“Thank you so much for reaching out and for the order.” My eyes got watery when I realized what this meant. My first order from someone I didn’t know. Wow. “I can't tell you what it means and how much I look forward to working with you.”
I tossed the phone on the table and smacked Trish in the arm.
“What is it?”
“An order for a hundred lip glosses. Because she bought some from your food truck and wants to sell it in her store,” I screeched.
Trish whooped. “And you promised her fifty by next week? Are you crazy?”
“Maybe.” I bounced Ella to settle my nerves. There was so much to do besides make the glosses. Trish was going to be out of town, so I wouldn’t have any help. Was there enough space at the apartment to start filling orders of this size?
And I didn’t have the money for supplies.
“How much do you need?”
Was she a mind reader?
“I can’t do that. You have your own business.”
She waved our waiter down and signaled for the bill. “Let’s go order what you need so it will be in New York when you get home.”
“I’ll pay you back.”
“I know.” She clapped her hands together. “Has Cricket finished the new logo?”
“She’s working on it. And this lady wants information on Paths she can display with the product.”
“Mrs. Quinn will be able to help with that. She has some incredible flyers. We probably won’t have to print any. Oh. What are we going to display the gloss in?”
“What about how you do it? With the tiered cake stand?”
“I’m partial.” She winked. “But I think it’ll be perfect. I saw an antique shop in town. Maybe they’ll have something we can use.”
“What about the hike?”
“This is way more important.” She stood and hooked Ella’s carrier over her arm. “Besides, Andrew wanted to hike, and I couldn’t say no.”
“Thank God.” I shifted Ella to the opposite arm as I picked up my purse. “Have you ever seen me do anything outdoorsy?”
“What about me?” She examined her pale skin with a laugh. “This is perfect. Wedding planner. Order supplies. Shop for cake tiers. Spa. Rehearsal dinner.”
“No hike.”
We high-fived.
“No hike.”
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Holt
I yanked at my tie.
I’d had it on less than twenty minutes and it was already choking me.
Dad pulled at his, and Mrs. Quinn placed a hand over his to stop his fidgeting.
“Only a couple of hours, right?”
Dad gave me a knowing look. Meanwhile, my brother looked perfectly at home, most comfortable in a suit and tie.
“How was the hike?” Mrs. Quinn sipped her wine.
“It snowed, so we watched baseball instead.” I canted my head. “What did you get up to today?”
“A little shopping. And the first massage I’ve had in about twenty years.”
“I beg your pardon.” Dad puffed his chest out.
She patted his arm.
“Let’s just skip that conversation,” I said before she could elaborate.
Andrew flicked his chin toward Patrick. “Any idea if Marlow is going to show up?”
“She said she wouldn’t be long.” He checked his watch. “That was half an hour ago. Looks like the best man and best woman are free to hang out.”
I clenched my fist.
Baker smacked him in the arm. “You wish.”
Patrick held his arm where she’d hit him. “Not if you’re gonna be like that.” He paused, a mischievous grin tilting his lips up. “On second thought . . .”
“We don’t have to wait for her,” I said, a little too forcefully. “This is your deal. Not hers.”
“Let’s give her a few more minutes,” Trish said.
Patrick slung his arm around Baker’s shoulder. She snorted as she wiggled away from him. I picked at the label on my beer and glared. Her dress dipped to reveal a hint of that soft cleavage. She wore her hair swept up in some sort of twist, her smooth neck taunting.
Her eyes met mine. She wrinkled her nose and focused on Patrick, those pouty lips with that gloss I loved to taste twitching with a smile at something he said.
I stared. Because I couldn’t not look at her. Once she was out of my life, it would get easier. I’d barely thought of her today. I scrubbed my forehead.
Total truth?
I’d barely thought of anything else.
Mrs. Quinn held up the platter of potato skins. “Better get another before I eat them all.”
Absently, I grabbed one and took a bite before dropping it on my plate. All without taking my eyes off Baker. The food was like clay in my mouth as I chewed.
For a second last night, I’d seen how much I hurt her. There wasn’t a trace of that now. She made it look easy, like the time we’d spent together meant nothing.
“Not talking to her is a page I wouldn’t take out of your father’s playbook.”
I glanced at Mrs. Quinn. “We’d run our course.” The words tasted vile as I spoke them in a hushed tone.
Easy’s eyes flicked to mine, like she’d heard me. This time, I had to look away.
“Okay.” She chewed thoughtfully on an appetizer. “But maybe you want to leave things in a good place. She’s your sister-in-law’s best friend. You can’t avoid her forever.”
Wanna bet? I polished off my beer and signaled the server for another.
“I’ll think about it.”
“I want to thank you.”
My brows pinched. “For what?”
“She needed a nudge to get back out there and try the real world again. You gave that to her,” she said, keeping her voice low.
“By pretty much daring her to be my roommate? She didn’t need me.”
“You and I know that. But she doesn’t.”
Questions swirled in my mind. What had happened to her? We’d promised no talk of the past, but I wanted to know.
“Sorry I’m late.” Marlow rushed over to the table, Blake in her arms.
“Everything okay?” Dad stood to help her, taking Blake while she settled in.
“Blake threw up.”
“You should have called.” Dad smoothed his grandson’s hair.
“He grinned at me as soon as it was over. I guess something didn’t settle well.” She looked across the table at Trish and Andrew. “Sorry I’m not dressed for the occasion. I only brought two. One for tomorrow. The other is ruined.”
Trish reached for her hand. Marlow stared in disbelief before reluctantly taking it.
“We’re glad you made it. Is Blake okay?”
“Seems to be.”
“I saved you and my boy a seat.” Dad indicated to the space next to him, and Marlow settled him in.
Her eyes darted to me before she quickly looked away. I wasn’t ready for this shit, either. When I looked at my sister, I saw a traitor. Someone I thought I could depend on when in actuality, she blamed me for the loss of our mother. Had she felt that way for years? Had she always had a resentment toward me and masked it? She’d spent more time with our mother than any of us. Did Marlow now see the truth?
I didn’t fault her for her feelings, wasn’t even sure I wouldn’t have felt the same in her position. But it still hurt, no matter how I didn’t want it to.
Blake pointed his chubby finger at me. “How!”
“How, buddy.” I reached out my hand, and he clutched my pinky.
“You want Uncle Holt?” Dad nuzzled his hair, and he nodded.
I perched him on my lap. Blake’s tiny fists grabbed my tie. “How!” He beamed at me.
“You’re feeling pretty good now, aren’t you?”
Ella screeched, and Blake echoed her. The back and forth between them went on for a minute, while we all watched. They communicated in some language only they understood.
Trish kissed Andrew on the cheek. “I
think we should have a house full of girls.”
Andrew’s eyes widened. “It’ll send me to an early grave.”
“At least get married before you die,” Patrick said, lifting his whiskey glass. “To Trish and Andrew. May you have a thousand lifetimes of love and happiness.”
“Here, here,” Dad said, raising his glass.
Patrick lifted his tumbler again. “And to one last night out before you’re stuck with each other.”
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Baker
“Are you spending the night with me?”
Trish swayed a little on her barstool. “Nope. I already went the traditional route once. It didn’t work out well.”
I gaped at her, and she burst out laughing.
“Oh-kay.”
Trish never let what happened to her get her down. I admired the way she handled herself, but she rarely spoke so flippantly about it.
She pointed at me. “The look on your face . . . I finally surprised you.”
“You surprise me a lot.” I hugged her. “I’m happy for you.”
She sniffled in my ear. “Big things are going to happen for you.”
I shrugged as one of the men I recognized at the bar with Holt last night approached.
“I’m Clark. Well, I’m Judd, but everybody calls me Clark, so . . .”
“Baker. And this is Trish.”
“Pleasure.” He lifted his beer toward us. “I didn’t mean to interrupt, but we didn’t get a chance to meet up last night. We’ve missed that asshole and sort of hogged him.” He flicked his chin toward Holt.
“Do you work at the park too?” Trish asked.
“Yeah. Holt and I started around the same time. He’s back just in time for me to take my vacation,” he said with a grin.
“What do you mean?” I asked before I could stop myself.
“He’s back on Monday. I’m going to the hot tub.”
“He’s staying?” The words fumbled from my mouth.
Clark’s brow dipped into a V. “Yeah. That boy isn’t city material anymore. He belongs out here.” He slung an arm around Holt as he walked past. “Don’t you?”
“Don’t I what?”
“Belong out here. We knocked the city right out of you.”
Holt glanced at me and swallowed hard before playfully punching Clark in the stomach. “You’ve never knocked anything out of me.” He motioned toward the crowd. “Come on. Let’s go get my brother a shot before he tries to duck out with his beautiful bride-to-be.”
“Hungover or not, he’s getting married tomorrow,” Trish warned.
“I’m not going to be hungover,” Andrew said, sliding an arm around her waist.
“Just the man we’re looking for.” Holt signaled for the bartender.
“Excuse me.” I wedged past and bolted for the bathroom.
I cursed under my breath when I found Marlow in front of the mirror, reapplying . . . my lip gloss?
“I like this stuff.” She shrugged and ringed her lips with her pinky. “What’s with you? You look like someone hurt your feelings.”
“Let’s not pretend, okay? You don’t like me. I don’t like you. And after this weekend, we’ll hardly ever see each other.”
She turned and propped a hip on the counter. “Things didn’t work out with you and my brother?”
“He’s none of your business.”
She sighed and looked up at the ceiling. “I’ve said and done a lot of shit I shouldn’t have, but contrary to what you might think, I want him to be happy.” Her mouth rolled as if what she had to say was painful. “You make him happy.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
She lifted one shoulder. “Maybe. Maybe not.” She dropped her lip gloss back in her purse. “But I know he got hurt. Bad enough not to want to try again. You made him forget that.”
She shoved past me, the bathroom door closing with a loud thud behind her. The woman said the most obscure things sometimes.
“He didn’t forget.” I saw with my own eyes exactly how much he remembered when his hands were on her hips.
I splashed water on my face, which didn’t help. The door opened, and I dried my cheeks.
“What did she say to you?”
I wheeled around, as Holt locked the door.
“What do you care?”
“I won’t let her hurt you.” He crossed his arms over his chest.
“Oh no? What are you going to do about it when we’re back in New York and you’re way over here?” I waved my hand around above my head.
“Easy, look—”
“Don’t call me that,” I screamed as pain lanced through me. “You promised you’d be honest with me. Not about the past, but about now. You never had any intention of staying in New York. Why didn’t you just tell me?”
“Listen—”
I stalked over to him and shoved a finger into his chest. “No, you listen. I don’t know what kind of sick game you were playing, but it’s over. You’ve got your girl. You’ve got your life out here. Leave me alone.”
I turned the lock, but he didn’t budge from where he blocked the door.
“I couldn’t tell them I quit.”
“I don’t want to hear it,” I said, tugging on the door handle.
“They were so glad to see me back. I didn’t expect that, and I couldn’t tell them I was leaving for good.”
“Now you don’t have to.” I pulled again, my hand slipping from the handle. “Give Andrew your forwarding address and I’ll pack up the rest of your stuff.” I glared at him. “Unless you already did it.”
“Baker.”
“There’s nothing left to say. I’ve seen and heard it all. Now move.” I shoved at his arm.
He stayed rooted in place.
“I’m sorry.”
I kept pushing at him and pulling on the door handle. I didn’t want to hear his apology.
“I should’ve told you about the trip. I didn’t want any of my family to come.”
I whipped my head to him. Did he think I’d believe this crap?
“I wanted to keep here and there separate. Because it’s hard for me to be here. It’s a reminder of all the shitty decisions I’ve made.”
I softened on the inside as something in his voice got to me. But I kept up the tough façade. I couldn’t trust him anymore. Couldn’t tell fact from fiction.
“Then maybe coming back here is a way to remember not to make the same mistakes again.”
He stepped to the side, and I rushed from the bathroom, though I felt him right behind me.
“I never meant to hurt you.”
“You think you have that power?” I wheeled around on him. “No one will ever have that kind of hold on me again. Ever.”
“Good. You deserve someone that can be all you need.”
“Don’t tell me what I deserve.” I stormed toward the bar. “And I don’t need anyone,” I said over my shoulder.
“It’s okay to let people in.” He reached out, but quickly dropped his arm as if he thought better of touching me.
“For everyone else? Not you, right?”
“I did. And they burned me.”
“Now you’re the one with the matches?”
“What the hell are you doing here?”
We both turned at the menace in Mr. Dixon’s voice. He glared at a woman only a few feet away. One with hair the color of Holt’s, eyes like Andrew’s, and lips the shape of Marlow’s.
Her sinister smile sent a chill through me.
“My son is getting married. What kind of mother would I be to miss that?”
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Holt
No fucking way.
No way was I going to let her ruin my brother’s wedding or hurt my father. Marlow stood behind her, face pale.
I pointed at my sister and erased the distance between us. “You. How could you do this?”
“I didn’t—”
“I’m supposed to believe that
? After what I found?”
“What are you talking about?” Dad’s face was a deep crimson, his fists at his sides. Thank God Mrs. Quinn had volunteered to babysit the kids.
Guilt swamped me. Shit. I couldn’t lie to him now. I looked to Andrew for help.
He stepped forward. “You need to leave,” he said, not bothering to hide his contempt.
“It’s a bar, son. You can’t force me to go.”
“I am not your son.”
“The sixteen hours in labor say otherwise.” Her artificial smile turned to me. “I’ve been expecting your call.”
Dad’s gaze bounced from me to her. He pounded his fist on the bar. “How does she know we’re here?”
“You’d better ask your daughter that,” I said, wondering how I didn’t see exactly who my sister was.
“I—”
“Are you gonna deny it?” I challenged.
“I told her about the wedding,” she said, her voice small. “But none of the details.”
I exchanged an incredulous look with Andrew and realized I hadn’t let go of Baker.
Dad stared at Marlow, imploring her.
“I’m sorry, Daddy.”
She hadn’t called him that very much since we were kids. He stumbled back a step with the impact of her words.
“I needed a mother,” Marlow said, her voice thick.
“I don’t begrudge you that,” Dad said hoarsely. “But you didn’t have to keep it from me.”
“I didn’t know how to tell you.”
“Her fiancé was headed off to war. She was pregnant and alone.”
All eyes snapped to the witch who had given us birth.
“Marlow wasn’t pregnant until they got married,” Dad said with certainty. But Jack’s first deployment was when they were engaged. Holy shit.
“Before Blake,” my mother argued.
“Marlow?” Dad choked out.
“I couldn’t tell you.” She swiped at the tears coming down her cheeks.
“I’m a modern man,” he protested. “Did you think I’d be upset?”
“She miscarried. She needed me.”
Marlow needed our never-there mother? What a joke. My sister needed her real family. How much loss had she been through?
Trust Me: A Roommates To Lovers Romance Novel (Free Book 2) Page 20