Love, All (Camp Firefly Falls Book 19)

by Tamsen Parker

  She never missed work, she knew the whole store back and forth and could run the place with a skeleton crew of just her, a counter person, and a bike or ski tech depending on the season. She was honest, she was loyal, she was a hard worker, and she’d been able to learn anything they needed her to learn. She was good with customers, good with the computer systems, and if given the chance, she could develop relationships with vendors because she knew their catalogues backward and forward. What more could he possibly ask for?

  The door to Mr. Landry’s tiny office was closed, and there were voices inside so she knocked. She’d gotten the time correct, right?

  There was a burst of laughter, followed by Mr. Landry shouting, “Come in!”

  When she opened the door, Tess spilled out, practically knocking her over.

  “Okay, Uncle Jim. Thanks, and I’ll see you in a week.”

  In a week? Was Tess taking another vacation? Nice work if you could get it, but if Ruby was remembering correctly, that was the third week Tess had taken off this summer, along with several long weekends. Well, that was fine. All the more reason for Mr. Landry to give Ruby a promotion, if Tess wasn’t going to be around all that much.

  “Ruby! Come on in. How you doing, kid?”

  Yep, everyone was kid to Mr. Landry. She’d seen eighty-year-old women blush and twitter when he called them that.

  “I’m doing fine, Mr. Landry. How are you?”

  He launched into a complaint about a vendor’s new online ordering system that he hated, and Ruby did her best to nod along and be empathetic, even though in her head she was screaming, Then let me do it. I’m good at that stuff.

  Which she offered to do before he shrugged her off. “I’m sure Tess can figure it out when she gets back from the Vineyard. Anyway, what was it you wanted to talk to me about?”

  Tess could afford to go to Martha’s Vineyard? Shit, how much was she getting paid? She didn’t have children, but damn. Must be a fair sight more than Ruby, that was for sure. What she could do with what it would cost to spend a week on Martha’s Vineyard…

  She wasn’t going to think about that now. She was going to make her pitch based on her merits, which were more than enough to deserve a promotion.

  “Mr. Landry, I’ve worked for you for eight years. I show up every day. I fill in for other people when they’re sick or on vacation. I’ve trained most of the staff that are here now, and I know every inch of this store, outside the bike shop, almost as well as you do. So what I’d like to talk to you about is a promotion and a raise.”

  Mr. Landry blinked at her, his jowls wavering slightly with his frown. “You just got a raise at the beginning of the summer.”

  Yes, for a quarter per hour. That ten extra dollars per week was nice, but it didn’t buy a whole lot. “I did, and I appreciate that, I do.”

  “But?”

  “But with all the extra responsibilities I’ve taken on here and with the amount of time I’ve dedicated to this store, I feel as though I’m qualified to be named a manager. I have a whole list of reasons written out here if you’d like me to go over all of my contributions.”

  There. She’d said it. And if he wanted to bargain her down to assistant manager, she’d take it. But no sense in making that her opening offer if he might be willing to give her more.

  Mr. Landry leaned back in his chair, his bushy eyebrows drawing together, and his fingers knitting over his upper-middle-age-thickened gut. “You have been a very valuable and reliable employee for us, can’t argue with that.”

  His mouth tightened, and he was going to say one of two things. After her fallout with Nate and the subsequent two weeks of moping because she’d lost possibly the best thing that had happened to her since Chloe, she needed something good to happen, so she was really hoping it would be, And so we’re going to reward you with a raise and a promotion, and hell, retroactive pay for the past three years that you’ve been working as if you were a manager but not being paid like one.

  She didn’t have a lot of hope for that last part because Mr. Landry was kind of a penny pincher, but she’d be satisfied with the first two.

  “But—”

  Fuck.

  “But I’m afraid we can’t afford to have two managers on staff. And I’ve just promoted Tess.”

  Red dots danced in her vision. Tess? Sure, Tess was…fine. But Ruby was better. She worked harder, she stayed later, she knew more. Tess? Ruby swallowed her outrage because yelling and throwing shit wouldn’t get her anywhere but fired. Perhaps reason would get her further.

  “You promoted Tess? But she’s only been here three years, and she doesn’t know how to use the inventory software. And she doesn’t know anything about sneakers or cleats or sunglasses. And she—”

  “You’re right. She doesn’t. But she’s a bright girl, and she’s family.”

  Goddamn nepotism? Really?

  “Mr. Landry, far be it from me to tell you how to run your shop, but I feel like promoting someone just because she’s your niece is—”

  “None of your business?” Jim’s normally cheerful face had taken on a ruddy cast of anger. “I’ve run a successful business for over forty years, young lady. We’ve survived the big box stores and the internet, and we’ll keep surviving. I’ve always hired family, and I always will. You don’t have to agree with my decision; you just have to abide by it. Maybe in the new year we can talk about another pay raise depending on how the start of ski season goes. But for now, why don’t you get back to work? Because we both know you’re not in any position to walk away from this job.”

  So that’s how things were? He was going to take advantage of her being a single parent with limited job opportunities because they lived in a small town and it would be next to impossible for her to leave? Even if she could scrape together the money for a move, she’d still have to sell her house and find a new job where the cost of living would be reasonable enough for her to afford. Where would she find someone willing to pay her more than she made now? Not to mention a place that would have good schools for Chloe and a barn where they’d let Ruby barter mucking out stalls and cleaning tack for some of Chloe’s lessons?

  Landry was right, and she hated him for it. Not that it was his fault exactly, but… She’d been really fucking angry when Nate had tried to unilaterally move her up to Boston, but at least he’d had her best interests at heart. He’d tried to figure out a way for them to be together and for her to have things that she wanted. Like a better job or some fucking time off. The way he’d gone about it was all wrong, but what he wanted for her and had been trying to help her get was right. And here was a person who she’d worked her ass off for basically telling her he’d keep taking advantage of her work ethic and her loyalty because she didn’t have any other choices.

  Men.

  She had some serious thinking to do about her life choices. What they would mean for her, what they would mean for Chloe. But in the meantime, she couldn’t rip off her apron and throw it in Landry’s face and tell him to go to hell. So she stood, swallowed the thickness in her throat, and said, “Okay. Thanks for your time,” before she walked out the door and shut it behind her. Then she let the angry tears spill down her cheeks.

  Chapter Twenty

  His new couch was awesome. Comfortable and nice to look at and so much better than the falling-apart futon he’d replaced. But Nate kinda wanted to set the damn thing on fire.

  Yes, it would be as good as throwing money down the drain, but it hurt to sit here, feeling the empty space beside him. If Van and Willa didn’t live across the country, he could maybe fill it up with them. Hell, he could call his parents and they’d probably come up tomorrow if he asked, but they’d ask about Ruby and Chloe, and he just…he couldn’t tell them. Not yet. Even after a month, it hurt too much. Maybe if he kept the news to himself, it would never be real. He could live in limbo in his much-nicer apartment and pretend that, any day now, Ruby would change her mind.

  He didn’t regret it, being with
her. It had been amazing, and he wouldn’t trade his time with her or with Chloe for anything, but that didn’t make it not painful.

  He’d always been good enough. Almost anything he’d tried his hand at—okay, except water-skiing—he’d been able to master. Or at least put in a respectable performance. But the one woman he’d really fallen hard for, made him want to change for, he wasn’t good enough for. Hell, he wasn’t enough. He didn’t blame Ruby, not at all, but he hated it all the same.

  In the process, he’d somehow managed to make her feel as though she wasn’t good enough, that he was trying to change her, fix her. He knew she didn’t need fixing, but dammit, could the woman not accept some help? He could absolutely admit he’d gone overboard. But it had been more out of being too excited to think about how it might make Ruby feel than a cunning manipulation to turn her into some sort of model wife. What did one of those even look like? As far as he could tell anymore, it was someone who made you happy, and he was pretty sure if he hadn’t fucked up and if Ruby would’ve listened that they could’ve figured something out. Someday. Maybe.

  And when had he ever let himself be a moper? Never. He’d always done something about his problems. Maybe didn’t solve them, but trying was better than not. If he were going to start by assuming that Ruby and Chloe weren’t going anywhere, how could he fix this? How could he make it possible for them to be a family? Maybe he could convince Uni to let him work remotely. Maybe he could work a day or two in the office and dial in the rest. Maybe—

  Maybe he should knock it the fuck off.

  All of this problem-fixing was what got him into hot water in the first place. No, that wasn’t quite right. He thought Ruby liked how his engineer brain worked. She’d seemed to appreciate it when he talked to her about his job, anyway. Been impressed. It was more that he hadn’t stopped in all his fix-it mania to ask what Ruby wanted. He’d just assumed. And as much as he tried to be empathetic, he didn’t entirely get what it had been like for Ruby. What it was still like.

  His mom was right. He’d been so goddamn lucky, and even though he knew that intellectually, he didn’t always take it into account when it really mattered. Van and Willa had drilled some aspects of it into his head, but he still had a long way to go. What he ought to do was talk to Ruby. Find out what she wanted and if there were ways they could work together for her to have it. First he’d have to get her to talk to him at all, and that in and of itself could prove to be a challenge. She probably wouldn’t answer a call or a text. Showing up at Landry’s would not be okay, and waiting on her doorstep seemed too invasive. Mail her a letter and risk it ending up in the trash? It was too bad carrier pigeons weren’t really a thing anymore. Way harder to ignore a bird…

  His brainstorming was interrupted by a knock on his door. It was probably Monty from down the hall. He was most likely stoned and looking for snacks. To be fair, Nate’s kitchen was stocked, so it wasn’t a bad choice. He wasn’t really in the mood for chatting, though, especially with someone who was basically a cartoon of a hippy when he was high, so hopefully Monty would take his chips and his pickles and his cookies and go. Let Nate wallow instead of discussing how fascinating hands were.

  When he opened the door, though, it wasn’t Monty. Nope. It was Ruby, her hair scraggly and wet, but of course she was wearing a raincoat and wellies because she wasn’t entirely unpractical. Her eyes were wide and wild, and she looked downright terrified.

  “Is Chloe okay?” He couldn’t think of many things that would have Ruby pale and shaking, but something happening to her daughter was one of them.

  Ruby’s brow wrinkled. “Chloe? Oh, no, she’s fine. She’s, um, she’s with your parents, actually. When I left, they were playing dominoes.”

  Chloe was with his parents? Why—?

  “I asked if they could watch her while I came up here, and they said yes. I…I asked someone for help, and they gave it to me. You Carters are okay, you know that?”

  Nate let a smile kick up the side of his mouth. “We’re all right, I guess. Except for sucking at the whole inviting you in so you don’t have to keep standing in the hallway. Sorry about that, I was surprised.”

  He waved her in, wincing as she looked at the couch. For all the good the fucking thing had done him. He totally wanted to throw it off the fire escape into the dumpster, douse it in gasoline, and fling a lit match after it. What would stoned-out-of-his-gourd Monty make out of a literal dumpster fire? He could think about it later. For now, he let his Georgina-Carter-School-of-Hosting lessons take over.

  “Can I get you something to drink or eat? Restroom is down the hall on the right if you need it.”

  She knew. She’d been here before. And why was he treating her like anyone who showed up at his place unannounced? He wanted to hug her, kiss her, get down on his knees and promise to fix all the ways he’d fucked up if she’d tell him how. Hell, if he was being honest, he wanted to drag her to his bedroom and strip her clothes off and drive her wild until she begged for him to be inside of her. But nah, maybe she wanted a goddamn cup of tea. Actually, tea wasn’t a terrible idea. She was wet and probably kind of cold.

  “I could boil some water, make you some—”

  “Or you could shut the hell up.”

  Yep, he could do that, too. And he would, because this—Ruby showing up at his door having left Chloe with his parents—this had the makings of something really good, and he didn’t want to be any further away from good news than he had to be.

  ***

  “Okay.”

  Her mouth pursed, and after snapping at him, the attitude felt as though it drained out of her and was replaced by a dialed-down version of the fear that’d had her stomach rioting when she first arrived.

  She took a deep breath and blew it out again.

  “I came here, because I wanted to ask…I wanted to ask if it was too late.”

  Ruby didn’t like the way her fingers sought each other, tangled together and twisted in front of her. She should’ve marched in here, told Nate she’d changed her mind. But it wasn’t quite that simple. She’d hurt him, hurt both of them. She wouldn’t blame him if he were wary. After all the times he’d showed up for her, she’d rejected him and not kindly. She hadn’t admitted that she was terrified, she hadn’t conceded exactly how hard it was for her to ask for help, and she definitely hadn’t wanted to tell him how much she loved him. She could’ve and still said no, and he would’ve understood. But instead, she’d chosen to burn it all down, and that’s why she thought she might be too late. It might take Nate a while to trust her again, and she’d earn it as surely as he’d earned hers.

  “Too late?” he echoed her, and his eyebrows crunched together adorably. He looked as though he hadn’t shaved for days, and not in that artfully scruffy way he did sometimes. Dude just did not look good. He looked, in fact, about the way she’d felt for the past couple of weeks. “Too late for what?”

  “Chloe is supposed to start school next week. She’s supposed to start school, and I realized while we were making a back-to-school shopping list that I didn’t want her there. And I didn’t want her coming home from school to an empty house every afternoon and then having me come home so tired I can barely get dinner on the table or help her with her homework.”

  It wasn’t just about that, though. It wasn’t just about the things Nate’s money could buy them. And hopefully he would see that given the way she’d thrown such a fit last time. It was about Nate himself, and as much as it made her want to vomit, she needed to tell him. “Every time I thought about it, I pictured you there. And then I had to remember that I’d cut you out of the picture, and—”

  Her stomach hurt. Her whole body hurt. Like she hadn’t only cut Nate out of the picture but cut herself up as well. “I’m so sorry, Nate. I’m so, so sorry. The way I talked to you wasn’t okay, and I did it because I was so goddamn scared. I don’t tell you that to make excuses, because there’s no excuse for what I said to you, but I thought maybe you could underst
and a little that it wasn’t coming from a place of anything I said being true, at all, ever, but because I’m bad at asking for things. And being attached to people. And lots of other stuff, too.”

  He took a step toward her, as if he might touch her, and she wanted it, badly. But he pulled up short, and that was fair. She owed him more than that before she could expect to be forgiven.

  On the plus side, a half-smile ghosted over his face. “Maybe. But you kick ass at stringing tennis racquets and fixing shit after only having watched a YouTube video on how to do it. And keeping your family afloat, even though I know you feel like you’re bailing out a sinking ocean liner with a spoon. You’re good at lots of stuff. No, not good. Incredible. And I owe you an apology for ever making you think I felt any differently. I didn’t think about how doing all this would make you feel. I just let my engineering instincts take over, and well, my robots don’t have feelings. Not yet anyway. I wanted to figure out a way for us to be together, and…”

  He took a deep breath, and his brow creased as though he was gathering his thoughts. “I went overboard, and I should’ve talked to you. Let you in on it instead of just trying to fix it by myself. I’ve been super lucky, and everyone around me has always made it easy for me to ask for help. It’s not a big deal for me, and I didn’t understand how you could take me offering you a hand as an insult. I do now. But I hope you know that I expected you to help me right back. I didn’t mean it as pity; I meant it as partnership, as trying to make something happen that I thought would make all of us happy. Let us be a team, you know? I am Team Ruby all the way, and I love you.”

  That man. How could he make her eyes water and her throat get thick? She wanted to make some kind of snarky comment, but instead she swallowed and said, “Thank you. And…I love you, too.”

  He smiled, bigger this time. “So? You wanted to ask me something? If it was too late? Too late for what?”