14. Brooke
14
brOOKE
Lucas has to go to another meeting with Carmel and Ferret-face, so I have the morning free. Before he leaves, decked out in yet another custom-made suit and looking like a billion dollars, I order Lucas not to return unless he brings home at least two muffins, and mine better not have a bite taken out of it.
“I make no promises,” he tells me.
“I know where you sleep,” I threaten him. Then I grab my purse, sketchbook and pens tucked inside, and head downtown to capture some nature.
When I used to design sets, I’d always sketch my source material first. I don’t have a particular play in mind, but I’ve decided to create a set design for a forest scene, just for funsies.
It’s a quick, pleasant stroll to the park, aside from the skeptical looks I get from all of the townspeople who used to like me before I took up with that “no-good bastard Jasper.”
Jasper. Poor Jasper. If only the kids at high school hadn’t decided to prank him and tell me to meet him before prom at a hotel outside of town, making him think I’d stood him up... everything might have turned out so different.
I shake my head .
“That did not happen,” I say out loud.
I find a bench in the middle of the park, take out my sketching supplies, and get to work. I quickly fill a couple of pages with some ink and wash scenery, and I feel some of my tension fading away as my pen dances across the page.
I’ve only been there for about ten minutes when I experience a creeping sensation at the back of my neck.
I twist around to see Dorian Lawerence strolling down the pathway towards me, baring his teeth in a big, creepy smile.
Well, that was a fast meeting. Maybe Lucas just walked in, said he was having second thoughts, and walked out?
“Can I help you?” I say irritably.
“Beautiful day, isn’t it?” Dorian settles down on the bench next to me, uninvited. I slide to the end of the bench.
“Personal space bubble violation,” I inform him.
He throws his head back and laughs a practiced, stagey laugh, as if I just said something hilarious and he’s in on the joke.
“Where’s your better half?” he asks, and I realize that he means Lucas.
My heart sinks.
It wasn’t a fast meeting. There was no meeting at all. Lucas lied to me about where he was going and what he’s doing.
And I can’t for the life of me figure out why, or what else he’d be up to. He doesn’t have to make excuses if he needs some time to himself. He could just tell me he’s going for a walk, needs to clear his head, whatever. I’m far from clingy.
“I’m sure he’s out enjoying some small-town hospitality,” I say, frowning. “He’s your boss. Shouldn’t you be keeping track of him?”
“In other words, you don’t know,” he says smoothly.
I reply with a hostile smile. “Well, he is a grown man—even ties his shoes all by himself—so I’m pretty sure it’s okay for him to be out without a babysitter. ”
Dorian favors me with a pitying smile. “Listen, Susie, you seem like a nice kid. I like you.”
“No, you don’t.” I just don’t have the energy for this. “You don’t like anybody but yourself. And I don’t like you either, so please stop wasting my time and get to the point.”
His smile stays frozen in place. “All right. You seem really hung up on Jasper. I see the way you look at him. You had a crush on him back in high school and you never got over him leaving.”
I make an impatient gesture with my pen, which helps me resist the urge to poke him with it. “Thank you for the twenty-five-cent analysis. This changes everything. Anything else you care to share? Or you could just keep your thoughts to yourself. That works too.”
Dorian’s smile slips a little bit and his eyes gleam with anger.
“Susie, Jasper is a good guy, but his first love is and always will be business. A lot of women have made the mistake of thinking they can change that. And in fairness to them, Jasper kind of encourages them to think that way—at first—because he’s very passionate about everything, including his little side projects.” Now Dorian’s smile has turned positively nasty.
“Is that so?” I say, rolling my eyes.
“Jasper has a lot of little side projects. And currently, you’re one of them. Once he finishes our project here, he’ll return to work and to his actual fiancée in Manhattan.”
“Oh, really.” This is just getting boring. “What’s her name?”
“Why don’t you ask him?”
“Because we don’t have a romantic relationship, and I don’t care what he does in his off hours.”
I don’t know why I’m suddenly so angry.
Jasper would be the one with a fiancée, not Lucas, I remind myself. And anyway, Dorian’s probably lying. Definitely lying. He’s got an agenda here .
“Suit yourself.” Dorian shrugs his narrow shoulders. “It’s your life. But if you ever get the impression that Jasper is keeping secrets from you, you’re not wrong. Did you ever ask yourself why Jasper has to go to the cemetery to make phone calls?”
The cemetery?
That’s news to me. Is it true?
“Did you ever ask yourself what you’re going to do when Jasper decides not to rebuild downtown?” I parry. “You’re the main guy pushing for this, aren’t you? Maybe his vision no longer jibes with yours. Maybe you’re going to be job-hunting sooner than you think. Feeling a little insecure, are we?”
Dorian’s expression turns ugly. “I tried to be nice, Susie.”
“Not really.”
“All right, I’ll lay my cards on the table.”
“Again?” I scoff. “The table’s getting crowded.”
“I know what you’re doing. I know why you’re kissing up to him, acting all sweet and innocent. I know you’re just playing Jasper to get him to back off this project, and I’ll make sure he knows it too.”
“Which is it? I’m playing Jasper, or I’m madly in love with him and delusional about his feelings for me?” I slide away further, and now one butt cheek is hanging off the edge of the bench. It’s very uncomfortable. “Move, Dorian. You’re blocking my light.”
In more ways than one.
Dorian’s upper lip curls. “Listen. I actually care about Jasper. He gave me a chance when he hired me five years ago, and I’ve more than rewarded his trust. I’ve been with him longer than any woman ever has or will be.”
I shake my head at him. “What a sad life you envision for him. Are you going to rent adjoining chairs in the nursing home when you’re both bitter, single old men? Is that your dream? ”
Dorian lets out a hiss of exasperation. “Why are you so selfish, Susie? Why are you trying to ruin this for him? He needs this project. It’s the only way for him to make peace with his past.” Dorian waves his arms wildly, his eyes bugging out of his head.
“By destroying the lives of a bunch of people he hasn’t seen in over a decade, instead of learning to face them?” I stand up. “Good luck with that.”
“I won’t need luck,” he snarls. “I have his best interests at heart and he knows it.”
I turn and walk away without bothering to answer, stuffing my sketching supplies back in my purse. Rats. I was really getting into my sketching groove again, but Sammy Snake had to slither into the garden and ruin everything.
The book in my purse vibrates. “I know, I know. We just identified the villain in the plot,” I murmur. “Okay, so that’s progress, I guess.”
I’m baffled about what’s going on with Lucas though.
The cemetery? Has he really been going there?
With nothing else to do, I head in the direction of the cemetery, which is located about five blocks off Main Street. As I’m walking, I keep running into people who know me. And I know all of their names—every single one of them. I recognize them all now. I only have to focus a little bit to bring up their backstories too. It’s a very eerie experience.
I hurry to the cemetery, staring straight ahead.
Lucas is in the cemetery, standing next to a gravestone, his back to me, talking on his cell phone.
I walk up to him very quietly.
His tone is angry and impatient. “Listen, you really need to stop calling me. I told you that.”
He hangs up, shoves his phone in his pocket, and turns around. When he spots me, a brief moment of surprise flashes across his face .
“Hey,” he says as I walk up. “My meeting got out early.”
“Good for you. Did you have a productive meeting with Dorkian?”
Lucas looks uneasy. “Uh, yeah. I mean, as productive as a meeting with him can be. You know how he is,” he says vaguely.
Okay. So he’s sticking with his story about meeting Dorian.
What the hell is going on here? Dorian’s obviously a lying snake, but he’s not wrong that Lucas is keeping secrets from me.
“I have a general idea of what he’s like, yes.” I stare right at him. He meets my gaze steadily. “Who on earth were you telling to stop calling you?”
His brows draw together in a scowl. “Someone I’ve never met before, who insists I know them.”
“Well... maybe in this universe, they do know you?”
“Probably. It’s just some annoying side plot, I guess. Do you want to go get some lunch?” he says wearily. “I can send Carmel to pick it up for us, or we could ask Brenda, or we could see if anyone in town will serve us today.”
“Was Carmel at the meeting this morning? Because I don’t see any muffins.”
His gaze finally slides away. “Uh, no. I’m pretty hungry. Shall we get going?”
“Okay. Lead the way.” As we walk away, I glance back at the gravestone he was standing next to.
It’s the gravestone of Herman Whitfield. Lucas has been visiting the grave of his fictional father.
What does it mean?
And why does Manhattan feel further away than ever?