I hung up the phone before she could finish. I didn’t need to hear the rest of it, and our conversation was going absolutely nowhere. My shoulders had crept all the way up to my ears, and I tried to take a deep breath and get them to relax. What finally did the trick was the realization that I did not have to go back there ever again if I didn’t want to.
Chapter 27
Cole
I could tell by the look on Stella’s face that the conversation had not gone exactly how she’d hoped it would.
“If you want to talk about it, we can,” I said. “But if you don’t, I completely understand.”
“I’m sorry you had to hear all that. Well, part of it.”
“Sounds like your mom is mad.”
“She’s not happy. But I don’t care about any of that. I’m here with you. That’s what matters to me.”
“Come here.” I patted the couch cushion next to me and she came and sat down. I rubbed her shoulders a little bit, felt her muscles relax under my fingertips. “Listen,” I said. “There’s something I need to tell you.” I had been thinking about the whole conversation I’d had with her old mechanic, Marty. I’d been putting off telling her because things had been so good, and I knew bringing something like that up was a total mood killer. But there would never be a “good” time, and I didn’t want to keep putting it off.
The smile slowly slid off her face. “That doesn’t sound good.”
“I don’t know if it is or not. But I think it’s something that I should tell you.”
“Okay,” she said slowly.
“Remember that day we ended up at the bike shop and we saw your old mechanic?”
“Yes. It was totally awkward and weird. I remember.”
“Well, he got in touch with me after that.”
“Marty did? Why? How did he even get your number?”
“He looked me up in the computer at work. They take your contact info and stuff when you buy a bike through them. But anyway, he got in touch with me because he wanted to talk to me about... your accident.”
Stella’s eyes narrowed. “Oh, really?”
“Yeah.”
“And what did he have to say?”
“He said that someone gave him money to do what he did. To mess with your brakes.”
I watched as what I was saying sunk in.
“Why would someone do that?” she finally asked. “I don’t understand.”
“I know,” I said. “It doesn’t really make sense to me, either. But I don’t think he was lying.”
“Who was it? Who was this alleged person who gave him money?”
“He didn’t know.”
She stood up. “I’m going down there to talk to him.”
“I don’t know if—”
“What? If I should or not? I could technically have died because of what Marty did. Which I never blamed him for, even though I had plenty of people telling me that it was his fault. Turns out it really was!”
“He didn’t think that you would get as hurt as you did.”
“That doesn’t matter! And how could he not think that? He tampered with my brakes before a race! What the hell did he think was going to happen?”
“I think he thought that you’d realize something wasn’t right and you’d pull up.”
“Why are you defending him?”
“I’m not! Don’t think for a second that I’m condoning what he did, because I’m not! That’s seriously one of the shadiest things that someone could do. I just don’t think he’s this evil person, is all. He did it because he needed the money. He was going through a custody thing.”
She eyed me. “He told you all this?”
“Yes.”
“I vaguely remember that,” she said after a minute. “The custody thing. But I never asked him about it because I was really too caught up in my own stuff. Couldn’t be bothered.” She nodded, a frown on her face. “It was obvious that he was going through some stuff, but it never interfered with his work. Or at least that’s what I thought at the time.”
“I’m not saying you should’ve been like his shrink or anything,” I said. “He was your mechanic. He had a responsibility to you to make sure your bikes were working and safe. But... I don’t think that he really wanted anything bad to happen to you.”
“Who gave him the money?”
“He doesn’t know.” I hesitated. Was I supposed to tell her the whole thing? That Marty thought Stella’s dad was somehow behind all of this?
“What?” Stella said, her frown deepening. “There’s more. What aren’t you telling me?”
I could try to deny that there was anything else, but I wasn’t a very good liar. “He said he didn’t know who gave him the money. The guy was almost in a disguise. But... that he thought your dad might have something to do with it.”
“What?”
“I know. I’m just repeating what he told me.”
“Oh, my God. I don’t even think I can be having this conversation right now. And I don’t believe a word that Marty says. Why is he saying this now? He’s probably just trying to clear his conscience. I know for a fact that my father would not have anything to do with this. It’s disgusting that he’d even suggest that. That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.”
“I’m sorry, Stella. I don’t want to be talking about all this either. But... I wanted to be honest with you about this. That, plus those weird text messages you randomly get... it seems like there’s someone out there who wants to hurt you. Right? I mean, I’m not getting weird-ass texts like that. Maybe... maybe we should talk to someone.”
“Like who?”
“I don’t know. The police?”
“I’m not going to the police. I’m not afraid of some loser whose only ability is to send me threatening text messages. Don’t you think they would have done something by now?”
“Well... maybe they did. I mean, I’ve been riding around this city for a hella long time and have never been hit like that before. It could’ve been totally random—but I get the feeling it wasn’t.”
“And you think that whoever did it was trying to get to me.”
“It kind of seems that way! I know it sounds like something out of a movie, but... your life hasn’t been exactly ordinary, I would say.” I could tell she was getting upset by this whole conversation, which was not what I was trying to do. But I didn’t really feel like she was taking it seriously. It wasn’t just some random coincidence that I’d been plowed into, or that someone had paid her mechanic to tamper with her brakes, or that someone was sending her these anonymous text messages. The way she was acting, though, you’d think that this sort of thing was normal, that it was to be expected. “You just don’t seem very bothered by this.”
“I’ve had people write weird shit to me before,” she said. “People on Instagram wanting to know if I’ll meet up with them, or making weird threats, or saying sexually explicit stuff, or saying stuff like they’re praying for me.”
“That’s kind of different, though. The praying part. There’s always going to be weird religious freaks who say stuff like that. And prayers aren’t exactly harmful.”
“I know, but there are all sorts of people out there, who say all sorts of crazy things, and you can’t go to the police every time something like that happens. Maybe some people would, but I’m not.”
“It’s not like you’d be a coward, though, if you did something like that. I think this could actually be a legitimate threat.”
She gave me a coy smile. “Well, it’s good that I have you around, then, since you’re the professional.”
“You know I’d do anything to keep you safe. But... I still think maybe we should talk to someone.”
“Not yet. Nothing bad has happened.”
“I’d say getting brakes tampered with is pretty bad.”
“You’re right; it is. But nothing bad has happened since that. I don’t think that Marty is stalking me or anything. You were there when we ran into him at the bi
ke shop—he was totally surprised to see me.”
“Right. So it would seem that there’s someone else out there who is out to get you.”
Stella made a face. “This whole conversation sounds ridiculous.”
But I didn’t think so. The more we talked about it, the more I was beginning to get a better idea of just what had happened. It was obvious that Stella’s father cared about her, but no one in her family seemed that psyched about her racing. The accident she was in had ended her career, but didn’t cause any permanent damage. Her father must’ve set the whole thing up because he knew that if they simply asked, Stella wouldn’t stop. She would have to be forced to stop. But Ed Brookshire wasn’t the type of guy who would want to force his daughter to do anything.
I knew my theory was a little shaky—that was an awfully big risk that Ed took, paying someone to tamper with the brakes. But he was the sort of guy who took risks. He had to be, otherwise I doubted he’d be as successful as he was.
It was clear, though, I couldn’t bring this up with Stella. At least not yet. I would need to try to find some proof, some sort of irrefutable evidence. But how was I supposed to do that? I couldn’t ask her father. Would talking to Marty again help? Probably not; I felt like he had told me everything he knew that time we met up at the park. I couldn’t ignore things the way Stella was, though.
“Listen,” I said. “I just don’t want anything bad to happen to you. I would feel awful if it did. Especially if it was something that might’ve been preventable if someone had done something sooner.”
She came over and touched the side of my face. “You’re very sweet,” she said. She slid a little closer to me and tilted her head back a little, lips parted. I leaned in and kissed her.
“Mmm,” she murmured when we pulled back. “This is much better than talking about all of that, don’t you think?”
“Of course I’d rather do this than anything else.” And because she gave me that doe-eyed look and stuck her bottom lip out a little, I dropped the conversation and instead pressed my mouth against hers, our limbs entwining.
Chapter 28
Stella
I still hadn’t heard any good news back from any of the places I’d applied to. One of the retail stores had called and left a message and said that they didn’t have any openings at the moment, but would keep my application on file. I tried not to feel discouraged, and instead went back out again when Cole went into work.
This time, I expanded my search. I stopped at a dog daycare (not hiring), a hair salon (needed experience, even to be a receptionist), and a yarn shop (the woman only hired people referred to her by friends or customers, according to the girl behind the counter). I stopped in at a few more cafés, and then a restaurant called Cornucopia that I’d never been to before. It was a raw/live food restaurant in a funky building painted bright purple. Inside, though, everything was all warm tones and hues, with a bar running down the side of one wall, and tables with both chair and booth options. The sunlight streamed through the large picture window, bathing the planks of hardwood in warm light, making it look almost like melted honey. There were tapestries hanging on the walls, and dreamcatchers suspended from the exposed ceiling beams. The place was packed, and the food on people’s plates didn’t look half bad.
“Hi—table for one?” the hostess, a young girl with a septum piercing, asked.
“No, actually I was wondering if there was a manager here I could speak to?”
“Oh, sure,” she said. “That’d be Tim. Let me get him. One sec.”
As I stood there waiting, I looked through one of the menus. There was a whole page just for smoothies, and then another almost as long for salads, but there were also surprising things, such as burgers made from various nuts, seeds, and vegetables. I set the menu down just as the girl returned, a tall, lanky Nordic-looking guy behind her.
“Here he is!” she said.
“Hi, I’m Tim.” He held his hand out and I shook it, telling him my name.
“I was wondering if you’re hiring,” I said. You’d think after all the places I’d been into so far, I’d be used to asking, but I still felt a little wave of nervousness when I said it. “I’m looking for a job. And this place seems really cool.”
“Never been in before?” he asked.
Oops. Maybe I shouldn’t have said that. “No. But the food looks really good.”
“I’d like to think it is. Have any experience waiting tables?”
“I don’t, actually. But I’ve certainly been out to eat at plenty of restaurants, so I know what makes a good waitress—”
“Server,” he interrupted.
“Huh?”
“Server. That’s the term we use here. Waitress and waiter are too gender-specific.”
“Oh, right, of course. Yeah, then, so, no, I don’t have any experience as a server, but I’m a fast learner.”
He regarded me for a moment, not saying anything, like he was trying to tell if I was serious. I smiled and hoped I looked as capable as possible.
“Why don’t you write your name and number down,” he said. “And we’ll be in touch if we have any openings.”
He pulled a little notepad from his back pocket and set it down at an empty space at the bar and then walked down to where the cash register was and got a pen. “Here you go.”
I wrote down my information and gave the pad back to him, knowing that I wasn’t going to hear a word back from him, and that maybe I should’ve bent the truth a little—I had experience as a waitress, it had just been a really long time ago? But I didn’t want to lie. And there wouldn’t be a way for them to verify that information. I sighed.
“Okay,” I said. “I appreciate your time.”
I left, feeling deflated. My feet were starting to hurt. I couldn’t help but be aware of every store that I passed by, filled with employees, all people who had been able to go out and find a job.
I heard my phone buzz in my purse as I walked, and I pulled it out, hoping that it was Cole, or, if not Cole, one of the places I’d applied to. It wasn’t, though—it was a text from that unknown number.
You continue to make the wrong choices.
I waited to see if another message was going to follow, but it didn’t, so I decided to write back. This has gone on long enough. If you’re going to threaten me, at least have the guts to tell me WHO YOU ARE. Otherwise, I’m going to continue to ignore you because you’re obviously not worth my time if you can’t even tell me what your name is. Or why you keep sending me these ridiculous text messages. WHAT DO YOU WANT???
I sent it, hoping for a reply, knowing I wouldn’t get one.
***
The next day was Saturday, which meant Cole didn’t have to work and we could spend the whole day together. Part of me thought that I should get up and continue with the job search, but I decided it might be better to take a break, for at least today.
“What would my baby like to do today?” Cole asked, stretching. He had a happy, blissed-out smile on his face, that sort of postcoital glow that occurs after you have a really amazing orgasm, which we both just did. My whole body was buzzing pleasantly, and there was a part of me that was tempted to say, “Let’s just do this all day,” but I could tell it was beautiful outside and it would be a shame not to go out and enjoy the day.
“Let’s go be tourists,” I said. “Let’s go do sightseeing things.”
“Should I make us breakfast here, or should we go out to eat?”
“Let’s go out.” I paused. “Actually, maybe we should eat here.” I didn’t want to use my father’s credit card. Cole gave me a curious look.
“You saying that because you really want to taste my home cooking, or because you’re trying to be frugal? Because if it’s about frugality, get dressed, girl—it’ll be my treat.”
I laughed and gave him a kiss. “You’re the best.”
We got up and ready to go and then rode bikes down to a little café Cole knew about, where we drank strong, hot
coffee and ate Swedish pancakes with whipped cream, strawberries, and sliced almonds. When we were done there, Cole wanted to see if we could go find Jeremiah.
“It’s been a while since I last saw him, and I know he’ll be psyched to hear that we’re together! I told him a little about you,” he added.
“Oh, I know him,” I said.
Cole gave me a surprised look. “You do?”
“I might’ve played a game of chess with him before. Well, if you could call it chess. It was more me just moving pieces around at random.”
“Wait—when was this?”
“Let’s see... Not too long after you and I slept together the first time. And my mom threw your clothes out the window.”
“Right, that time. You went and saw him after that?”
“The next day. I was up really early, couldn’t sleep, ended up going for a walk. Somehow found myself in that area. And I recognized him, because I’d seen you with him before, playing chess. So we talked for a little.”
Cole smiled. “No kidding? I bet that made him really happy.”
“He’s a cool guy. I liked talking with him. In another life, I bet he would’ve made a really good psychologist.”
“He is really easy to talk to,” Cole said. “He gives great advice, too. He’s going to be so psyched when I tell him that things actually worked out between us. We’ll all have to go to Dottie’s. He won’t even believe that you can eat three of those pancakes!”
I laughed. That seemed like such a long time ago, though really it wasn’t. Perhaps it was just that so much had happened in that short period of time—things that I never would have thought could’ve happened.
We got on our bikes and cruised toward downtown. Cole rode behind me, saying that it made him feel safer that way, but he winked when he said it and I knew that part of it was just so he could check out my ass. Which was fine with me. I was full of delicious food, out riding a bike on a beautiful day, with my boyfriend. It was the simplest of scenarios, but it made me so happy that it almost felt like my heart was going to burst. This sort of feeling was incomparable to anything else, and something that all the money in the world could not buy.
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