Chapter 4
Chapter Four
Seth
This can’t be happening. This cannot be happening. There’s no way. Absolutely no way I’m this fucking unlucky. I can’t even fathom how this is real life. The probability of it is almost nonexistent. Of all the people in the world.
Ripley.
East.
Ripley and East. The same person. I just… I can’t even form full thoughts. How?
And then it all hits me. Every clue. Every sign.
Every possible time I could have put this together.
Every time he mentioned his female best friend who sounded eerily like Thea when he described her.
He never said her name. We never said anyone’s names.
It’s part of our stupid rules. The ones I put in place because I’m paranoid someone is going to find out about me and it’ll somehow get back to my father.
But I knew she was getting back together with an ex.
I knew enough, I should have figured it out before it hit me in the face in the worst possible place at the worst possible time.
I obviously know East is a distiller. And I’ve known for over a year that Thea owns a distillery. I even know her best friend, Ripley, is the distiller. So why did I never question it? Why did I never put it together?
Well, one, the likelihood of this is close to nil.
And two, because I didn’t want any of it to be real.
Not the feelings I was having, not the look in Eas—Ripley’s eyes when I turned him down, none of it.
I’ve been running from this for years now.
Of course I ignored every possible sign leading up to this moment.
But he’s here.
He’s here, and I said “nice to meet you.” I put up another fucking wall.
I didn’t know what else to do. What’s the protocol on finding out the man you’ve been fucking for years and are lowkey obsessed with is the best friend of your lifelong crush’s fiancée?
The same fiancée you resent because she got the guy you’ve always secretly wanted.
Is there a manual? A how-to guide? Because I’d read the fuck out of it right now.
I’d do anything to have direction on how to handle whatever the fuck is happening.
Fuck, my head pounds with an oncoming migraine.
I’m also terrified everyone knows now. Like somehow from the interaction we just had, they somehow know I’m gay, and I’ve been keeping this huge secret.
Plus, he ran away. He acted like I slapped him.
And I guess, I might as well have. But again, I didn’t know what to do.
The last person I expected to run into was him.
It took everything in me not to go after him. I’m still staring at the door he went through on the other side of the restaurant. I want to hug him, hold him, explain why I panicked. But instead I—
“Ow, what the fu—” I start after being elbowed in the gut.
“Thea asked you a question, dude. Don’t be a dick,” Cary says, giving me a disappointed look.
“Sorry, what did you ask?” I say as I watch a man who isn’t Eas—Ripley walk through the door, a glass of bourbon in hand, heading in our direction.
Thea’s lips pull in a thin line. She’s trying her best to be civil with me, which tracks.
Wait until she finds out who I am to Ripley.
Unless she doesn’t know. She has to know.
They don’t have secrets. Fuck, this is such a mess.
“—talk to you about the expansion. I thought maybe we could have dinner tonight, discuss some of the plans we have?” Thank God I caught enough to put together what she said without getting gut punched again.
The last thing I want is to go to dinner with her and Cary tonight.
Especially considering what I just found out.
I need to go to my hotel so I can properly freak the fuck out in private.
“I, uh—”
“It would mean a lot to both of us,” Cary cuts in, sensing I was about to decline. And screw him. He knows if he asks, I’ll say yes.
“Right. Sure,” I deadpan. I’m too unsettled to find a way out of it.
“Okay! Perfect,” Thea says, a hopeful smile on her face.
I honestly don’t know why she’s acting like we’re best friends.
She doesn’t even like me. “I can show you the prospectus for the business and the schematic design for the building we got from the architect.” She looks to Cary, as if she needs his approval or something.
Have they always been this annoying, or is it because they’re lovesick?
“Oh!” she says, bringing her focus back to me.
“I’ll bring Ripley too. He can deep dive into all the distillery stuff.
Walk you through that whole side of it.”
Hearing him called Ripley instead of East is like nails on a chalkboard, none of it sits right.
And the way her face lights up when she talks about him makes me want to punch something.
“Neither of those things are necessary. I’ll run my own reports.
And I know more than enough about bourbon; we don’t need to include Ripley. ”
Her face falls, and in my panic, I can’t even feel bad about it. There’s no room for anything but my spiraling thoughts. “Oh, okay. Sure. We’ll meet back here at seven then.”
The man with the drink appears behind Cary looking less than enthused about my presence for some reason. “Ah, good. Brooks, this is Seth. Seth, this is my brother, Brooks.” I control my face, not letting anything show as I’m introduced to the brother I’ve heard so much about.
“Nice to meet you,” I say, holding my hand out for him to shake.
He doesn’t extend his, so I pull mine back before it gets awkward.
I didn’t expect meeting Brooks to be pleasant, however, I didn’t think he’d be so cold.
I’m sure Thea has influenced his perception of me.
She had eight years to make us into the villains before Cary came back into the picture and redeemed himself.
I, on the other hand, don’t see redemption in my future.
“Right, well, I should go get settled in at my hotel. I’ll see you all later.” I don’t wait for a reply before turning to leave.
From a distance, I hear Thea ask, “Do you think it went well?” but I don’t hear Cary’s response as I turn the corner.
If she were to ask me, I’d say it in fact did not go well. None of this is going well.
Indigo Hill is a tiny town. So tiny it has exactly one open hotel within the town limits in the offseason. The rapid growth of the town is one of the reasons Thea wants to expand and make Ripple Effect into a bed-and-breakfast; they’re starting to get patrons even in the offseason.
RED isn’t the only business with construction plans.
Apparently, my hotel is undergoing renovations as well.
Something I did not know when I booked my trip and only found out when I saw the sign on the front entrance explaining they’re updating the hotel ahead of the tourist season and asking visitors to please excuse their appearance.
I may not be in the hotel business, but it seems like April is cutting it a little close for tourist season, and now I have to deal with construction noise when I’m trying to decompress. If I didn’t have this dinner tonight, I’d say there’s no way the day could get worse.
Rolling my luggage behind me, I walk up to the front desk to check in.
“Hi! Welcome in! Do you have a reservation?” the receptionist asks, entirely too chipper for my current mood.
“I do, under—” I’m cut off by sounds of drilling from down the hall. When the sound doesn’t stop, I continue, raising my voice over the noise, “Seth Cassidy.”
She types away, keeping her eyes on the screen, but they widen for a quick second before she realizes and fixes her expression. I can only assume something is wrong with my reservation.
Did I break a mirror without realizing it? Walk under a ladder? Cross paths with a black cat without seeing it? Have I simply used up my lifetime allowance of good fortune?
“Is something wrong?” I ask, unable to keep the curt tone from my voice.
“Oh, uh—no!” she stutters, a nervous laugh following. “No, I found your reservation, I just have to find another room to move you into.”
“Sounds like a problem to me…” I pause to look at her name tag. “Bethany.”
Her cheeks blush as she rushes to explain the issue at hand, “No, no. It’s not. We have another room for you, Mr. Cassidy. I’m so sorry. We just got notice there’s a plumbing issue on the side of the hotel we had you in, so I just have to switch some things around.”
She begins typing again, more frantic this time. I know I should be nicer, I really do. And if Iris were here, she’d slap the back of my head, but my day has been shit, so I’m finding it hard to sugarcoat things.
“So the place is a construction zone, and now there are plumbing issues as well?” It’s a rhetorical question. She knows it, I know it. I’m just stating the obvious so we both know how bad it sounds.
“The construction will only be happening from nine to five. I assure you, it won’t disrupt your sleep,” she says, trying to salvage the situation.
The truth is, it doesn’t matter. There isn’t another hotel I can move to unless I want a twenty to thirty minute commute to RED. I decide to take the high road despite feeling like I’m being punk’d.
“It’s fine, not your fault.”
Her shoulders loosen in relief. “Give me just a second to grab your keycard.” She walks into the office behind the desk, probably happy to be out of my presence for a moment.
When she comes back, she slides the keycard sleeve across the desk.
“The WiFi password is inside as well as some restaurant suggestions for your stay in Indigo Hill! If you need anything, feel free to call the front desk, but keep in mind there’s no one here past 9 p.m.”
Of course there isn’t.
“Thank you,” I say, doing everything I can to keep my voice polite so I don’t ruin her entire shift.
“Have a great day, Mr. Cassidy!”
Yeah, not likely considering it’s already terrible. I give her a small wave without looking back so she won’t see the annoyance on my face. It isn’t her fault. It isn’t anyone’s fault.
It might be a little bit my fault.
Once I’m in my room, I roll my luggage to the corner, plopping myself down on the bed. Pulling my phone from my pocket, I’m reminded I only have three hours until I have to meet up with Cary and Thea. I’m still holding out hope she won’t bring Ripley.
I open my messages app, scroll to E, and bring up our texts. I’d gotten a little carried away when we last spoke, telling him all about some of my fantasies. Things I wouldn’t have said had I known I’d be seeing him seven months earlier than expected.
My fingers hover over the keyboard, itching to say something, anything. I start typing but quickly erase it. Try again. Erase again.
Nothing sounds right. What do I even say?
Sorry I acted like I didn’t know you? Am I even sorry?
How would I have explained it otherwise?
I couldn’t have. Not without outing myself and possibly him in the process.
Thea knows, but I have no idea if Cary does.
We’ve never talked about it. Because why would we?
Fuck.
Deciding there’s nothing to say that doesn’t make me sound like an idiot, I bring up his profile in my phone instead, quickly changing the name to Ripley instead of E.
Whatever bullshit fairytale I’d made up in my head for us, whatever relationship I thought we may have or could work toward, it’s all over now.