Chapter Fifteen
Seth
Something has changed. I’m not sure when or how, but things between Ripley and me have shifted.
I can’t determine if it makes me more or less nervous to be around him.
I can say with certainty last night felt more intimate.
It felt like before, so familiar, but also different.
I saw his pain through a new lens. I’ve known about his parents, but I saw the situation in a new light last night.
How could they leave him? How could they not love him for exactly who he is?
He hides his sadness so well, it’s not surprising most don’t see it. He covers it in humor and sarcasm, pushing it down so far there’s no way anyone would guess he’s got his own demons lurking under the surface.
He fell asleep a few minutes after we said goodnight, and I continued to watch him for a while, memorizing the lines of his face, the way his wavy hair fell across his forehead.
I didn’t know when I’d have the chance to look at him again so shamelessly, so I took my time.
And it only made me realize just how much I miss him.
How much I miss us; even if there was never truly an us to be missed.
Everything about him and us is complicated. I don’t do complicated, which has been the issue all along. I like simple. I like a routine. I loathe spontaneity and chaos. So why am I so captivated by someone who lives and breathes everything I can’t stand?
Despite knowing he probably wouldn’t be up by the time I left, I was anxious all morning as I stretched and prepared for my run and then again as I got ready to go to RED.
Being anything but predictable, I worried he’d torture himself by getting up early just to talk to me before I left.
Luckily, he was still asleep when I locked the door and headed out.
I’ve been here almost two weeks, but surprisingly, the time has flown by.
I’ve gotten to know some locals around town.
Grayce even switched the yogurt in her parfaits to an almond milk based variety for me after she found out I’m lactose intolerant.
The gesture made me more emotional than I’m willing to admit.
Never in my life did I think I’d find a place like this charming, but here I am strolling through town, parfait in hand, with an actual smile on my face.
It’s probably the cherry blossoms. Or the fresh air.
Or the absence of traffic noise. In Seattle, the only place I choose to walk instead of driving is downtown simply because it’s easier, but since Ripley’s is so close to the town square and RED, I don’t bother driving much to get around Indigo Hill.
I look down at my phone to find it’s later than I realized. Shit, I better head over to RED. The updated schematics are back, and Cary asked me to swing by to take a look. I was hoping he’d be there as well, but he’s at a tux fitting. He assured me Thea can answer any questions I may have.
I swear he’d lock us in a room together until we solved our issues if he thought he could get away with it.
If he knew the root of the problem, I think he’d feel differently and probably wouldn’t push us together as much.
Though him feeling differently about me is what I fear most and why I’ve kept my secret to myself all these years.
It’s just after ten and a little over seventy degrees already.
The mornings are still tolerable, but the afternoons border on miserable.
As usual, there’s a mid-morning rush at RED with an almost full parking lot.
And like always, I’m impressed a town this small can keep a restaurant not only busy but growing rapidly.
It only goes to show great food and good business can keep the doors open and customers coming back regardless of location.
I walk up the front steps, grabbing the door to hold it open for a couple walking out.
“Thank you, son,” the man says, and I give him a nod in response. Small town life is so different than what I’m used to.
I’m familiar enough with the staff now that I feel confident walking past the hostess stand without telling them who I am or why I’m here.
Just like Grayce’s, the employees at RED are beginning to know me.
The servers don’t ask for my order anymore.
None of them offer coffee. And the bartenders know I only drink RED, neat.
It’s comforting in a way I’m not used to.
Sure, people know me at Carina Cove, but they also fear me.
They didn’t get to know me because they wanted to, they did it because they thought it would win them brownie points.
These people don’t have a reason to be nice or accommodating to me other than it’s how they treat everyone.
And while they aren’t cowering when I’m around, they also don’t take me as seriously as I’m used to.
I wish I could say it didn’t frustrate me, even if it is helping me unwind some.
I’m torn about whether I like it or not.
“Hey, Seth,” Tiffany says from the bar where she’s grabbing drinks. “You want me to put your usual in?”
Did I say comforting? Maybe it’s slightly unnerving, especially with Tiffany, since it feels like she’s trying to impress me.
“No, thank you. I ate at Grayce’s today,” I tell her, and she nods in understanding. “Is Thea around? I’m supposed to meet with her.”
“She’s in her office,” she says, placing the drinks on a tray. “Want me to let her know you’re here?”
“I’ll find her. Thanks.”
“Sure thing.” She walks out from behind the bar winking as she passes, a tray loaded with at least six drinks. She’s carrying it with ease, making it look effortless. I’m still not sure if she’s flirting or if it’s a southern charm thing. I’ve decided to ignore it and hope it’ll eventually stop.
Turning down the hall, the door is cracked open to the small office Thea seldomly uses, so I rap my knuckles against the frame, and she jolts from her seat at the sound.
“Holy fuck, you scared the shit out of me,” she yelps.
“Sorry, it wasn’t intentional,” I say with a small laugh. “Cary said you got the new designs back?”
With a hand still covering her chest, she says, “Yeah, he dropped them off early this morning. You ready to take a look at them?”
I nod my head in response. “In here or…?”
“Oh, no, I figure we can go over to the distillery where it’s a little quieter and spread it out on the big table,” she says, referring to the oversized communal table in the center of the distillery. She stands and grabs the rolled up blueprints.
I turn back into the hall, gesturing for her to lead the way.
I’m actually excited to see the revisions.
Every day I’m here, I find myself more and more invested in this project.
I’ve never helped build something from the literal ground up, and I didn’t realize just how much I’d enjoy it.
After requesting some adjustments to the original design, they’ve moved on to development plans.
These should give us a better idea of what the new building will look like.
As we push through the swinging doors, Thea makes her way to the large wooden table.
“Did you and Cary go over them yet?” I ask out of curiosity.
“No, we haven’t had time. Cary was almost late to his fitting this morning, and I had to deal with problems here on top of finding out some of the centerpieces arrived broken.”
I haven’t seen Thea stressed about the wedding before now. I’ve actually been surprised it hasn’t come up more in conversation since it’s right around the corner. Maybe I just wasn’t paying attention though because I see it clear as day now.
“Oh, shit. Anything I can help with?” I ask as I push some chairs aside so she has room. “With the issues here, I mean. I won’t be much help with centerpieces,” I amend.
She lets out a heavy sigh. “No, it’s all handled now. Let’s just look these over. I need to get him any changes by the end of the day to stay on track.”
Straight to business, just the way I like it. And despite her not so great mood, this feels easy for once, maybe for the first time since we met. It’s throwing me a bit at how casual and civil we’re both acting toward one another.
“Have you ever looked over blueprints before?”
“Not for something of this scale, but I’ve seen some restaurant plans. It was after the fact though, not prior to construction.”
She pulls the schematics from their tube, laying them on the table and smoothing out the edges. One side keeps trying to curl in on itself.
“Hold on, let me grab something.” I jog over to the bar and grab a glass, placing it on the unruly corner. “There we go.”
“Thanks.”
“Alright, let’s start with the ground floor.” She nods in response, and we go through the rooms one by one discussing some minor changes she wants to make. Once she gets past three modifications she plans to discuss with the architect, I interrupt her.
“We should probably take some notes. I didn’t bring my laptop today. You got a pen and paper anywhere in here?”
“In my office, yeah. Be right back,” she tells me as she turns.
Continuing to look at the schematics, I take mental notes of some things I want to bring up to her, especially when I notice the unused real estate at the back of the property near the lake.
“No, that won’t work,” Thea says as she walks back into the distillery. Looking over my shoulder, I realize she’s on the phone. “No. Shit. You know what? I’ll have to call you back.”
There’s a tension in the room now as she holds out the notebook and pen to me.
“Here you go.”
“Everything okay?” I ask hesitantly, knowing it’s the polite thing to do but wishing I didn’t have to. I take the pad and pen from her, and she starts fiddling with the rings on the hand still holding her phone.
“Yeah, just another wedding snag, it’s fine,” she says, taking a deep breath.
From the sound of it, she’s trying to convince herself it’s fine, but it’s not my place to question her. I’ll leave that task to Cary.
“Really. Let’s get back to it.” She slides her phone back into her pocket before bringing her attention to the plans laid out in front of us.
“Okay, you said the thing about the kitchen and the lobby, what was the other change?”
She points to the space where the elevator will be. “This, I think we need to move everything over a little.”
“Got it.”
“What about you? Do you see anything you’d want to change?” she asks, turning her gaze to me.
“Interior-wise, nothing major, no. I think he did a really good job on the adjustments, and I agree with everything you said. I was wondering about this area.” I point to the land next to the lake.
“What if we did something here to add more amenities for patrons? Maybe a little manmade beach with volleyball nets? We could invest in beach loungers, maybe even those nice canopy beach beds. Or we could go in the opposite direction and build a tennis court.”
She scoffs at the suggestion, which isn’t the response I expected. “I mean, sure, they’re great ideas, but with what money, Seth? We’re already at the top of the budget.” She’s got her arms crossed now, her walls sky high in a matter of seconds, all of the civility from earlier gone.
“We could shift some things around in the budget, maybe go mid-line on some—”
“No. No, that won’t work,” Thea says, cutting me off and shaking her head. “Listen, I know you come from money, but we aren’t all swimming in wealth.”
I can’t help but reel back. Where the fuck did that come from?
Trying not to get too heated about her accusation, I take a breath and say, “I never said that. Or even insinuated it.”
Taking a step back from the table, her arms still crossed in front of her, she shoots back with, “You didn’t have to. I know what kind of family you come from—”
“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” I ask, my thread of self-control snapping, throwing my hands up in frustration. How is it we were fine until I gave an opinion, and suddenly she’s on the attack?
“It means I know who Jonathan Cassidy is and how big of a deal he is.” Her expression is cold, void of emotion, and I’m seeing red. How dare she bring my father into this or make any assumptions about me and my family? She has no fucking idea what she’s talking about.
“Don’t you fucking dare bring him into this.”
I’m so pissed, I must have missed Ripley coming into the distillery, but suddenly he’s beside me.
“Bring who into what?” he asks, his eyes pingponging from me to Thea, assessing the situation.
“My father,” I seethe as Thea has the audacity to look upset.
“He’s trying to change too much. We don’t have money to just throw around,” she says, swinging her arms out with her words as her cheeks pink with anger.
“You asked for my opinion, and I gave it. No one said you had to take the ideas, fuck.” I step away from the table, turning my back to them before I completely lose my shit.
“Who fucking cares?” Ripley suddenly says, and I whip my head back.
He’s standing with his back to me, keeping his body between me and his best friend.
“Why would you bring his family into it, Thea? That’s so out of line.
You don’t know shit about him or his family.
” There’s an edge to his voice, but it’s laced with hurt, and I’m not sure if it’s for me or something more.
I want to be happy he’s sticking up for me. I want to feel worthy of having someone care enough to take my side. But I don’t want him risking his relationship with his best friend for me.
“Of course you’d take his side,” she huffs before storming off through the doors to the restaurant.
Ripley turns to me, a distraught look on his face. “Seth, I’m so sorry, she had no right.”
He reaches out to touch me, but I bat his arm away. I don’t want him to comfort me. I don’t want him to choose me. Not when I didn’t choose him. I don’t deserve it.
“The last thing I needed was you stepping in. I can defend myself just fine, I don’t need a knight in shining armor. I’m not a fucking damsel in distress, Ripley.” My words sting, I know they do because they hurt me the second they leave my lips.
Without another word, I march toward the doors to the outside, not able to look at him for a second longer without begging him for forgiveness and taking everything I just said back.
Just as I’m pushing open the door, I hear him say behind me, “How the fuck did I become the bad guy?”