Chapter 10
Bess
I refuse to open my eyes.
I’ve been lying here, listening to the unfamiliar life of this house, but I know as soon as I open my eyes I’m going to have to face the day, and I don’t want to.
I’m not sure what time my body finally gave in to sleep, but it was a little after four the last time I checked my phone.
My systems were on overload, unable to process the chaos of events of the evening.
Starting with the unexpected invitation to dinner and what turned out to be an amazingly fun time until it shifted into a nightmare.
The whole night just kept playing in my head like disjointed movie scenes pasted together.
Anytime I would attempt to sort my thoughts in some order, try and zoom in on one thing so I could determine what my next step should be, another wave of random flashes would knock me off my focus.
The fact I ended up in Hugo’s massive bed, wearing his T-shirt, didn’t help matters.
I blame it on shock; last night I didn’t have the wherewithal to assert myself in any way.
Too numb to care, I simply tapped out. When Hugo showed me to his bedroom and offered me its use, I didn’t object.
In fact, I don’t think I would’ve said a word, even if he had crawled into bed with me and the box of comfort food I was clutching.
He didn’t stay, but he gave me one of his shirts to wear.
Where he ended up, I don’t know, but now I can hear him downstairs talking to Carson, putzing around the house, and I’m too much of a chicken to crawl out of my cocoon.
I must’ve fallen back asleep because the next thing I know, I feel someone sit down on the edge of the bed, pulling the covers off my face. I squint at the bright light of day, and am able to make out Hugo’s smiling eyes.
He reaches over and peels off a plastic wrapper stuck to my cheek.
Wonderful.
I should be embarrassed I stuffed my face with Twinkies in his bed last night, but at this point it almost doesn’t matter. It’s not like he hasn’t had a front-row seat to the absolute disaster my life turned into in these last twenty-four hours.
“It’s noon,” he shares. “I’ve held off the troops as long as I could, but Savvy was already here once this morning with a few things from your apartment, and she said she’d be back to talk to you.”
He points to the bag by the bathroom door, and I silently thank my bestie for thinking ahead.
“Also, Lola and Emmet called, and I told them you’d call them back.”
I reach over to the nightstand to grab my phone, but all my fingers find are more wrappers.
“I took it,” Hugo explains.
“What? Why would you do that?”
“Because when I checked in on you this morning and saw you’d finally dozed off, I wanted you to get some sleep and took it with me. It was almost out of juice too, so it’s charging in the kitchen.”
I hold my breath when he leans over and brushes my lips with his, and don’t release it again until he gets to his feet and moves to the door.
“I put some towels on the counter in the bathroom. Go grab a shower and get cleaned up before Savvy comes back, and I’ll go put on a fresh pot of coffee.”
The moment the door closes, I’m out of bed and heading for the bathroom, grabbing the bag with my stuff on the way.
One glimpse in the mirror has me groan out loud.
Between the giant bags under my eyes, one side of my hair sticking up, and the dried smear of pastry filling across my cheek, I’m not exactly looking my best.
Not smelling my best either; a combination of smoke, restless night, and morning breath. I can’t believe he voluntarily put his lips on me. I’m disgusting.
I strip in two seconds flat and step into the walk-in shower.
Twenty minutes later, I walk down the stairs feeling—and smelling—a hundred times better. Savvy is already sitting at the large kitchen island, a bottle of water in front of her.
“Good afternoon, Rip Van Winkle,” she says in greeting.
“Hey,” I return, taking a seat beside her.
Hugo immediately sets a cup of coffee in front of me. I don’t clue in until I take my first sip it was already doctored to perfection; generous on the cream with just a hint of sweet.
“Mmm. This is delicious. Just what I needed,” I mention, rewarding him with a smile.
“Don’t rub it in,” Savvy grumbles beside me. “I’m going to be stuck inhaling the fumes while drinking water and herbal tea for the foreseeable future.”
I should probably feel more sympathetic than I do, but if I am to deal with this day, I deserve this coffee.
“Where did Carson go?” I ask when I notice he’s not around.
“At my house,” Savvy answers, “helping Tatum paint the nursery.”
I smile at her. “You’ve got colors picked out?”
“Not me,” she scoffs. “That’s Nate’s project. He’s got a vision and I’m not about to mess with it. He wants it to be a surprise.”
She feigns annoyance, but I can tell she secretly loves it.
But talking about painting reminds me I probably have a bit of a project of my own to tackle.
“When can I get back into the building?” I ask her.
“Rick Althof is there now with the fire inspector, so give them another hour or two.” She reaches over to put a hand on my arm. “Brace yourself though. It looks pretty dismal in daylight.”
I nod, swallowing hard. The only way to the other side is to barge through this, so I’m going to have to toughen up.
“I’ll see if Lola and Emmet can meet me there and help me take inventory of what needs to be done. See if we can do clean up ourselves, or—”
“That may be a little premature. Besides, you’re gonna need professional cleaners for that. That smoke gets into everything,” Savvy suggests.
“I think before anything else,” Hugo weighs in, “maybe let’s take a notepad over, make a list of all the things that need to happen, and then prioritize before you call in the troops. You’re going to have to call your insurance company, they’ll want to send someone out.”
“Yes,” Savvy jumps in. “And Nate already offered to walk through with you to give you an idea of repairs that will need to be done. But get the adjustor in there, you’ll want to leave things as they are.”
The heavy feeling returns when I realize it means my plans to get busy and gain some control over this glitch in my universe will not start today, or possibly even tomorrow. In fact, I have no idea how long it’ll take to get an insurance adjuster in, so I can get to work restoring my life.
“What about my apartment?” I ask her.
She smiles sympathetically. “It’s smoky up there.
I ended up washing your things at home before I brought them here this morning.
It’s gonna stick to walls, furniture, fabric, and it can be pretty toxic.
You don’t want to breathe that in, which is another reason to bring in the cleaning pros, they wear protection. ”
The tentative tally I’ve started in my head of the things that are going to cost money is growing.
Hugo seems to sense where my mind is traveling and reaches across the island to give my hand a squeeze.
“That’s why you have insurance, and should put in a claim before you do anything else.”
I nod, at least that’s something I can do. I’m not good at sitting idle—I tend to get in my head if my hands aren’t busy—and the prospect of waiting around, twiddling my thumbs, is a scary proposition.
Then suddenly a thought pops in my head, and flies from my mouth unchecked.
“Where am I gonna stay?”
Hugo
“Here.”
My response is drowned out by Ragnar who starts barking. The next moment the doorbell rings.
Rick Althof is standing on my doorstep.
“I was told I could find Bess here, and I wanted a word. The boss is here too?”
“They both are. Come in.”
I immediately notice the strain on Bess’s face as she watches Althof approach.
“Grab yourself a coffee,” I offer, opting to move in behind Bess.
I slide my hand under her hair and curl my fingers around the back of her neck, feeling her lean into my hold slightly.
“The fire inspector is done,” Rick starts. “He confirms arson, and we should have his report by tomorrow morning.”
“I’ll make sure you get a copy,” Savvy offers her friend. “You’re going to need that for the insurance company.”
Bess nods. “Okay.”
“We figure the suspect came in through the side door by the kitchen. We know it wasn’t random.
This guy came prepared, because he had tools to cut out the small pane of glass so he could reach the deadlock.
It doesn’t look like this was a random robbery or a straightforward arson.
It’s obvious he was looking for something specific, because your office was a point of focus, as was your apartment upstairs.
We noticed a charging cable for a laptop in your office. ”
I feel her back go rigid.
“Just the cable? What about my laptop?”
“I was wondering about that too,” Rick mentions. “I’d hoped perhaps you’d brought it with you.”
She shakes her head. “It rarely leaves the office. Are you saying it’s gone?
What would anyone want with my laptop? It’s an older model, it’s not like it’s worth anything.
I keep my recipes on there, run a bookkeeping program and do payroll, but that’s an encrypted software and I have two step verification through my phone.
Other than that, I check emails, place orders, and maybe run the occasional internet search, but I do most of that on my phone. Same with banking.”
“The suspect clearly believes there is something important on there, or he wouldn’t have taken it and left the money in the cash register,” Althof points out. “Do you have any idea what he might’ve been looking for?”
“No. Nothing,” Bess responds, but I can hear the slight hitch in her voice.
Rick does too and narrows his eyes on her. “No documents, photos, letters, emails, contacts that might be of interest to someone?” he probes.
I clench my jaw at his tone. I understand better than most he’s doing his job, but I don’t like him pushing Bess, who is starting to tremble under my touch.
I have questions of my own I’d like to be asking her—I’ve had plenty of time to think about the fire last night and this morning—but I’m not about to badger her.
Not after watching her tap out last night, traumatized.
Fuck, I had to listen to my bed creak upstairs as she rolled around restlessly most of the night.
I was on the couch in the living room, wide awake too.
“No,” she repeats in a shaking voice. “I can’t think of anything.”
It’s Savvy who steps in to smooth over the sudden tension in the room, leaning forward to pat Bess’s wringing hands in her lap.
“Don’t worry, we’ll figure it out. Do you think you might be up to doing a walk-through of the coffee shop and your apartment to see if maybe anything else is missing?”
“Yeah. Okay.”
Despite her affirmative answer, I get the sense she’d rather crawl back into that cocoon she turned my bedsheets into and hide.
“Why don’t you guys go ahead and give us a few minutes, okay?” I suggest, directing my focus on Savvy.
She nods, understanding I want to give Bess a moment to process. Getting up, she addresses Rick.
“Let’s go, Althof.”
The moment the door closes behind them I swing Bess around and fold her in my arms, resting my cheek on the top of her head. She’s stiff as a board.
“It’s going to be okay,” I whisper against her hair. “I’m not going to let anything happen to you.”
It’s like a spring releases as she suddenly slumps against me, her fingers digging into my back.
We stand like that for a while, silently, even though a lot is being conveyed in body language.
I’m glad she’s at a point where she feels she can lean on me, quite literally at the moment.
Maybe the next step will be opening up to me.
I hope so; I’d really like to find out more about that brother of hers.
“I hate to be a bother.”
I take a step back and catch her eyes. They’re dry, but haunted.
“You couldn’t be a bother if you tried,” I assure her before adding jokingly, “but we should get going before they send out a search party.”
That seems to snap her into action and she darts for the stairs.
“I’m just going to splash some water on my face,” she clarifies as she heads up.
While waiting, I collect the coffee mugs and load them in the dishwasher. Then I remember Bess hasn’t had anything to eat yet, and quickly slap a peanut butter and jelly sandwich together. I’m sure it’s not up to her standards, but it’s a kick of protein and something in her stomach.
Since she’s still not back down when I’m done, I yell up the stairs.
“Hey! Let’s go, Twinkie!”
Two seconds later she appears at the top of the stairs. I can see she put a little makeup on, a little mask of protection, I imagine.
“Twinkie?” she returns as she comes down the steps, her eyes twinkling.
I shrug.
“Seems fitting, since that’s all you’ve eaten since dinner last night,” I point out, helping her into her coat and handing her the sandwich I made before I finish my thought.
“That, and, like you, it packs a lot of goodness in a small package.”
She smiles softly as I usher her out the door. Once inside my vehicle, she takes a healthy bite of her sandwich and, with a mouthful, turns to me.
“You’re getting pretty good at saying the right thing.”