Chapter 7
Chapter Seven
Seth
Finding sleep after the car ride with Ripley was virtually impossible.
Somehow, I could still smell him on my clothes, and it felt like an unusual kind of torment.
I texted Cary this morning as promised, asking what time he’d like me to come by.
A large part of me wanted to pretend I forgot.
The more rational side reminded me the quicker this is dealt with, the quicker I can get back to Seattle.
We only have so long before the wedding, and I’m not risking the possibility of having to stay past the agreed upon date.
The plus side to getting no sleep was having an obscene amount of time for research on the best bed-and-breakfasts in this region.
I arrived in South Carolina with a handful of ideas to bring to the table, but last night gave me the opportunity to get more creative.
I know Cary expected me to focus on the business side of the setup, but now knowing Ripley is involved in this makes me want to contribute more, it makes me care more.
Which is ridiculous and something I probably wouldn’t admit to myself if I weren’t sleep deprived.
I would have gone to RED before lunch, but I’d spent the first half of my morning slurping down coffee and the second picking up my rental car one town over. At least now I won’t have to accept any more rides from Ripley.
As I push open the door to RED, I’m hit in the face with the aroma of Cary’s masterful cooking.
Travis is fantastic, and I’m glad we were able to secure him as a replacement for Cary when he moved back here, but his style is different.
With his minimalist small plates, he’s better suited for a chic city restaurant like Carina Cove. I’ve missed Cary’s homestyle dishes.
I’ve got my briefcase in hand as I shuffle through the throngs of people, searching for a familiar face. Just as I’m passing the hallway leading to the distillery, I see an unmistakable head of inky hair. Luckily for me, it’s the back of his head, so he has no idea I’m here.
Unfortunately, it means I got a good look at his ass in a pair of tight khakis.
Memories of our times together assault me.
The first time we met when I made him get on his knees for me.
The time we spent an entire day holed up in our hotel room instead of attending the final day of the convention.
All the times we fell asleep while on video call.
Fuck.
How am I going to survive a month of this? It’s all too much and not nearly enough at the same time.
Out of the corner of my eye, I spot Thea dropping food off to a table. As she turns to walk away, I throw up an arm to get her attention. “Thea. Hey.”
She looks in my direction, her expression open; I don’t think she realizes I was the one calling her.
“Oh, Seth. Hey! Glad you could make it.”
Her warmth toward me shouldn’t make my stomach turn, but it does.
Every. Single. Time.
“Yeah, sorry it’s a little later than expected. I had to pick up my rental,” I say.
“No worries. Are you hungry? We’re just about to head over to the distillery for lunch. I can have Cary tell the staff to make you a plate,” she offers as she heads toward the kitchen.
Okay, seriously, why is she so nice? It can’t all just be southern hospitality.
“Sure, thanks,” I reply, trying not to sound annoyed because I’m not; my tone just comes off that way sometimes, or so I’ve been told.
She could have easily not offered. It only makes me feel like even more of an asshole for how I treated her in the past. I truly don’t have an issue with the woman.
At least, not anymore. I won’t deny I didn’t like her years ago when she and Cary lived in Seattle because it felt like they brought out the worst in each other.
My feelings for Cary may have been the bigger part of the problem. But it’s not something I need to dredge up.
Once Thea moved back here and I realized she wasn’t the reason I couldn’t have my—delusional—happily ever after with Cary, I let go of the idea.
I put all the effort I spent disliking Thea for being the one he chose into crafting a friendship with Iris.
She felt better suited for him. They didn’t fight nearly as much.
And I thought that was what love was supposed to look like.
I thought couples who fought were the same couples doomed to divorce and ruin their children’s lives. Like my own parents had done.
As it turns out, love is a lot messier than I first assumed.
Exhibited not only by Thea and Cary’s turbulence but also my own…
situationship. It’s been easy to tell myself what I felt for Ripley all these years was nothing more than lust. Seeing him once a year made it easy to convince myself the pull in my chest was just excitement.
Every facet of our situation made it entirely too easy for me to gaslight myself the second we parted by telling myself it was just sex.
It didn’t matter that seeing his name pop up on my screen brought a smile to my face. It didn’t matter that I laughed more when we were together or when we talked on the phone. None of it mattered because he was there one second and gone the next. He was something I could compartmentalize.
Until now.
Thea and Cary emerge from the kitchen together, a beaming smile on his face as he wraps an arm around her. His eyes find me standing off to the side, looking like a lost puppy.
“Have I told you how glad I am you’re here?” he asks, knocking the breath out of my lungs. At the same exact moment, Ripley comes out of nowhere, and his eyes widen when he sees me.
“Seth,” he says, pointedly and without truly looking in my direction. His indifference shouldn’t gut me the way it does, I shouldn’t allow it. I nod my head to him, knowing if I try to say anything, my voice will give me away, and everyone will know something is up.
I turn to Cary instead. “A couple of times, but I’m just happy I could be here to help.”
Thea pulls him toward the hallway leading to the distillery. “Let’s go sit down. Tiff will bring lunch as soon as it’s all plated.”
Following them, I realize Ripley isn’t behind me. He’s disappeared as if he wasn’t even here. “Ripley isn’t joining us this time?” I ask without thinking.
Thea turns to look at me, a small smirk on her face, as she pushes through the swinging doors. “No. He’s meeting up with Brooks. I think he said they’re helping a friend move some gym equipment. Ripley volunteered to ‘supervise’ them,” she says, using air quotes and laughing to herself.
I desperately try not to read too much into it.
I’m not an overthinker. I usually don’t care what others are doing with their life or their time.
Ripley has always been different though.
I’ve never been able to figure out why. Even with Cary, I rarely put much thought into his day-to-day despite the feelings I had for him.
But with Ripley… I constantly want to know more.
It’s been a slow trickle over the years.
I’ve squirreled away every piece of information he’s given me like it’s something precious, yet now it feels like we’re starting over.
It feels like Ripley and East aren’t even the same person.
We sit at the table, and I set my briefcase in front of me to pull out my laptop. Food isn’t here yet, and I’d rather fill the time with talk of business so I’m not tempted to ask questions I shouldn’t be desperate for answers to.
“So, Thea, Cary said you wanted to go over the plans in more detail. I have some ideas, but I want to hear what your vision is first,” I say as I open my laptop, navigating to one of my many spreadsheets.
Thea lights up like she’s surprised and thrilled I brought it up. “Wow. Okay. I won’t lie, I didn’t expect you to have ideas, so I’m intrigued.” She pauses, then grimaces before adding, “Shit. I didn’t mean that in a rude way! I just meant I didn’t—”
Cary puts an arm on her shoulder, cutting her off. I’m no stranger to her nervous ramblings.
“You’re fine, baby. I’m sure Seth didn’t take it that way,” Cary soothes, looking directly at me, his eyes pleading with me to confirm.
“Nope. You’re good. I didn’t expect it either, so it’s a surprise for us both.”
Her shoulders slump into a more relaxed position just as someone pushes through the swinging doors.
“Sorry about the wait! My four-top wanted to chat as I was handing them their check,” the server—I think someone said her name is Tiff—says in a rush.
“No worries, Tiffany. I appreciate you taking care of them first,” Thea replies with a smile.
From what I’ve seen, she does a solid job of managing her employees.
They seem happy to be here. I haven’t seen anyone mumbling under their breath, slamming things around, or rolling their eyes.
All interactions I’ve unfortunately had when handling employees.
I’ve never been good with people though.
Give me numbers and charts all day long, but the second I need to be social or deal with someone’s emotions, I’m fairly useless.
I know it’s considered a flaw in my character, I know it’s something everyone wishes I would work on, I just don’t know how.
And quite frankly, a part of me doesn’t feel like it’s entirely necessary.
With lunch served, Tiffany asks if we need anything else then leaves us to our meeting. We dig in, taking a few bites before continuing the conversation. I almost moan when the perfectly seasoned salmon hits my tongue.
“Damn, Carrington. You sure know how to make a meal,” I say between bites. He laughs, and Thea looks at him with pure adoration, which is my cue to get us back to a safe topic. “So, Thea, your ideas?” I ask.