by Danes, Ellie
Chapter Twelve
Aspen
The next day, I slipped out of the house early once more, armed with a full list of places to visit. I wanted to take my time and do a little of my own sightseeing outside of my little map of places where Grandma and Grandpa had gone--and on top of that, there was something in me that wanted to avoid the warm, cozy feeling I had when Gage and I were together.
I set out after a cup of coffee, reasoning that I could grab something from one of the vendors on the street or from a restaurant along my way--just as I would have if I’d been staying in a hotel. I went to Mile Marker 0 and began working my way toward the Key West Aquarium and then the Shipwreck Museum. I thought about how much Grandma would have loved to see both, especially the re-creation of 1856 Key West building and artifacts, and the kitschy, campy acting that went along with it.
I debated going on to Ripley’s Believe it or Not; I wanted to see it, but I also thought it was the kind of thing that I would want to visit with someone else to; if only to be able to make comments and observations. I took out my phone and started looking over my list of places to travel to, comparing it to the map’s notes of good places for lunch.
I’d almost decided to head in the direction of the oldest house in Key West when my phone buzzed in my hand and the screen flashed a notification that Catherine was calling. I hadn’t spoken to her since I’d gone to Gage’s house. “Hey, Cat--what’s up?”
For just a few seconds a series of possibilities flashed through my head—that something had happened to the stuff I’d asked her to hold onto for me, or that something had happened at the house that would mean that it couldn’t be sold.
“Hey, I’m so glad I got you,” she said. “You’re still in Key West, right?”
“Well yeah, I would have told you if I had moved on--besides, I’ve only been here a few days,” I pointed out.
“Dammit,” Catherine said. “Okay, so don’t freak out, but Brad is on his way to you, the little fucker.”
The phone almost slipped out of my hands.
“What do you mean, Brad is on his way to me?” I ducked into the shade under a tree and tried to breathe.
“He heard about you going to Key West--I don’t know who told him, because it definitely wasn’t me--and decided to follow you there,” Catherine explained.
“What the hell does he think this is going to accomplish?” I closed my eyes and took another deep breath.
“I guess he thinks he’s going to win you back or something,” Catherine said.
I groaned. “How the hell did he get that idea? I don’t want to see him--I don’t even want to remember he exists,” I said, scrubbing at my face with my free hand. I sighed. “Let me call you back. If I can catch him and tell him not to come down here, I need to do that.”
“Good luck,” she said, not sounding too hopeful.
I hung up with her and found Brad’s number in my phone.
It rang once, twice, three times. “Come on, Brad,” I muttered. “Come on and answer your stupid phone.”
It rang four times, five. I hung up, counted to sixty to make sure he didn’t call me back, and dialed the number again. It rolled over directly to voicemail.
“Brad,” I said, trying to keep my voice composed. “I don’t know if you shut off your phone so you wouldn’t have to talk to me, or if you did it because you’re on a plane and it’s taking off...but do not try and see me. I am not interested. Not even a little bit.”
I hung up and tried to think.
Key West wasn’t a big island, but Brad couldn’t have any way of knowing where I was staying. I wasn’t at a hotel, he couldn’t really ask around about me--no one knew me. With any luck, he would spend a day or two asking people if they knew where I was, and no one would tell him, and then he’d go back home without bothering me.
I tried to shake off the dread I felt and decided to call Catherine back. She picked up after two rings. “Did you get him?”
“No--he shut off his phone,” I replied, sighing.
“Well, what are the odds he’ll be able to find you, anyway? Nobody around here knows where you’re staying.”
“I mean, one or two people might have known the name of the hotel,” I pointed out. “But I’m not actually staying at that hotel, so it’s fine.”
“You’re not? What happened?” Catherine sounded almost shocked. “That was the one your Grandma had stayed at, right?”
“Yeah, and it’s a piece of shit now. It hasn’t been updated since...I don’t know, probably when she stayed there,” I said with a laugh. “And it definitely looks, feels, sounds and smells like it hasn’t been updated since then. And not in a good way.”
“Ick,” Catherine said. “So where are you staying?”
I smiled in spite of myself.
“You won’t believe this, but a guy rescued me,” I told her. I explained about Gage showing up and making the owner give me the deposit back and then offering to let me stay at his place.
“Girl, if you don’t know that he wants to have sex with you…”
“I don’t think he does, actually,” I said, interrupting her. “I mean--obviously I know that most guys aren’t just looking to help someone out.”
“Oh, come on, Aspen,” Catherine said. “You can’t be that naive. No guy does nice things for a pretty woman just to be nice.”
“You can’t be that cynical,” I countered.
“He’s taking you out to dinner and making you expensive food,” Catherine pointed out. “That’s someone who’s interested in you.”
“I paid for drinks, and I bought stuff for dinner last night,” I said. “Besides, if he really did want to get with me, he wouldn’t have put me in the guest room on the second floor of the house while he stays on the ground floor.”
“Maybe he thinks one night you’ll get lonely and come downstairs,” Catherine suggested.
“Well I don’t see it,” I insisted. “I just see a guy being nice to me.”
“Well, don’t be surprised when he wants something,” Catherine said. “What are you going to do about the Brad situation?”
“I’m going to do my best to avoid him, I guess,” I said. “I should be able to keep from seeing him, especially if I’m not going to the most obvious tourist places after today.”
“But won’t he know better than to check those places?” Catherine sounded doubtful.
“You know, considering that he was cheating on me with someone from my own office, I don’t think ‘wouldn’t he know better’ is true of almost anything Brad could do,” I said wryly. “If he knew better, he wouldn’t come here in the first place. I was pretty freaking clear on the topic of never wanting to see him again.”
“Yeah, but that’s just typical guy-stupid,” Catherine countered. “He thinks if he shows up on the scene and sweeps you off your feet, he can win you over again.”
“It’s like he doesn’t learn anything!” I could feel myself getting angry all over again. “I mean, he cheated on me. Obviously, he didn’t value me all that much when he had me.”
“Yeah, but you left him, not the other way around,” Catherine said. “He has pride to take care of.”
I grumbled something under my breath, more to myself than to my friend.
“Well I will still avoid him and with any luck after he can’t find me for the next couple of days, he’ll figure I moved on or something, and go back home,” I said hopefully.
“Besides, now you have a big, rich boyfriend to shoo him off,” Catherine joked.
I rolled my eyes. “I don’t have a big, rich boyfriend.”
“You said he lives in Truman Annex,” Catherine said. “There is no one living in that area who isn’t rich. You have to have a lot of money to have a house there at all.”
“Well maybe he bought it back before it was so expensive,” I suggested.
“Nah, it was never not expensive to live there,” Catherine insisted. “I mean--it’s where a president stayed. That’s prim
e real estate.”
“So, he’s rich,” I said dismissively. “He isn’t my boyfriend.”
“I think you should probably get clear on the fact that he probably wants to be your boyfriend,” Catherine said. “I mean, he swoops in and saves the day, invites you to stay with him, does all these nice things...besides, you’re super-hot and a sweetheart. What guy wouldn’t want to get with you?”
“Brad, apparently,” I muttered. “Look--I’m going to get some more sightseeing in while Brad is on his way here, so I can avoid the popular spots after he arrives.”
“Sounds like a decent plan,” Catherine admitted. “And maybe you can find the spot where your Grandma wanted her ashes scattered before he even arrives, and then...I guess figure out somewhere else to go. Just don’t tell anyone but me where you’ll be.”
“Yeah, maybe,” I said, but I wasn’t entirely sure of that plan--it was already proving more difficult than I’d thought it would to track down some of the places Grandma had written about. But surely I would be able to find the spot where she and Grandpa had met; I had to believe I could. She had been able to get to it not that long ago--it should still, hopefully, be there.
I finished up my call with Catherine and went back to walking, checking my map and my list of places from Grandma’s journals. I tried to put the issue of my ex-boyfriend out of my mind, but everywhere I went, I found myself looking around, checking to see if there were any familiar faces in any of the crowds. I could feel my skin tingling with the apprehension that I would hear Brad’s voice, calling my name.
I wasn’t scared of him--that wasn’t the issue. I just didn’t want to deal with the drama of having him here. He’d never physically hurt or threatened me in any way, but I knew that if he’d gotten to the point of taking a flight down to Key West to come after me, he was going to be absolutely insufferable, and I didn’t want my trip tainted by dealing with him. I went to the Little White House--where Truman had stayed while in Key West--and thought about Grandma visiting the spot when she’d been even younger than I was. I pushed Brad out of my mind, telling myself that he would probably give up easily and that I wouldn’t even have to think about him for another few hours. I immersed myself in history. I shouldn’t let my jerk of an ex ruin my good time.
I couldn’t help but think of what Catherine had said about Gage, though. I hadn’t thought he was really interested in me--not the way she kept insisting on--but I had to admit she had a point. How many guys had I met in my life who were truly altruistic? How many guys had been nice to me with the expectation of getting something in return--namely, affection or sex from me? But it just didn’t seem to wash with how Gage had treated me. He clearly was a genuinely good person. I wasn’t going to worry about it.
Chapter Thirteen
Gage
It was just as well that Aspen had told me that she planned to get an early start on her daily sightseeing, since I had to meet with my lawyer before lunch to discuss more details about my upcoming real estate purchase. Scott had sent me an email that morning saying there were some more details to attend to, some paperwork I had to look over. No surprises there; it always seemed to be the case.
I left Roscoe in the house with a promise that I would take him on a walk as soon as I got home, and drove across the island to Scott’s office. I half-hoped that I would spot Aspen on my way, but I told myself I was glad that I hadn’t, since seeing her would be a distraction.
Scott, my lawyer, stood just outside his office, escorting another client out.
“How’s it going?” I asked him.
“Another day in paradise, as they say,” he said, stepping forward to shake my hand and lead me into his office.
“So, what’s going on with this paperwork mess?” I asked.
Scott shrugged, walking past me to seat himself at his desk. “More of the same as before, at the end of the day. I’d recommend you read over them just as a matter of course, but it’s fairly dry material.”
I settled into the chair I’d taken and read over a file that Scott handed me. It was, as he’d said, more of the same kind of stuff I’d signed before.
“I guess this is what I get for buying up something of a landmark,” I muttered, more to myself than to Scott.
“I told you when you floated the idea to me that it was going to be a pain in the ass from a paperwork perspective,” he pointed out.
“Worth it, though, to keep something like this intact,” I said. And for me, it was. The property I was buying, like so many things in Key West, was historic. That made it more complicated to buy, but no one on the state level was really against private owners holding onto it. All I had had to do during the preparatory phase was tell the Historic Society that I wasn’t going to make any drastic changes, or clear-cut it, or anything like that. Really, my interest was primarily in preserving it, and since I was buying it through a foundation that I owned, it would give me a tax write-off at the end of the year, assuming I was able to complete the sale.
“Word on the street is there’s a new woman in your life,” Scott said, once we’d gone over the details of the business.
“That’s not anything,” I said dismissively. “I met a woman on the plane down from my last trip, a few days ago, and when she ran into trouble--Diane trying to bilk her, you know--I offered to let her stay with me instead.”
“Carla says she’s cute,” Scott countered.
“Yeah, she’s a cute girl,” I admitted. “But she’s here on some kind of mission to scatter her grandmother’s ashes. Fairly focused on it. And besides, I haven’t been interested in dating in a long time.”
“You have to get back in the pool at some point,” Scott said. “Why not now? Man is not meant to live alone, Gage.”
“I don’t live alone,” I pointed out. “I have Roscoe.”
“Roscoe certainly provides plenty of cuddles at night, I’m sure,” he said. “But I really hope you’re not doing everything with a dog that you would with a woman.”
“Just because you’re a horn-dog who can’t go a week without sex doesn’t mean we’re all like that, Scotty,” I said.
Scott checked the time on the big clock in his office.
“I think you should go for it, for the record,” he said. “But I’ll wait until a social visit to badger you about the need for female companionship. I’ve got someone else coming in fifteen minutes, and what he wants is just…” He shook his head. “I’ll have you over for drinks next week?”
“I’ll throw it on the calendar,” I told him, and shook his hand again before leaving. I didn’t have anything else to do for the day--I’d taken care of the business for the week before heading over to Scott’s office--so I decided I would make good on my promise to the dog and take him for a walk, wandering around until maybe I ran into Aspen.
I drove back to my place and managed to get Roscoe calm enough for me to put his leash and collar on him, and headed out in the direction I thought I’d be most likely to find Aspen in.
I thought about what Scott had said and realized that for him to hear from Carla about my houseguest, she would have had to have heard from someone else; the only time she had seen both me and Aspen, it had been before she had come to stay at my place. I thought I should probably drop a word to Aspen; I didn’t know how she would feel about being a subject of discussion in the community, even if it was based on a misunderstanding. She wasn’t interested in me at all, and I wasn’t on the market, anyway.
I walked toward Mallory Square, one of my usual paths, and waved to a few people who called out hellos to me. I was lost in my thoughts until I heard someone call my name. I looked around and spotted Diane, taking a lunch break apparently, and talking to some guy I’d never seen before.
“Gage! Just the man I need,” Diane called at me.
I rolled my eyes with my head turned slightly away so she wouldn’t see. It was just going to cause a scene if I didn’t see what she wanted, so I walked over to her with Roscoe at heel.
&
nbsp; “What’s up, Diane?” I gave Roscoe the gesture to sit, and he did, looking curiously at the other two humans I’d walked up to.
“This is Brad,” Diane said. “Someone told him his fiancée is staying with me at my hotel--imagine my surprise when I found out it was the young woman you intervened for the other day.”
I glanced at the guy. He was maybe a couple of inches shorter than me, with blond hair and brown eyes, about medium build. He looked a bit pale to be standing out in the sun, and I didn’t think he was the type to put sunscreen on.
“His fiancée, huh?” I asked.
Diane nodded. “Apparently she came down for some kind of last rites for her grandmother, and he wanted to surprise her,” Diane said, beaming. “Of course, I had to tell him that Aspen isn’t staying with me anymore, but I remembered that you helped her out, so I thought you could tell him where she’s staying now? I figured if anyone knew, it would be you.”
I looked at the guy again, and something clicked in my head. What Aspen had said about her ex, about him cheating on her.
Brad looked hopeful. I glanced at Diane again; obviously the rumor mill hadn’t completed its work, or she would know that Aspen was staying with me. Then again, Diane was one of the last people about half the island wanted to talk to about most things, so it wasn’t that shocking that she didn’t know.
“Yeah, I actually do know where she’s staying,” I said. “Thanks, Diane.”
She took the clue and left, telling Brad he was in good hands.
“I’m so relieved,” Brad told me. “When Diane said she wasn’t sure where Aspen was, I thought I was going to have to spend all day tracking her down to surprise her.”
I raised an eyebrow.
“You know, one would think that if your fiancée had changed hotels, she would have told you,” I mused. I wasn’t sure whether or not to reveal to this man that Aspen was staying with me; my instinct was to tell him nothing at all--and I felt a little spurt of anger, something like defensiveness toward him. What was he doing in Key West, anyway? Hadn’t Aspen left him months ago?