Until I Met You

by Tari Faris

  “The man just drives me crazy.” Libby rubbed her temple. “He really is Mr. Mean Hot Neighbor.”

  “Because mean people go around offering to pay for people’s groceries?”

  “Not the point.” Libby stared at the baggie of change. “Okay, maybe it is, but he still drives me crazy.”

  Olivia set down her mug. “Crazy being the key word.”

  Libby dropped her head back on the chair and laughed. “I was like a possessed woman when you arrived, and over what? Two dollars and some change. What’s wrong with me?”

  “The Williams men seem to have that effect on women.” Olivia gathered the teacups and carried them to the sink. “I still can’t believe that Nate’s brother moved to town and he never mentioned it to me.”

  “I just feel like nothing is going how I imagined. I thought I was finally moving forward, you know? But all I’ve done is move from my parents’ house to Luke and Hannah’s.”

  Olivia leaned against the counter. “Next step, roommates. When can we move in?”

  “Luke said someone was supposed to give me the key after he fixed something there. But he didn’t say who that is or when that’ll be.”

  The image of Nate in the window flashed back to mind. “I’ve a pretty good idea.” Olivia pulled her hair up in a messy bun and secured it with the band on her wrist, then propped her hands on her waist. “You coming or not?”

  “Where are we going?”

  “To our new place. Grab your baggie of change.”

  As they passed Austin’s place, Olivia snatched the baggie from Libby’s hand and ran up the steps. She slid the money into the mail slot and ran back. “Problem number one solved. On to problem number two.”

  When they arrived at Luke’s rental, the door was open. Olivia took the porch steps two at a time and walked in. The key was confidence. She refused to let Nate know she was still hurting.

  The place didn’t look too bad overall. It needed a good cleaning, and no doubt Luke had plans to update the eighties motif, but for cheap rent, she could live with the dated flowered wallpaper. It was almost retro. Almost.

  Olivia moved through the entryway toward the room where she’d seen Nate. He had his back to them and earbuds in his ears. He drove a screw into the hinge of the door frame.

  Olivia straightened her back, drew in a slow breath, and plastered what she hoped looked like indifference on her face. “Yo, Nate!”

  The drill stopped, and Nate turned around as he pulled out one of the earbuds. His gaze bounced between them before it settled on Libby. “Can I help you?”

  Help Libby? Olivia was the one who’d called his name.

  “Uh . . .” Libby’s face reddened.

  Olivia leaned against the wall. Indifference. Indifference. “This is Libby, Luke’s sister. When can she move in?”

  His face transformed into a genuine smile as he held out his hand. Of course Libby got a genuine smile. His eyes kept drifting to Olivia but never stayed more than a half second. “I think we met at Luke’s wedding. But we both met a lot of people that day, so it’s nice to meet you again. You’re the one with the great idea for the library. Luke asked me to come finish a few things over here so it’d be livable for you.”

  “I’m not too fussy.”

  “But you may want stairs.” He pointed to the corner where the frame of the staircase still stood, but the steps were all absent. “It’ll be about three weeks. Sorry.”

  Olivia pushed away from the wall. “But now you have a date and can make a plan.”

  “I’ll drop the key by Luke’s place when it’s done.” Nate set the drill aside, pulled a card from his wallet, and held it out to Libby. “Has my brother contacted you about the library? The town wants you two to work together to come up with a unified plan for the square. I can set up that meeting if you want.”

  Olivia poked Libby in the shoulder. “Tell him.”

  Libby’s face reddened again as she took the card. “We’ve met. I’m not sure he wants to work with me.”

  “I’ll talk to him.”

  “No—”

  “He’s not angry at you, trust me. This is about him and me, and I’ll handle it.” He looked at Olivia again and took a hesitant step toward her. “Olivia, can we talk?”

  She stepped back and clenched her jaw to keep from saying something stupid—like “yes.” She could no longer afford to let him see her heart—it hurt too much. “I think everything that needs to be said has been said.”

  “You’re just throwing away our friendship?”

  “Were we friends? Right now I don’t even know.” The words gutted her as they rolled off her tongue. Of course they had been friends, but if she’d read the relationship wrong, maybe she’d read everything wrong.

  Nate winced, then he looked at Libby. “Nice to meet you again.”

  Olivia waited for Libby to exit, then slammed the door.

  Libby stood on the sidewalk, mouth open. “And I thought I was bad at relationships.”

  “I’m not bad at relationships. He is.” Olivia marched back to Luke’s in silence. She claimed one of the recliners just before Spitz’s nose landed in her lap. She kicked off her shoes, tucked her long legs up under her, and scratched the dog’s ears. “What are you going to do with Spitz until Luke and Hannah get back?”

  Libby reclined on the couch with Darcy nuzzled into her side. “There’s a fence in the backyard at the rental, so I thought I’d take both of the dogs there if that’s okay.”

  “Fine with me.” More than fine. Something about petting the dog eased some of the tension inside her. As if Spitz didn’t care about the past or the future. He just loved her in the now. In the now, there was no Nate to figure out, no job in Phoenix, and no list of articles to write for a demanding editor.

  Some of the tension returned to her shoulders. “How do you feel about speed dating?”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Speed dating. It’s when you meet twenty guys in one night in a round-robin style—”

  “I know what it is. I just don’t know of anyone who has done it. Is this for that article?”

  Olivia dropped her head back and closed her eyes. “Yes. I already hate this assignment and I haven’t even started. Will you go with me? It could be our first official monthly girls’ night.”

  “We have a monthly girls’ night?”

  “We should. Doesn’t that sound fun?” Olivia clapped her hands together and offered her best pleading expression. “Please.”

  “When is it?” Libby pulled out her phone.

  “Three weeks.” Surely her friend wouldn’t have plans that far out.

  “Fine, but you owe me. Big-time.”

  If speed dating was as bad as Olivia imagined it might be, that was an understatement.

  She couldn’t put this meeting off any longer. Libby pedaled down Henderson Street on Petunia, letting the brisk wind in her face fill her with courage. Many would say sixty degrees was too chilly for a ride, but she always found these days the most satisfying. As if the cold front put the steel in her veins that she needed to face Austin again.

  She’d spent the previous weekend researching town squares, libraries, and even moving buildings. She’d not let Austin intimidate her again. They needed a unified plan, and he’d hear her out whether he liked it or not.

  Libby pulled into Austin’s driveway and stopped her bike behind his truck. Sliding off Petunia, she dropped the kickstand with her foot. But instead of popping into place, it dropped to the ground with a clang. Ugh.

  “Petunia! You can’t fall apart on me.” She eyed the worn basket and chipped purple paint. Petunia had seen better days, but she’d been with Libby through so much. “I’ll get that fixed, girl, but first, I must use this courage before I lose it.”

  She put the kickstand in the basket and laid the bike down, hurried up the porch, and gave three solid knocks. Nothing. He had to be here. His truck was here and she was ready for this conversation. She knocked again. Nothing.
>
  A dog barked in the distance, and Libby followed the sound to the backyard. She peeked over the fence. A small, temporary greenhouse made out of PVC and stretched plastic took up a third of the yard. “Austin?”

  Faint country music trailed out from the structure.

  She tried again. “Austin.”

  Shiro’s paws landed on the fence opposite Libby as the dog barked in her face. It wasn’t an angry bark, but it was loud enough for Libby to jump back and land with a thud on her backside as the music turned off.

  “What are you barking at, girl?” Austin’s voice grew louder.

  Awesome. Him finding her in this position wasn’t quite the look of bold confidence she was going for. Maybe if she didn’t move he wouldn’t know she was here.

  His head peeked over. “Libby?”

  Or she could look ridiculous lying on the ground by his fence. She jumped to her feet and dusted off her backside. “We need to talk.”

  The midday sun highlighted his hair, and from here she could almost pretend he was the Mr. Knightley she’d first imagined him to be.

  His expression darkened as he shook his head. “No.”

  But then his winning personality always showed up. Definitely not Mr. Knightley.

  “What do you mean, ‘no’? You have to talk to me. Nate said the town wants us to come up with a joint plan.”

  “Your part of the plan was adding the schoolhouse. The rest is my part.” He walked toward his back door. “I have to be somewhere.”

  He wasn’t getting away that easily. Her courage wouldn’t last long, and she needed to get these words out now. Unlatching the gate, she pushed through and followed him to his back door. “It’ll only take a minute.”

  “I don’t have a minute. Shiro.” He snapped twice, held the door for his dog, and disappeared into his house.

  Ugh!

  She followed him in and let the door slam behind her. “Please, Austin.”

  He stopped and looked back with one eyebrow raised.

  Maybe she should have thought twice before following a strange guy into his house for the second time. Her hands began to shake and she shoved them into her pockets. “Why won’t you talk to me?”

  “You want to talk? Fine. You put me in a no-win situation.” He strode through the kitchen, and she followed after him. Another cupboard had been removed since she’d been here.

  She maneuvered between two five-gallon buckets of debris and stopped at a makeshift dining room table. Austin dug through some scattered piles of papers, sending a few drifting to the floor.

  “The library move puts us so over budget that I’d never make a profit. They said that my profit would be the same, but I’m not sure what the committee was looking at. I don’t see how to make this work. So I get to look like the bad guy when I say no. And I’m not lying when I say I have to be somewhere in ten minutes.” He paused next to an open laptop, lifted a document, and held it out.

  Libby took the paper and skimmed it over. Wow, that was a lot of red at the bottom. “It may have been my idea, but it was their decision—”

  “It doesn’t matter.” Austin reached for his wallet and slid it in the back pocket of his dark jeans. “What does matter is that if we can’t get that number to the black, it can’t happen. And since your library put it in the red and you want to help so much, maybe you should fix it.”

  “Gracious of you.”

  “I aim to please.” He grabbed his coat off the chair and picked up his phone.

  “I’m pretty sure that isn’t true.” Libby looked over the numbers for a minute, but it was pointless. She didn’t know what half this stuff was, let alone what was worth cutting. “Can I see the plans as they were?”

  He sighed, then pointed to the wall behind her. “That’s a rough sketch.”

  Libby examined the fine pencil drawings. This was better but still not helpful enough. Austin stepped up beside her and pointed to the drawing. The musky scent of his aftershave surrounded her. “Here is the square with the gazebo in the center.”

  Libby pointed to a few marks around the gazebo. “What are these?”

  “The committee wants an open feel but a place for the community to gather as well. We already had something in three of the four corners of the square, so they think that adding your library is the answer to the fourth corner.”

  “But you disagree. Why don’t you like the idea of the library?”

  “I actually do like the idea. It’s more original than anything this town had envisioned.” He pulled another drawing from a shelf and unrolled it across the piles of paper. This one had the library incorporated into the square, only he’d placed it in the northwest corner instead of the northeast as she’d envisioned. It was perfect. “I think it’s exactly what the square needs. But everyone is underestimating all that’s involved.”

  He checked the time on his phone and picked up his keys. “It involves more than moving a building. We have to hire a contractor for the foundation, get it up to code, and modernize it. I can do some of the work, but we need someone who specializes in this type of work. That’s money. Money not in the budget. Not to mention set up a library in it. It isn’t me who disagrees, it’s all that red that disagrees.” He pointed again to the number on the paper in her hand.

  Libby leaned over and studied the drawing closer. “What are the other three corners?”

  He looked back at his drawing. “A playground in this corner. Then in this corner a fountain. That’s the number there.” He pointed to a large number in the budget.

  “The fountain is the first thing that needs to go.” She held up the budget. “Is this your only copy?”

  “No. I have it on my computer. I printed that out to show the committee.”

  Libby grabbed a pen and drew a black line through the number. “Not only are they a huge expense, but the maintenance is costly.”

  “That was a request by Mayor Jameson himself.”

  Libby waved away the concern. “I can take care of that.”

  “Just how are you going to do that?”

  “He’s a sentimental man, but he’s also a logical man. When he sees the research I’ll show him on town fountains, including maintenance cost and the percentage that fall into disrepair within twenty years, I believe he’ll agree to cut it.” She pulled a notebook from her bag and made a note. “What’s in the last corner?”

  “Clock tower.” He spun his keys in his hand.

  “I like that, but where is it on the budget?” She held out the paper and he pointed to the other hefty sum. Just what she was hoping. She drew another black line through that number. “Is this something that could be added later? Say, in a year or two?”

  “I suppose so.”

  “I think if we pitch it right, they’ll see the wisdom in waiting on that. If you cut those two, where does that put you on the budget?”

  Austin took back the paper and made a few notes on it, then scratched out a few sums. “Close.”

  Libby looked over the numbers again and pointed to another line. “What’s this cost?”

  “An assistant for me. This is a big project, and with the building move it just got bigger.”

  “Nate said he’d do that job.” Libby started to draw one more black line through that number.

  “No way.” Austin pulled the pen from her hand.

  “He has experience and is willing to volunteer his time.” She reached for the pen again, but he pulled it farther away.

  “Of course he would. But he can’t follow through with all the commitments he has. He volunteers as the basketball coach, with the fire department, on this committee, at the shelter. Am I missing anything else? He didn’t even show up at our dad’s yesterday like he promised.”

  Libby reached again and missed. “I understand you have differences, but you need to let those go for this. If you cut this position, will it balance?”

  Austin looked at the paper again. “Yes. But that doesn’t matter. The mayor will never agree to canc
el both the clock tower and his fountain.”

  “Okay, here’s the deal. I’ll work out a foolproof proposal for you to present—”

  “Why me?”

  “I get nervous in front of people. You draw it up. Just like this one but without the fountain or clock tower. Nate said the committee wanted us to work together to present a plan, and this is what we have. I’ll be there, but you have to do the presenting. I’d freeze and that wouldn’t help our case. If they agree, then you agree to use Nate.”

  “And if the committee rejects it?”

  “Then the ball is in their court. They asked us to work together to come up with a plan we both agree on.” She waved the budget in front of him. “Do we agree on this?”

  “Fine, we agree.” Austin checked his watch. “And now I’m late.”

  Libby followed him out his front door and down the steps as he marched to his truck. “I’ll drop the proposal by tomorrow so you can look it over before you present it.”

  “Fine.” He slid into the truck, started the engine, and rolled the window down, then checked his mirror. “I can tell you right now they aren’t going to give up that fountain.”

  “Let me worry about that.” Libby stepped back from the truck.

  Maybe the meeting with Austin hadn’t gone as smooth as she’d hoped, but she’d accomplished her goal. And just in time. Her courage from riding Petunia was just about out.

  “Petunia!”

  The word was echoed by the sound of twisting and scraping of metal. Austin slammed on the brakes as Libby dashed to the back of his truck. The purple bike was wedged up under the bumper, the center of the frame bent in half.

  “You killed Petunia!”

  “You laid your bike behind my truck?”

  “The kickstand was broken.”

  “A lot more is broken now.”

  Libby ran back to Luke’s before she had a breakdown right here in front of him. Petunia was dead.

  Austin grabbed the bag of gourmet coffee from the kitchen table along with his keys. He checked his reflection one more time in the cracked bathroom mirror. He ran his hand down his shirt and sighed. What was he doing? This wasn’t a date. He was simply stopping by to congratulate Libby on a job well done—and get the forms.