by Leddy Harper
“Then why didn’t you tell me that? You let me believe you’d invited a woman over after we agreed we wouldn’t do that. We talked about it in the kitchen that night…so why not tell me then?”
“I was pissed, Janelle. You invited your future hubby into my home while I was gone, and I assumed—just like you did—that more happened. I didn’t go out of my way to get back at you, but I also didn’t do anything to stop it. I’m sorry.”
“I can’t believe I almost broke my ankle to look like her,” she muttered under her breath.
I wanted to say something about that remark, to question her motivation, but I knew to leave it alone. It was none of my business why she wanted to emulate Ronnie, and any reason I could’ve come up with on my own only opened the door for hope. And that was something I couldn’t handle again. I’d lived with it on and off for a year or more after our night together in Vegas before I decided to get over it and move on. I couldn’t afford to have my insides twisted up like that again.
I was a numbers guy…I needed certainty, and questioning Janelle’s feelings toward me would never equal anything that concrete.
Knowing we needed to move on from the topic of Ronnie, I grabbed the bag of food and opened it to see what she’d picked up. We each took a container, and after I moved around the desk to sit in my office chair, we began to eat.
“The other night, you mentioned you wanted to be an event planner? I think I missed half that conversation, because I don’t understand what you meant by not being able to get hired anywhere.” I’d wanted to ask her additional questions when she’d brought the topic up, but it hadn’t felt like the right time. Not to mention, I’d spent most of my time around her pouting and acting like a wounded puppy.
“If I worked at one of the hotels in the area that offers that service, then I wouldn’t be able to open my own business in town due to the non-compete clause I’d have to sign. Not to mention, there are only two hotels around here that have space big enough to offer events.”
“Why can’t you just get hired by someone else?”
She swallowed her bite and then set down her fork, as if she needed all her energy to explain. “Event planning isn’t usually this big industry—unless you’re in New York City or a metropolitan capital like Los Angeles. In smaller areas, there isn’t much of a need. Aside from weddings, why would you need to hire someone? Think about it…a birthday party or graduation is something you can put together yourself. And most people do. Weddings are different because no one wants to be responsible for something going wrong, but nowadays, most of those are housed at hotels.”
“So what’s your plan? You want to start your own business? Even though you just admitted there’s no demand for it?” I thought about her explanation, and my stomach knotted up at the only plausible answer. “Or are you planning on moving to a big city?”
“Oh, no. I would never survive in a big city. I want to build a foundation here by simply offering what others don’t. Be unique and stand out, and make it possible for ordinary people to afford an event planner. Organizing any event is stressful, and I want to take the burden off a mother’s shoulders so she can enjoy her daughter’s sweet sixteen.”
“But I thought you just said those types of jobs aren’t available here.”
“I think the event opportunities are here. The people just don’t know they need me, or more importantly, afford me…yet. You don’t have to throw a big-budgeted occasion to hire an event planner.”
“So what are you waiting for? It seems to me like you have everything planned out.”
She licked her lips and turned her attention back to the container of pasta in front of her. “I don’t have the money, remember? I won’t get it until I marry Connor, and I can’t do that because I’m playing house with you.”
“Then let me help.”
Her bright-blue gaze snapped to mine. “No. I won’t take your money.”
“Consider it a loan. You’d have to get a loan from a bank anyway, right?”
“Yeah, but I’d much rather get it from an actual institution than you.”
I had no idea why, but hearing her say that wounded me. I didn’t want her to know the pain she caused, so I played it off. “Well, let me know if you change your mind or want to start looking at office spaces. I’d be happy to help you get things prepared so when you do get the money, you don’t have to wait.”
She offered me a genuine smile. “Thank you.”
We finished eating in silence, but once all the trash was thrown away, desperation ate at my core. I knew she’d be leaving soon and I didn’t want her to go. “We should do this more often. Not lunch—that’s not what I mean. But eating together. You know, at home, after I get off work. Why do we have to eat separately every night?”
Ever since our truce last weekend, she’d started to make me other things than just sandwiches. Monday night, she’d fixed hot dogs—although we didn’t have buns so I had to eat mine on sandwich bread. Tuesday, I got buttered noodles. Still, I didn’t complain. I was happy with what I got, and actually enjoyed every bite.
“You want us to eat dinner together?” The way she asked made it sound like I’d suggested we intimately eat off each other’s naked bodies.
“Yeah. You know, like two ordinary people. Friends. Roomies. Kinda like we just did, but in the evening, at home, at a table not a desk.” Finally, that got her to smile and relax. “We can try it tonight, and if it’s just too uncomfortable for you, then we can go back to eating at two completely different times, and not even sit with each other.”
To my utter surprise, when I walked inside after work, beat and exhausted from a rough day, I found Janelle in the kitchen with a fucking apron on. I bit my tongue to halt all the smartass remarks that were begging to surface. Instead, I stepped up behind her and watched as she proudly scooped macaroni and cheese onto two plates. I helped grab drinks and spoons and then met her at the table.
Conversation was stilted for a few minutes while we both adjusted to the company, but after a couple bites of the noodles coated in orange sauce that had originated from powder and meant to pass as cheese, I hummed and said, “This is amazing. Thank you.”
She smiled, and it may have just been me, but she seemed to relax and eat easier.
I felt good about this—but I refused to analyze why.
11
Janelle
Over the next few weeks, Holden and I had grown closer, and it definitely repaired the core of our friendship. However, we still hadn’t brought up anything major. Other than our initial conversation about why we’d gotten married to begin with, that night hadn’t come up again. There had been many times I’d wanted to question him, ask about what else occurred and the following day when he left. My mind refused to let go of the past, specifically what had taken place the rest of that summer, and basically, the last five years. But I never asked. Things seemed to be going well between us, and the last thing I wanted to do was drudge up the past, so rather than poke and prod, I went with the flow and tried to enjoy our time together as much as possible.
“Have you given any additional thought about the space we looked at yesterday?” he asked on the way to my parents’ house for our weekly family dinner. “It’s a really good location, so I worry it won’t be available for long. The realtor said something about it just being listed in the last week—I think that’s what he said.”
For the last three Saturdays, Holden had taken me to look at storefront options. To entertain him, I went along and pretended to show interest. After all, it wasn’t like I’d even be able to afford these places. But I kept my mouth closed and humored him with it because he’d told me it was nothing more than looking at options so I could have a plan for when I received my money. Needless to say, this was the first time he made any mention of doing more than “window shopping.”
“We’ve discussed this already, Holden. I can’t sign a lease yet.”
“Yeah, but if we find something perfect, we sho
uld go ahead and grab it, because it more than likely won’t be available later. These shops go quickly…trust me.”
I ignored how he spoke of this as if it were a joint venture. “It doesn’t matter how perfect it is, because I can’t afford it right now. You keep finding these places smack dab in the heart of town. In order to find something within my budget, I’ll have to get something on the outskirts, probably shoved back in the wooded area off Herron Street.” I shuttered and added, “Who knows how many bodies are out there in those woods. Everyone knows they’re haunted, and that won’t be much of a selling point to welcome people in the front door.”
“Exactly, which is why you should pick one of the ones we’ve looked at. Stop worrying about the money. I can help, and before you freak out, let me explain. You already know you’re getting that money from the show, right? So you should let me help you get what you want and deserve now, and then you can just pay me back when you get the cash.”
Moments like these, when he made comments about the money I’d get for marrying Connor, left me extremely confused. There were days where we got along so well, even I could’ve been convinced we were a real couple and had a strong chance of ending up together. I could’ve allowed myself to believe he was in love with me, always had been, and his motive from the very beginning was to make me feel the same. Yet it never failed, as soon as I began to believe we were both on the same page, he’d go and mention Connor—without actually using his name—or nonchalantly bring up how much time we had left before he signed the papers. I couldn’t understand why those words would leave me so dejected.
“I don’t know for sure that I’ll be awarded that money. What if Connor randomly decides he doesn’t want to do it anymore, or there’s some other twist in the rules? That’s too much to risk. I’d rather just wait to make a move until I have the check in my hand. As of right now, this is just a pipe dream. It’s just something I want to start without any clue at all that I can pull it off.”
Surprising me, he reached over the console and took my hand, lacing our fingers together. “It’s not a pipe dream, Jelly.” He’d started taking on the nickname more often, except now he used it as an endearment and without the teasing implied. It puzzled me, but for whatever reason, I kind of liked it when he used it affectionately. “Look at what Matt and I did. We graduated from college, got our CPA licenses, and without ever working for another firm or even owning a business, we opened Brewer and York. Trust me, I know all about the pressures of starting your own dream—from the ground up—and the money you have to borrow and pay back.” He squeezed my hand once. “I get it. And that’s why I want to do what I can to help. We can start small. That place we looked at yesterday would be perfect. It’s not too big, but at the same time, you won’t outgrow it within a year, either.”
“I know…but the price. And I have to sign a two-year contract. What if I manage to start it up and then I fail? Then I’m stuck with a lease I can’t afford for two years.”
“I really don’t think you have anything to worry about.”
“You don’t know this, because you’ve never seen me work. How could you possibly have any faith in me to plan events, when you’ve never seen me put one together?”
“You’re incredibly organized, and I think that illustrates quite a bit. Not to mention, when you go to the grocery store, you always find the best deals. Like when we went to get stuff for your bathroom, you made sure everything was practical—not just for now, but for after you leave, too. It’s those little things that make me know you’ll succeed and be amazing.” The entire time he spoke, he kept his attention to the road ahead of him and refused to look my way. “Not to mention, I’ve heard you talk about your selling points and how you want to run the business. You’ve told me how you plan to offer services others don’t. I believe in you, Janelle.”
“Regardless, I would hate it if I couldn’t repay you. It’s not like I plan to stiff a bank on a loan, but I’d feel better doing that than taking your money and having to alter our agreement. You mean too much to me to do that.”
When we pulled into the driveway and parked behind Matt’s Jeep, I glanced around and noticed we were the only two cars here. I knew Nikki and Shane had taken their three girls on vacation to Disney before the start of school in a couple of weeks, but I had no idea where the others were.
“I wonder where Stacey and Rachel are.” It was more of an outspoken thought to myself than anything; I didn’t expect Holden to have the answers.
He met me around the front of the car on the way toward the front door and said, “Oh, they aren’t coming. Tony isn’t feeling well, so Stacey decided her and the kids would stay home with him, and Rachel’s in-laws are in town. They’re leaving tomorrow, so Rachel and Steve will be back next weekend for Labor Day.”
My mouth hung open while I stared at him and blinked for added dramatic effect. “How do you know all this about my family? I was here last weekend, same as you, but I don’t recall any discussion about in-laws, and how in the world do you know about Tony being sick?”
Holden grew quiet while he continued to the front porch. “Matt told me about Tony, and you must’ve missed the conversation last weekend about Steve’s parents, because it was talked about exhaustively. Your mom even commented about taking suggestions from others for the weekly family meal since Rachel’s usually the one who picks for her.”
“Oh…I guess I must not have been in the room.”
We made it to the door, but right before opening it, Holden turned to me with a straight face and intense gaze. “It was talked about at the table, during dinner.”
I was speechless, confused as to how I could’ve missed an entire conversation happening around me.
Then his lips parted to show off his cheesy smile, the one that made it obvious how funny he thought he was. “You had taken the kids to the bathroom to wash up before supper. It didn’t occur to me to say anything to you about it later because I didn’t think it was that big of a deal.”
“You’re an asshole.” I shoved at him and made him open the front door so we could walk inside. “You let me believe I’d blocked out an entire conversation.”
Christine pulled herself from the couch and greeted us both with hugs before dragging me into the kitchen to help Mom with dinner. Apparently, with only half her daughters here, Mom couldn’t be alone while cooking and needed our assistance. At least, that’s what Christine mumbled under her breath on our way to the kitchen.
“Anything new going on with you and Holden?” she asked after we took our seats on the barstools in front of the sink.
I quickly glanced at my mom, hoping she hadn’t heard, and then stared at Christine, offering her a death glare for bringing it up in front of my mother. Christine then waved me off just as Mom said, “You think I haven’t been just as interested? There’s a reason she brought it up in front of me. Poor girl is probably tired of hearing me ask if she knows anything.”
“Really, Ma? You’re talking about me when I’m not around?”
“No.” She glanced up and gave me a very serious expression. “I’ve simply called Christine a few times to ask if she’s heard anything about a possible budding relationship between you two. It’s not like I’m talking behind your back. I’m purely seeking information about my youngest child.” And just like that, she went back to layering the lasagna in the pan.
There were so many things I wanted to point out, if not question, but decided against fighting a battle I couldn’t win. With my arms folded in front of me, I settled in to explain—apparently, to both of them. “We’re not going to get together, so you both might as well stop waiting for the impossible to happen. And where did your sudden interest come from, Christine?”
“I don’t know. I love you both and think you’re so good together.”
“Yeah, because we’re friends. That’s all we’ve ever been and that’s the end of it. It’d be too weird if we were more than that. He’s like a brother, for heaven’s sa
ke.”
“No offense, but I don’t see you look at Matty like that, Jelly.” Christine smirked.
I shot her a thankless glare.
“Your father is my best friend,” Mom added in her singsong voice. She closed the oven door and leaned against the counter with her hip, pointing her motherly stare my way.
“And Matty’s mine.” Christine propped her chin on her fist and offered me a smug grin. “I think that’s the whole point. Right? You marry your best friend. So your argument isn’t very valid.”
“Well, at the very least, you should love the person you marry, and more than the way you love a friend. Unfortunately, we don’t feel that way about each other. He’s a great guy, and I love him the same way I love you,” I said to Christine. “But that’s about it. And I’m rather confident he’d agree with me.”
“Agree with what?” Holden’s deep voice filled the room from behind me.
My breathing stalled. Quit. Mid inhale, it just gave up and decided to go on strike. I craned my neck to peer over my shoulder and caught the sight of his devious smirk—the epitome of the cat that ate the canary. Of all his expressions, it had always been on the top of my favorites. But it was special, because he didn’t hand that one out often, and only those close to him got to witness it.
His soft eyes shone, the mossy green turning more steel, while the bursts of brown took over and lit up like gold beneath the sun’s rays. His high cheekbones heated with the tiniest dusting of blush, and that mouth…curved to one side, the top quirked higher to add the illusion of a sneer entwined with his grin. However, no matter how many times I’d seen it before, or how it made me feel, this one was different.
He directed it right at me.
And only me.
Normally, everyone in the room would’ve been rewarded with it, but not this time. While he approached the breakfast bar where I sat perched next to Christine, his fiery gaze and panty-melting grin practically hypnotized me. And as if I were in a movie, everything around me faded into nothingness as he drew closer, almost cautiously.