Chapter 24
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Leo hadn’t meant to say those words, but Andie had riled him up on a day when he’d already punched a tree. How could she think he just let life happen? He didn’t. He made his own destiny, his own mistakes.
Which is why he’d not only waited too long to ask her out, but also managed to mess it up in record time.
He ran a hand down his face, the motion causing his knuckles to sting. Didn’t stop the desire to punch something else—or kick his own ass. He wanted Dentz Antiques. The field, the location, the name, all of it. That was why no other option existed for him. Approval from his father? Well, that was never coming anyway—no need to bother searching for it.
His thoughts fought each other, and he couldn’t get the jumbled mess to settle. The seconds ticked past, each one sending Andie further and further away. Reminded him of the sight of her leaving, the pain and hurt on her face and knowing the part he’d played in putting it there, he couldn’t hang back. He had to go after her, had to do what he could to fix it.
Not that he knew what he’d say.
He burst into the living room, aiming for the front door sliding shut. Andie stood just on the other side; he could reach her. He could grab her and … and he didn’t know, but he’d find a way to make things right.
“Leo! I didn’t know that was Andie’s desk. I never would have sold it.” His father’s pleading voice halted his tracks.
Leo took in the older man standing there, no longer looking younger than his age but the opposite. The front door had just closed, Andie was in reach. His father wasn’t.
Dean stepped into view and gave him a look, one hand on his coat hanging by the door. “I’ll get her. She probably doesn’t want to talk to you anyway.”
Leo ground his back teeth together, hating the strong odds his brother was right. “You think you’re immune, you’re an accomplice.”
Dean shrugged. “I’ll take my chances.” He slipped outside, leaving Leo to face Glen in a room filled with their family.
His breaths came fast, a struggle to get them in and out. Everything inside tightened, a live wire snapping and crackling. How could he have wanted a pat on the back from this man? “You didn’t stop and consider the protocols that you set up and drilled into the rest of us for years? Didn’t pause and wonder why the desk was out back with no information on it. Didn’t think ‘Hey, let me send Leo and Dean a quick text before I create an irreversible problem?’”
With each breath Leo moved closer to his father, until he stared at the man, nose to nose.
“I didn’t think. I’m sorry.”
Glen didn’t back down. He stood his ground, owning his faults. If only this was one fault that could be owned.
“No. You didn’t think. You haven’t thought since you came to the shop and discovered the shards of broken plates and a clock destroyed. You watched me learn everything I could about restoration, ready to repair the one piece that I could fix. But no. You refused to think of me as anything other than a nuisance, to the point of giving up on your father’s dream, even though you have two sons wanting to continue his legacy.
“So, of course, you wouldn’t think that an item in the shop might not be for you. Because my skills don’t register, my talents don’t register. I’m an insignificant flea, and you’ll be happy to sell the business to anyone, even let it fold, rather than to give your son an olive branch.”
Leo backed up, fire blazing deep inside. A tiny voice whispered he’d just proven part of Andie’s complaint, he’d deal with that later. “I’ve paid my dues. Made up for a mistake years and years ago. I was a kid. I needed support and guidance. I’m done trying. I’ll start my own business. I don’t need yours.”
“Leo, I—”
Gayle touched Glen’s arm, shook her head. “Give him time.”
Leo pulled out his phone, heading for the door, then caught the text from Dean, I’ve got her . The rock-hard knot deep inside uncoiled a fraction. Andie was safe. And if Leo didn’t want to talk to Glen, he doubted Andie wanted to talk to him.
A small hand grasped his. He glanced down at Millie’s face. “Uncle Leo? I made you a special gift.”
A part of the internal fire dissipated and a smile he wasn’t sure he felt appeared for his niece. “A special gift, huh?”
She nodded and pulled him over to the couch. His parents had left the room, though raised voices could be heard. Leo found Jodie’s gaze.
“I’m sorry,” he mouthed.
She shook her head, brushing it off. “Not your fault,” she mouthed back.
He focused on Millie. Somehow, everything became his fault. Maybe Glen took most of the blame for this one, but with Andie, Leo and Leo alone held the title.
Andie made it to the end of the driveway before pausing at the mailbox and realizing she had no transportation and no direction. The cold wind nipped at her, and she tugged her jacket closer, pulling out her phone.
A leaf blew across a neighboring yard as she debated her options. She could call Sarah, or a ride share, or simply walk and let off some steam. Her feet didn’t want to stay still and either of the other options would require her to sit and wait.
Walking won.
She shoved her phone back in her pocket and let one foot flow in front of the other. The crisp ground crunched beneath her feet. She wanted to focus on nature, instead of the pain shattering her.
Why had she ever let Leo take her desk? Sure, it had seen better days, but she should have never trusted him, not with something so precious.
A car pulled up next to her, rumbling. The passenger window rolled down and Dean leaned over. “I know you’re probably pissed at me as well, and rightfully so, but want a ride?”
“Why would I be pissed at you?”
Dean’s eyebrows rose. “Beyond the fact that I helped Leo move your desk to the store? I waxed it for him last night. If I hadn’t, it wouldn’t have been ready to go. I’m equally responsible for what happened.”
“You just helped your brother.”
“Hey, I’ve done a lot of damage with my helping, let me have this one.” He pouted and despite everything, she had to laugh.
“Okay. I hate you. Does that make you feel better?”
Dean shifted, crossing the seat, and the door swung open. “Definitely. Now get in.”
Ahead of her a vacant street stretched out, houses on either side leading up to a more populated road. She’d have to walk past a lot of homes before reaching any sort of public establishment.
Andie got into the car.
“Thank you.” Dean pulled out his phone and fired off a text. “To Leo, just so that he knows you are okay.”
“Not his concern.”
Dean put the car in drive and got on the road. “Perhaps. But my brother is still going to worry, and this prevents him from walking around, looking for you like one does a lost dog.” Dean stopped the car, Andie lurched in her seat. “Unless you want him doing that? Might feel good to know he’s out here wandering through the neighborhood yelling your name, right?”
Andie shook her head. “Can you take me home? And not tell him?”
Dean focused forward and resumed driving. “Whatever you want.”
He let the silence take over, and she slumped in her seat, suddenly very tired.
“For the record, he really cares for you. And even if he didn’t, he wouldn’t want something to happen to any of his repair jobs.”
Andie said nothing and thankfully Dean didn’t press it further.
“The lobby has lights, that’s got to be some small miracle.”
Andie pulled her attention from the unfocused image of buildings and trees to the apartment complex in front of her, the one where lights shone in various places.
Small miracle indeed. It brought an ounce of comfort, knowing she had a warm, safe place to go to.
Dean parked and faced her. “And no, I won’t tell Leo. It’ll be our little secret.”
Andie couldn’t muster much more than, “Thanks.”
Dean tapped his wheel. “Need anything? I feel bad about the crap that went down. You didn’t even get dinner.”
And the power had been out long enough that she doubted anything in her fridge survived. “It’s fine.” She wasn’t hungry anyway. “Thanks for the ride.”
“It’s the least I could do.”
Andie unbuckled, more than ready for this day to be over. Here, she’d thought Leo saved her from a depressing Chanukah. Instead, she doubted she’d be able to enjoy the holiday in the years to come.
“Hey, wait a second.”
She faced Dean, hand on her door handle. He held out a card.
“At least take my card, it has my cell number on it. If you need anything, even kicking my brother in the pants, let me know.”
Andie accepted the card and tucked it into her pocket. She’d already said thanks twice and didn’t know what else to say. The day had turned into one of the worst she’d ever had, and considering she’d lost her father, that was a high pole to climb.
“Happy Chanukah, Dean.” She tugged on the handle to open it.
“Happy Chanukah, Andie. Sorry this one repeated the destruction of the temple.”
The early evening air swirled around her, welcoming her into the night. “Just my luck, no Maccabees around to save the day.” She closed the door and headed to her building. The lobby held a warmth that guaranteed power restoration, and Andie breathed a little easier. At least she’d made it home.
Dean drove off as she opted for the stairs, climbing to her unit, desperately not thinking of taking these with Leo or of how they had later kept warm. No. Those memories would not give her any further comfort, since without them she’d still have her desk.
Her dark apartment greeted her and she flipped on the light, following how it pooled in the empty spot where her desk belonged. A sob wretched through her, but she shoved it down, used it to fill the new hole deep inside. She wouldn’t cry over a desk, or the man who’d taken it from her.
In need of a distraction, she went to her fridge. The insides were nearly the right temp, but not quite. Made it easier in playing the game of toss or not, since toss had already won. She got rid of anything temperature perishable, filling an entire trash bag, leaving her with bread, soda, apples, and jam. It would make for an interesting dinner. In her freezer she kept only the ice, then sat down with her carton of half refrozen ice cream.
The tears wanted to come again, and she froze them with her treat. She needed action, needed to find a way to regain control over her situation. And one clear answer came to mind. She grabbed her phone, ready to fire off an email to accept the Ohio position, only to be derailed by her text folder.
A new message waited for her, and after biting her lip and claiming another spoonful of ice cream, unsure if she wanted a message from Leo or not, she clicked. Curiosity had always been her downfall. Only the message wasn’t from Leo.
Sarah: How goes Chanukah with Leo’s family?
The thought of having to share everything that had happened had a tear slipping free, sliding down her cheek. She didn’t need Leo, not anymore, but she did need her friend.
Andie: I’m home. It’s over.
The response came almost instantly.
Sarah: Over as in an early night and you’re having fun solo time with Leo or over as in this should be read as an SOS friend message.
Andie wiped another tear, her vision starting to blur.
Andie: SOS.