A New Leaf (Hemlock #1)

Chapter 12

Chapter Twelve

Charlie

My favorite part of the night has arrived.

The part of the night where I ruminate on my couch while listening to my dog snore.

All I can think about is Finn and his obnoxiously charming smile. Along with my abrupt exit, my brain is running in circles with questions. Does he hate me now because I left too fast? What if he thinks I’m weird? Will he change his mind about me?

Amidst the spiral in my mind, one sentence cuts through the anxious thoughts.

Next time, bring her.

He said that in such a low, rumbly tone that I think some parts of my brain stopped functioning. It’s been so long, almost a year, since I’ve felt any kind of strong emotion at all.

Grief is like the weather. Sometimes, it’s just this weird fog that follows you around as you go about your day, and other times, it’s a category five hurricane. All of your emotions are dulled yet heightened at the same time. Plus, when you add on the responsibility of looking after a store that keeps your parents’ memory alive and a sappy dog, everything seems heavier.

There are two versions of me. The one that existed before experiencing a tragic loss and the one that exists now after experiencing said tragic loss.

Even though I’m the middle child, I’ve always been the one to keep an eye out for my siblings—even while we were growing up. My parents dubbed me “the responsible one” ever since I admitted to reading the terms and conditions on websites.

In my defense, you can never be too careful when your information is at risk of being collected and distributed to who-knows-where.

Now, since we’re adult orphans, I feel like I’ve taken on the parental figure role for my brother and sister. For the last year, there has been a constant stream of calls, texts, and random shop visits from them about anything and everything. My sister once called me for advice on how to cook boxed macaroni and cheese.

Don’t get me wrong, I love my siblings; I would help them commit semi-illegal crimes.

But sometimes, they exhaust me, and I would like a small break. Which brings my thoughts back to the floppy-haired Finn, as I absentmindedly pet Vera’s head and stare at the ceiling. In the few encounters I’ve had with Finn, I feel as if he’s softening something inside of me.

Which terrifies me.

I’ve never been described as “soft” in my life.

Abrasive? Yes.

Steely? Sure.

Cranky? Duh.

But why do I feel like part of me can just relax around him? It’s almost as if my brain can power down for a bit and there’s nothing left in the world to worry about.

Despite only knowing him for a little while, being in his presence has eased some of the mental and emotional burdens I carry. There’s an unmistakable air about him that I can’t quite put my finger on.

What an interesting effect he has on me.

“What am I actually doing with my life,” I whisper to myself as I stroke Vera’s soft, golden fur. Unsurprisingly, her response is a judgmental groan.

At least she’s a dog who matches my energy.

“Vera, I’m a grown woman, lusting over a strange man like a teenager and talking to you—a dog. Don’t you think that’s a bit of a cause for concern?” I look down at her, and she just yawns, licking her lips before promptly setting her head down again on my thigh.

I finally decide to take my rumination station of a body to bed and continue to overthink everything in the comforting embrace of too many pillows and blankets.

Vera quietly follows me as I shuffle to my bedroom because she also knows my inability to say no. Every night, she stands at the bottom of the bed and places her head on the mattress with her huge, puppy dog eyes and gentle tail wags while huffing to get up.

And every night, I pat the bed and say, “Get up here, drama queen.”

As I stroll into the room, I head toward the window to crack it for some breeze. I love this time of year—the changing colors, cool temperatures, and the crispness of fall just ignite a bit of happiness in me.

After changing into a baggy T-shirt and flannel pajama pants, I crawl under the covers and fluff a pillow behind me. Lately, I’ve had difficulty sleeping. My doctor said it’s normal for sleep patterns to be disrupted with grief. Which is why I’m up reading until 3 a.m. and then consuming three Diet Cokes to get me through the next day.

With a heavy sigh, I turn over in bed, shut off the bedside lamp, and grab my paperback with its equipped book light and read until I drift off to sleep.

“Hey, hey, my little grouchy Gremlin!” Marnie bellows from the front of the store.

Sighing, I rub my forehead. “Must you yell that every time? What if we had customers in here, and they heard you?”

I was deep in thought before being so rudely interrupted by Marnie. It’s been a week since that night with Finn, and that’s all I’ve been thinking about. I haven’t heard from him or even seen him, and at first, I thought maybe he was ignoring me.

Earlier this week, I took Marnie’s advice and paid more attention. The long lines coming out the door of the newly opened Dark Side Brews proves that Finn is busy. The man has been getting slammed with business ever since he opened. Especially because people in this town love their coffee.

Personally, I think they should be drinking more water. It may even out their overzealousness. Their high energy is too much for Vera and me.

I’m at the front counter rescuing a snake plant that one of my customers left in rough shape. How they almost killed this plant is beyond me.

Marnie drifts towards me, ignoring my previous question and stopping at the counter, a puzzled expression settling on her face. “Why does that snake plant look like it’s ready for the grave?”

“Because it is. Nick brought it in and told me to ‘fix it.’ No ‘please,’ no ‘thank you.’ Just ‘fix it’ and he walked out,” I grumble, clipping away at the limp, unsalvageable leaves.

“How does someone even manage to kill one of these?” she says, flicking the plant. “It’s virtually impossible.”

I shrug. “The plant probably got tired of his bullshit. It probably couldn’t breathe because his arrogance was taking up too much oxygen in his house.”

Marnie snorts. “That’s a good one, Grem.”

“Oh wow. We’re shortening that nickname now?” My eyes raise over the plant, pinning her with a humorous glare.

Marnie gives me a sly smirk and I can’t help but shake my head. Turning my focus back on the plant, Marnie begins organizing a few things behind the counter.

“Oh my god. I forgot to ask! You met Jenkins’s nephew, right?” she questions, stuffing some papers in folders that she’ll most likely misplace.

I was hoping she would have forgotten about that. She was off visiting some family for the past week, so I haven’t had a chance to speak much with her. Plus, Marnie has the memory of a goldfish. It’s both endearing and enraging.

My shears drop to the counter with more force than I anticipated. “How on earth do you remember that but can’t remember to lock the front door of this place?”

She shrugs nonchalantly. “Who the hell would willingly steal plants?”

“You’re fired,” I deadpan.

Marnie checks her watch as she walks over to grab her apron. “It only took you thirty-two minutes into my shift to say that. That may be a record. Anyway, you have to tell me how it went!”

Leaning on the counter, I thread my fingers through my hair, resting my head in my hands. I sigh so deeply that I’m sure the next town could hear it.

Marnie starts chuckling. “No. Fucking. Way. Was it?—”

I don’t let her finish. “Yes, it fucking was.”

“Well, this calls for a ‘Closed’ sign discussion.” She walks over to the front door and flips the sign that now says we’re closed. She only does this when she wants uninterrupted story time from me. Rare, but when I do have a story, it’s usually pretty good. Marnie grabs a stool behind the counter and sits down with her face in her palms. She’s looking at me like a child ready for their bedtime story.

I straighten up, setting my hands on my hips. “It was indeed that Finn. Or, as you know him, Gumby.”

“What a small fucking world. Is he as crazy as his aunt? Does he also do that weird lip thing?”

“No, and no. He’s shockingly normal and very nice.” I debated telling her what happened after meeting him and how he made us hot chocolate. Knowing her, she’ll make a huge deal out of it, and I’m not in the frame of mind to handle all of her Marnieness right now.

“Wow. So, he’s the one that owns Dark Side Brews down the street? Sick name, by the way,” she says with admiration. “So what happens next? Are you going to hold up your end of the deal? You know what happened last time you told Jenkins you would do something and you didn’t.”

Oh, do I remember. The damn woman told the whole town, including my parents, that I was unreliable. Granted, I was only nineteen; of course I was unreliable. But in my defense, she wanted me to dig up FBI-level information on her second husband (or was it her third?). Thankfully, my parents put her in her place and told her I wasn’t breaking any laws to gather the information she needed.

I look at Marnie, rolling my lips as I shrug with indifference. “He seems pretty nice and not pushy. Also, he seems to be on our team regarding Jenkins.”

“Really? How so?”

“We discussed best practices for getting through her gatherings with your sanity intact, which included getting very drunk and knowing the exit routes.” I chuckle.

“Oh, he sounds like my kind of guy!”

When there’s a knock at the door, our heads snap to the front of the store. Due to the ridiculous number of plants here, you can't see anything from the counter except for a wall of green.

Marnie eyes the door. “Do they not read? Can’t they see we’re closed?” She begrudgingly walks to the door, unlocking it for the customer. There’s a moment of silence, followed by hushed voices. Marnie’s tone of voice is a bit higher and friendlier than usual.

She’s also giggling . Which is wildly out of character for her.

Huh. Marnie’s flirting .

Amidst the forest of plants, I spot Marnie with Finn trailing behind her. In his hand is a small to-go coffee cup. I can’t help but feel a tad skeptical because I don’t think she knows who he is. She’s laying the charm on thick, between her fluttering eyelashes and lip biting.

My poker face fails when Finn and I lock eyes, and I try to suppress a smile. Marnie is in her own world, gazing up at Finn as if he’s a gift to all women. I turn my back to compose myself. This whole flirtatious interaction goes on for about five minutes—five minutes too long, because now I’m getting secondhand embarrassment.

In those five minutes, Marnie has complimented his hair, his biceps (I make a mental note to sneak a peek later), his dark gray sweater vest, his eyes, and the list goes on. I have to give her credit: she’s really putting it all out there and leaving no compliment stone unturned. Marnie has nothing to lose, and it’s admirable.

Finally, Finn interrupts her using such a gentle, kind tone that my heart does that annoying fluttery thing again.

“I don’t mean to interrupt, but I didn’t catch your name. What was it again? My apologies if you told me and I didn’t hear you,” Finn says to Marnie.

What a fucking gentleman. His mother should be so proud.

Marnie’s swoon can be felt throughout the entire store. She loves a polite, self-aware man.

“Oh my goodness, no worries! I’m Marnie. And you are?”

Who is this person and where the hell is Marnie? What did she add to her water bottle this morning? She’s never flirty. I’ve seen her shoot daggers out of her eyes if a man so much as glances in her direction.

Finn laughs softly, a hint of amusement laced in his tone.

The bomb is about to drop.

“I’m Finn. And I’m here to bring Charlie this,” he says. I hear him place the cup on the counter.

The heavy silence of realization smacks Marnie in the face. Feeling brave, I turn back around to them, and my friend looks at me like she’s ready to disown me.

Arms crossed, hip popped, and one eyebrow raised—she’s ready for battle. I cover my mouth with one hand and start laughing.

“Charlotte,” Marnie says, using my full name, which means I’m in trouble.

“Yes?” I look at her with the best, innocent facial expression that I can muster up.

“Were you just going to let me go on and continue?”

“I mean, it did sound like you were enjoying yourself. Who am I to rob you of that kind of joy? That wouldn’t make me a very good friend.” I shrug innocently.

Marnie huffs. “I quit.”

“No, you don’t,” I reply. “Now, stop talking and head to the back. You have inventory you need to take care of.”

As she steps behind the counter, heading to the back, she faces me. “Fine. But this conversation isn’t finished.” Quickly, she glances around the store, takes a few steps closer, and leans close to my ear. “I don’t know about you, but he’s rocking that slutty little sweater vest. What a saucy little minx.”

I shoot her a glance from the corner of my eye. “Get to work, or I’ll fire you . . . again.”

“I just quit three seconds ago!” Her chuckle fills the room as she takes off to the back, hopefully checking inventory and not social media. I really do need her to do some work.

I take a steadying breath and turn my gaze to Finn. Resting my hands on my waist, I look up at him. “So, what brings you in today? Need a fourteenth plant?”

His face breaks into a smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners. Finn’s charming personality matches his annoyingly charming face. Immediately, my heart beats faster in my chest with his simple smile. Completely forgetting how to form sentences, my mouth goes dry, and all that confidence I had earlier goes out the window.

I’m screwed.