7. Maddie
7
MADDIE
“This is bad. So bad. I can’t believe you didn’t call me immediately,” Naomi said from behind her fingers, which still covered her mouth.
“I don’t know. It looks like she jumped right on taking care of the bigger problems.” Pops squeezed Maddie on the shoulder gently. “Did Garrett say how long it’ll be before the window can be replaced?”
“A month at least. Maybe more. He says it’s gotta be custom ordered.”
At least Pops seemed to be taking this well. He’d shown up early this morning—someone in town had seen the plastic on the window and called him. Predictably. Nothing in Brandywood happened without Pops knowing about it. It was a small miracle that Brooks had crashed when he did—on a Sunday a few hours before dawn might be the only time he would have been less likely to be seen.
Not that Maddie was fully confident someone hadn’t seen something . After all, Travis had needed to tow the wrecked car away. But fortunately, for as many businesses as there were on Main Street, only a handful of them had residents living on the upper floors. Retail space on Main was a premium, and most of the buildings near the Depot in the last few years had become purely commercial.
Naomi was clearly agitated. “This is a disaster.” She directed a sharp look at Pops. “We’ll need to close for the day.”
Pops’s normally pleasant expression darkened. “We can’t do that. Some people have traveled here just to see the Depot. That’s not fair to them.”
“Not everything in life is fair. Just ask Maddie about what happened last night at the fair committee meeting.” Naomi flicked her annoyed expression at Maddie.
Maddie squirmed. Naomi wasn’t intending it as an attack, but somehow Maddie couldn’t help but feel defensive about the whole thing. Like she’d lost the big act for the town fair concert by dating a jackass. “I know, I know. I should have signed a contract.” She couldn’t keep the defeat out of her voice. “I got the deposit back, though.”
Naomi raised her eyebrows, a flare of surprise lighting her expression. “Wait a minute. You mean to tell me you never had them sign a contract?”
Maddie shifted her weight back, crossing her arms. “I didn’t think I needed to. It never occurred to me that Josh would dump me and then have his cousin switch the dates on us. I just thought?—”
“Always get a contract, Maddie. Always. Even with people who are legit and you don’t think would break their word.” Naomi shook her head. “I can’t believe I’m having to tell you this.”
Guilt spilled into Maddie’s throat with an acid clench. Oh shit.
Naomi is really going to flip when she finds out about my handshake deal with Brooks Kent.
“Well, lesson learned,” Pops said. “But it needs to be taken care of right away. The festival is a little under a month away. Though I heard Maddie assured TJ she’s got another act lined up.” He gave Maddie a curious look.
Great. The last thing she wanted to do was continue that stupid lie.
Thankfully, Naomi spoke up. “Speaking of another act, we could also consider getting quotes for the repairs in here by someone other than Garrett. I know we all love him, but there are other contractors in the world.”
Pops shook his head. “I don’t just love Garrett. He’s one of our own. The whole point of all I’ve done and built is to give back to Brandywood. After all the ill will from the Depot last year and with the tourist center about to open, I want our town to know how much I will support every one of them.”
A lump formed in Maddie’s throat. Pops had been through so much in the past few years. The highest of highs—a random appearance on a cookie recipe special for the magazine that Sam Doyle had worked for—had led to an unexpected career and fame. He’d gotten a television show on the Happy Home Network, a line of branded products, built the Depot, providing careers for all his grandchildren to manage his mini empire.
And he’d reconnected with his former flame, marrying Bunny Wagner the year before.
But the work had taken a toll on his health, forced him to retire from bartending at the pub he’d built and worked in most of his adult life, and turned half of the town against him. Many of Brandywood’s residents had disliked the changes and tourists who now came for Peter Yardley and his Country Depot.
Even though Lindsay and Travis had worked out a solution that had pacified those angry residents, Pops still carried the weight of so much on his shoulders.
Maddie was so proud of him. He always did the right thing, trying to see the best in everyone and lending a listening ear to people who came to him for help.
Even if they don’t always deserve it.
She couldn’t lie to her grandfather about the fall festival. “I don’t really know if I’ll get a bigger musical act than River House,” she said, returning the conversation back to his earlier question. “But I’m working on it.”
“We need to be realistic.” Naomi frowned. “River House was sheer luck. It’s not like we’ll have another band that big just walk through the front door.”
Maddie straightened.
Actually . . .
No. She couldn’t even consider it . . . could she?
Brooks Kent wasn’t just a singer. He was an enormous star, with all the arrogance of one, too. If she asked him to sing at the charity festival, he’d probably laugh in her face.
But he owed her a favor.
Even if he skulked out the door this morning when I was asleep.
Whatever reason Brooks had for wanting his privacy, she’d granted it to him. Naomi and Pops didn’t know the full extent of things, and Maddie wasn’t sure she could keep it a secret if any more people knew. Between Dan, Travis, and Garrett, too many people knew already.
Instead, she’d told her family that the accident had been a hit-and-run and she’d turned the security footage over to the cops. If her family knew the truth, they’d be furious. She already felt horrible lying to them, but as long as the bills for the damage were paid, she could live with it.
Which is exactly why I should take full advantage of the situation and get something out of it I really need. She wasn’t beneath blackmail, especially for a jerk like Brooks.
Still, the idea made her stomach turn. No wonder Brooks wanted privacy. She barely knew the guy, and she was already thinking of getting him to do something for her.
He probably got that a lot.
She had his cell phone number, but he’d slipped out of her apartment without a note of thanks or any attempt to say goodbye. She doubted he intended—or wanted—to return. Or to talk to her about anything other than the damages.
“I’ll come up with something for the festival.” She plastered on a smile full of fake confidence. “Just give me a couple of days.” Even if she had to devote every waking hour to it, she would do her best.
Pops nodded, then checked his watch. “I should get back home. Bernadette will wonder what happened if I’m not back to get ready for church.”
That Pops had a wife now was still something Maddie hadn’t fully wrapped her head around—or that the wife was Bunny Wagner. It had to be weirder for Lindsay, though, considering that Travis was Bunny’s grandson. She’d already gotten some comments about love running in the family.
Maddie kissed his cheek. “Sorry to bring you out here so early on a Sunday.”
“I’ll always take an excuse to see my girls.” Pops hugged her tightly. “Walk me out to the truck, will you? I have a bone to pick with you.”
Maddie nodded, then followed him out the main door onto Main Street. The town was already coming to life, alive with the colors of the coming fall. Maddie loved the yellows and reds that popped up everywhere this time of year—it made everything feel more vibrant.
Pops’s truck was on the curb, and he stopped by the tailgate, then scanned her face. “I understand you came home from that meeting quite upset yesterday.”
She squirmed. “Yes, and I know I messed up by not having River House legally?—”
“I don’t care about that. You could have a one-man band with a harmonica up on stage for all I care.” He brushed his knuckle gently against her cheek. “I don’t enjoy hearing that one of my grandchildren is hurting so much she can’t get herself out of bed. That Josh really did a number on your heart, didn’t he?”
Maddie’s breath caught as she searched Pops’s eyes.
Josh.
Funny how she hadn’t thought about him at all this morning. After Brooks had crashed into the Depot, it was like her brain had refocused.
She swallowed hard, then nodded. “Yeah, but I’ll be okay.” The last thing she wanted was any more unwelcome advice about how she needed to get over Josh already.
“You know, some of us Yardleys just feel things harder than others. Look at me—I never forgot my first love, no matter how many years had passed.”
“If you’re telling me I need to wait fifty years for Josh until Gina is dead, I’m gonna say no right now.”
Pops chuckled. “No, that’s not what I’m saying. And even I didn’t spend my life waiting around for Bernadette. I wouldn’t have my wonderful family if I had. I just wanted you to know it’s okay. I understand. So you fell in love quickly with Josh? That doesn’t mean it wasn’t real. Genuine love takes time to heal from when it’s gone.”
She sighed, her heart squeezing. “That’s the thing, Pops. I’m not even sure it was so much Josh I was in love with. More like. ..the idea of him.”
Pops raised his eyebrows skeptically.
“I’m serious.” She tucked her hair behind her ears. “Think about it. So many people we know—including you—have the most amazing love stories. You married your lifelong love after forever. Travis and Lindsay are practically Romeo and Juliet. Even Jen Cavanaugh. Her love story is like something out of a book, including the part where she married a multimillionaire.”
Pops frowned. “And that’s what you’re looking for? A fairy-tale romance?”
She drew in a slow, deep breath. It sounded so silly when he said it that way. “Maybe? I mean, would it be so terrible if a handsome and dashing Prince Charming came into town and swept me off my feet?”
“The problem with the fairy tales isn’t that love doesn’t happen that way, it’s that you don’t get to pick the one you get. You might be looking for the wrong sort of prince.”
She smiled halfheartedly, knowing that he meant well by trying to indulge her with the conversation. “Or there’s no prince.” Heaviness clouded her thoughts. “My love story just might be more ordinary. Fewer fireworks.”
“There’s no such thing as ordinary love. Being in love is a wondrous thing. Nothing ordinary about it.”
“You’re too romantic for your own good, Pops.”
“That’s the pot calling the kettle black.” He winked at her. “Didn’t you just say you wanted a prince to ride in on a white stallion? You may as well have sung that you wanted more than this small-town life.”
“Oh, stop.” Somehow, his ribbing made her feel better. Strangely, this also seemed like a conversation she could only have with her grandfather. Like he was the only person who would understand.
He hugged her again. “Just keep your eyes—and heart—open. You never know. Your prince might not be so obvious.” He turned to go. “By the way, I hear Cormac Doyle is in town. He might know a band or two willing to play at the fair.”
True.
And he’s probably hanging out with a rock star who owes me.
She needed to banish the manipulative thought. Was she really considering blackmailing Brooks?
“Doesn’t hurt to ask, I guess. It would be good to see Cormac anyway.”
“I think he might be up at the Doyles’ old cabin with a friend.” He patted the back of his truck, then climbed on inside.
It wasn’t until Pops had pulled away from the curb that Maddie processed his words. The cabin? Hadn’t Garrett said something about it not being usable?
But if Cormac was there with a friend, it had to be Brooks, didn’t it?
She pulled out her phone. Maybe a quick Google search could tell her if Cormac and Brooks were friends. There might even be pictures of them together. Or she could stalk Brooks’s Instagram and see.
But when she typed Brooks Kent into the search engine bar, a headline caught her attention:
brOOKS KENT ARRESTED FOR ASSAULT IN MARYLAND.
Maddie’s eyes widened.
What the hell?
The headline was from . . . just a few hours ago.
Wait. What?
She opened the article and scanned it, trying to keep the butterflies in her stomach from whipping into a roiling nausea.
The article was damning.
Brooks had been arrested the night before, apparently, before a concert in Baltimore . . . for attacking a man who had ended up in the hospital with his injuries. And witnesses claimed he’d been drinking—maybe even on drugs—beforehand.
Shit.
Shit.
No wonder his face was bruised.
And she’d let that creep sleep on her sofa?
How was he out of jail already? And what. The. Fuck ? Why had he been driving?
No wonder he hadn’t wanted her to call the cops.
Asshole.
Still, he hadn’t seemed drunk. Maybe he was just that good at hiding it.
His sudden, unannounced departure this morning—slipping out like a thief—now seemed more ominous.
What if he intends to screw me over with paying for the damages?
Sure, she’d had Dan take a report, but it wasn’t official.
Her family was going to kill her.
Maybe she was too naive and trusting. Emotional. Whatever the hell else Naomi and Lindsay had called her last night.
She had photo evidence, though.
Photo evidence that could be used in more ways than one.
Seething, she stormed back inside. Naomi’s head shot up from where she was bent over a broken display table. “We have so much inventory to figure out—where are you going?”
Maddie breezed past her, heading to the back of the store. “I need the day, Naomi. I have some important things to take care of.” Thank God she hadn’t told Naomi about the deal she’d made with Brooks Kent to take care of the damages.
I can still fix this.
And maybe even get Brooks Kent to solve another problem for her. He owed her. And now she understood just how much.
She had to find Cormac Doyle.