31. Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-One
E mma
"Wow," Rachel exclaims from behind her sunglasses at the pair of horses attached to carts, lounging beside the gift store. The animals turn their majestic heads as we walk beside them, likely drawn to Rachel's loud amazement. "Is that a real horse buggy?"
"Yeah," I answer, grinning at her astonishment. "It’s not really in use anymore but with certain tourist packages, you get to ride around town in them. Gives tourists the full historical experience."
"Oh. I didn’t know this was a horse town."
"It used to be. There were a lot of prosperous ranches in the later eighteen-hundreds," Amelia pipes up, looking more than pleased to reveal her knowledge. "Lakewood was a big horse town, but then there was a string of badly timed famines and diseases, and a lot of people moved, so it kinda became a ghost town for a while after that."
"Huh," Rachel comments, a soothing breeze sweeping the loose tendrils of her hair. "This town has some serious bad luck. The driver who drove me in from the airport told me about a haunted hotel, where a bunch of people died in a fire."
"Yup," Amelia says excitedly. "Isn’t it amazing? That hotel's the one Dad’s renovating and I think it's for real haunted. Emma’s granddad used to work there. Right?"
Amelia beams up at me and I nod.
"Right," I answer. "But I don't think it's haunted. I think it's just bad luck" There is something to be said for the fact that so many tragic things have happened there, including my parent’s death. But again, I prefer to look on the bright side, on all the happy memories that the hotel has offered us.
Rachel eyes her daughter curiously, and although I can’t read the expression behind her sunglasses, I don’t feel any negativity emanating from her.
Declan’s ex isn’t entirely what I expected. Sure, she’s gorgeous and chic in her black leather pants and a sequin top that seems to fall in all the right ways to flatter her slim figure. Her brown hair cascades in perfect curls down her back and her face is…well, perfect for lack of a better word for it. Perfect symmetry, Roman nose, and glittering eyes.
But the surprising part is how easygoing she is. We left the hotel because she wanted me to show her around town. As we walk around the town center, I point out a few of our touristy landmarks, half expecting her to scoff at them, or treat them with the same disregard as Declan when he first got here. But no. She listens raptly, eyes shining with a curiosity so similar to her daughter’s. She asks questions that show she's interested and even brings up similarities to other places she’s visited.
And she's been to a lot of places. She mentions Paris, Berlin, Nairobi, and a bunch of obscure regions I've never heard of before. She seems to have gone everywhere there is to go, so much so that I don't think there's anything I can show her that she hasn't seen before.
"Oh, I bet they had the most gorgeous prairie dresses in those times," she says when I tell her about the balls. "That was the era of elaborate bustles, you know. Big, beautiful whalebone crinolines. No one makes bustles like that anymore."
"Uh-huh." I’m not sure what a bustle or a crinoline is but I’ll take her word for it. Rachel knows a lot of random fashion facts and she's clearly passionate about sharing them. She even helped me put together what I'm wearing right now.
Initially, I was going to don my usual jeans and T-shirt, but she had me swap out the T-shirt for a pink sweater that she brought along with her. She didn't suggest it in a pushy way either, but with a confidence that says, "'I know what I'm talking about and you would be an idiot not to follow."'
So I did as she said, and I have to admit, the few times I caught myself in the mirror I thought I looked pretty good.
All that to say, my jittery nerves from initially meeting Rachel have completely melted away and I’m very much enjoying our hang-out.
What I can’t get used to is the two men walking two paces behind us, their eyes on us at every turn.
I can’t believe Declan got us bodyguards.
It feels kinda ridiculous to me, mostly because it’s something I’ve only seen in movies. The two men are dressed casually in a baggy t-shirt and jeans, but they stick out like sore thumbs. Despite the subtle wind, the air around them feels eerily still. Their height and watchful nature make it obvious they’re not from here. They grab attention as we walk, other pedestrians openly and curiously staring at us.
And as much as I want to ignore it, it’s super awkward knowing their job is to follow us around and protect us from danger.
I glance behind me and meet the smaller one, Cross’, eyes. He winks at me, and I shoot him an awkward smile before glancing away. The men are nice and friendly so that's good at least. It makes them feel less intimidating. But I'm still not entirely comfortable around them.
"Let’s get something to eat," Amelia says suddenly.
"Sure," I respond. "What are you in the mood for?"
"Burgers."
Rachel purses her lips. "A warm bouillabaisse would be lovely."
I pause. "A...what?"
"A bouillabaisse?" When I blink, she grins. "Never mind. Know anywhere with a good seafood salad?"
"Ah. That we can do. Rick catches pike this time of the year. He can make it into a kick-ass salad for you."
"I look forward to it," she says, and I lead the crew down to the Tiki Bar.
I open the door, and the din of conversation quickly envelops us. There are about half a dozen people in here, mostly regulars, and I mentally scan their table items as Cross shuts the door behind us, blocking out the breeze and confining us in the toasty warmth of the indoors.
The combined orders don’t even sum up to two hundred dollars. The bar isn’t doing any better lately.
Lou and Rick are by the counter engaged in a discussion when we arrive. It must have gotten heated at some point because Lou is gesturing around wildly, and Rick is sighing with exasperation.
Poppy is a few tables away watching them, but then her eyes flicker to me when I walk in with Amelia and Rachel. Her eyebrows furrow slightly, and the corners of her lips sink into her cheeks. She's not pleased.
Oh.
The last time she saw me, I was with Declan and now I'm hanging out with his daughter. She's made no secret that she considers Declan her enemy. I wonder if she sees my association with them as a betrayal.
I hope not.
Regardless, I stick up my hand and wave.
She nods back and turns her attention back to Rick and Lou.
"Let’s sit here." I point the crew to a table big enough to accommodate all five of us. Nevertheless, as Rachel and Amelia take their seats, the bodyguards hang back and sit two tables away, still keeping us in sight.
I raise an eyebrow at them. "You guys don’t want to sit with us?"
Cross smiles. "Nah, we’re good here."
"It would be better if you ignored us and pretended like we weren’t there," Monty adds wryly.
"Oh," I say, fidgeting with my fingers. "Is that how this usually works?"
He nods. "Yup. You’re really only supposed to acknowledge us when you’re in danger."
"Oh." That feels a little mean, but maybe that's what they prefer. This is probably as awkward for them as it is for me.
"Okay then. Order whatever you want. The burgers here are good, but don't get anything with a fancy name."
"Roger that," Cross says but they make no move to reach for the menu, making it clear they don't intend to order anything. I shake my head. Stubborn men.
When I slide into my seat, Amelia and Rachel are already glancing through the menu.
"You guys can let me know what you want," I say. "I'll go put it in."
"They don't have servers here?" Rachel asks.
"Well," I blush. "Technically, I am the server. I haven't been at work for a while because of...personal stuff I've been dealing with. But since most of everyone here is a regular, they usually just go up and tell Yule or Rick what they want."
"Wait, you work here?" Amelia asks.
"Yeah. My Grandpa and Rick own the restaurant." I wink at her. "I'll tell them to make your order especially well."
"Ok. Then I want the best medium burger they have."
"You got it." I ruffle her hair gently as I exit the booth. On my way to the kitchen, I walk past Rick and Lou and neither of them acknowledge me. Curiosity sinks in but I don't want to interrupt their conversation to find out what they're talking about.
The kitchen is still and quiet, with Yule lounging on a stool near the sink scrolling onto his phone. It also smells a little spicy, which means that Mrs. Peach must have stopped by and ordered her usual curry.
Yule looks up in alarm when I walk in.
"Hey." He relaxes and sits up when he sees it's me. "I didn't think you would be in today. Rick told me what happened to your grandpa’s place. You're having a tough week kiddo."
"Yeah, you don't know the half of it." I sigh. "Sorry, I've been slacking off so much though."
Yule shrugs. "Hey, it's not like we’ve had all that many people coming in. It's mostly just been Poppy and her crew wanting us to cook whatever creature they caught that day. And no one has ordered a cocktail since you've been gone, so no harm done."
That's bad news for the business, but at least, I don't have to feel as guilty about my absence.
"What about Carly?" I ask. "Has she been here?"
"Carly has been going through her own stuff with her family." At my curious look, he shakes his head. "It's a long story and not my story to tell. I’ll let her tell you herself.
"Oh ok. Um… In that case, can I get four cheeseburgers and a seafood salad for table ten? Did Rick go fishing yesterday?"
"Yup. He caught a bass."
"Perfect. Oh, and can we get it made with extra special love and attention?"
"Always," he says. "Is that for the group of people you just walked in with?
"Yeah." I note his curious eyes and shake my head. "That’s an even longer story."
"But you’ll tell me, eventually?"
"Yeah. Eventually."
After putting in the order, and telling Monty and Cross I got them burgers, I return to the table, noting Amelia's absence.
"She went to the bathroom," Rachel volunteers as I sit.
"Oh."
She has a subtle frown on her face as she taps the table for a few seconds, the rapid sound echoing. Some tension returns to my spine, coiling in my stomach.
I wonder what she’s thinking about, and then she leans forward and folds her hands on the table. "So, you and Declan, is it serious?"
The question is so startling that I immediately gape at her. I wasn't expecting that, or the sober look in her eyes when she said it.
"Um...not really," I answer. "We're just casual for now."
Rachel watches me closely for a few seconds and then grins. "Liar."
"Excuse me?"
"It’s okay." She chuckles. "You probably don't know you're lying to yourself yet. That’s how Declan and I started too. I convinced myself that we were casual and there were no feelings between us. I thought that made things easier. And I actually bought my own bullshit until it was too late and I was fully in love with him." She looks away, and the air between us suddenly feels taut. "Biggest mistake I ever made."
"I’m sorry," I say because I don’t know what else to say. I don't want to reveal that Declan already told me about their relationship and the loss in her eyes makes me sad.
Rachel recovers quickly with a shrug. "It’s okay. I’m over it now. But take this as a warning, because I can tell you’re a very sweet girl and my daughter loves you very much. The last thing you want to do is to fall for Declan. He will never be able to love you back. Not because he doesn’t want to, but because he’s not capable of it. So enjoy him for what he is but never expect him to be something he’s not."
I swallow as an ominous feeling drifts over me. But before I can respond, I spot Amelia on her way back. Rachel instantly leans back in the chair and smiles at her daughter who reaches us and says, "The bathroom was backed up when I got there."
I nod distractedly, but I'm too in my own thoughts to hear the rest of the conversation.
Rachel and Amelia talk while we wait for the food, but Rachel's words keep ringing in my head, drowning out whatever else they’re saying.
The last thing you want to do is to fall for Declan. He will never be able to love you back.
It's not like I didn't already know it, but hearing it from someone else is another thing entirely.
The last thing you want to do is to fall for Declan. He will never be able to love you back.
What if it's already too late?
"I'm going to go check on the food," I say and rise suddenly. My stomach feels tight as I head back to the counter, so much so that I wonder if I’ll be able to choke down the burger.
This time, when I pass Rick, he’s alone.
His eyes are still irritated when they meet mine.
"What's up?" I ask slowing to a stop. "I saw you and Lou arguing earlier."
"Yeah." The word is drawn out, and then he turns and starts walking, beckoning me over. I follow him to the kitchen, where Yule is putting the finishing touches on the salad. He glances at us curiously, as we both walk through the backdoor leading to the backyard.
There I find something that makes me gasp.
"Oh my gosh." In front of me, on the end of a rope tied to the fence is a mid-sized, mixed-breed terrier with shaggy black hair who blinks up at me and dances on his front feet when I arrive. He lets out a short yip, and then his tail wags when I drop to my knees. He doesn’t smell too bad, just a little earthy. His fur is soft too. I start scratching his head and the wagging increases.
"He's adorable. You got a dog?"
"Not really. Poppy found him on a hunt, no tag and no chip. Animal rescue is too crowded to take him in. I wanted to keep him at my house until an owner showed up but then Lou had a problem with it."
"Why would Lou have a problem with you keeping an animal at your house?"
He raises an eyebrow, but it still takes a few seconds to hit me. "Oh."
"Yeah," he says.
Vague discomfort trickles through me. I always suspected Rick and Lou had a thing. Their fights always seemed to have sexual undertones, and I would sometimes catch them looking at each other.
But Rick has been like a second dad to me and hearing about his sex life is as awkward as I thought it would be.
"Congratulations," I say. "Are things getting serious between you two?"
"Serious enough for her to not want dog fur around my house. She's allergic."
"Oh," I say. I move my hand behind the little pup's ear, and he purrs his satisfaction. He also gives me a pitiful hang-dog look, as though he can tell the direction of Rick and my conversation. "How about I keep him?"
"You sure?"
"Yeah. I need a guard dog anyway after what happened." Just thinking about the break-in made the temperature out here feel like it dropped several degrees. The memory of going home and finding everything shattered on the floor…someone lurking in the shadows…
I swallow to suppress my shiver.
Maybe a dog could help with that. This pup doesn’t look all that threatening but at least he could be a warning dog.
"You sure your boyfriend's going to be okay with that?" Rick asks wryly.
"He's not my boyfriend," I respond a tad sharply. "And Declan has no say in what I keep in my house. After all, he's going to leave eventually."
I need to remember that bitter fact and stamp it at the forefront of my mind.
In fact, for the sake of my heart, we should make our separation sooner rather than later.