Tangled Love on Pelican Point (Island County Series Book 3)

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Tangled Love on Pelican Point (Island County Series Book 3) Page 4

by Karice Bolton


  “It wasn’t over your dad.”

  “Then what or who?” I asked, peeking into the bathroom. It had also encountered a tornado of epic proportions. Towels clung to every surface, empty liquor bottles spilled out of the garbage can, and day-old food containers sat on the vanity.

  Maybe Anthony did make an appearance here.

  “It’s not my place.” She let out a deep breath. “While you’re out in the world killing yourself, some people take advantage of your kindness.”

  I tied the first garbage bag and glanced at Marcy.

  “Jack saw your mom—”

  “Stepmom,” I corrected.

  “Stepmom at the bar,” she finished.

  My eyes flashed to hers. This was news to me. My stepmom told me she needed to help an elderly friend who couldn’t get her wood fireplace started.

  “Are you sure?”

  “Jack was the bartender on duty last night. He said she got pretty lit, and he wound up calling someone to come get her.”

  “Well, it wasn’t me who came to her rescue.”

  My heartbeat slowly started climbing as I saw Marcy’s gaze harden.

  “This isn’t the first time either, Sophie. I just didn’t think it was any of my business.” She started rolling up the dirty sheets but stopped to throw me a sympathetic grin. “Seeing you this tired made me feel bad, and something told me you didn’t have a clue.”

  “Not a clue.” I shook my head and went back into the bathroom to try not to scream. How many times had this gone on? Was I this naïve? This stupid? I stared at the empty tissue box and held back my tears.

  Why this? Why was this about to make me cry when I had so many options?

  I could cry about the rent. I could cry about my dad’s hospital bills. I could cry about not having enough to send out a customer’s order. But no. Hearing my stepmom lied to me was what got the waterworks flowing.

  Because deep in my heart, I knew who came to pick up my stepmom. I wiped away the tears and sucked in a deep breath. My dad deserved so much better.

  “At this rate, I won’t get the rooms finished by Christmas, let alone three o’clock.” I walked into the hall and regrouped, only I really couldn’t. I was so angry at my stepmom that my pulse pounded in my ears.

  I grabbed the bathroom cleaner and marched back into the room as Marcy went into the hall.

  “And I bet the person who came to pick up my stepmom wasn’t female,” I said over my shoulder.

  Marcy walked by with a stack of clean sheets and grimaced.

  “Well, this is why I’m not sure I buy the whole love thing. I think some families are just cursed,” I continued. “I don’t think the price a person has to pay to try out love is worth it.”

  “Don’t be silly,” Marcy called from the bedroom.

  “I’m not. I’ve seen what happens when the wrong people get together time and again. First, my parents argued like lions and hyenas while I was growing up, and then they saved their divorce for my graduation day. Next, my stepmom decides ‘till death do us part’ isn’t literal, and my dad is clinging hopelessly to a love that doesn’t exist. Meanwhile, my mother left Fireweed Island, and her children still haven’t caught up to her how many years later?”

  The moment my parents divorced, I saw a side of my mom I never imagined. She resented the life that had been dealt her, and in turn, I often felt she resented my brother and me.

  Her actions only solidified my hypothesis once I turned eighteen and she fled the island, never to return.

  I was nothing like my mother, and I never would be. Life had always been complicated, but I promised myself I’d never turn into her. I’d prided myself in having her bitter gene skip right over me. Unfortunately, the bitterness landed on my brother instead, but he didn’t live on the island, so I rarely had to deal with it.

  “Well, you haven’t had the ideal example of what love can be, but I promise you, my dear. You’re not cursed.” Marcy was only about ten years older than me, but she seemed worlds apart and so much further along in life.

  “Only time will tell.” I thought back to my stepmom’s behavior last night. I should have known. She was far too eager about wanting to go help her friend with her fireplace. But then again, who was I to judge how difficult it must be to care for someone so ill?

  “I can’t imagine the stress my stepmom must feel day in and day out.” I took in a deep breath and let it fill my lungs before I squirted the cleaner in the stone shower.

  Marcy popped her head into the bathroom.

  “I can’t imagine the stress a daughter must feel thinking she has to save the world and make excuses for poor behavior and decisions.” Marcy pulled out a white slip of paper from the pocket of her beige uniform and dangled the receipt in front of me.

  I ran the water to rinse off the cleaning solution and glanced at her.

  “The bar tab.” She scowled.

  My eyes fell to the total with tip. “Over a hundred dollars?”

  “She bought a few tables some drinks.”

  “How very considerate of her.” I shoved aside the anger that wanted to bubble over aside. I didn’t have time for my stepmom. We had forty-one more rooms to somehow finish before three o’clock, and I had to keep my wits about me for my other shift at the restaurant tonight. I needed a great night of tips to offset the lousy day of few tips.

  “I’m not showing you this to cause problems. I just think it’s about time you knew all the facts and maybe start making choices for yourself instead of being misled and compromising your own wellbeing.”

  “Well, it adds credit to my thoughts about love.” I stood up and wiped my hands off on my pants. “But onward. Time to vacuum. And this time, we’re in luck.”

  Marcy followed my gaze to a ten-dollar bill on the bathroom vanity.

  “Maybe so.” Marcy let out a sigh and watched me grab the vacuum and plug it in without another word.

  The moment the roar of the vacuum surrounded us I realized why I enjoyed doing this particular task so much. I didn’t have to talk to people. I didn’t have to face the fact that I was being taken advantage of when I didn’t see an obvious way out. Not yet, anyway.

  While I was busy making payment arrangements for my dad’s medical expenses at a hundred a month, my stepmom was blowing the equivalent at a bar. And let me tell you, it wasn’t easy to rack up a bill that totaled even fifty at our local dive bar. That took real work.

  The more I thought about it, the more livid I became. I stopped buying supplies for my Etsy store so I could help them with this month’s groceries, and she went out and drank away a hundred dollars.

  Marcy walked in front of me and pointed at the ground. I’d been vacuuming the same square of carpet for several minutes.

  “Sorry,” I hollered and began to quickly canvass the rest of the room.

  Now that I had this information, what in the world did I intend to do with it?

  I turned off the vacuum and watched Marcy carry in the rest of the towels.

  “Let’s talk about some of the fictional men,” Marcy called from the bathroom. “I think I just threw enough reality at you for one day.” She eyed me suspiciously. “Tell me about Mr. Anthony Hill.”

  “If you’ve read any of the tabloids, you know he isn’t an ideal boyfriend, fiction or otherwise.”

  But for some reason, just his name brought a flutter of unrealistic expectations, and I forced down the thrill of imagining what it would be like to date a rock star, even for only a night.

  “Is there a particular reason you’re ignoring Anthony’s texts?” Natalie asked, leaning against the counter.

  I’d stopped by her florist shop to pick up flowers for the Loxxy. Every Wednesday, we traded out bouquets in the lobby. I volunteered to be the courier so I had an excuse to visit. Today’s arrangement was particularly large with orange Gerber daisies bursting out of the vase and dark purple tulips draping over the edges. Hopefully, I’d manage to get it back to the hotel in one piece.


  “Who said Anthony had texted?” I asked, staring at the menu and avoiding Natalie’s probing stare.

  “I do happen to be engaged to his brother, you know.” Natalie walked behind the barista stand and waved in front of me. “Let me make you a white mocha with a splash of raspberry syrup.”

  “You’re trying to butter me up with free drinks?”

  Natalie began preparing the mocha, and I wandered around the shop, taking in her latest décor. Natalie’s shop sported reminders that Halloween was right around the corner. Between the large velvet bats dangling overhead to the ghosts draped in the window display, Natalie never missed an opportunity to decorate. She even named her espresso drinks after the holidays to get us all in the spirit.

  “Here is my extra special ghoulish mocha with raspberry.” She placed the cup in front of me and sighed. “Now, what’s going on? Why haven’t you answered at least one of Anthony’s texts? Weren’t you the one touting the simplicity of texting when I was on the fence about Cole?”

  I glanced at the clock. I could spare ten minutes.

  “The short version is that while I’m sure Anthony is an absolutely fascinating human being, I don’t feel like dragging him into my world. The view from down here has not been pretty lately. And beyond you two pushing him toward me, I don’t see why he’d be the least bit interested in me.”

  Natalie’s brows shot up, and she shook her head.

  “That’s not the Sophie I know. What’s going on?” She slid two stools over and took a seat in front of me.

  “Things haven’t gone exactly how I planned recently.” I bit my lip, debating what all to tell Natalie. She was fresh off an engagement she’d waited a lifetime for, and I didn’t want to burst her bubble and weigh her down with my troubles only days after her amazing news.

  “When do they ever?” She gave me a sympathetic grin. “Is it your dad? I thought he was doing better.”

  “No, he is. But I think I’ve hit my wall, financially and emotionally.”

  Natalie nodded and let out a sigh.

  “Right now, I should be doing better than ever. My rent is affordable, I got a modest raise at the Loxxy, and I even had a nest egg built up until last year.”

  Natalie nodded and clasped my hand. “It’s hard seeing the ones you love suffer, and I know you want to help any way you can.”

  “It is,” I agreed. “But as of Sunday, I came to the realization that there’s a fine line between helping and being taken advantage of, and I’ve apparently slid into the latter category. Not by my dad, but by Cindy.”

  “What’s your stepmom been up to?” Natalie scowled.

  “Apparently more than I realized. After your party, Anthony drove me home, and I got a text from her that she needed help because my dad wasn’t doing well. I got to my dad’s house, and she went to help an elderly friend with some sort of heating issue during the storm—or so the story went. Come to find out, she was at the bar buying everyone drinks and had to be driven home. I’d just bought the amount she’d spent at the bar in groceries for them, not to mention paid part of another one of my dad’s medical bills.”

  “I’m so sorry, Hun. You do not deserve this.”

  I shook my head. “That’s not the worst of it.”

  Natalie’s brow shot up.

  “The man who was called to pick her up from the bar was someone I’ve had a hunch about over the last while.”

  “A hunch?”

  “I think she’s cheating on my dad.”

  Natalie flinched in disgust and pulled her hand back.

  “Oh, Sophie. You’re kidding.”

  “I wish. So to say I didn’t feel like texting Anthony would be an understatement. I can barely hold my own head above water, and it certainly wouldn’t be right to pull him under with me. I’m just not into the whole dating thing.”

  The shop phone rang, startling me, and Natalie held her finger to shush me while answering it.

  “Yes, she is,” Natalie spoke into the phone. “My guess is another few.” A pause surfaced as she avoided my gaze. “I don’t think that’s the best idea.” Another pause. “You’re not my brother-in-law yet.” Her eyes landed on mine. “Suit yourself.” And she hung up.

  A thrill ran through me at the realization that Anthony had been on the other end of the line. I hopped off the stool and glanced out the window, not seeing any sign of him.

  Natalie groaned. “Don’t kill me. We can still fix this, but I happened to mention to Cole that you’d be by this afternoon to pick up Loxxy’s arrangement, and word travels fast between those two.”

  I rolled my eyes. “You are impossible.”

  “In all fairness, I had no idea what’s been going on.” She smiled. “But you’ve got a few minutes to flee before Anthony gets here. I’ll carry the arrangement out to the car for you so you can safely hold your drink.”

  “Thank you,” I muttered, strapping my purse across my shoulder. “I’m just not up for any more problems in my life.”

  “I understand,” Natalie said, picking up the arrangement. “But maybe one of the first things you should do to make a change is let yourself have a moment where you can push everything out of your mind with no distractions.”

  I pushed open the door as Natalie carried out the flowers. “That’s the problem. I don’t think I can put this out of my mind. And let’s not fool ourselves. There are always complications.”

  I unlocked the car and Natalie crawled inside, securing the vase to the front seat with the seatbelt.

  “When do you get off from Loxxy?” Natalie asked, pulling herself out of the car.

  “Six.” I gave her a quick hug.

  “I’ll be at your place a little after six then. We need to hash this out.”

  “What about Cole?” I asked, not wanting to whisk Natalie away from her fiancé.

  “He’s a big boy. He’ll be just fine.” She smiled, but her expression fell as her eyes focused on something over my shoulder.

  I didn’t need to turn around to know. Anthony was close. I could feel his gaze on the back of me, and every single thing I’d been telling myself over the last few days came barreling through my mind.

  “He’s here,” I whispered.

  A hidden smile filled Natalie’s gaze, and she nodded before whispering a quick apology and leaving me to stand alone on the sidewalk.

  “You’re not very good at responding to texts.” Anthony’s voice coated me like a piece of candy I wanted to nibble, and I held in a groan of frustration at my lack of willpower. It had never been a problem before, but then again, I’d never met someone who could hold the attention of forty thousand screaming fans before either. He obviously had skills. “Funny thing is, I know you got the messages because there’s this handy little feature that lets the sender see when the receiver has read it. If you want, I can show you how to turn that feature off. It might save my ego a bit.”

  He was standing directly behind me, yet I stayed securely fastened with my gaze directed at Natalie’s flower shop. I felt every inch of him hovering, and my body wanted to respond in a way that wouldn’t be good for either of us, so I stayed put.

  “I doubt your ego needs saving. From what I’ve read online, a little humility could do you some good.”

  “I thought silence was more of a weapon than words, but I think I might have been wrong.” He took in a deep breath, and I felt the oxygen get sucked from all around me as my resolve to stay steely around him vanished. The charm he exuded belonged exclusively to the Hill brothers.

  “I don’t mean to be cruel. I’m just not any good for you.” I turned around to face him, and his chestnut colored eyes locked on mine, sending my thoughts of restraint out of the atmosphere. The depth behind his gaze was startling, and the smile that slowly spread across his luscious lips could have been my undoing, but I had bigger problems in my world.

  “Isn’t that supposed to be my line?” he joked.

  I couldn’t help but laugh and shake my head.

>   “I’m sorry for not returning your texts. Things have been crazy since you dropped me off at my dad’s, and I’m just not quite there yet.”

  “Where’s there?” Anthony asked, his head cocking slightly as he studied me. A charge ran between us that nearly swept me off my feet, so I took a couple of steps back, which only made his smile deepen.

  “There?” I asked, confused. He seemed taller than I remembered from the weekend as I looked up at him.

  “You said you’re not quite there yet. I wanted to know where there was. There, as in you’re not ready to return my texts? Or not ready to hold up your end of the deal?”

  “What do you mean my end of the deal?” I asked, walking slowly around the back of my car.

  He studied me carefully as I leaned against my car door, waiting for his answer.

  “You don’t remember?”

  I shook my head, taking a sip of my mocha. I really didn’t have time for this, but I saw a wounded look flicker through his expression before he pulled it back in.

  “You’re really going to make me say it?”

  “Afraid so.”

  “I offered you a ride in exchange for a dinner, and I’m not going to be on Fireweed for that much longer, so . . .”

  I felt like such an awful person. Who would forget that they agreed to have dinner with a rock star?

  Me.

  I would be the one person in life who could manage to make empty promises to a person who had everything and then tear him down in the process.

  “I’m so sorry. I swear I’m normally more on top of it. I just—” I stopped, realizing I’d already begun pulling him down into a rabbit hole of complexity he didn’t deserve. “Dinner would be great before you leave Fireweed, but I’ve got to get back to Loxxy. Why don’t you plan something with your brother and Natalie and shoot me some dates? Then we can all get together before you leave town.”

  For a brief second, I thought I caught a hint of devastation, but he reeled it in so quickly I must have been mistaken. He tapped the top of my car as a wry grin traced his mouth.

  He took a step back and nodded. “Sounds good, Sophie. Take care.” The way his words delivered his message made me wish I hadn’t been so . . .

 

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