The Palisade (Lavender Shores)

by Rosalind Abel

  I turned back to find Andrew staring at me from where he stood behind the desk, leaning on both arms outstretched, and his ever-expressive face shifting from hurt and confusion to rage and fear, then swiftly back through the entire assortment, seemingly unable to land on just one.

  “Harvest Coffee?” That sounded like rage.

  Again, I searched for a lie or a new truth, but found neither.

  “Harvest Coffee.” It was a statement that time, and he glanced around the office, not settling on anything as he mumbled to himself. “Coffee shop. Buying out Pete and Lavender Leaves. Opening a store.” His gaze fell back on me. “You were going to open a Harvest Coffee here or your own place?”

  I snatched up the out. “Comfort Coffee, actually. I was going to open a new one.”

  He relaxed somewhat. “Oh. You were leaving your dad’s company to open your own shop.”

  I nodded. And felt like shit.

  “Yeah.” I nodded again. I could do that. I would leave Harvest altogether. I’d cut ties. I’d open my own. It wouldn’t be a chain. None of this would be a lie.

  Except that it would.

  And if it came out, it would hurt Andrew. End us. And there was no if. That wasn’t how life worked. When. When the truth came out.

  “No.” I slumped in the chair, giving in to defeat. “I was going to open a new one here, but it would still be part of the company.” Maybe if I stopped there, things would be okay. But I couldn’t. Andrew deserved better, so much better than me. “The cabin will be, uhm, would be, the flagship store of our new chain.”

  Andrew stood straight again and crossed his arms over his chest. He nodded. His lips moved. He nodded again.

  “Andrew, I never meant to—”

  He held up a finger, silencing me. He nodded a few more times before his gaze leveled on mine once more. “So this entire time, knowing the regulations of the town, this was your plan? A way to get your company’s foot in the door of Lavender Shores.”

  I just nodded again. I didn’t know what else to do.

  “That doesn’t even make sense, Joel. Even if you set up a flagship store, the town wouldn’t allow you to make it into a franchise or anything.”

  I couldn’t answer him. The truth was too ugly.

  Andrew was too quick. “But you’re Harvest Coffee, huh?” His tone darkened, and his face screwed up into an ugly expression I never would’ve thought possible. “Let me guess. Bring in the lawyers until you got your way? Was that the plan?”

  I sat there, dying inside. I couldn’t deny or confirm. Not that I needed to.

  “Oh my God. I really am a fool.” Andrew’s face twisted again, and a tear slipped down his cheek. “I thought this was real. I thought you actually loved—”

  “I do love you.” I sat up and reached toward him over the desk, but he flinched, and I dropped my hand. “Andrew, I do.”

  He sneered through his tears. “Right. Loved me so much that you used me to…” His words fell away, and he sank into his chair.

  I got up and moved around his desk, then went to my knees in front of him, dying to wrap my arms around him, but afraid to touch him. “I’m sorry, baby.” He flinched again. “I’m sorry, Andrew. None of this was planned. I just—”

  He scoffed. “Really? None of this was planned? Sounds to me like there was a big old plan, probably with a big old board of directors waiting for you to weasel your way in here.”

  I winced at the term, but he was right. Weasel was probably the nicest way to put what I’d done. “I meant hurting you wasn’t the plan.” I rushed ahead, realizing how that sounded. “Falling in love with you wasn’t the plan. But I do. I love you, Andrew.”

  He didn’t look at me. “You couldn’t love me and do this.”

  Maybe he was right. The thought hadn’t fully formed in my mind before I swept it away. Of all the things I was certain about, I knew I loved him. Loved him in a way I hadn’t even known was possible. In a way that made me desperate and terrified. In a way that brought me to my knees in front of him. “No, Andrew. I do. I love you.”

  He sniffed, seemed to study a spot on his desk, and then turned to me, finally meeting my gaze. “So then your plans have changed? You really are moving here to open some other store. Not part of Harvest Coffee or Comfort Coffee or whatever-the-fuck coffee?”

  I hesitated. The thoughts from the wee hours of the morning tumbling over me again, the possibilities of commuting, of how to make the coffee store work. The fear of being trapped in Lavender Shores.

  “That’s what I thought.” He turned away.

  “No.” I grabbed his arm. “My plans have changed. I want you in my life. I want you to be the center.” Whatever else I felt, that much was true. To the core of me that was true.

  Andrew dared a glance once more. “So what? I’m supposed to convince the council to let you open up a chain here?”

  I hadn’t even considered that, but it could work.

  He scoffed. “Yeah. And I thought I was the easy one to read.” He pulled his arm free.

  I wanted to reach for him again, but I didn’t. “Maybe try San Francisco with me.”

  “What?” He looked at me, horrified.

  I hadn’t meant to say it, but the words tumbled out. “Maybe you’d like it. City life. Try somewhere new. Just like Gilbert. He’s happier away from here. Maybe you would—”

  His laugh was dark, though the pain behind his sarcastic tone was evident. “Right. Leave the town I love for the man who lied to me, used me, and made me think all my dreams were coming—” His voice broke, as did his expression, and the tears fell.

  My God. I’d done this to him. I’d caused this. Agony ripped through my heart, tore at my soul. “Baby. I’m so sorry.” I reached for him, desperate to fix it, to soothe him.

  Andrew flinched back so hard the chair nearly toppled. “Don’t!” He managed to stay upright and scooted away. “Don’t touch me.”

  I realized tears were streaming down my face as well. “Andrew, please.”

  “No.” He shook his head. “No. Just leave.”

  “Baby.” I choked out a sob, reaching for him again. “Please, just—”

  He shoved my arm away. “I said leave!”

  I searched his eyes, trying to find any hope there. Any chance to fix things. There was nothing. Only anger. And hurt.

  I stood, wiped my eyes, though the tears still fell, dying inside that this was the image I would hold onto for the rest of my life of the man I loved. “I’m so sorry.”

  He didn’t bother responding. Not even a shake of his head this time.

  Finally, I turned and left the office. I walked past the open door, where Regina and Gilbert both stared at me with something resembling hate, and then out the front door.

  Within half an hour, I was headed back to San Francisco. As I neared the Golden Gate Bridge, I pulled off the highway and wept.

  Seventeen

  Andrew

  The glistening scarlet A captured in a mass of red vines on the black label seemed to represent my entire life. I picked up the bottle of red wine and traced the embossed design. I was the A. Trapped in a nest of lies and deceit, so entangled I couldn’t get out.

  No. That wasn’t right. Joel was the A. He was the one wrapped in lies. Shiny and beautiful, but trapped in vines. No, not vines. Thorns. Did vines have thorns? Yeah, they did. Like the scene in the old Sleeping Beauty cartoon. The witch turned into a dragon inside her lair of thorns.

  Joel was a witch. Weaving spells.

  No. That wasn’t right either. He was the dragon. Breathing fire, ready to devour.

  “Joel’s a dragon?”

  Gilbert’s voice startled me, and I looked over to find him staring from his spot on the couch. Lamont, who sat near him, mirrored his look of concern.

  I hadn’t realized I’d spoken out loud. “Yeah. He’s a dragon. Or maybe a witch.” I glanced at the swirling design. “Actually, he’s the A.” I tapped the bottle, managing to tilt my wineglass withou
t spilling.

  Oh, the wineglass was empty.

  Still. No spilling. Success. I wasn’t doing that badly.

  “Well, if A stands for asshole, then I’ll agree with you there.” Gilbert stood. “Joel is definitely the A.” He took the bottle from me. “However, I’m thinking two bottles of wine between the three of us is probably where we should stop.”

  I reached for the bottle. “No. Nope. This isn’t the time for responsible drinking. I just fell in love with an A.” That sounded weird. “With a witch. With a dragon witch.” Fuck it. “Whatever. Give me back the wine.”

  Gilbert glanced at the wine bottle and then handed it to me. “Sure thing, boss.”

  “That’s right.” I tilted the bottle up, ready to empty the contents into my glass. A solitary splash of red dripped. Empty. I glared at him. “You’re a bitch.”

  He just grinned.

  I stood, using the arm of my chair to get fully upright. “I’m going to get another.”

  “Andrew, please. Let’s—”

  “Pizza.” Lamont interrupted him. “You had a good idea, Gilbert.” He turned his practiced older brother stare on me. “You can have more wine after you eat at least three slices of pizza.”

  “Thank you!” I gave a mock bow, which sent me crashing back into my chair. I held up my wineglass. “See, I didn’t even spill.” I took a sip to prove my point. Oh right. Empty. I returned my attention to Lamont. “And I agree to one piece of pizza before more wine.”

  He shook his head. “Three.”

  I glared at him, considering. “Okay, two.”

  Another shake. “Three.”

  “I don’t think you get how this nego… negotiat… ne…”

  “Negotiation?” Gilbert piped up with a grin.

  “Yes. Thank you.”

  Lamont ignored me and addressed Gilbert instead. “You take care of him, and I’ll order the pizza. And by take care of, I obviously mean, hit him in the head if he makes a run for the wine cooler.”

  “Fuck you, Lamont!” I started to stand but realized that wasn’t going to happen anytime soon.

  He flinched, looking hurt.

  “Don’t give me that face. I might be heartbroken. I might have fallen in love with the biggest dragon A witch ever, but that doesn’t mean I’m stooping to drinking wine coolers. Fuck.”

  Lamont snorted. “Oh, for crying out loud. I didn’t mean wine coolers. I meant your wine refrig—never mind. Gilbert, do your thing.” He sauntered off, focusing on his cell.

  “Why’s he gotta be rude right now?”

  “Scoot over.” Without waiting, Gilbert squeezed in beside me and wrapped his arm over my shoulders. “I’m so sorry, babe.”

  My breath caught at his words, feeling the loss of Joel cut through me, bringing with it a frantic desperation that clenched at my chest. I’d lost him. He was gone.

  My dreams. All that I’d envisioned swept away.

  I’d been so certain. So clear. I’d seen it in his face. He loved me. He was the one. We were going to have this amazing life, and we’d…

  “No!” I hit the cushioned arm of the chair with my free hand. “I’m not going to cry over him. I’m not. He’s a liar, an ass. He used me. He’s a liar. I’m not going to cry.”

  “Andrew, it’s okay to cry for him. You love him.”

  “I do not!”

  “Loved. I meant loved.” Gilbert patted my chest like I was an irate five-year-old. “Whatever Joel was or is, you’re hurting. You can cry.”

  “Fuck him. I’m not giving him any fucking tears. He used me. Made me believe that I was finally going to—” My eyes stung. No, none of that. “Fuck him!”

  “Or be mad.” Gilbert continued to pet me. “Mad works. Let’s do the anger stage tonight.”

  I glared at him. “I know what you’re doing. This isn’t a stage. This isn’t that fucking loss cycle. I’m not going back and forth between denial and anger and sadness and exceptions, er… acceptance.” I had to focus to get the word out. “I’m mad, and that’s all that fucker deserves.”

  “Damn right.” Lamont plopped back down in his spot on the sofa. “You be mad. And soon you’ll be mad over pizza.”

  I glared at him, considering. “Fine. You’re forgiven for insinsuat… for saying I drink wine coolers.”

  “Well, thank you, little brother. You are most magnanimous.”

  I pointed at him. “Don’t use your five-dollar words just because you’re a writer and not drunk.”

  “I’ll do my best.” His expression grew serious. “I do hate that you’re hurting, but I’m so glad it all came out into the open before it was too late. Before weeks or months went by and you’d really given him your heart.”

  “Fuck, Lamont. And you’re the romance writer.”

  Lamont narrowed his eyes at Gilbert. “What does that mean?”

  Gilbert squeezed my shoulder. “Andrew already gave Joel his heart.”

  “Nope. Did not.” I shook my head but stopped abruptly, the motion too much. “Fuck him.”

  Lamont studied me, the expression in his eyes changing.

  I pointed at him again. “No, don’t look at me like that. You were right. No hearts were exchanged with that fucking dragon witch. Fuck him.”

  “Yeah, fuck him.” Gilbert followed my lead and smacked the arm of the chair.

  I didn’t want to think about Joel anymore. No more. And I wasn’t allowed to get more wine yet. Fuck. Lamont was right. It had been so close. So very close. Papers were almost signed, and then Joel would’ve been here and the fucking coffee shop. Then lawyers and franchises and who knew what after that. And it would’ve been all my fault. I’d have been the one who rolled out the red carpet for the biggest A of all time. It was just a twist of fate that none of that had happened. I squeezed Gilbert’s leg. “Thank God you had a lien on your house, or we might not have had time for you to realize who he was.”

  It took a second for Gilbert to reply. “Well, I’m not sure I’d put it quite like that. I realized who he was before that little announcement, but whatever.”

  “Did you get it cleared up, Gilbert?” Lamont leaned forward.

  “No. Haven’t worried about it. There wasn’t time… after.”

  That particular moment replayed in my mind, settling on Gilbert instead of Joel. “What medical bills?”

  “Doesn’t matter. We’re focused on you. We’re here for you.”

  Twisting uncomfortably in the chair, I glared at him. He was slightly blurry. “What medical bills, Gilbert? You never told me about having an operation. You’re supposed to tell your best friend these things.”

  “I didn’t have an operation. I’m fine.” Even in my fuzzy state, his irritation was obvious.

  “I’ve already had my heart broken today. Don’t pull back from being my best friend too.” Holy shit, dramatic or not, that thought really did threaten to bring on the waterworks.

  “Goddammit.” Apparently, Gilbert heard the hurt in my tone, and he let out a long sigh. “Fine.” He pointed at me, then Lamont. “This goes no further than here. Got it? I don’t need Mom freaking out and calling every five minutes. I already made up a story and have her back to some semblance of equilibrium.”

  Lamont and I both nodded.

  “It’s not a big deal. I just needed to be in a treatment center for a couple of weeks last year. That’s all.”

  “A treatment center?” The words were making no sense.

  Lamont sucked in a breath. “Not a big deal? Gilbert, come on.”

  “It wasn’t a big deal. I’m fine. And I fucking paid the bill. I was just late. I kinda shut down after, and then it went to collections. It’s all paid up. I just didn’t think about making sure my credit was back and that everything was all right. It’ll all be cleared up with a few phone calls. The lien will be gone.”

  “I didn’t mean about the house. Who cares about the house?”

  “I know that, Lamont.” Gilbert sounded ready to attack.

  Lamo
nt didn’t stop. “Why didn’t you say something? This wine can’t be helping you right now.”

  “I wasn’t there for alcohol. Although they help with that too.”

  It clicked. “Rehab? You were in rehab?”

  He sighed, shoulders slumping. “Not exactly. I just…” Another sigh. “You know how I can get. Things just got dark. A lot darker than normal. And I wasn’t sure I was going to be… safe by myself, you know?”

  All thoughts of Joel faded, or at least got shoved aside. “Did you try again?”

  His gaze flicked to Lamont.

  Shit. I’d never told anyone about Gilbert’s suicide attempt during his senior year. “Sorry.”

  Lamont, being Lamont, rolled with it. “It’s okay, Gilbert. What’s said here, stays here. As long as you’re okay.”

  Gilbert seemed to consider for a while. “Okay. Thanks, bro.” He turned back to me. “And no. I didn’t. It was close, but I didn’t.”

  “Why didn’t you call me?”

  Guilt crossed his face. “I called them, the help line. I got the help I needed. I just didn’t want to worry you.”

  I wrapped my arms around him, totally stricken that I’d nearly lost my best friend and hadn’t even realized. “I love you.”

  “I know.” His strong arms encircled me. “I love you too. And I really am okay. I promise.”

  I didn’t let go for a long time. Emotions mingled to where I couldn’t figure out where I began, where Joel took off, and where Gilbert weaved through. “You really promise?”

  He nodded against my ear.

  The doorbell rang.

  Lamont stood. “Be right back.”

  “Thank God.” Gilbert let out a long sigh when I pulled away, and he offered a forced grin. “Are you going to ask a billion questions about the treatment center so you don’t have to focus on Joel?”