Taking Chances: A Whiskey Ridge Romance
Page 2
Cameron Elliott sat at his desk, staring at the spreadsheet on his laptop in front of him. He just couldn’t make the numbers work, not matter how hard he tried. Book royalties were way down this month, and two of his biggest authors were running woefully behind on their deadlines.
“Cam, I don’t know what you want me to say. The characters have to speak to me, and right now they just aren’t,” Jasmine Blake said, her trademark platinum blond locks cascading over her shoulders. She was his top author right now and wrote an eclectic mix of paranormal romance and science fiction. It was an odd combo, but one that her droves of fans adored. She could write fairy tales on toilet paper, and they would buy it by the thousands. But none of that did Raven Publishing any good if she couldn’t write books on time.
“Jaz, we had a hard deadline. You know this. You missed the last deadline too.”
“This isn’t how I work, Cam. My last publisher understood me, and I just don’t know if this is working out. The constant pressure really blocks my creative process.”
“You’re six weeks behind.” He was going to lose it any minute, and once he did there was no coming back from that so he took a deep breath.
“My characters are taking a break,” she said, sitting back in the chair and filing her long pink nails. For the life of him, he couldn’t figure out how she typed with those things. Jasmine really was the epitome of too much money and not enough class.
Cameron stood up and paced around his desk before finally sitting on the edge of it. Owning a publishing company, albeit a small one, was way more than he’d bargained for. After all, the whole point of moving to New York City was to take on a few publishing clients while he started writing the great American novel himself. He wanted to change literature and be one of the authors that high school students were required to study one day.
He had never wanted to manage other authors in the first place. But his keen business sense and mounting college debts had forced him to create a business for himself. Either he could’ve gotten a job and written part-time, or he could’ve immersed himself in the world of publishing while writing at the same time. It had seemed like the perfect plan - at the time.
The only problem was that he hadn’t anticipated how incredibly hard and challenging a publishing house could be. And he was crumbling under the pressure.
At thirty years old, he had no real family aside from his elderly grandmother whom he hadn’t seen in person in two years now. As if that huge guilt wasn’t enough, he was behind on his rent, taking blood pressure medication and was now contemplating what he’d do if he lost his biggest author.
“Look, Jaz, you know I want to work with you. Raven Publishing is behind you one hundred percent, and I want you to be happy. But your fans are waiting. They’re dying to see your next book. In fact, we get fan mail almost everyday asking when your next book is coming out. I know how you love your fans…”
She smiled and batted her eyelashes like some overdone cartoon character. “Yes, I have the best readers. And they do adore my books.”
Humble.
“So what do you say we extend another three weeks and then get this book published?” he asked, crossing his fingers behind his back.
She eyed him carefully before sticking out her hand to shake his. “We have a deal. But no more pressure. I work alone for a reason, Cameron. I’ll have the manuscript on your desk three weeks from today and not a moment sooner. If I get one email or call asking for an update, I’ll pull my contract faster than you can pace around that desk again.”
With that she stood up, grabbed her tacky gold purse and walked out. And Cameron was left wondering how his life had gotten so completely off track.
* * *
It was mid October, and Piper was worried. Christmas was coming in a few weeks, and she couldn’t see room in her tiny budget for all that Lucas wanted. Like any American kid, he had dreams of gaming consoles and the latest and greatest electric scooter, but she’d be lucky if she could afford thrift store castoffs.
After tucking him in bed, she sat at her second hand kitchen table, the corners of the fake wood peeling off, and looked around her cramped apartment. It wasn’t in the best area of town, but it was close to work and to her mother’s trailer.
She was thankful they had a roof over their heads, but the place was falling apart. The apartments had been created from an abandoned motel, and the pool that had once been there was now filled in with dirt and weeds.
Lucas shared the same room with Piper, his tiny toddler sized bed barely containing his seven year old body now. She’d have to get him a real bed soon, but she had no idea where she’d put it in the small bedroom they shared.
The apartment did have a small galley style kitchen, but she could stand in the middle and touch both walls at the same time. It had a two burner stove, a mini refrigerator and a microwave. No oven and no dishwasher made cooking for them difficult, so they ate a lot of frozen and canned foods which worked out well because they were the cheapest anyway.
Piper stared down at her budget. Although she had little money, she had learned how to budget by watching Internet videos on her phone. Determined to dig out of the pit they were in, she thought budgeting carefully might help but right now it was just depressing her more.
Then she thought about what Lola had said a few days before. Sometimes trying times would lead to later blessings, or something like that. She was holding on to that thought because right now she couldn’t see a way out.
* * *
The diner seemed busier today that normal, but Piper didn’t mind. More people meant the potential for more tips, and she was hopeful that she could start adding to her Christmas fund for Lucas.
The breakfast crowd had finally left and she sat down on one of the red and chrome bar stools for a moment.
“How’s Lucas liking school?” Ernie asked as he cleaned the grill.
“Oh, he loves it. That kid is smart. Going to be President one day,” Piper said with a smile.
“I’d vote for ‘em,” Ernie replied with a chuckle. “Gotta be better than the idiots we got now.”
Piper giggled, but the truth was that she wasn’t overly political and didn’t really understand much of what politicians said anyway. She was more focused on her day to day life and just getting by.
“Hey, Ernie, have you seen Lola today? I just realized it’s 11:20.”
Ernie turned around, his face filled with concern. “That lady ain’t ever been late. Something’s wrong.”
“You think?”
“Piper, have you ever known Miss Lola to be late?”
“No.”
They both sat silently for a moment, turning to look out the wall of glass windows each time a car passed. None of them were Lola’s blue sedan.
“Maybe somebody should check on her?” she said.
“I can’t leave. I gotta start lunch,” he said. “And you sure can’t leave me here alone. Clara’s not coming in until later.”
“Then I guess we can only wait…” she said. The truth was she had a bad feeling. That cough she’d heard Lola doing… it wasn’t good.
Ernie and Piper were slammed during the lunch rush, and Piper finally got Lola off her mind. But once things slowed down again, she was definitely worried. Something was wrong with this picture.
“Ernie, I’ve got to go check on her. She doesn’t have family here…”
“Go. I’ve got it for now. Clara should be in shortly.”
Lola didn’t live too far from the diner, so Piper hopped in her car and drove the few blocks to her tiny cottage home just off the square. It was a lovely place, and Piper had visited there for tea a few times.
She had a beautiful garden in the back with lots of roses, Lola’s favorite flower. Of course, at her age she now had a gardener who cared for her yard, but Lola was specific about how they handled her flowers.
Her car was in the driveway, and it definitely hadn’t been moved that day because the leaves that had fall
en from the tree were still scattered on her windshield. Piper felt a quiet calm around her as she knocked on the door.
“Miss Lola?” she called as loudly as she could in case the elderly woman couldn’t hear her. There was no answer. She knocked a few more times but there was no answer. She turned the handle, and to her surprise it was unlocked.
She cracked the door open and called again, but there was still no answer. The last thing she wanted to do was scare her if she was taking a bath or something, so she continued to call as she walked through the small home.
And then she saw her. She was lying in her bed, still covered up, with a peaceful look on her face.
“Dear God, please let her be napping. Maybe she just overslept,” Piper whispered to herself. “Miss Lola?”
There was no movement. She stared at her chest. There was no rising and falling. She touched her hand and it was cold. Very cold. She wanted to cry, but she couldn’t because Lola looked as peaceful as anyone she’d ever seen.
“Oh, Miss Lola,” she said as she caressed her hand. “I’m so sorry no one was here with you…”
Piper pulled out her cell phone and called 911, although there was nothing they could do for her. She didn’t know who else to call.
As she waited for the ambulance, Piper alternated between holding Lola’s hand and walking around her tiny house in those moments she needed a break from the reality of it all.
There were pictures - some of her daughter as a little girl, some of a little boy she assumed was Lola’s grandson. There were pictures of Christmases past and birthdays long gone.
Lola had fresh roses in a vase on her breakfast table, likely cut from her garden the day before. She had a half eaten homemade poundcake on her counter and the newspaper from a few days ago spread across the breakfast bar.
She’d just been living her simple, quiet life - and now she was gone.
A few minutes later, paramedics were wheeling her out of her home covered with a simple white sheet and Piper was left standing in the doorway wondering what to do.
“Ma’am, are you her granddaughter?” the paramedic asked as he filled out some paperwork.
Piper stared straight ahead. “I wish.”
“Pardon?”
“Nothing. No, I’m not related. I was just a good friend of hers,” she said with a sad smile. “Her only family is her grandson. I think his name is Cam? He lives in New York City.”
“We’ll get in touch with him,” he said. “Sorry for your loss.”
Piper locked the door behind her and took one last look around before closing it. It was so quiet, the deafening silence of a life extinguished. Lola was old, no doubt, but she’d mattered to Piper and now she was gone.
* * *
Going back to work was hard, but she had no other choice. She had to finish her shift, and she had to tell Ernie and Clara about Lola.
“Did you find her?” Ernie asked, concern clouding his normally jovial expression.
“I did. She passed away, Ernie,” Piper said, sorrow overwhelming her until a tear finally escaped down her cheek. It wasn’t dinnertime yet, so no customers were there which gave them both some needed time to take a breath and grieve a bit.
“My God… Well, she’s in a better place now. Heaven sure gained an angel today,” he said, taking off his white chef’s hat and putting it over his heart. “Won’t be the same around here without her.”
“No, it won’t,” Piper said softly. “Where’s Clara?”
“In the office. Want me to break the news?”
“Please,” she said. She just couldn’t handle another thing today.
* * *
The next few days were a blur. Piper worked the same number of hours she always did, but the diner seemed emptier without her daily visit from Lola. She never realized how much the old woman really meant to her until she was gone. And isn’t that the way life always seems to work? You don’t know what you have until it’s gone.
Just before lunchtime, a man that Piper didn’t recognize walked into the diner. He was spiffier looking than local folks, wearing a nice suit with a bright red bow tie. He was older, probably in his late sixties, and he carried a beat up leather briefcase that looked like he’d had it a good long while.
“Can I help you?” Piper asked with a smile as he walked in. Given what he was wearing, he might be a good prospect for a big tip, she thought.
“Yes, I’m looking for Miss Piper Williams.”
“Oh. Well, that’s me…” she said, concerned that this official looking man was asking for her.
He reached out and shook her hand. “My name is Peter Dylan. I was Lola Carver’s attorney.”
“Nice to meet you. But I don’t exactly understand why you’re looking for me?”
He pointed to a booth. “Mind if we sit down for a moment and talk?”
Piper nervously led the way to the corner booth, the place where Lola spent a portion of her life everyday for the last several years. She looked down at her watch and noticed it was 11:15 and almost broke down.
“So, I’m sure you’re wondering why I’m here.”
“Yes, sir, I am.”
“It’s about Lola. She thought a lot of you, Miss Williams.”
“And I thought a lot of her too,” Piper said. “She was an amazing woman.”
“Did she ever mention a place called Whiskey Ridge to you?”
“Briefly. Just the other day, in fact. The last time I saw her…” Piper choked up and took one of the tiny white napkins from the chrome dispenser on the table.
“Well, she had some specific instructions about her property up there that involve you.”
“She has property in the mountains?” Piper was genuinely surprised since Lola didn’t mention that part.
“She does. I came here to let you know about the reading of the will that’s happening tomorrow. And it’s happening in Whiskey Ridge.”
“But, Mr. Dylan, I have to work. And I have my son…”
He chuckled, which Piper found to be a little irritating. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to laugh. It’s just that Lola said you’d say something like that.”
“She did? When exactly did you speak with her last?”
“The day before she passed. Miss Williams, Lola knew she was sick. She had been diagnosed with lung cancer about nine months ago, but she didn’t tell anyone except for me. And she refused treatment.”
“What? Why would she do that?”
“Because she was eighty-nine years old and ready. She liked having control over her life, and she didn’t want to spend her final days getting chemo and being miserable.”
“I wish she had told me…”
“She knew you’d treat her differently, and she didn’t want anyone feeling sorry for her. But over the last few months, she worked on getting her affairs in order and you’re a part of that. A big part. She told me to tell you that your blessing has finally arrived, and that it’s worth your while to travel to Whiskey Ridge, Miss Williams.”
Piper wanted to argue, tell the man that she had to work and didn’t have a babysitter, but she could almost feel Lola sitting there, poking her in the arm and telling her to go. So she agreed.
“Now, I realize the drive is several hours, so I’ve arranged a place for you to stay while you’re there. The reading is happening at one o’clock tomorrow. Here’s my card. The address is on there.”
She took the card and shook his hand once more before watching him get into his black BMW and drive straight toward the interstate. Why he couldn’t just call and talk to her instead of driving so far was beyond her comprehension, but she bet it was one of Lola’s demands, and that alone made her smile.
Chapter 3
Piper drove her exhausted little car into the town square of Whiskey Ridge. She’d put the last ten dollars she had in gas and arrived in town on fumes. After a frantic morning of finding a babysitter who could take care of Lucas after school until her mother could get him, she had finally gotten
on the road - late, of course - and sped her way to Whiskey Ridge.
The last part of the drive was scenic, with picturesque Fall views as she drove through the curvy mountain roads. She’d never seen such beautiful colors, the orange and gold leaves making her feel like she was driving straight into a postcard.
Whiskey Ridge was an even smaller town than Minnsville - which she hadn’t known was even possible - but it was lovely. Like a fairytale, really. It was dotted with farms and big red barns and a perfect town square with a diner, barber shop and everything else that would’ve been there in the 1950s. It truly was like traveling back in time.
As she pulled up in front of the attorney’s office, she felt a bit nervous, unsure of what Lola would’ve included her in the will for in the first place. She had her grandson, although he seemed to be sporadic about his involvement with his grandmother. The thought made Piper a bit angry at the mystery grandson because she would’ve never neglected Lola if she’d been her real grandmother.
“Miss Williams. So good to see you again,” Mr. Dylan said as she walked into his brick front office space. It was small and decorated like 1975 was still going on, with original wood paneling on the walls and a musty smell. She glanced around looking for moth balls.
“Nice to see you too,” she said, shaking his hand.
“Please, come on back. The other party is already here.”
The other party? What did that mean?
He led her to a small office. A man, not much older than her, dressed in a finely tailored suit was sitting in the chair opposite the desk. He was on his phone, busily texting someone, and didn’t even bother to look up at first.
“Please, have a seat and we’ll get started.”
Piper tentatively sat down in the chair next to the other man. She smiled at him when he finally looked over at her, but he didn’t crack a smile in return. In fact, he looked irritated and confused.
“Who is this?” he asked Mr. Dylan as if Piper wasn’t even in the room.
“This is the other party to the will, Cameron. This is Piper Williams from Minnsville, where your grandmother lived.”