“But it doesn’t look like Beau’s house.” She wondered belatedly if that would bother him. Hops was wandering the floor as if doing his own walk-through, his little tail wagging.
He shrugged and turned to face her. “But it’s not Beau’s house anymore. It’s yours. And you don’t have as many memories here, so there’s no nostalgia for you. Just a clean slate.” He made it sound like a good thing, but she still felt a little guilty. According to Dottie, Beau had considered giving River his house too. Georgie suddenly felt like Beau’s grandkids had taken everything from him. Like she had taken everything from him.
Would he see it that way too?
“Hey,” he said, wrapping an arm around her back and pulling her close. “Adalia should be on a plane by now. She’ll be here before you know it.”
She buried her face into his chest, feeling even worse. How could she ever make it up to him? The only thing she knew to do was stick to her original plan and buy out her siblings in a year so she could make him an official partner.
But even so, she had to tell him before that, didn’t she? How else would she live with the guilt?
He held her and gently rubbed her back. “Do you want to eat or work? Or just stand here and let me hold you?”
What she needed was to get herself together. Leaning back, she cocked her eyebrows. “What kind of pizza?”
“I wasn’t sure what you’d like, so I got a half cheese and half pepperoni.”
“I say you open that bottle of wine while I open the pizza.” Then, with a dramatic flourish as though her task was as hard as his, she opened the box and pulled out a slice of pepperoni. She took a bite and moaned. “This is so good.”
He grinned. “Well, if that impresses you, wait until you get a look at what I got for Jezebel.”
“So you brought both of your girls some treats?”
His wink sent a bolt of lust and remembered pleasure through her. “I promise you’re my favorite.”
Turned out he’d brought some groceries too—some milk, coffee, eggs, another bottle of wine, along with some cheese and bread, and a few tins of sardines to lure Jezebel. Georgie put her pizza on a plate and helped bring them inside.
“I can’t say I approve of this plan,” she said, scrunching her nose. “It’s going to smell terrible if we leave that out.”
“And that awful aroma is sure to draw her home,” he said with a grin. “Beau used to give her these for a treat. It’s the devil cat’s version of catnip.”
“If this is such a slam dunk, why didn’t you try it before?”
He made a face. “I was worried she might show up and attack the contractors. As you’ve seen, she doesn’t take kindly to finding people in ‘her’ house.”
Which surely didn’t bode well for Georgie and Adalia.
Soon they were sitting out on the back porch, like they had that first night, eating pizza and sipping wine. A feeling of peace stole over Georgie. It felt like this was how it was supposed to be all along, like she’d spent the last two weeks fighting herself for no good reason at all.
“I didn’t know you drank wine,” she teased, nudging his shoulder. “Isn’t that kind of sacrilegious?”
He nudged her back. “You’re right. It’s sacrilegious for either of us to drink it. I guess I should bring the other bottle home with me.”
When they finished eating, River set out an open can of sardines on the back porch. Georgie had given him permission to try it once, with the agreement that he would be the one to remove the smelly fish if Jezebel (or worse, something else) didn’t get to it first.
“Maybe the neighbors will stop texting me at all hours,” River said. “The latest rumor going around is that Jezebel is a black panther escaped from Beau’s backyard exotic zoo.”
After cleaning up their dishes, they went upstairs and started changing the beds together, Georgie more than a little tempted to pull him onto one, but she checked the time and realized she had to go to the airport.
“You go get your sister,” River said, leading her to the bedroom door. “I’ll finish up here.”
She hesitated. While she absolutely loved that he’d dropped by to help, she didn’t want him to be here when she brought Adalia home. She and Adalia had too much ground to cover, plus she needed time to tell her sister about him first.
He grabbed both of her shoulders and held her gaze. “I promise that Hops and I will be gone when you get back.”
She looked away, feeling ungrateful. “River. I’m not ashamed of you.”
“I know. But this isn’t the way to tell your sister. You need to focus on her and what happened. We have time.” He gave her a soft kiss. “I’m not going anywhere.” Then he smiled. “Except for tonight, obviously.”
She laughed and rested her hand on his chest, savoring the feel of him.
Maybe love itself wasn’t toxic at all. Maybe her mother had just picked the wrong man.
She left River on Beau’s front porch, but not until after he kissed her so thoroughly her body ached to stay with him and finish what they’d started. He gave her a wave while Hops chewed on his shoestring, and then the two of them went back inside.
What would it be like to come home to River?
The thought caught her by surprise. But it was even more surprising how right it felt.
When Georgie got to the Asheville Regional Airport, she waited outside the security exit, nervous about seeing her baby sister. While she’d talked to Adalia twice during the day, both calls had been short, and they hadn’t talked about anything of substance. The unspoken understanding was that they’d do all their sharing once they saw each other. Besides, there’d been plenty for Adalia to do as she packed and squared things away to stay in Asheville for the indefinite future.
A group of people began trickling out of the doors, and then Georgie saw her. Adalia’s short blond hair was a mess, and she had red puffy eyes underscored with dark circles. She carted a rolling carry-on suitcase behind her, and something about her gaze searching for Georgie in the crowd made her look like a lost child. As soon as Adalia saw her, she took off running, barely stopping before she threw her arms around Georgie and began crying.
Georgie stumbled backward a few feet, absorbing her impact, then held on tight, her worry for her sister growing exponentially by the second.
“I’m so sorry,” Adalia cried into her shoulder.
“Hey,” Georgie said as she pulled back and smoothed the hair off Adalia’s cheek. “We’re gonna fix this, okay?”
Adalia looked up at her with hazel eyes so wide with hope Georgie couldn’t help but wonder what it was she’d done.
They collected her two large suitcases and wrestled them into the back of Georgie’s Lexus—which had been delivered a few days prior—then headed back to Beau’s house.
Five minutes of silence ticked away before Georgie asked the obligatory How was your flight? question, and Adalia announced she’d sat next to someone with terrible B.O. Finally, her sister asked, “Aren’t you going to grill me about what happened?”
Georgie started to answer, then stopped, darting a quick glance at Adalia before returning her attention to the road. “You’ll tell me when you’re ready.”
They got home, and each of them rolled one of the suitcases to the house. Georgie had learned her lesson after the disaster with Josie. Thank God, River had saved so much of her stuff. A smile came to her lips.
“Who is he?” Adalia asked with narrowed eyes.
Georgie’s heart nearly leaped out of her chest, but she managed to hide it, she thought.
“What are you talking about?” she asked as she unlocked the front door.
“Okay, I’ll let it go for now,” Adalia said as she followed her in. “But expect an interrogation later. Just like I’m waiting for mine.”
Georgie stopped and turned to her sister. “There will be no interrogation from me later. I meant it, Addy. You tell me when you’re ready. I’m just glad you’re here.”
They carted the bags upstairs, and Georgie showed her the bedroom she’d picked out for her, a room whose windows looked out onto the backyard. River had turned on a lamp on the bedside table, giving it an inviting look.
“It reminded me of a tree house. I remembered how you always wanted one when we were kids,” Georgie said, now feeling foolish—then horrified when Adalia’s eyes filled with tears. “We can exchange rooms, if you like. Or you can have one of the other two.”
Adalia shook her head. “No. I love it.”
Relief rushed through Georgie’s body and she sagged against a dresser. At least she’d gotten this one thing right. “Okay. Good.”
Adalia set her suitcase down at the end of the bed and stared out the window. “Why aren’t you yelling at me? Or telling me what a screwup I am?”
“Because you are not a screwup,” Georgie said insistently. “You made a mistake. We’ll fix it.”
“Dad would be furious. And Lee…” She released a sob and sat on the bed, still looking out the windows. “He knew what was happening, but he would never understand this.”
Georgie bit back the urge to ask why Adalia hadn’t come to her before, but she must have had her reasons and Georgie’s hurt feelings had no place here. Besides, River was right—when it had mattered, Adalia had come to her. “Well, I’m glad you noticed I’m not like Dad or Lee,” she said with a small laugh. “We may all be in business, but I handle things very differently than they do.”
Adalia turned back to face her with bloodshot eyes. “I know. I realized that when the three of us had breakfast. You were so passionate about the brewery. Dad and Lee might be good at what they do, but they’re never passionate about it. But you…” She cringed and her gaze lowered to the vintage white chenille bedspread, her fingertips rubbing absentmindedly over the bumps. “I figured you were like Dad, all cold and businessy. I guess I was wrong.”
Georgie couldn’t suppress her laugh. “Businessy?”
Adalia looked up with a grin. “You know. Like you have a stick up your ass.”
Georgie nodded, still laughing. “Okay.” She sat on the bed next to her sister. “You usually see me when I’m with Dad and/or Lee, and I guess I’m different when I’m with them. I act like I think they want me to act. That’s not the real me. It’s maybe who they want me to be.”
As she said the words, she knew they were true. How had she never realized that before?
Adalia reached over and took her sister’s hand. “That’s sad, Georgie.”
“I know,” she whispered.
“Seeing the light in your eyes when you talked about the brewery made me realize you were much more like Mom and me than I gave you credit for.”
Georgie’s eyes flew wide. “You think I’m like Mom?”
The thought made her equally elated and terrified. Her mother had been warm and open, the kind of person people gravitated toward. She’d also become their father’s doormat.
Adalia nodded. “More than I realized. I’m sorry.”
Georgie shook her head. “No. I tried to be the kind of person Dad would find impressive, but it doesn’t fit me well.”
“So maybe you should stop trying,” Adalia said. “Just be you and to hell with what anyone thinks.”
Didn’t she know it. She was getting there, but it was so much easier said than done.
Adalia turned serious. “You’re still not going to ask me what happened?”
Georgie rubbed the back of Adalia’s hand with her thumb. “No. You’ll tell me when you’re ready.”
“I’m ready,” she whispered.
“I’m listening.”
Adalia poured her heart out. Alan Stansworth, her mentor from art school, had invited her to work in his large studio since she had limited space in her small apartment. Soon after she started working in his studio, he started taking a special interest in her mixed media sculptures. They worked together and eventually slept together, and the closer they got, the more controlling he became.
It was then some of her pieces started disappearing. He told her that space was so limited in the studio, he’d had them moved to his storage unit. He was doing her a favor. Why was she picking a fight when he was just trying to help her? It continued for a couple of months, until Adalia was missing over twenty pieces of art. She’d sought advice from Lee, who had been helpful and encouraging, but he’d told her that he couldn’t really help unless she ended things with Alan. She’d tried, but their relationship had become a vicious cycle, just like their parents’ marriage had been. Alan would fall all over himself to apologize to her, then he’d shower her with gifts and attention, until a few days later he’d shift to being berating and controlling. He’d cut her off from her friends in New York and had pitched a fit when she’d come to Asheville for the funeral, saying she was losing precious time she should spend focusing on her art.
“Oh, Addy,” Georgie said through her tears. “I’m so sorry. I had no idea.”
Adalia shook her head, wiping her face with the back of her hand. “Alan had gotten a showing at Michael Roe, a very coveted gallery. He was so secretive about the whole thing, and I had no idea what he was showing. I hadn’t seen him work on anything of note in months. So on a whim, I stopped by to visit the gallery yesterday evening while they were setting up for the opening tomorrow night.” She choked on a sob as she looked up at her sister. “They were my sculptures, Georgie. He’d stolen my art and put his name on it.”
“Oh, Addy!” Georgie gasped, her mind reeling. “We’ll get an attorney and file an injunction. We’ll stop him from—”
Adalia’s eyes went dead inside. “There’s no point, Georgie.”
Then the horrible truth dawned on her. Adalia had vandalized her own art. She scooped her sister into her arms and held on tight. “Addy, I’m so, so sorry.”
How had it come to this? To Adalia destroying the very thing she’d loved?
Adalia began to sob. “He told me that I could protest all I wanted, but who would the art world believe? Me, a flighty, twenty-something art school dropout—”
“Wait. You dropped out of art school?”
“—or a well-known, revered artist? He said I had no hope of winning. That I should just be grateful he’d thought my work worthy of exposure.”
Georgie grabbed her sister’s upper arms and leaned back to look at her. “Go back to the part about you leaving art school.”
“I had over a hundred thousand dollars in student loans. I couldn’t afford the last year.”
Georgie felt like she was going to be sick. That was partially her doing. If she’d stood up for her sister, her father might have relented. She’d pay off those loans in an instant, but she knew Adalia wouldn’t let her. That suggesting it would be akin to pushing her away. “I’m sorry.”
“You keep saying you’re sorry, but you have nothing to be sorry for,” Adalia said, sounding exhausted. “You’re not the one who threw paint all over Alan’s exhibits.”
“You threw paint on them?”
A wicked gleam filled her eyes. “Every last one.”
Georgie squeezed her arms, then released her. “As your big sister, I know I should be telling you that we should have handled this legally, but part of me wants to say good for you, except they were your pieces, Addy.” Then a new thought hit her. “Over one hundred thousand dollars?”
She’d always semi-dismissed Adalia’s art, but it was obvious she was very good. She felt gutted by her own shame.
Adalia shook her head. “It doesn’t matter. And I’m not sorry. Not for one second. They weren’t mine anymore. They were tainted after Alan claimed them.” She sobered. “Just like I am. I can never go back to New York. My reputation is ruined.”
Georgie’s heart broke for her. “But what about your art show? The one you were telling me and Lee about?”
“A lie Alan told me,” she said, tears filling her eyes again. “To keep me too busy to notice what he was doing.”
Georgie was going to find
the best lawyer to destroy Alan Stansworth, but she couldn’t do it until tomorrow. Tonight she was going to baby the crap out of her sister. “I think we need wine. And I have some leftover pizza.”
“Wine?” Adalia asked with a wry grin. “Shouldn’t we be drinking Buchanan Beer?”
“About that. There’s plenty I need to tell you too, starting with what really happened in this house after the séance.”
Adalia’s eyes lit up, like she knew she was about to be the recipient of some high-quality gossip, and they both slid off the bed. But they didn’t get very far before the high-pitched screech of a cat came from the backyard. “Jezebel!”
“Jezebel?” Adalia asked. “Do I want to know?”
There was more screeching and the sound of metal clanging against something.
Georgie made a face. “Something tells me you’re about to find out, whether you like it or not.”
Chapter Thirty-Four
Part of River wanted to text Georgie, just to make sure Adalia had gotten in okay. He felt anxious for her, knowing how badly she wanted things to work out with her sister. He took out his phone to turn on the ringer, something he habitually kept off now that his number was common knowledge, and saw there were several texts from Finn.
He ticked his hand against the phone, thinking about ignoring them like he had the others, but it had occurred to him earlier, at Eye of the Tiger, that things might not be going so well for Finn. That maybe he was having a hard time too. And sure, he was the one who’d made the decision to sell, but even so…
He clicked through.
River, I know you’re mad, man. But I need to tell you something. I think you’d want to hear it from a friend.
OK, I could practically see the expression on your face when you read that. But I AM your friend, like it or not.
Holy shit, I just saw Jezebel.
Another text came through while he read that last one: I’m on the move. Still have that crate from when Maisie suckered me into fostering that tiny dog with the bladder issue. Stay tuned.
Leave it to Finn to write a book while chasing a cat. Well, there was no ignoring that. Or at least Aunt Dottie would never forgive him if he did, and Beau would probably start showing up in his dreams for not-so-encouraging reasons.
Any Luck at All: Asheville Brewing #1 Page 26