by Luna Starr
“Hey, Bug,” Sharon said—shortening the nickname she’d given me. She was standing at the counter, waiting on a cheeseburger.
I said hello as I grabbed an apron from the hook just inside the kitchen. Then, I slid my order pad into the front pocket and walked onto the floor to start my shift. We were jam-packed for the rest of the night and I barely got a chance to catch my breath. I’d say one thing about the café, it was baptism by fire. I’d either make it or die trying. Sharon didn’t have time to help me but I managed to keep my mistakes to a minimum. Everyone was in a good mood and the beer and tips were flying.
Things finally settled after an hour or so and I was able to excuse myself to the restroom for the first time that evening, then through the backroom for a fifteen-minute breather. When I walked back in, there were only one or two customers left and I caught a glimpse of Tom’s truck as he pulled into the parking lot. I waved at him and motioned for him to come inside so we could have a piece of pie before we went home. Chocolate mousse pie was Sharon’s specialty and in high demand so I’d had to tuck two pieces beneath the counter during the rush. I’d almost thought Sharon wasn’t going to let me, but she just winked and teased me about spoiling my cowboy.
The front door bell chimed as someone walked in. I glanced over to see Sharon seating the guy in my section. He’d be my last customer and then I’d be off for the night. I didn’t get a good look at him—just saw him from behind, but there was something familiar about him. The way he walked—or should I say strutted—to the booth. His stride was purposeful and confident.
He turned around to face me and once I saw his face, the past collided with my present and my stomach sank.
It couldn’t be.
I looked him over again and tried to figure out if my mind was playing tricks on me. Was it possible?
He was tall, broad with salt and pepper hair and dark brown eyes, dressed in slacks and a button down just like…
But it wasn’t possible! I was thousands of miles from Connecticut!
The man turned around again so that his back was facing me. As I approached the booth, the front door opened and Tom came in. I turned to look at him and he took off his hat and smiled that irresistible smile of his which usually sent butterflies streaming through my stomach. This time, though, there weren’t any butterflies because my stomach was currently in knots.
Tom seated himself in the booth in front of the stranger whose back was still facing me.
“Good even...” I started as I turned and faced the booth. The words didn’t completely make it out of my mouth.
“Good evening, Summer. I’d heard I might be able to find you here.”
It really was him. My throat constricted and I forced myself to swallow and play it cool. “Bill. What, uh, what brings you here?” I didn’t know what to say to the man whom my father had done business with for over a decade. A man who was twenty years older than me and yet that had never stopped him from coming onto me every chance he had.
“You are what brings me here,” he answered in that deep voice as he scanned me from head to toe, his gaze settling on my bust.
“I don’t understand.” I felt like I was going to throw up.
“Let’s discuss it over drinks, shall we?” he asked but then seemed to notice my uniform. “Or do you work in this… establishment?” he finished, distaste written all over his face.
“I work here,” I answered with a frown. “And I’m just about to get off.”
“Well, let’s make this quick then,” he responded as he stood up and took a few steps toward me so as to ensure we didn’t have any eavesdroppers. “Your father owes me a lot of money.”
“My father is dead, as you know, Bill.”
He smiled at me curtly. “Yes, I’m well aware.”
“So why are you bothering me with this information?” I felt like I wanted to throw up. Not only did I feel like I wanted to throw up, but there was also red hot anger building deep inside of me. How dare he bring the stain of my past here, somewhere I’d gone to escape!
I could feel Tom’s eyes on me. I steadied myself and said in as even a voice as I could muster.
“I’m bothering you with this information in order to get back the money he stole from me.”
“I can’t help you with that.”
“I think you can.”
Tom slid out of his booth and came toward us. I was suddenly scared to death that he would overhear something he shouldn’t.
“No. I can’t. I have nothing to my name,” I whispered, my jaw and lips tight.
“And whatever my father did, that was on him. I had nothing to do with it.” I had nothing, less than nothing! Daddy Dearest hadn’t left me a dime to my name. I’d lost everything and this bastard had the gall to come here and demand I make good on my father’s mistakes? I crossed my arms over my stomach.
“Is this man bothering you, Summer?” Tom asked as he frowned at Bill who stood eye level with him.
I looked down at my cheap tennis shoes and shook my head. I didn’t know what to do.
“This doesn’t concern you, whoever you are,” Bill said.
“If it concerns Summer, it concerns me,” Tom answered, his eyes narrow.
“Okay, then if you must know,” Bill started as he cleared his throat. “Miss Sellers’ father owes me money and seeing as how he’s dead and can’t answer for it, she can.”
“No, I can’t,” I insisted.
Bill turned his narrowed gaze on me. “Do you or do you not have a horse that’s worth a pretty penny? A quarter of what your father owed me, to be exact.”
My body completely tensed. He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t take Aria away from me. Not after I’d lost everything else. “Y-You can’t have my horse. Aria’s mine.”
Tom placed a hand on my shoulder as he faced Bill. “You get the hell out of here; you’re not welcome here.”
Bill’s neck and face turned bright red as he glared at me. “Your father owed me money and the way I see it, that responsibility is passed down to you,” he announced. “And because I’m a good man, I’m willing to negotiate taking whatever you have that’s still worth something.”
“I don’t think you heard me right,” Tom said, stepping in front of me. “Get the fuck out of here. If I see or hear you bothering her again, I won’t be so polite.”
Bill gave Tom the once over and started for the door. Just as he was about to leave, he turned around and said, “Good thing your old man killed himself. At this rate, if he were alive, he’d probably wind up murdered, if not by me— by someone else.”
I couldn’t bring myself to look at Tom. I felt the tears as they exploded from my eyes and I ran to the bathroom. Once I was inside, I just made it into the stall before I vomited.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Summer
“Summer.” Tom knocked on the bathroom door again and I searched fruitlessly for a window I could use as an escape. “Please let me in.”
The doorknob rattled but I made no motion to get up from where I was sitting on the closed toilet with my head in my hands.
“I’m not going to go away until you open the door,” he insisted. “I’m just going to continue standing here, telling you to open it.” His voice was a little more stern now.
And the truth was that I was done crying and there was nothing left in my stomach to throw up. I stood up, walked over to the door and unlocked it. Then I turned around, headed back to the toilet and sat down again.
Tom opened the door and then closed it behind him. He didn’t say anything but covered the distance that separated us before crouching down in front of me and covering my knees with his hands.
I lifted my face and stared into those blue eyes that showed nothing but caring and concern. I couldn’t believe he even wanted to be anywhere near me, now knowing what he did about me—about my past, about what my father had done and how he’d swindled people out of money, including Bill.
“Let me take you home.”
I nodded and he helped me stand. I felt completely drained—exhausted. Once we were back inside the restaurant, I noticed the lights were out and there was an envelope next to my purse on the counter with my name on it. Tom palmed it and handed it to me.
“Where’s Sharon?” I asked in a mouse voice.
Tom wrapped his arm around my back. “I told Sharon we’d lock up. The envelope must be your share of tonight’s tips.”
I breathed a sigh of relief that there was no one else here to witness my utter hopelessness. It was bad enough that Tom had to be here—that I couldn’t be alone. But at least he was the only one.
I opened the envelope and noticed a wad of bills. Which made no sense because we each kept our own tips. And mine were in my apron pocket. We never split any of them out. I was embarrassed and guilty that Sharon had obviously given me her tips, like I was some kind of charity case. Well, I wasn’t a charity case and I’d give them right back.
“That money isn’t mine,” I said as returned the envelope to the counter.
“It has your name on it,” Tom answered as he reached for the envelope again, but seeing my cross expression, he put it inside of his pocket rather than handing it to me.
“I don’t need handouts,” I said with conviction. “And this isn’t Sharon’s problem. It’s mine.”
“While that might be true,” Tom started. “She obviously cares about you and she left the envelope as a gift. And you know what they say about gifts?” I faced him because I didn’t know what they said about gifts. “That it’s rude not to accept them,” he answered with that boyish smile of his.
I sighed heavily as I nodded and watched him open the door for me. I was humbled by what Sharon had done for me. These people were more my family than anyone I was related to and that feeling stung me as much as it should have been heartwarming.
Tom started the truck and drove into the darkness as my mind reeled with thoughts of Bill. How in the hell had he managed to find me out here? I had no clue and decided not to bother myself with questions that I couldn’t answer. Instead, I turned to face Tom, who was already looking over at me.
“You know what they say about watching the road?” I started, my voice raw although I was aiming for funny.
“No, what?”
“That you should watch it so you don’t run off it,” I answered as I took a deep breath. He chuckled and then reached over, grabbing my arm as he pulled me into him. I snuggled closer to him and he tightened his arm around me. “Thank you for what you did back there.”
“Of course,” he answered. “No one talks to you like that with me around.”
I rested my cheek against his chest as I thought about what he’d just said. And suddenly I wanted the title. I wanted to know that he was mine and I was his. I wanted to know that I could always rely on him. That he was there for me and always would be. Of course, I realized this was all insecurity born from what had just happened in the last hour but I couldn’t say I cared. I just needed someone at the moment. No… I just needed Tom.
“Want to talk about it?”
I stared at the headlights carving a tunnel of light against the otherwise pitch black of the night. I didn’t feel like I could talk, like I could say another word but before I knew it, my mouth was open and words were dropping off my tongue like rain water spewing out of a broken gutter.
“I grew up rich. Sickeningly rich. I had maids and butlers and vacation homes. Our barn was bigger than Brady’s house. You name it, I had it. And I thought I was happy, but I was totally oblivious to where all that stuff came from. Until it was gone.” I took a deep breath as I remembered and the memories stung me. “My father was the CEO of an investment firm that made a whole lot of his buddies—like Bill—incredibly wealthy. Dad was a workaholic and I barely ever saw him, but we were close and I thought we had a good relationship. At least, until everything went to shit. Then I realized that he hadn’t actually ever told me anything even close to the truth. He kept me happy and in the dark. Whenever I asked questions about work or something I saw on the news, he bought me something to change the subject or to keep me quiet.” I laughed without joy as I remembered it all. “And I guess it worked.”
Tom kissed my temple and pulled into the playground parking lot where we’d sat by the lake and made love. He made no move to get out, so I kept talking.
“Sadly, even with all his lies, I was still closer to him than I ever was to my mother. The only thing that was important to her was money. That was probably the reason why my father drove himself to do what he did.” I closed my eyes against the instant sting as I remembered what my father had chosen to do to himself. “Even though I have no idea why, my father loved my mother. But she only loved herself.”
As I spoke, I worried that after Tom knew everything, he’d realize how stained and tarnished I was. I was scared that despite the fondness he’d had for me, he would turn tail and run. As if reading my mind, he tightened his hold around me and when I looked up at him, he was smiling back at me. I sighed heavily and snuggled closer to him. “Unbeknownst to both Mom and me, Daddy was under investigation for financial fraud.” My voice cracked. “He blew all our cash—I don’t even know what he bought, but I think it was people and secrets. He knew he was headed for jail.”
The tears I thought I’d already purged started to burn the backs of my eyes again and before long, they were sailing down my cheeks and splashing onto my neck. “He hadn’t wanted to face a trial or jail, so he...” I took a breath. It wasn’t my fault. I’d spent enough weeks in therapy to know that. He’d made his choice. I hadn’t made it for him. “He killed himself.”
The image of his gray face swam before me and I squeezed my eyes shut. Tom’s arms tightened around me and he held me even closer. “My mother was already in Manhattan with my dickhead ex-boyfriend, so I think she was just glad to be rid of the scandal surrounding my dad. She was probably glad to be rid of me too.”
“Then you found your father?” Tom asked.
I nodded. “Yes. Soon after that, everything came raining down on me. A week later, our house was foreclosed on as well as all of our cars, everything.” I laughed again, an ugly sound that made me angrier than I already was. “He did leave me a note telling me he was sorry.” I stared out the window. What a coward my father had been. “I didn’t want to sell Aria, so I bought my truck and trailer. Brady’s cousin, Liza, was my trainer and she was the one who orchestrated my move out here.”
Tom didn’t say a word, just pulled me to him and held me. The tears continued to fall down my face as I stared at the moonlight as it sent a shimmering luminescence across the water. Tom killed the engine and we sat there staring out the window, listening to the night.
He pressed his lips to my ear. “I’m sorry.”
I shrugged. “For what? You didn’t do anything.”
“I’m sorry that you had to go through everything that you did. That you’re going through it even now. No one deserves that… least of all you.”
I leaned back in the seat, my eyes closed and I took a deep breath. “We all have our crosses to bear,” I answered, feeling sick to my stomach again. “I’m just sorry you heard it the way you did. I would have told you, but I… it was just… fuck! Fuck him!” I balled my fists and fought the tears, but they insisted on coming anyway. I threw the door open and scrambled out of the truck, suddenly needing to catch my breath in the fresh night air.
Tom followed, but at a distance. He eased up behind me and curled his fingers around my shoulders. I leaned into him, needing his strength, his solidity. “It’s going to be okay, Summer.”
Somewhere inside me, I wanted to believe he was right. But I didn’t know how it was possible.
“You’re here now, as far from Connecticut as you could be,” he continued. “And you can start over, you can put everything behind you.”
“That’s what I thought too,” I started. “And yet, Bill showed up right out of the blue, which shows that I can’t outrun
my past.”
“You owe him nothing,” Tom insisted. “Whatever your father did was on him. You didn’t know about it and it’s not your responsibility to right his wrongs. That bastard just showed up here thinking he could throw his weight around and get you to do whatever he asked because he’s counting on your fear. He wants you to be weak but you aren’t weak, Summer.”
“Then why do I feel like I’m weak?” I started as the tears bled from my eyes.
“Because you think you’re all alone in this and that has a way of making you feel scared and helpless.” He gripped the bottom of my chin and tilted it up so I was forced to look him in the eyes. “But you aren’t alone. You have me and good luck to any person who tries to do you harm while I’m around.”
I wrapped my arms around his waist as I rested my head on his chest. “Thank you, Tom,” I whispered.
He brushed my damp hair back from my temple. He kissed my forehead. “We all have a past.” A shadow crossed his face but before I could ask him about his past, he kissed me. I kissed him back—it was slow and comforting, sweet. And suddenly I needed him physically. Sexually.
“I need you,” I whispered.
“I’m here for you.”
“No,” I said and shook my head. “I need to feel you inside of me.”
He didn’t say anything but his hands were suddenly on my back, tracing the zipper of my dress. I responded instantly to the heat and strength of his fingers against my spine and I rubbed against him.
He smiled and it was that ever-so-charming, slight crookedness to his smile that about melted me right then and there. “Come on,” he said softly as he pulled me toward the lake.
Instead of walking out on the pier, he led me beneath an old, gnarled oak tree. The grass was thick and lush there, drinking in the moisture from the lake and the reprieve from the sun beneath the tree’s branches.
He stopped, then sat down on the lush grass, pulling me down on top of him. I straddled his lap and he stared at me, brushing the tears off my cheeks, then he kissed them away and I was lost in the moment, the past forgotten, the future too far away to worry about.