by Jamie Beck
“You can’t stop me from trying.”
“I promise, you’ll be wasting your time.” She sighed and shook her head.
Resentment served no one, especially not her. Life was too darn short to hold grudges, especially when she had picked herself up and moved on. By letting go of the hurt, she’d finally be freed from the past.
“I can accept you and Andy rekindling your friendship, because he needs all the support he can get. But don’t mistake my courtesy for more than that, okay? We didn’t work out before, and we wouldn’t work out now.”
She picked up her purse and stood to go.
“Andy says you’re working with Grey Lowell.”
“Is that a question?” She cocked her head.
Matt hesitated. “Is he the reason you won’t consider giving me another chance?”
“You know I can’t date patients.” Avery hoped the truth wasn’t too obvious.
“That’s not a real answer.”
“Well, it’s the best you’re going to get.” With that, she strode to her brother’s door, giving it a sharp knock before going into her own room, and closing her door gently behind her.
She belly flopped onto her bed and closed her eyes. In a few short months, her entire life had run off the rails. Her ex-almost-fiancé had returned to win her back, her brother faced bankruptcy and jail, and her heart couldn’t suppress its increasing infatuation with the most unsuitable man in town.
What else could possibly go wrong?
Chapter Eight
Grey tucked his finger inside the collar of his shirt. It had been forever since he’d worn a button-down shirt and slacks. Heck, he was surprised he even owned a pair. “I wish I hadn’t let you drag me out tonight.”
“If anyone needs a night out, it’s you—my treat. Besides, you should hobnob with the locals and other business owners.” Trip waved his hand toward the businesses lining the street. “According to folks I’ve gotten to know, Mamacitas is the place to go on Cinco de Mayo. It won’t kill you to try to schmooze a few of these guys.”
“Schmoozing’s your area of expertise.” Grey opened the door to the restaurant, letting the sound of dueling guitars playing flamenco spill onto the pavement. “Why can’t that be your job?”
“Because I’ll be too busy schmoozing all the women.” Trip winked and strode in front of Grey, hips swaying to the music.
When they entered Mamacitas, Grey’s mouth began to salivate at the array of churros, flan, and chocolate-pecan pudding thingies on display.
“I know it’s been a while, but you do still remember sex gives you a better orgasm than sugar, right?” Trip remarked before tipping his cowboy hat at the hostess.
Grey chuckled, although how he found any humor in his sorry sex life, he couldn’t quite say.
As they followed the hostess through the restaurant, Grey noticed the upscale surroundings. Each table was topped with flickering candles inside glass-and-iron hurricane lanterns. Deep reds and golds on the walls and tables complemented the antique wood floors, exposed brick wall, and wavy glass windows. Flamenco music enhanced the festive environment.
Baskets of chips and salsa and guacamole, along with pitchers of margaritas of varied flavors and colors, were scattered among the tables, too. Although a lot of single people crowded the joint, there were several families there too.
One little girl in particular—with a devilish glint in her eye—caught Grey’s attention. She’d tugged the fancy bows out of her hair and pulled at the collar of her embroidered cotton Mexican dress. The kind of spunky daughter he’d enjoy having one day.
He twisted his bracelet, letting the leather softly abrade his tattoo.
Years ago, he and Juliette had been in love and making plans. They’d even picked out kids’ names and daydreamed about what kind of house they’d have. It had been perfect, until it had been cruelly stolen. A once-in-a-lifetime kind of love he’d been convinced he’d never feel again, or at least he had been convinced until recently. But the complications surrounding a relationship with Avery increased the risk of failure. Could he survive another slam to the heart?
“Where’d you go, Grey?” Trip set his menu down. “You look morose.”
“Just an old ghost.” Grey picked up the menu. Pricier than he ought to be considering, but he’d grown pretty sick of PB&Js and egg salad these past several weeks.
“Uh-oh. Boomerang at eight o’clock.” Trip held up the menu like a shield before peering over its top. “Oh, but she’s not alone. Looks like a double date with her friend Avery and two guys.”
Luckily the waitress appeared before Trip picked up on Grey’s bothered expression. “Can I get you gentlemen a drink?”
“Black currant margarita, extra strong, and extra sugar on the rim.” Grey leaned back in his chair and tried to peek around the waitress to get another look at Avery without Trip noticing.
“I’ll stick with a classic margarita, thanks,” Trip said.
Grey recognized Andy, but who was the other guy? The athletic-looking blond with a too-broad smile pulled out Avery’s chair. The guy stared at her like she was a special on the menu, for chrissakes.
Who the hell was the man drooling all over Bambi?
Whatever appetite Grey brought with him fled. Why couldn’t he get past this infatuation? His hopeless fascination with his off-limits PT.
“Ghosts again, or is that scowl because your pretty PT might be on a date?” Trip pinned Grey with a knowing gaze. “This is going to be a long meal, isn’t it?”
“Nope.” Grey drummed his hands on the table, determined to move past his obsession. After the waitress dropped off their drinks, he said, “It’s May. We need to book more climbing tours in the pipeline or things will be very lean this summer.”
“You should update the website. Maybe start a blog or do some of that other social media stuff.” Trip hesitated, as if waiting for Grey to shoot down his idea. “We need buzz.”
“How much does it cost?”
“Don’t know, but the payoff could be well worth it. And as long as you’re grounded, you’ve got the free time to post blogs and tweet shit.”
“Yeah, have the dyslexic guy write every day. Sounds like a great plan.” Grey slammed back a swig of the sweet yet tart drink.
“Blogs and tweets are short and sweet. You’ve got spellcheck to help.” Trip stretched one leg out from under the table. “It’ll get the message out. Get people interested.”
When the waitress delivered their meals, Grey and Trip temporarily dropped all discussion of work. Grey swirled one shrimp in the habanero-lemon cucumber salsa before stuffing it into his mouth.
“Oh yeah, that’s outstanding.” Grey savored the explosion of flavor.
Grey happened to glance across the room at the same time Avery noticed him in the restaurant. She blinked just like the first time he’d seen her. Too damn cute. Before he could stop himself, he grinned and waved his fork.
She smiled and waved back, which caught Kelsey’s attention. When Kelsey turned toward him, her face lit up like the North Star. He noticed Andy peering at him as Kelsey excused herself from their group and made her way across the room.
“Now look what you’ve done.” Trip failed to conceal his laughter.
“Hi, guys!” Kelsey stood by Grey, wearing some kind of ruffled wrap dress. Her long blond curls hung low, drawing further attention to her cleavage. “What are you two over here conspiring about?”
“I’m trying to convince Grey to invest in a new website and some social media.” Trip wiped his mouth with his napkin and took another swig of his margarita.
Kelsey’s face nearly broke apart. “Ohmigod. Yes! I did that with my real estate business and it really helped. Maybe I can help you get started.”
Trip’s look of surprise mirrored Grey’s, but Grey couldn’t imagine a worse-case scenario th
an working closely with Boomerang. Too many land mines.
“Maybe once I settle things with the accident we’ll have extra money to invest.” Grey cleared his throat, uncomfortably aware of her friendship with Andy. “Unfortunately, it’s all moving at a glacial pace.”
Kelsey’s eyes darted toward Andy then she leaned toward Grey conspiratorially. “Well, I don’t mind helping you out in exchange for your promoting me to wealthy clients interested in buying vacation homes.”
“Well, that’s mighty nice of you, Boo—er, Kelsey.” Trip coughed to cover his near miss.
Grey couldn’t help but smile at Kelsey’s confused expression. The stiff drink had begun to loosen him up. Maybe working with her wouldn’t be so terrible. It would give him a chance to prove they didn’t have a future.
“That’s a nice offer.” Grey noticed Avery watching them with interest, which boosted his ego. “I’ll think about it.”
“So, Kelsey, who are you here with?” Trip asked.
“Oh, Avery and Andy, and Matt.” She smiled, clasping her hands by her heart.
“Why the saucy look?” Trip flashed her one of his patented smiles. “Is Matt someone special?”
Grey felt grateful Trip’s fishing expedition would ferret out the answers he wanted. Sometimes Trip’s social skills really came in handy. Thankfully they were friends, because the guy would be a dangerous enemy.
Kelsey leaned forward again, this time in a secret-sharing manner. “Matt and Avery were almost engaged, but then he left her for one of his rich, young clients. Now he’s returned to try and win her back.” Her eyes glittered. “Isn’t it romantic?”
Grey stared at her wistful expression, trying not to let his disgust show. Romantic? The guy was a selfish dick.
“What the hell’s romantic about a guy cheating on his girlfriend and then trying to dupe her again?” Shit. He’d actually said it aloud.
Kelsey’s brows lifted. “Who says he’s here to dupe her? Can’t someone realize his mistake and try to make it right? True love wins in the end.”
“That’s a bunch of horseshit, Kelsey.” Grey pushed his empty glass across the table. “True love doesn’t cheat.”
“You sound just like Avery.” Kelsey frowned and glanced at Trip. “Aren’t there any romantics left?”
“Just you and me, it seems.” Trip raised his glass toward her.
Kelsey graced him with an appreciative smile. “Well, my offer stands. I’m happy to donate a few free hours if you decide to work on those social media plans. You can check out my firm’s site, Callihan’s Peak Properties dot com, which also contains a blog and links to Facebook and Twitter.”
“Thanks, Kelsey.” Things would be so simple if only Grey were attracted to her.
“My pleasure.” She beamed at him. “Bye!”
Grey watched her strut back to her table. From the corner of his eye, he noticed Trip assessing her, too. Huh.
“Who knew the girl had useful skills?” Trip finished his drink.
Grey didn’t respond because he’d become distracted by Matt’s fawning over Avery. The only thing keeping Grey from punching something was the fact Avery didn’t seem to be thrilled by the guy’s attention. If anything, her fidgety hands and stiff posture suggested she had little interest in reconnecting with Matt. At least not yet, anyway.
Trip glanced at Grey then Avery and back again. “Tick tock, my friend. Tick tock.”
Chapter Nine
Avery buried her face in her hands, sighing. Problem solving had always been a challenge she’d enjoyed, but the current financial dilemma held no simple solution. She toyed with the small desk clock as it ticked away the seconds like a game-show timer running out.
Her savings account was rapidly dwindling thanks to floating Andy’s share of their house payments and expenses these past months. If only her parents weren’t counting on the monthly loan checks to supplement their meager retirement income. She couldn’t indefinitely pay Andy’s share of everything without causing significant disruption to her own life. And every dime spent bailing him out took away from the fund she’d been saving to try to start her own clinic.
If Grey won a big judgment, they were all screwed. Even if he didn’t, Andy was very likely going to jail, possibly for a number of years. How would she manage to do this all on her own? She rubbed her temples. How dare she fret over money when her brother would be facing far worse concerns in prison?
Andy wandered out of his room half-dressed, hair still wet from his shower. He stepped closer and peered at the papers on the desk. “Whatcha doing?” His shoulders slouched when his gaze fell on the house payment check sitting beside her laptop. He averted his eyes as he walked into the kitchen.
She nibbled on her thumbnail. “Any luck with the job search yet?”
“Nope.” He gulped a large glass of orange juice. “No one’s interested in hiring a felon who could be carted off to jail soon. I’m a poor risk.”
Avery’s hand flattened against her stomach, as it did each time she was forced to confront her brother’s future. In that moment, she resolved to find a solution without adding to Andy’s stress. “I’m sorry.”
“I know.” His defeated grin weighed on her heart, fueling her near-desperate desire to restore hope and some sense of normalcy to his life.
Silence mushroomed around them. Once again Avery’s fingers massaged her temples to cope with the stress she felt whenever she realized how little control she had over either of their futures. She watched her brother pick at the fruit bowl and rinse his juice glass.
Although she couldn’t do anything about the criminal charges, surely she could facilitate some kind of employment. Maybe Emma needed help around her inn this summer?
The doorbell rang, interrupting her train of thought. She glanced at her watch. “Who’s here at this hour?”
“Matt’s driving me to my defense lawyer’s office. He keeps trying to reduce the felony charges, but honestly, at this point, I’d live with them if we could just get the prosecutor to drop the jail time.”
“Andy.” Avery paused, unsure of how to comfort him.
He dismissively waved his hand. “Can you let Matt in while I finish getting dressed?”
He shuffled to his room while Avery retied her robe, smoothed her hair, and caught a glimpse of herself in the hall mirror. She groaned before trotting toward the door, calling out, “Coming!” after Matt knocked again.
“Good morning.” She held the door partly closed, blocking his entry. “Andy’s not quite ready yet. Give him five minutes.”
“Can I come in?”
Avery rubbed one eye with two fingers. “Fine.” She stepped aside to open the door. “You know, you’ve spent a lot of time with us these past ten days. I hope whatever your reasons are for sticking around town, they aren’t about me.”
“Everything isn’t about you.” Matt crossed his arms, having the gall to appear indignant. “But I do want to talk to you before Andy comes out.”
Avery held up her hand. “I’m not interested in sharing confidences. If Andy has something to tell me, he can do it in his own time.”
“What if waiting costs you your chance to save this house?”
Avery tilted her head. “Well, that certainly got my attention.” She sat at the kitchen island instead of in the living room, having no desire to make things cozy. “What are you talking about?”
He looked a little too pleased with his victory. Determined not to beg him for details, she waited.
“Did Andy tell you much about the night of the accident?” Matt remained standing, his elbows resting on the counter. His blue eyes scanned her face and took a quick inventory of the rest of her, too, eyes lingering on the knot just below her chest.
She tucked the top half of her robe together for additional modesty. “You mean about how he didn’t see Grey on the bike, or abou
t the ice on the roads?”
His gaze moved back up to her face. “No, I mean about what happened before he got in his car.”
She crossed her arms and legs, impatient with his Twenty Questions approach. “Only that he’d been out for drinks with his buddies.”
Matt straightened up, glancing toward Andy’s room before continuing. “Apparently those guys hooked up with a bachelorette party at the OS.”
The “OS,” locals’ shorthand for the Outpost Saloon, was a decades-old popular hangout among the ski instructors and local ski bums. Cheap drinks. No posers. The kind of joint she and her friends used to haunt to scope out the cute guys. Guys like Matt, in fact.
“Oh, what a surprise. A bunch of skiers hoping to take advantage of drunk women.” Why Matt considered this news helpful, Avery surely didn’t know. She uncrossed herself and began to slide off the stool.
“Hold up.” Matt pulled out the stool next to Avery and sat down. “Apparently Jonah Barton was bartending that night and had the hots for one of the girls. He wanted to keep her at the bar, so he kept pouring everyone rounds of shots despite their increasing rowdiness.”
Avery waited for the big revelation. When Matt said nothing, she flipped her palm toward the ceiling. “And?”
“Jonah served obviously drunk people more alcohol. Every bartender knows that’s against the law. Insurance companies require bar owners to enforce it. So it’s possible the OS could be held responsible for the consequences of Andy’s accident.”
Avery sat up straighter, intrigued but wary. “If that’s true, why haven’t Andy’s lawyers already raised this defense?”
“It’s not a defense to the criminal charges. And in Colorado, the intoxicated person can’t sue the bar. But a third party can.” Matt shook his head when she didn’t connect the dots fast enough. “Grey Lowell can sue the OS. These cases are real long shots, but if Lowell gets money from the OS, maybe you won’t be forced out of your house.”