Know Me Well

by Kait Nolan

  Riley wasn’t crying, but she was obviously close. Her face was dead white, and she was shaking. Somewhere along the way she’d gotten rid of the sweater. Liam hoped it hadn’t been damaged.

  He took her by the shoulders. “Look at me.” When she didn’t move, he tipped her face toward his himself. “I’m going to fix this.”

  “I don’t—”

  “Riley, don’t argue with me. This is my fault. The damn thing was ancient and has been on the list of things to replace. I didn’t get to it fast enough. I’ll fix it. I swear.” He could offer her that, at least.

  It was a mark of her level of upset that she didn’t argue, merely gave a reluctant nod. She took a hiccuping breath and pressed her forehead to his chest. But before he could wrap his arms around her, pull her in, she straightened and turned away, mechanically going through the motions of trying to salvage what she could of her business.

  Cursing himself and the situation, Liam wondered if he had any more likelihood of salvaging his chances with her.

  Chapter 8

  Riley’s shoes were sopping. They’d rubbed blisters on her heels and the instep of one foot. The hems of her pants had mostly dried, but in the heavy, humid air inside pharmacy, everything felt damp and sticky. Exhausted, heartsick, she methodically counted the boxes of ruined over-the-counter allergy meds and marked the tally down on the inventory sheet before she added them to a bag for proper disposal.

  It seemed like half the town had sprung into action at Liam’s call for help. But it wasn’t enough. Everything was falling apart.

  Above her, the ceiling gaped open, the occasional drip of water hitting her shoulders and head like spittle from some kind of hellmouth. The variable-width wood floors, original to the century-old building, were warped and buckled. Though water no longer stood in puddles, it had wicked up the drywall, which was more like wetwall now, the top layer bubbling and peeling in places. Chunks had been removed to allow the air to circulate, so that the fans and dehumidifiers could do their job, which would take days. The insulation that dangled reminded Riley of nothing so much as the guts of her business, spilling out of a mortal wound.

  It was an apt comparison. How much revenue had been lost today? How much would be lost tomorrow, while they were closed so that more clean up could proceed and the remaining displays rearranged for some kind of functional layout? How much stock had she lost that insurance wouldn’t cover because of the deductible?

  Thinking about the numbers had a migraine pricking behind her eyes, which didn’t at all help the tears she’d been fighting all day. At least she’d be alone soon if they spilled over.

  “The claims adjuster on the building insurance will be here tomorrow,” Molly announced, coming out of the office. “We should have a check to cover the damages pretty quickly.”

  Liam emerged from the storeroom, his clothes a patchwork of wet and drywall dust from where he’d been ripping open walls. “That’s something, though I can’t get started on repairs until things dry out.”

  “You can get started figuring out how much you’ll need of materials and make arrangements to get them here. That way you’ll have a plan and be ready to hit the ground running as soon as they clear out all these fans.” Molly wrapped an arm around Riley’s shoulders. “We’re going to get this taken care of.”

  “I know.” God she missed having Molly take an active hand in the business. Sliding an arm around her waist, Riley leaned in for a hug. “My priority tomorrow is to get things arranged into whatever temporary state we’re going to have to live in so that the business can still open. Revenues aside, people need their medications. I already started a box of products from the front to donate to the women’s shelter. There’s a fair bit of stuff that had damaged packaging, but the contents are still usable. It might as well go to somewhere it can still be used instead of in the trash. I’d like to take that over tomorrow, too.”

  “That’s a good idea. Meanwhile, I’m pulling mom rank on both of you. Jessie and Ruby actually listened when I sent them home an hour ago. Let’s all get out of here and go home. Get some sleep. We’re all exhausted, and there’s nothing more we can do here tonight.”

  Riley had absolutely no desire to go home. With her mom in residence, it was no longer her sanctuary. She just couldn’t handle Sharilyn’s well-meaning concern on top of her own worries. But Molly was right. She couldn’t stay here.

  “I’ll walk you to your car,” Liam said.

  Was this another attempt to talk to her alone? If it was, Riley wasn’t interested. She couldn’t take anything else tonight.

  “That’s really not necessary.”

  “It’s late, Riley.”

  “And last time I checked, the only person skulking around and scaring me to death lately was you.”

  Molly gave her another quick squeeze. “Humor your other mother. You’re parked at the other end of the block, it’s dark, and I raised him to be a gentleman.”

  How was she supposed to argue with that? “Yes, ma’am.”

  The three of them walked out together, locking the door against the engine roar of a dozen fans. Riley could feel the faint vibration against the glass. She was pretty sure she’d hear the drone in her sleep. If she managed to sleep.

  Molly opened her car door. “See you in the morning, honey. I’ll bring pastries from Sweet Magnolias for breakfast.”

  “Then I’ll bring coffee.” Lifting her hand in a wave, Riley watched Molly drive off.

  Resigned to having an escort, she started walking.

  Liam stayed quiet. Grateful for the reprieve, she listened to the echo of their footsteps as it mixed with the symphony of night insects and the sound of a car on a nearby street. After the tumult of the day, the summer silence soaked into her bones, unknotting something in her gut.

  At her car, Riley turned toward Liam to see him reaching out for her. “Don’t.”

  He stopped, one hand outstretched, hurt flickering over his face before he shut down to stoic mode again.

  “I’ll fix it, Riley. I’m going to make this right.”

  He thought she blamed him for all of this.

  She tried to soften the rejection with an apologetic smile. “I know you will. You’re not at fault here. It’s just that, if you hug me right now, I’m going to start crying, and I really don’t have time for that.” Never mind the fact that curling up in his arms and bawling sounded pretty amazing.

  For a moment, she thought he’d ignore her wishes and pull her into his arms as he had weeks before. A part of her wished he would so she could let go of the burden she carried, just for a little while. But he didn’t move.

  “I’m sorry.”

  Riley had the sense that he was apologizing for more than the soggy disaster that was her business, but she absolutely couldn’t deal with that right now. She didn’t want his apology for not being on the same page as she was. She just wanted him to pretend it hadn’t happened. Someday, she’d get past the lingering mortification over the kiss he hadn’t returned. But that day was somewhere far off in the future.

  Still, she hated seeing him miserable too, so she made an effort to be the friend he wanted. “You’ve already helped so much. I can’t imagine how much worse things would’ve been if you hadn’t taken charge in the chaos.”

  His level-headed dependability had taken some of the pressure off so that she could actually do what needed doing on the business side as quickly as possible. The prescription drugs were protected, insurance had been notified, and as much stock as possible had been salvaged. Things were bad, but because of him, they weren’t a complete loss. She needed to remember that.

  “The fact is, I’m really glad you were here.” Riley realized she meant it. And she wasn’t at all sure how she felt about that.

  Liam shifted toward her. “You want to get a drink? I figure we can both use one after today.”

  What she wanted was a long soak and a week to sleep. But those weren’t in the cards either. She shook her head. “As
you said, it’s late. And there’s lots to do tomorrow. I should head home. Thank you for helping today.”

  “I wish I could’ve done more.”

  Riley couldn’t stop herself from laying a hand on his arm. “You kept a level head. And that helped me keep mine. The rest can be fixed, and I know I can rely on you to do it. So stop beating yourself up for not being omniscient and knowing what was going to happen.”

  His lips twitched in a humorless smile. “Didn’t you know? As the oldest, I’m supposed to be all-seeing, all-knowing.”

  “You’ve got that confused. That’s your mother’s job. Now go home and go to bed, Boy Scout. We’ve got a busy week ahead of us.”

  “That we do. Get some sleep, Riley Marie.”

  As she drove away, Riley thought maybe now she actually would.

  ~*~

  Liam measured the stretch of wall a third time, making a notation on a small notepad before moving over to the miter saw to cut the next piece of moulding. He just wanted to finish up the bedroom before he called it a day and headed out to Judd’s place for poker night. The guys would provide a much needed distraction.

  In the week since the flood, he’d replaced the water heater, ripped out damaged flooring and walls in the closet that housed it, and generally eradicated evidence that anything had even gone wrong. The apartment was coming along nicely. The pharmacy below…not so much. He’d ripped out drywall down there, pulled down large chunks of the ceiling and wet insulation to help speed the drying process, but the shop was still filled with fans and dehumidifiers. He could hear the drone of them from up here.

  Business was open, and, though it wasn’t as usual, it was keeping Riley and his mother plenty busy. They’d managed to set up a narrower floor plan with the displays they had, funneling foot traffic away from the worst of the buckled flooring so that customers could get to the counter without injuring themselves. There’d been plenty of people coming through rubber necking the mess, but Liam knew not all of them were actually buying stuff. And the new Walgreens had opened. If he hadn’t seen the ancient, rusted water heater himself, he’d have had Wishful PD looking into the coincidental timing of the flood in relation to their grand opening. As it was, Riley was winding tighter by the day.

  Liam didn’t know how to help her. He’d done everything he could to help things dry faster, and he already had supplies on order down at Edison Hardware so he could dive in with the crew he’d assembled as soon as they were given the all clear. She trusted him to do all that, but she wouldn’t lean on him for anything else. And she sure as hell wasn’t giving him the opportunity for a conversation of a more personal nature. At this point, he didn’t know whether she was avoiding him out of embarrassment or if she’d changed her mind and wished she hadn’t kissed him at all.

  The compressor roared to life as he positioned the trim along the edge of one of the newly hung double-paned windows and lifted the nail gun. Kshunk. Kshunk. Kshunk. He ran a hand down the fluted moulding, feeling a sense of satisfaction that he’d managed to find some double-paned windows that maintained the character of the building, without the inefficiencies of the originals.

  As the compressor kicked off, he heard footsteps and a female voice calling out, “Liam?”

  “Back here.”

  A moment later, Norah Burke stuck her head into the room. “You’ve been busy.”

  “Making progress anyway. What brings you by? If Mom’s not downstairs, I don’t know where she’s gone off to.”

  “I’m here to talk to you, actually.”

  “About?”

  “How ’bout you give me the fifty-cent tour, and I’ll tell you about it?”

  “It’s more like the nickel tour. You’ve already been through most of it just to get back here.”

  “Yeah, but I didn’t get commentary on what you’ve done.”

  Shrugging, Liam took her through, explaining what had been ripped out, what had been replaced. He answered her questions about the bits of restoration he’d managed in keeping with the history of the century old building, modernizations he’d made without sacrificing the original character of the space, and described the rest of his plans.

  “About the only decision I have to make now is whether the cabinet boxes in the kitchen are worth salvaging or if I want to build from scratch.”

  Norah’s deep brown eyes lit with interest. “You can do that?”

  “Sure.”

  “Babette Wofford tells me you’re going to be doing some work for her, too.”

  “She seems to have made up her mind about that, and I haven’t even seen her space yet.”

  “She likes your work. She’s the one who sent me over here.”

  “You ready to tell me what for?”

  “I have a Plan.”

  Liam laughed. “You always have a plan with a capital P. What’s this one?”

  “We’ve made some good strides with the Shop Local campaign and the downtown facelift from back in the spring, as well as working on getting the new website off the ground to promote rural tourism here. Part of that deals with the history of Wishful. We’re lucky that such a significant chunk of downtown remains from the turn of the last century. Most small towns in Mississippi don’t have that. I want to do what we can to preserve what’s left and to restore the things that can be restored. I’m working on a proposal to put before both the Chamber of Commerce and the City Council regarding covenants about the kind of architecture that can be used downtown for future projects, so that the whole thing can retain the charm it’s got, while we work on refreshing everything else. I’d like to be able to recommend you for the job.”

  Surprise struck him momentarily silent. Him do long-term historic restoration? When his gut didn’t immediately discount the idea, Liam crossed his arms and studied her. “Why me?”

  “You appreciate history. That’s obvious in how you’ve dealt with this place. I think you’ll see and agree with my vision. Plus, I like your work ethic and results. You’re more concerned with doing something right than with doing it the fastest, cheapest way.”

  “No sense in doing something if you aren’t going to take the time to do it right.”

  “Exactly. The project would be long-term and could be a really good fit for your skillset.”

  “You know I’m not a licensed contractor, right?”

  “A formality easily dealt with if you want. You don’t have to make a decision right yet. I know you need to finish the work here and at the pharmacy. Just think about it.” She headed for the door. “I’ll get out of your hair so you can finish up. You’ll be late for poker night. I have it on good authority that Mitch is ripe for the fleecing.”

  Liam grinned. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

  He finished trimming out the last of the windows before washing up at the kitchen sink and changing into the clean t-shirt and shorts in his gym bag, packed for the workout he hadn’t gotten around to that morning. He was already late by the time he slipped into his truck. Running a fresh bead of caulk around all four windows had taken a bit longer than he’d expected. He could’ve put it off until tomorrow, but that part of the job didn’t feel finished without it.

  Judd lived about ten miles out from town, in a fixer upper on the banks of Hope Springs. The cedarwood board and batten siding was silvered with age, and the exterior was a testament to a style of architecture that held no characteristics worth preserving, but Liam couldn’t find fault with the location. The sun was sinking low, gilding the little pier with its Adirondack chairs as he pulled up behind Mitch’s truck. He could absolutely understand the appeal of living out here.

  The card table was set up on the screened in porch, ceiling fans stirring the humid air, scented with good tobacco—which explained why they were outside.

  “Cigar night?” Liam let the screen door slap shut behind him.

  Judd’s enormous mutt, Boudreaux, some kind of bloodhound mix, lifted his head and thumped his massive tail.

  “I got definitivel
y put on the short list for the position as Chief. Seemed worth celebratin’,” Judd told him around the stogie clamped between his teeth.

  Liam bent to scratch Boudreaux between the ears. “Congrats.”

  Mitch kicked back in his chair, the green plastic visor denoting him dealer for the night. “Didn’t expect to see you tonight.”

  “Got as far as I can with the demolition in the pharmacy until things dry out. Should go quicker now that I’ve opened up the walls. I got a bit delayed by your future cousin-in-law.”

  “What’s Norah trying to wrangle you into?”

  “Tell you about it in a bit. Is there food?”

  “We got bucket o’cluck and beer in the kitchen,” Judd told him. “Might even be some cole slaw and mashed potatoes left, if Reuben didn’t wipe them out.”

  Reuben snorted. “I got access to good cole slaw from my mama. You think I’m gonna waste my time with take out?”

  Liam grabbed a beer from the fridge, nabbed the last of the fried chicken and potatoes, and took his place at the table.

  “Want me to deal you in?” Mitch asked.

  “Next hand. What do you know about Norah’s Grand Plan for the historic restoration of downtown?”

  Mitch dealt the flop. “Like all Norah’s schemes, it’s big. She and her intern Cecily have been working on grants to help fund various and sundry projects. I’ve helped with that some, giving them estimates of labor and materials and the kind of scope they’ll be looking at once they actually get into things.”

  The others tossed in their chips.

  “She wants to pitch me as the man for the job.”

  Mitch arched his brows as he dealt the next card. “Yeah? I hadn’t thought of that, but it’s actually pretty brilliant.”

  “You think?”

  Judd examined the turn, burned two cards, and took two more into his hand before seeing the bet. “Seems like a good fit. Even when we were kids you were always more into fixing the old instead of buying new.”