by Ciara Knight
“This is no game. This is my career.” Knox cornered her between the lever to the lift and the toolbox. “You knew what happened with the last story I did with a garage… This was supposed to make up for that, but now… Now I need you to be straight with me so I might be able to get ahead of this. Manage the fallout.”
Stella fisted her hands and brushed passed him. “Listen here. You’re not welcome in my garage anymore. You want to spout things at me, then explain and ask a question. I’m not one of your bimbo minions you can order around.”
“Fine.” Knox didn’t back down like most men. Instead, he marched up to her and pulled something out of his pocket, unfolded it, and held it out to her. “Explain this.”
Stella saw it. The one secret she’d managed to bury even from the residents of Sugar Maple, even from her friends. She swallowed the fear and agony of the past, lifted her chin, and said, “I can’t.”
Twelve
The garage air was thick with engine oil, old fumes, and lies. “How could you keep this from me?” Knox flashed the mug shot at her again and then tossed it on the hood of the old Chevy. “I thought you were different than the other women who would lie to get on the Knox Brevard show. I guess I was wrong.”
“I don’t lie.” Stella turned her back to him, but not fast enough. He saw it, the regret in her eyes. “I didn’t want to do your show, remember?”
“I asked you if you had anything in your past that could damage my show. You said no.”
She spun on him, her arms stiff by her side. “There’s nothing.”
“Are you trying to tell me this isn’t real? That you didn’t have a mug shot taken when you were…what? Fourteen?”
“Thirteen.” Stella’s voice dipped, as did her chin. “I did have a mug shot, but it didn’t happen.”
“What are you talking about?” Knox fought the anxiety and disappointment. This shouldn’t be hitting him so hard. This girl lied and deceived him. She didn’t deserve his understanding and compassion.
She shot to the hood of the car and snatched the picture. Her face was red, and the lines of an elder with regrets appeared around her eyes. “Where did you get this?”
“The thing in your hand that doesn’t exist?” Knox huffed. “From Lori. I told her to look for anything in your past that could cause harm to my show.”
“You didn’t trust me?” Stella asked, as if she had a right to be upset that he’d discovered her truth.
“Good thing I didn’t. I can’t believe I thought this would work. That you were different. Honest.” His arms, back, and attitude stiffened.
“I am.” Stella continued to study the picture in her hands. “How did she find this? It doesn’t exist.”
“Stop saying that and start explaining since you’re holding proof in your hand that it does exist and that you were arrested.” She had to be lying and hiding some teenage indiscretion. If he was right, what else was she hiding?
“I wasn’t.” Stella walked to the sink, dropped the photo into it, lit a match, and burned the picture. Smoke drifted into the air, along with the chemical odor from the photo paper.
“Burning it won’t make it disappear.” Knox eyed the clock, his watch, and then the clock again. “You need to tell me everything now while you still can. Bradley, the television producer, will be here any minute. If I don’t know what this is all about, then I will pull the plug on all of this.”
Stella looked smaller, less like an Amazon warrior and more like a sad princess stuck in a tower. “So, you’re saying if I don’t tell you about something that didn’t happen, then our deal for the show is over?”
He straightened his tie and adjusted his jacket. “Yes.”
“Then it’s over.” The princess morphed into an evil queen, the way Stella’s eyes blazed and her jaw set with determination.
A car pulled up outside. “Wait, no. You can’t do this. The producer’s here. Just tell me what this is all about so I’ll know how to deal with it. I’ll fix it. I promise.”
“No.” Stella blinked away what looked like tears. “You’re not my hero, and you can’t fix everything.”
Knox wanted to know what happened, but she wasn’t budging. The car door slammed outside. “Tell me this. Did you commit a crime that will damage our show? Did you cheat, commit fraud, get arrested for drugs?”
“No.”
He paced the floor, eyeing the tall man headed for the door. The train for his future had arrived, and he didn’t want to miss the ride. “Grand larceny, arson?”
“No and no.” Stella looked him straight in the eye without blinking. She was telling the truth, but was it because he hadn’t asked the right question?
If he pulled the plug now and then discovered later that he’d made a mistake, he’d regret it for a long time. This was too big, and he needed more intel before making any major decisions. For now, he’d chalk it up to an adolescent indiscretion that was a lesson learned.
“We’ll move forward with Bradley for now, but you and I need to talk more later.” Knox went to the door to greet the man who promised him a better future.
“Not about this, we won’t. Trust me or don’t, it’s your choice, but all I ask is that you keep your Hollywood trap shut. It never happened, so no one in town needs to know. Got it?”
“No promises.”
The man’s footsteps creaked the porch steps.
“Then I walk here and now.” Stella crossed her arms over her chest, and he saw her determination. Whatever had happened, it was so bad she would rather do anything than admit the truth.
“Stay at least until this meeting’s over, and then we’ll talk more. I promise not to say anything to anyone about your record until after we speak.” The knock at the door made his breath catch. “Let’s just hear him out, and then we’ll talk.”
She nodded, but he could see her hesitation. He’d planned to come here and ask her about her past, ease into what had happened when she was younger, but instead, he’d resorted to his old commanding ways.
For a second, he wanted to pull her into a hug and soothe whatever brought tears to her eyes. A woman like Stella didn’t cry easily, not in front of anyone. Not that she’d shed a tear, but he’d seen them.
Stella turned on the faucet, and the smoke disappeared, although the caustic odor of burned film remained behind.
Knox straightened his tie and opened the door. “Hello. Welcome.”
“I wasn’t sure I was in the right place for a moment.” The man offered his hand. “I’m Bradley Houlster.”
“Nice to meet you. I’m Knox Brevard, and over there is Stella Frayser.”
The man didn’t take his hand. Instead, he darted through the entryway, straight to Stella. “Hello. It’s a pleasure to meet such a beautiful woman.” The man bent over and kissed her knuckles. Great, he was a rich Casanova. Stella would probably slug him two minutes into their meeting.
“Nice to meet you.” Stella slipped her hand away and looked to Knox.
He raced to her aid. “I know you wanted to meet here so you could see the place, but why don’t we take a quick look around and then head to the coffee shop to sit and chat.”
Bradley spun around, eyeing all the different corners of the garage. “Is that a 1957 Chevy?”
Stella lit up like a flare in the night sky. “Yes.”
“Original?” Bradley ran his hand down the side of the car.
“Yes. Down to the original switches, steering, and emblem pieces.” Stella reached through the open window and pointed to the dashboard. “Even the original radio. No way I’m going to put something else into this car.”
“You’re a restoration purist?”
“All the way.”
What was happening? Knox clapped his hands together. “Now that you’ve seen the garage, let’s—”
“You know, I have a 1972 Porsche 916.”
Stella smacked him on the arm. “No way. They only made like twelve of those.”
“You know your classics
.” Bradley shot an endearing playboy smile at her. Did she notice they were all caps?
“It’s all I care about.”
“Then why do you want to do a Knox Brevard show?” Bradley leaned into Stella, making sure his elbow touched her. A rookie move, but when he reached around her to dust off something behind her, Knox saw the man was a player of the worst kind.
Knox cleared his throat. “It’ll help save her business.”
“A business she doesn’t really enjoy as much as car restoration from what I can tell. Why don’t I take you for that coffee and we’ll discuss classic cars?” Bradley flipped his thousand-dollar-cut hair.
Stella looked to Knox. “I, um…” She straightened and took a step away from Bradley. “The show is about the garage. It was my grandfather’s, and I love it here. Classic cars are my hobby, but this garage is my business.”
Knox forced his instant dislike for the man under control before he lost his temper and it cost him the streaming deal. “Perhaps we can all go for coffee and talk about the show.”
Bradley opened the driver’s door, popped the hood, opened it, and leaned over the engine. “No need. I’ve already had my team research your show. I have everything I need about you and the platform for the series I’m proposing. It isn’t overly complicated. What I don’t know yet is everything about this garage and this intriguing woman who runs it. I like to know what I’m investing in since I only produce winning shows. You should go get that coffee. We can talk later, Bronx. Have Lori put something on my calendar.”
“It’s Knox. And Lori set this time for us to discuss the show.”
“No. There’s been some sort of misunderstanding. I didn’t come all this way to talk to you. I came to talk to Stella. She’s the reason I’m here.”
Thirteen
The coffeehouse was unusually quiet, but it was early afternoon. Stella cupped her mug and inhaled the eye-opening brew Mary-Beth had concocted as if she’d known Stella hadn’t slept all night.
“Tell us how this morning went. I heard there was drama.” Jackie crossed her legs, her heels so tall they looked like stilts extending out of her feet. The woman had to suffer greatly to be in fashion all the time. No thanks. Combat boots were durable and comfortable.
“No drama here. I don’t look for attention-seeking issues the way some people do.” Stella fought her lip curling with anger and shot Felicia a warning stare. How could she have added coffee social for the friend group on top of dress fitting? Too much to ask for one morning.
“Oh, hon.” Mary-Beth nudged the mug full of steaming liquid with white froth on top toward Stella. “When are you going to believe we only want to help? Tell us what happened.”
Carissa tucked her feet together under the bistro chair, crossing her ankles. “Drew said Knox arrived at the office in a state worse than he’d ever seen him. Something about some egocentric man swooping into town and dismissing Knox.”
“I told you he liked you.” Felicia smiled so bright, Stella wanted to put duct tape over it.
“Don’t be stupid.” She wrapped her fingers around the coffee cup. Mary-Beth had served her coffee in the ceramic mug that the Fabulous Five had made in high school. Anytime someone had a bad day, they’d all meet, and the person who was suffering was presented the cup of love with its nauseating hearts and smiles. And Stella’s gray cloud that Felicia had put pink dots on to make it happier. How many times had Stella drunk coffee from this cup during her troubled times in high school? Maybe if she’d trusted the girls when she was thirteen, she wouldn’t have been in the situation that ended in a mug shot. “Knox didn’t like the fact that Bradley is into cars and cared more about my Chevy than discussing Knox’s new show.”
“Ouch.” Mary-Beth tapped her turquoise-painted nail against her mug. “He wouldn’t take that well.”
Felicia scooted her chair closer without touching Stella. “Listen, we all want this show to happen, but we also know you will hate doing it. Is it worth it?”
“I’ll be fine. I can handle Knox Brevard and his hot air balloon–sized head.” Stella eyed each of them, tempted to dredge up the past and confess her worst nightmares, but she couldn’t do it. The looks of pity followed by the reprimands for not sharing, followed by sleepovers and hair braiding would be too much. No way, no how. It had been easier to focus on each of the other girls’ issues over the years. She almost wished that Jackie would steal another fiancé so they could go back to strained conversations and distance. Things were always easier when you didn’t get too close to people. Although, since the one closest to engagement was Carissa, that would be beyond friendship breaking. It would be life-ending.
“What are you keeping from us, Stella Frayser?” Jackie crossed her arms over her chest and angled her chin with that diva way she did.
“Nothing.” Stella lifted the mug to her nose and inhaled nutmeg and something else that was equally as soothing, but she couldn’t identify its aroma. “I told you, Knox didn’t like being dismissed for a car.”
“The injustice of it!” Jackie pressed her hand to her forehead in a mock faint. “We should all be so lucky to have men fighting over us.”
“Not what happened, and unlike you, I don’t need men fighting over me to prove I’m worth something.” Stella almost felt bad for her harsh words, but Jackie always nudged until Stella blew. She deserved it, though, after she set Stella’s meeting with Knox up for failure with a doll dress and cow slab. Besides, hostility was their communication of choice.
“How did Knox handle that?” Felicia asked, leaning forward in her chair with her elbows on her knees and cup at chin level, as if to shield Jackie from Stella’s anger.
“I don’t know. He was quiet after that. It was uncomfortable. I don’t do uncomfortable.”
“You don’t do anything that requires human emotion.” Jackie shifted her chair to make eye contact around Felicia’s friend block.
Stella ignored her and focused on the others. “Bradley kept me focused on the car, and then he told me about owning a 1972 Porsche 916. Knox was quiet.”
Carissa chuckled. “I take it that’s cool?”
“Cool? They only made 12 of them ever.” Stella abandoned her mug on the table. “Seriously, do you guys ever listen to me when I talk shop?”
“No,” Jackie said with a dismissive wave. “I’d say Knox took it bad, then.”
“Why would you say that?” Mary-Beth asked.
“Because Knox is never quiet. In all the time we’ve spent together, he’s always been boisterous and animated and loves attention in public.” Jackie’s smile said she related to Knox’s behavior.
Stella knew the two of them were much better suited for each other. Knox was never and would never be her man. She’d been distracted by his moments of humanity, but the man still only cared about his show and the fame that came with it. She didn’t have time for that, not when she needed to save her shop. “If you want Knox, you can have him. Not interested.”
Jackie snickered. “He’s not even on my radar, dear.”
“What did Bradley say about why he came here to speak with you?” Felicia asked.
“He didn’t.” Stella let out a big breath she’d been holding since Knox had arrived in town with his idea of doing a story on her shop. “Bradley’s phone rang, and he darted out before he finished sharing information with Knox or me.”
“Why aren’t you both asking her the important question?” Jackie rested her elbows on the table and her fists under her chin and batted her eyelashes.
“What question’s that?” Felicia asked before Stella could kick her under the table so she wouldn’t get snagged on Jacqueline’s baited hook.
“Is the rich car guy handsome?” Jackie asked, continuing to bat her eyelashes.
Stella smacked her face with her palms and groaned. She ran her hands down to her chin and then dropped them onto her lap. “Who cares? I don’t want to deal with another uppity, self-absorbed person in my life. I don’t want to do Knox’s
show. All I want is a little extra work for my garage. Is that too much to ask?”
Jackie obviously got the meaning behind her words. “Better than being a greasy hermit.”
Felicia shot up out of her chair. “We best get going to your shop for our dress fittings. Ms. Horton should be off work now.”
The moderator of their group apparently worked her magic, because Jackie glanced at her designer watch with a diamond bezel and shot up. “You’re going to love your dresses. Banana yellow with fuchsia belt and puffed sleeves.” She darted out of the coffee shop before any of them could react.
“Please tell me she’s joking,” Carissa mumbled.
“If not, this greasy hermit might break in and cut those dresses up for shop rags.”
“For once, I’ll join your felonious plan.” Felicia took a long drink and then put her cup down.
“We should get a move on. We don’t want to keep Ms. Horton waiting. After all, she’s been waiting a lifetime to marry Mr. Strickland.” Carissa stood, pushing her chair in and wiping down the table. “Hey, Stella. I’ll ask Lori if she’s heard anything.”
“I bet if there’s something to find, she’ll know how to uncover it,” Stella said with a bitterness that could sour sugar.
“Whoo. Got a problem with Lori now, too?” Jackie asked.
“No. No problem at all.” Stella couldn’t explain the issue without it leading to more explanations of things she didn’t want anyone finding out about her. She’d spent the last fifteen or so years hiding that memory from everyone, including herself. She wouldn’t even think about it, let alone say it aloud. How could she explain to her friends and everyone else that she’d been arrested at thirteen for solicitation?
Fourteen
Knox stood at the office window overlooking the town square. He spotted Felicia, Carissa, Mary-Beth, and Stella headed from the coffee shop to Jackie’s dress store. According to Lori, they were being fitted for dresses for the mayor’s wedding. It wasn’t until fall, so he didn’t understand the rush.