by Beth Labonte
“Well, sure…but the money pushed them way over the edge. My fault.”
We drove for a while in silence while Riley tapped around on my Tesla’s touchscreen. “Which button makes us fly?”
“You sound like Uncle Burt,” I said, rolling my eyes. “It’s just a car.” I put on my right turn signal, making a fart sound come out of Riley’s seat.
“What the—”
“Geez, Riley. Couldn’t wait until you got home?”
“Not funny.”
“It’s actually very funny.”
I chuckled some more as he went back to tapping at the touchscreen. Finally, he found the setting for fart mode and turned it off.
“Romance mode?” he asked, noticing the other unique settings I had available.
“It just, um, puts a fireplace on the screen, dims the lights… turns up the heat.” I ran a hand through my hair. “You’re supposed to use it when you’re parked.”
“Ah.” He nodded, and we rode on in silence for a few more minutes.
“So,” he said, just after we’d passed the Welcome to Summerboro sign, "I heard a lot of bits and pieces about this Dean tonight. What’s the full story there?”
My stomach filled with nerves as I swung past Sweet Something, Peach’s Diner, and the town lake, my thumbs drumming against the steering wheel. What’s the full story there? Nobody outside of my family knew the entire story. Ideally, only Mom, Dad, and Meg would have ever known the truth, but then Mom went and blabbed everything to Aunt Carla over a bottle of chardonnay one night. I supposed I should tell Riley the whole story, since it was likely to come up over and over again, now that we were spending time with my über tactful family.
I took a deep breath, and began to talk. First, I told him the same things I’d told Amy—how I’d met Dean online, how I’d thought we were going to get married—right up until the point where I’d told her that he hopped a plane to Thailand. By that time, we’d arrived outside Riley’s house, so I put the car into park and I finished the story.
“We were on our first big trip together,” I said. “We’d just finished the first week out of a three-week trip to Australia. Everything had been going great, you know? And I’d thought, just from the way things had been going, that maybe this was it. I mean, we’d been dating for nearly two years, and like Granny said, I was basically waiting on him to propose. This trip…the timing…it was all so perfect.” I stared out of the windshield, focusing on the stop sign at the end of the street—trying to remember what it had felt like to be so happy and in love; to think that life could only get better.
“I feel a big but coming,” said Riley.
I turned to look at him, still embarrassed to finish, yet feeling oddly safe with just the two of us, alone, in my car. I glanced down at his left hand, resting on his leg, and I went on, “But then he was gone.”
“Gone?”
I nodded as all those panicky, sick feelings returned to my stomach. That first memory of waking up and thinking he was in the bathroom, and then later that maybe he’d gone out for coffee, and then later—
“He wasn’t answering his phone,” I continued. “And his wallet and his passport were gone, plus all of his clothes. It was super obvious to anybody with half a brain that he’d up and ditched me, but to me…I was just worried that something terrible had happened to him. I told the people at the hotel, and they called in the police—who thought I was a naïve fool, too, I could tell. I mean, nobody packs a suitcase while they’re being kidnapped, right? But I just didn’t want to admit it.” I took a deep breath. “The police, they eventually tracked his cell phone and his credit cards, and they told me that he’d flown to Bangkok. Checked into some fancy hotel…with a guest.” I flopped my head against the back of the seat and looked at Riley. “And I thought we were coming home engaged.”
“I am so sorry,” he said, looking back at me, his eyes intense but warm. “I had no idea. You…you didn’t deserve that.”
“Ya think?” I forced a smile.
“Can I ask how much he made off with?”
I sighed and pinched the bridge of my nose. “Before I tell you, you have to remember that we were together for two years. And that I was young and naïve and still had faith in the human race.”
“I’m not going to judge you, Josie. I was just curious. You don’t have to tell me.”
“No, it’s fine. So, with the money for his start-up company, plus the condo I bought him—which he sold, unbeknownst to me, right before our trip—plus all the other gifts I’d stupidly given him over the years—which was totally against everything my financial advisor ever told me…about half a million?”
Riley groaned.
“Not that half a million made a huge dent or anything,” I added. “It was more about, you know, being used.”
“I’m sorry,” he said again.
“And my mom, she obviously didn’t learn anything from my experience. She still tries to set me up with anybody and everybody. And my relatives, I think they actually find it funny.”
“That’s when all your fears started.”
I nodded. “Whenever I think about traveling, I feel so sick. It’s like I’m right back there in that hotel room, or on that long flight back home, all alone. But it worked out, in a way, because as long as I stay here in Autumnboro, where it’s safe, nothing bad will happen to me and my family won’t ever have to deal with the reality of having all this money. Now you know the reason I believe money warps people. It’s because I’ve seen it turn a nice, decent human being into someone willing to ditch his girlfriend in Australia.”
Riley’s face darkened. “You realize Dean wasn’t a good guy no matter what your financial circumstances, right?”
“That’s not true...”
“It is,” he said. “No nice, decent human being would’ve ditched you in Australia, Josie. No matter what. Dean was bad news. You were lucky he took half a million and ran.”
“Lucky?” I laughed. “Right. That’s a good one.”
“You were,” said Riley, fixing me with a fiery look that quickly stopped my laughter. “Even if you didn’t have a dime, no way did you deserve to spend your life with a guy like that.”
Oh. He looked so…offended. Almost angry that I hadn’t realized this for myself. I had the sudden urge to reach over and flick on Romance Mode, but kept my hands in my lap.
“I guess I never thought of it that way,” I said, softly. Was it true? Had Dean always been a jerk? I mean, Meg told me that he was, but I figured she was just trying to make me feel better after Australia. “So, um, are you around tomorrow night? If I need you?”
“Yeah,” he said, looking straight ahead and blowing out a deep breath “Sure. Just tell me where to be, and I’ll be there.”
“Thanks, Riley. You really helped me out tonight.”
“Well, I’ve got the trip of a lifetime on the line, so…”
“Even so.” I nudged him with my elbow. “You were a better sport than I thought you’d be.”
“No problem,” he said, opening the door and stepping out of the car. “Have a good rest of your night with the ghouls.” With a teasing smile, he slammed the door behind him. He was halfway to his building, when he turned around and jogged back. I held my breath as I lowered the passenger window.
“My phone?” he said, bending down and holding out his hand.
Right. I took it out of the glove compartment, noticing the three thousand game notifications on the screen. “Enjoy.”
Our fingers touched as I handed him the phone—which should have been no big deal, as we’d been fake holding hands all night—but my breath caught just the same, and I wondered if maybe he’d felt something, too.
Then he was gone from my window, back to his phone. Back to his real life, where I was nothing more than a convenient source of cash for a trip of a lifetime. I was a somewhat less convenient source of cash now that I’d asked this favor of him, but he was willing enough to play along. Dean had been wi
lling to play along, too, and for two entire years. At least this time, I was in on the act.
Chapter 15
After I returned home last night from dropping off Riley, I got straight down to the business of sleeping arrangements. I gave Granny the quietest and most comfortable of the spare bedrooms, making sure she was snugly tucked in with plenty of warm blankets, and giving her a tiny bell to ring in case she needed anything. Mom and Dad were given the second nicest spare room, with the electric fireplace and the faux bearskin rug. Audrey and Randy were relegated to the room at the back of the house, close to the tree with the howling fisher cats. Uncle Burt and Aunt Carla got the room directly over my home theater, and the floppy-haired duo were sent to sleep in the basement, where they could watch movies and play all the Xbox their hearts desired. I encouraged them to really crank up the volume as soon as they heard Uncle Burt snoring.
I was awoken at six o’clock in the morning by Uncle Burt belting out “Despacito” in the shower. His singing must have also woken up Quinn and Dylan, because I found them, soon after, in the kitchen making waffles in their underwear.
Let me rephrase that.
I found Dylan and Quinn in the kitchen using the waffle maker I’d ordered from In the Kitchen with David—the one I hadn’t even taken out of the box yet—to make waffles, while walking around in their boxer briefs. They’d dripped chocolate sauce, strawberries, and whipped cream all over the place, and kept flexing their pecs any time we made eye contact, which, believe me, I was keeping to a minimum. Audrey and Randy were also up early (the fisher cats had been quite vocal last night), dressed in matching bathrobes that they’d clearly stolen from a Marriott hotel. I found them flipping through a pile of credit card statements that I’d definitely left on the desk in my upstairs office. I ripped the statements out of their hands and stuffed them into my purse.
This was so not going to work.
By nine o’clock, I’d concocted a plan. Actually, the plan had been brewing in my mind ever since Granny said the word hotel yesterday. I had a key to The Autumnboro Inn burning a hole in my pocket, and several people that I refused to share my home with for the next week and a half. Granny, Mom, and Dad were welcome to stay here, of course. As for the rest of them? They were being relocated to the inn, whether they liked it or not. There were no personal items at the inn for them to nose through. Nobody to disturb with their singing, or their twitchy pectoral muscles, or their opinions on how I handled my finances. Nobody to disturb except for themselves. It would be glorious. Kit and Amy would never even need to find out. I’d make sure everybody was moved back into my house by Thanksgiving night, and I’d give the inn a thorough, bonus cleaning before the grand opening. It was a win-win.
The announcement was surprisingly well received. The only complaint came from Audrey and Randy, who wanted to be allowed over to my house to use the hot tub whenever they wanted. I talked them down to a maximum of three visits between the hours of five and seven p.m., and we had a deal.
I led the caravan into town, and made sure that everybody parked in the small lot behind the inn, where their cars wouldn’t be seen from the street. I couldn’t have it looking like the inn was open for business or anything. I found the room keys all hanging neatly from hooks behind the front desk. It was a very old-school way of doing things, but the wall of keys had been part of Rebecca’s Parker’s journal drawings, and so that was the way Kit had wanted it.
I had fun handing out keys and assigning rooms, despite the nagging little voice in my head telling me to call Kit to make sure this was actually okay. I showed everybody up to their rooms, and made sure the bathrooms were stocked with towels, soaps, and tiny bottles of pumpkin spice-scented shampoo and conditioner. He hadn’t asked for my opinion on a single thing having to do with this inn; he’d just taken my money and run. He owed me this much. I fluffed up the pillows and opened the blinds.
“I have to go over and open my store now,” I said, gathering everybody back into the sitting room for a brief meeting. “So, you’re on your own. There’s a grocery store not too far from here, and a mini mart just up the street. Please don’t break anything, or put your shoes on the furniture, or answer the phone. Just take it easy. Take a nap! Read a book!” If it was summer, or if there were snow on the ground, there would be plenty of outdoor activities they could do. But in the middle of November? Not so much.
I took one last look around. Uncle Burt had his feet up on the coffee table and was trying to turn on the television with the remote for the ceiling fan. Dylan and Quinn had wandered into the kitchen and turned on the garbage disposal. Aunt Carla was staring at the autumn-decorated Christmas tree with distaste, and poking at a scarecrow. Audrey and Randy were crouched down, peering into Tom’s model stagecoach, probably trying to figure out where the batteries went.
Maybe this was a bad idea. Although, the alternative—everybody living in my house for a week and a half—would be even worse. No, letting my family stay here was the least Kit could do to pay me back. If I called him to ask permission, it would just stress him out when he and Amy were finally getting some time off to relax.
Besides, like Moose said, I had more money than God. There wasn’t anything they could do to this place that I wouldn’t be able to fix.
I’d been walking around the store making a list of items to markdown for my Black Friday sale, when I heard a loud scuffling coming from the sidewalk outside. I was about to investigate, when the door burst open in a loud jangling of bells, and Dylan and Quinn tumbled inside.
“Hey, Josie,” said Quinn, pushing himself in front of Dylan.
“Hey, Josie,” said Dylan, ducking around Quinn and heading toward me, the floorboards creaking under his feet.
“Um, hey, guys,” I said. “Everything going okay at the inn?”
“Of course,” said Quinn. He’d darted ahead of Dylan and was now standing directly in front of me, his left elbow making a huge dent in a stack of tea towels he was leaning on. I yanked them out from under him. “I came by to take you to lunch.”
“Actually, I came by to take you to lunch,” said Dylan, who’d snuck around to my other side. He plucked a heavy cinnamon candle off the shelf and started tossing it from one hand to the other. “I was here first, but then this one showed up after he said he was staying home to watch Over the Top with your uncle. I’m willing to fight for you, Josie. You know that, right?”
“Is that what I heard outside? You two were fighting?”
“You’re worth it,” said Quinn. “I drove across three states to prove it to you.”
“Massachusetts and New Hampshire are neighbors,” I said, rolling my eyes and grabbing the candle out of Dylan’s hand. At least it wasn’t lit. “You two don’t even know me. The only reason you came up here is because my mother told you I was rich. And I’m pretty sure I’ve already made it clear that I have a boyfriend.”
“That guy?” said Dylan, following me over to the counter. “He was a total downer. A loser. He works at a funeral home.”
“You clean my mother’s pool.”
“That’s just a stepping stone! You and me, Josie, we could be a power couple someday. Just hear me out, I’ve got this great idea for an app…”
I rolled my eyes and looked over at Quinn. “Let me guess. You’ve got a great idea for an app too?”
“It’s for matching up middle-aged women with golf instructors,” he said, miming a golf swing. “The first thing they do is enter their favorite—”
“Stop!” I groaned. “Both of you! I’ve heard it all before, and I’m tired of it! I’m only letting you stay because my mother invited you, and I feel bad that you don’t have any other Thanksgiving plans, but that’s where it ends! Why don’t you two take a drive to North Woodstock for lunch? There’s a great brewery down there. Maybe you’ll meet someone who’s actually interested.”
I picked up my phone and typed a text message to Riley. I know it’s early, but can you swing by? I’d had enough of Dylan and Qu
inn, and I may as well get my money’s worth out of this fake boyfriend deal. Riley almost immediately texted back a thumbs-up emoji. Thank goodness.
I put my phone down and opened my laptop. I pretended to order some inventory, while Dylan and Quinn—totally not taking the hint—continued filling me in on their various life accomplishments (Quinn inherited his dead grandma’s Mercedes; Dylan once saw Nicki Minaj at the airport). I couldn’t believe my mother thought I’d be better off with one of these dopes, rather than remaining single for eternity.
Less than ten minutes later, the bells jingled as Riley walked through the door. He brushed off Dylan and Quinn with a glance, before turning to me with a smile that stopped my heart. He must’ve been working on it during his walk over, because the act was flawless. He looked genuinely delighted to see me, as if the best part of his day was currently in progress.
“Hey, you,” he said, walking behind the counter and up to my stool. With one hand on my back, he planted a kiss on the top of my head.
“Hey, you,” I said, smiling up at him, a bit stunned. The place where his lips had been felt all tingly. I hadn’t been expecting that, though I couldn’t complain. I reached out and took his hand, lifted it to my lips, and planted a kiss on the back. If everything were different, I could definitely get used to this. “Ready for lunch?”
“Ready.”
“Okay, everybody out!” I said, with renewed determination. I slid off my stool, grabbed my coat, and started shepherding a grumbling Dylan and Quinn toward the door.
“After you,” said Riley, fixing each of them with an intense stare until they’d exited ahead of him. As soon as I’d locked the door behind us, he picked up a large shovel that had been leaning against the building, and hefted it over his shoulder. Several clumps of grass and dirt fell to the ground.
I raised my eyebrows. “What’s that for?”
“I felt like digging a few graves after lunch,” he said, looking from me, to Dylan and Quinn. Their eyes widened as they took several steps back, then they both turned and hurried off down the sidewalk.