitless that all the stuff I thought I got over, all my goddamn trust issues—” He broke off in a hollow laugh. “I can’t believe I’m telling you this shit.”
“You’re telling me because you need someone to tell it to.”
He stopped to stare out at the water. “I don’t want to be that bitter guy who ends up with nothing and no one because he couldn’t bring himself to trust anyone.” I found myself captured in Rex’s soulful gaze. “I’m not that guy, Bailey. I . . . Life has tried to make me that guy but deep down it’s not in my nature. But I can feel it happening . . . and I just want to put a stop to it before it’s too late.”
Moved by his honesty and touched that he’d shared it with me, even if he only came to me through lack of options, I curled my hand around his wrist in comfort. “You’re talking to me. And you might not believe this yet, but you’ll learn that you can trust me. There are people out there worth trusting.”
He covered my hand with his other one and closed his eyes. He stayed like that for a while and I let him, enjoying the calm surroundings with him, even as the sounds of laughter and conversation drifted toward us from the people on the beach.
Eventually Rex opened his eyes and he gave me this small, amazed little smile.
I couldn’t help but smile in return. “What?”
He shook his head in disbelief. “That’s the first time since you called that I’ve felt a modicum of peace.” He nudged me with his shoulder, playful, teasing. “You’ve bookended this chapter in my life. Chaos and peace.”
I gave a huff of laughter. “There are many people who would say that is a very apt description of me: bringer of chaos and peace.”
“There are worse monikers.”
We shared a grin and I was pleasantly surprised by the feeling of warmth that suffused me. There was no doubt in my mind that I’d made a connection with young Rex, and that life might just have handed me a new friend.
FOURTEEN
Bailey
One Month Later
“We’re supposed to be discussing the bridesmaid dresses. Bailey. Earth to Bailey.”
My head jerked up from my phone at the sound of my name. “What?”
I had a day off because I had a new manager to help take care of things at the inn.
The whole business of finding a manager had been stressful after the Devlin incident. If I’d found it hard to put my trust in someone before the attack, now I was even more wary. Thankfully, Cooper’s sister Cat had come up with a suggestion that surprised me.
Aydan, her best friend, was working two jobs because her cheating scumbag husband had taken off a couple of years ago, leaving her alone to look after their teenage daughter, Angela. Aydan bartended at Germaine’s, a bar off Main Street, at night and she worked as a part-time receptionist for a hair salon. Moreover, her daughter worked weekends at the fun park the Devlins owned a few blocks back from the boardwalk.
Aydan was exhausted and even working the two jobs together, she wasn’t earning what she could be earning as my manager. Cat swore that her friend was hardworking and a quick learner. With her character reference I hired Aydan, despite her lack of qualifications. My father said I was nuts, my mother used other adjectives, but I did it.
I worried about it.
But I did it.
A month later I was happy. Relaxed even. Between the Devlins backing off entirely because of Stu’s stupid stunt and my new manager, I was almost stress-free.
Aydan was an angel sent from heaven. Cat wasn’t lying when she said the single mother was a fast learner. And a people pleaser to boot. My guests loved her.
I loved her.
My life was finding balance again now that she was there to help out.
The faster she learned, the more free time I had, and she was willing to give me that free time because I was so flexible with her when it came to Angela. When Angela broke up with her boyfriend and was a sobbing wreck, I covered Aydan’s shift so she could go be with her kid.
She appreciated that and we soon fell into that kind of give-and-take working relationship.
I felt like she’d been working for me longer than a month.
Jessica frowned at me. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.”
“Well . . .” She pointed to my phone, as she petted the top of Louis’s head.
“Oh. Sorry.” We were at her and Cooper’s place with Dahlia and Emery, and there was a whole bunch of wedding stuff scattered across
the dining table. I was supposed to be helpful in this rushed wedding extravaganza, not distracted. “Rex just sent me a text.”
“I thought you just had brunch on the beach with him,” Dahlia said before biting into one of the donuts Jessica had laid out for us.
“I did. But it was kind of a hard conversation and, um . . . I think he’s feeling vulnerable. He’s still in Hartwell and wants to have dinner. Would you guys mind if I rain-checked ours tonight?”
While Emery and Jessica said, “Of course not,” Dahlia eyed me in suspicion. “What is going on with you two?”
“Not that.” I read her dirty mind. “He’s nine years younger than me. He doesn’t see me that way.”
“Oh, of course not. He’s just a man with a working penis and you’re just a beautiful woman in your prime.”
Jessica and Emery snorted.
I rolled my eyes. “It’s not like that. He’s lonely and he needs someone to talk to. He trusts me.”
“And he wants to get into your pants. Maybe for revenge sex.”
“Dahlia,” I warned. “Not funny.”
She winced. “Sorry. I . . . just . . . I’m worried about you.”
“Why would you be worried about me?”
“Let’s see. Your boyfriend of ten years cheats on you, you’re surprisingly okay with that, you get attacked, you have mind-blowing sex with your enemy, he ups and disappears, and then you end up having this weird, cozy codependent relationship with the ex-boyfriend of the girl who fucked your ex-boyfriend.”
I stared at her, my lips parted, but no words came out.
Silence rang out around the room.
And then I groaned, “Jesus Christ, that does sound insane.”
“Uh-huh.”
“It’s not as insane as that in reality,” I promised. “The Rex thing is just platonic. He needed someone to talk to, to find a way to trust again, and I gave him that.”
“Yes, because you can’t help yourself. You have to rescue people,” Jessica said. “But have you stopped to work out how you’re feeling? For a start: Vaughn. I don’t believe for a second that you are okay with what happened between you two.”
Every Little Thing Page 16
