“How’d it go?” he asked. “Did you find someone to do the estate sale?”
I nodded and grabbed a donut. “Family Solutions. The only problem is she can’t fit us in before we have to move. I don’t know what to do.”
Charlie frowned. “Is there any way you can push back the move date?”
I stared at my lap. “Maybe,” I said quietly, “if we ask the board for more time.”
“Hasn’t your mom asked?” Charlie asked, his voice soft with concern.
I still hadn’t told my uncle about Mom’s drinking, and I didn’t want to now. He already worried enough about me. “I’m sure she will,” I lied, knowing I was the one who had to do it. Even though I was terrified.
He frowned. “What can I do to help you, Darcy?”
I forced a smile. “Keep supplying these donuts.”
He reached across the counter and squeezed my hand. I held his gaze, so grateful to be with him, yet seeing so much of my dad in him that I had to fight back tears.
Toby jumped up and raced for the door. I turned to see Lucas standing outside, laughing with Eddie from Inkheart. If I were a dog, I’d be panting at the door, too. Lucas saluted Eddie then pushed through the door. He bent down to pet Toby, then looked up and grinned. “Hey. What’s up?”
“Not much.” I focused on my donut. He looked exceptionally delicious today, wearing a tight, dark green thermal shirt that outlined his muscles and made his eyes look like sparkling jewels. God, I was pathetic. What was I doing, designing a romance book cover in my head?
He perched next to me on a stool and grabbed a donut. “Put it on my tab,” he told Charlie, who just winked at him.
“Hey!” I pointed accusingly. “The pink ones are mine.”
He raised an eyebrow, watching me intently while he licked the pink icing with his tongue. Holy hell. I turned away and gulped my water. There weren’t enough ice cubes in the city to cool me down right now.
“I’m taking Toby for a walk before my shift starts,” I said, sliding off my stool to avoid looking at his eyes or his mouth…or his tongue, still working on the icing.
Lucas stood up, wrapping his donut in a napkin. “I’ll go with you.” He glanced at Charlie as he slid the donut toward him. “Save this for me. Okay if I take my break before my shift even starts?” He grinned.
Charlie looked back and forth between us. “Go ahead,” he said, a funny little smile on his face.
Toby danced around us as we headed for the door. Lucas held it open and then fell into step next to me as we walked down Broadway. My heart hammered as I tried to think of something to talk about. We always seemed to have lots to talk about in the shops, but we hadn’t done this before, just the two of us.
“Truth, Darcy,” he said. “How’s everything going? For real.”
I stumbled and he put out a hand to steady me, which didn’t help since the sudden warmth of his touch made me even more klutzy.
“I’m okay,” I said, once I’d figured how to walk again.
“You’re lying,” he said conversationally, like he’d asked me about the weather. He tossed his long dark hair out of his eyes and I swallowed, trying to maintain my composure. “You’re worried about something. More than usual, I mean.”
My lips parted in surprise. “How can you tell?”
He shrugged. “I just can.” I gazed down at Toby, whose tail wagged at warp speed. “It might help to talk about it,” Lucas said, his voice soft.
I glanced at him, startled at the intensity I saw in his eyes. I turned away, pretending to be interested in the jumble of model airplane kits in the window of the run-down hobby store.
His hand brushed mine, lacing our fingers briefly, but before I could catch my breath, he released my hand and took hold of Toby’s leash. He cleared his throat. “That’s what friends are for, right?”
Friends. Right. Of course. I let go of the leash, letting Lucas take over. “Yeah,” I said, my voice a little wobbly. We walked in silence and I wondered if I’d hallucinated the whole almost-held-my-hand thing.
“If you don’t tell me what’s up, I’ll just ask Charlie.”
I took a deep breath. Inhale calm. Exhale obsessive need to analyze potential hand-holding event. “I found someone to do the estate sale. Mom said she’d sign the paperwork, but left me in charge of it all. But there’s a scheduling issue.”
He was quiet for a bit, but the back of his leash-free hand brushed mine again as we walked. “When my mom left,” he finally said, “my dad kind of checked out for a while. He spent all his time fixing his car, or working late doing repairs for the property management company he works for.” He took a deep breath and suddenly I wanted to reach out to squeeze his hand. But I didn’t have the guts to do it. “I took care of Pickles all the time.” He turned to grin at me. “I even changed her diapers.”
“Wow.” I laughed at that image. “That’s what I call brotherly love.”
“Right? I’m just that awesome.”
Without thinking, I shoulder-bumped him. “Shut up.” Crap. Had I actually just touched him on purpose?
“So, um, anyway.” He shot me a sideways glance as he tucked his hair behind his ear. “I guess what I’m trying to say is, I’ve sort of been there. Doing the stuff parents are supposed to do, because they can’t. Or won’t.”
We ended up in a neighborhood park. “When did you, I mean how did you get your dad to…to start functioning again?”
He stopped, forcing Toby to stop, too. He stared down at me as we stood on a small wooden bridge, the breeze ruffling his hair, focusing on me so intently that I could hardly breathe.
“I didn’t, Darcy. That’s the thing. You can’t make your mom change. She has to do it for herself.”
I swallowed. I knew what he said was true, even though I wanted him to give me some sort of magic key that would unlock the door to my mom’s closed heart.
He took a step toward me. A muscle in his jaw twitched, and the blue-green ocean color of his eyes seemed darker than usual. Then Toby spotted a squirrel and took off at full speed, yanking Lucas after him. I exhaled and grabbed the bridge railing for support as I watched Lucas run behind Toby, laughing and yelling at him to heel.
Had he almost kissed me? Or was I losing my mind?
We walked back to the shops together, talking and joking about unimportant things, the sparking tension between us gone. Maybe I’d imagined the whole thing.
I was glad to be working by myself tonight. My mind was a jumble of worries about the estate sale, anxiety about persuading the Harvest board for more time to move, punctuated by images of Lucas gazing at me on the bridge, his eyes burning with intensity.
My shift was almost over when the door swung open. A gust of bitter cold wind whooshed in along with the last person I expected to see.
“Ryan? What are you doing here?” I stared at him, stunned.
He brushed snow out of his hair and smiled at me. He wore his Burton snowboarding jacket and swung his Range Rover key on a long lanyard, looking like an ad for a ski resort.
My heart thudded, but not with excitement like it did for Lucas.
“So this is where you work, huh?” He looked around the shop. The place was empty since it was almost closing time. “Sal told me about this place.”
I would kill her. Painfully.
“You want something to drink?” I asked, wondering what the heck he was doing here.
“Sure,” he said. “Make me your specialty.” He moved close to the counter, watching me work Bella.
“Soo,” he said, drawing out the word. “I was wondering. Does your dad still have that box suite at the football stadium?”
My hand slipped on the filter holder and I almost spilled espresso grounds everywhere. Was he seriously angling for tickets? I stared at him, wondering why I’d ever thought he was hot, when he was so shallow.
“Uh, I guess,” I said. “I mean, technically it’s owned by his com
pany.” Unless J.J. had sold it already.
“Cool.”
I handed him the finished mocha, not bothering to put whip cream and sprinkles on it. He took a sip and raised his eyebrows. “This is good.”
Of course it is, I wanted to say, because I’m a kick-ass barista. Instead I just shrugged. “Thanks.” I heard the back door open and close, then familiar footsteps and the jingle of Toby’s collar. Lucas stopped short when he saw Ryan.
“Hi,” I said to him, willing Ryan to leave. Like now. Toby moved behind me, licking up crumbs from the floor.
Lucas looked between Ryan and me, his eyes narrowed. “Hi,” he said, his stare settling on Ryan.
“Hi,” said Ryan, oblivious to the tension crackling around him.
“Um, we’re just about to close,” I told Ryan, pointing to the Eiffel Tower clock that indicated 9:55.
He glanced at the clock, and then turned back to me. “Cool.” He hesitated. “Do you need a ride home?”
“She drove her truck,” Lucas said next to me, before I could reply.
I glanced at him, startled, but Ryan just shrugged again, still clueless. “Okay.” He took another drink of his mocha. “So, uh, maybe you could let me know about the tickets. The Seahawks game is coming up. It should be awesome.”
I had no words, so I just mimicked his shrug.
He took a step back. “Guess I’ll head out.” He glanced around the coffee shop. “It’s not Starbucks, but this place is all right.” He shrugged again. “Kinda run-down, but I guess it’s just this neighborhood.”
Lucas stiffened next to me, his hands clenching into fists. I bustled past him, store keys in hand, gesturing for Ryan to leave. “See you later,” I said, practically slamming the door. I locked it and flipped the sign from open to closed then took a deep breath before turning around.
Lucas stood with his arms crossed, glaring at me. I flicked off the main lights, which only made him look scarier, like a gorgeous, angry statue bathed in the soft lights behind the counter.
“Who was that?” He bit out the words.
“Just some guy from school.” I busied myself picking up empty coffee mugs and plates, but nervous energy jangled through me, making me clumsier than usual.
“Is he…” Lucas’s voice trailed away, then he cleared his throat. “Are you…dating him?”
The tray of empty mugs wobbled as I glanced at him. His hands were in his pockets now, but he still looked angry. Or maybe not angry, exactly, but…something. Something not happy.
“Uh, no. He’s just…” I could hardly say Ryan was a friend, since he only showed up when he wanted a favor. He still had never asked me how I was doing. Not even once. Not to mention, “just friends” was what I always said about Lucas, and what I had with him was special, in its own way.
“Just what?” Lucas prompted, his voice low.
I set the tray on a table and looked at him. “Just a guy who has no clue about what’s really going on in my life.”
Lucas crossed his arms again, still watching me. “So what was he doing here? Besides insulting Liz’s shop and my neighborhood?”
Ouch.
I picked up the tray and walked toward him slowly, my gazde on the floor so I didn’t trip again. “He wanted something from me.”
Lucas reached out and took the tray from me, his fingers brushing mine and zapping me like they always did. “What did he want?”
I turned away to wipe down the counter. “My dad’s company has a box suite at the football stadium. Ryan wanted tickets to the Seahawks game.” I tried to force a laugh. “At least, they used to have a box. J.J.’s probably selling it. Like he’s selling our house.”
The tray slammed down, sending cups and plates clattering. I whirled to look at him. He bent over the counter, picking up the spilled cups, his hair hiding his face.
“Are you okay, Lucas?” I didn’t know what was happening, or understand the energy rolling off of him in waves. I could practically reach out and touch it.
He ignored me as he washed dishes in the sink.
“I used to think I was in love with him,” I said, surprised by my confession. “If you can believe it.”
Lucas stilled, then straightened and turned to look at me. “I can believe it. Girls are suckers for a pretty face.”
“You would know.” Oh my God. I’d said that out loud. And I couldn’t take it back.
He watched me silently, waiting. I turned back to the counter, scrubbing hard, wishing I could erase my words the way I erased the coffee stains.
“But you’re over him,” Lucas said from behind me.
I nodded, but didn’t turn around. “There’s not much to be over,” I muttered. “He never really knew me. And he’s not very…aware of what other people are going through.”
Unlike you, I wanted to say, but this time I kept my mouth shut.
We cleaned up and avoided eye contact. After I closed out the register and hid the cashbox in Ft. Knox Fairyland, we left together. Lucas waited while I locked the alley door, Toby nudging his hand for petting.
I really wished for a light in the alley tonight, because the dark made me want to walk closer to Lucas. But I didn’t.
He held the truck door open while Toby jumped inside and I climbed in after him. I started the Reaper and Lucas closed the door, then gestured for me to roll down the window.
“Sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean to be a jerk earlier. But that guy…” He shrugged and turned to look down the dark alley.
“It’s okay.” I swallowed over the lump in my throat. Where had that come from? I reached over to pet Toby. “Thanks for the walk today. For telling me about your dad.”
“I’m always here for you, Darcy.” His voice was quiet. “Whatever you need.”
I nodded, unsure of how to reply.
He stepped away from the truck, pulling up the collar of his leather jacket against the wind. “See you later, Shaker Girl.”
Then he turned and walked away, disappearing into the darkness.
When I got home, I found Dad’s latest postcard on the kitchen counter.
This one was from New Mexico with only the state flag on the front. He hadn’t written a single word on the back. Instead he’d sketched a man sitting cross-legged on the ground. All around him swirled images of angry faces. The man’s eyes were closed and a single tear rolled down his face.
The drawing worried me more than anything that had happened so far. Was this how my dad felt? What made him run away?
I thought of Lucas, telling me he was there for me. I had the urge to call him, to share this latest burden with someone I knew would listen.
But instead, I trudged slowly up the stairs and collapsed on my bed, closing my eyes and praying for sleep.
Chapter Sixteen
November 4
I’d been to the Harvest offices many times before, but never by myself. Dad’s personal parking spot in the underground lot was empty. I pulled the rumbling truck into it, grinning at the idea of J.J.’s face if he saw this crappy truck where Dad’s BMW usually parked.
I was halfway across the lot before a voice stopped me.
“Young lady? You can’t park there.”
I turned around to face Don, the security guard who’d known me since I was a little kid.
His eyes widened as he recognized me. “Darcy? What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be at school?”
Great, my own personal truant officer. I hesitated. “I have a message, for J.J. and the board.”
Don shook his head, his gaze softening. “I sure do miss your daddy. I hear all kinds of rumors about him.” He narrowed his eyes. “And I don’t believe any of that crap on the internet about him ruining the company. Your daddy ain’t that type.”
Some of the tension eased out of me. “Thanks, Don. That means a lot.” I adjusted the messenger bag slung across my body. “I need to get in there before I chicken out.” I glanced at the silver
Jaguar in J.J.’s parking spot.
Don followed my gaze and grimaced. “You want me to back you up?” He slapped his hip. “They don’t let me pack more heat than a Taser, but it could come in handy up there.” He grinned at me.
I laughed. It would be nice to have a semi-armed sidekick, but I had to do this on my own. “Thanks for the offer, but I’m good.” I took a few steps away, then turned back. “If I have to make a fast getaway, you can keep the dogs off of me.”
Don laughed and raised his hand in a mock salute.
I pushed through the steel door and waited at the bank of elevators. Breathe. Inhale calm. Exhale stress. All I was asking for was time, not money.
When the elevator opened onto the penthouse suite, Dad’s secretary looked up. She looked even more shocked than Don. “Darcy?” she whispered, then glanced over her shoulder to the long row of offices behind her. “What are you doing here?” Mrs. Hamilton looked like a scary high school principal, but she was as sweet as cotton candy.
“I need to see J.J and the board,” I said. “I’m guessing they’re meeting? Freaking out about my dad?” I knew Dad always had board meetings on Tuesday mornings, and hoped the day hadn’t changed. I hadn’t even thought twice about ditching school to do this. I looked down the hallway toward the conference room and swallowed hard.
“Yes. In fact the whole board is in there right now,” she said, watching me warily.
Dreams die every day because people are afraid to take the first step. Dad’s words propelled me to take one step, then two.
Just do this, I told myself. Don’t stop. Don’t think. Just do.
“Darcy, wait!” Mrs. Hamilton called after me, but I didn’t stop.
Photographs lined the walls—enormous framed photos of my dad with athletes, rock stars, and internet millionaires—brass plaques attached with quotes from the clients. “I owe my success to Ty’s philosophy.” “Tri Harvest turned me from a star into a superstar.” And on and on.
The conference room door was closed, but I heard yelling on the other side. I closed my eyes, imagining Dad’s face. I pictured him coming home, enveloping Mom and me in bear hugs. Visualized him standing here instead of me, throwing open the door, confronting J.J. and the board. Telling them it was all a mistake. Demanding apologies. Firing J.J.
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