Chapter 7
Ryder
FRéDéRIC CHOPIN — WALTZ IN C-SHARP MINOR
After going back down the tower, which was admittedly easier than climbing up, I head back to the fountain. Most of the kids have dispersed, but Gwen is still there with John and Michael.
“Did you slay the troll?” Michael asks, wide-eyed.
“I did!” I say, bending down to meet him at eye level. “You’re safe now.”
Big fib. Lily was nothing like a troll, and she doesn’t need slaying. She needs to be saved.
I wish I could have been the prince she needs and rescued her from whatever’s keeping her up there.
What’s wrong with me? I never care this much about other people, especially not women. Gwen and Peter are the only people I really care about. But something about Lily makes me want to slay a dragon.
“Yay, Ryder!” Michael pumps his fist in the air and does a little dance in a circle.
Gwen smiles down at him, then looks back at me. “Really, what was up there?” she asks quietly, curiosity in her expression.
“I’ll tell you later,” I reply.
But will I? Lily said not to tell anyone she was here. Hopefully Gwen will just forget about it.
“I should go grab everything for dinner,” I say.
Gwen and I have an arrangement that I’ll cook dinner for her while I’m staying at her place.
She calls it my penance. I’ll gladly accept free rent for cooking her meals, especially considering how my bank account is closer to zero than ever.
Gwen and the boys wave goodbye, and I head over to the shops.
I have to get used to walking everywhere in Brookhaven again, since cars aren’t allowed in the center of town, but it gives such a quaint, homey feel to the whole city.
Besides, I don’t mind not driving after… well, I don’t like to talk about that.
There isn’t a main grocery store here, either, so I have to pick up the different ingredients at different markets. As I’m leaving the butcher shop with a couple of steaks, I run into Suzette, whose husband is the baker.
“Ryder Hawthorne?!” she cries, rushing over to me and smothering me in a hug.
“Hello, Suzette,” I say, my voice muffled in her shoulder.
She pulls back and squeezes my cheeks in her firm grip. “It’s so good to see you! Are you back in town?”
“Just for a few weeks,” I reply.
“Oh, you’ll just have to come to book club tonight!” She ruffles my hair, making it stick out all over the place.
“I think I might be busy.”
She raises a brow at me. “I’m sure you have some time for your favorite ladies.”
Before I can protest, she cries out, “Rosalie! Look who’s here!”
I turn over my shoulder to see old Rosalie and her walker. “DID SOMEONE CALL ME?”
“YES, ROSALIE,” Suzette shouts directly into my ear. “COME HERE, IT’S RYDER HAWTHORNE!”
I rub my ear as Rosalie slowly pushes her walker in our direction. “IS THAT RYDER HAWTHORNE?” she shouts.
“YES, DEAR,” Suzette shouts again. This time I have the sense to pull back from the sound waves.
“Hello, Rosalie,” I say, bending down to hug her. She lets go of her walker with one hand and wraps a firm arm around my waist, then slaps me on the rear end.
I’m not kidding.
“RYDER, DEAR, IT’S LOVELY TO SEE YOU. I HOPE YOU’LL JOIN GWEN AT BOOK CLUB TONIGHT.”
“Oh, I’m not sure I’ll be able to make it,” I say.
“WHAT WAS THAT?”
I clear my throat and try to speak more loudly. “I said—”
“GRACIE! COME SEE RYDER HAWTHORNE! HE’S ALL GROWN WITH A FIRM REAR END!”
I think I’m going to die of embarrassment, especially now that all the shopkeepers are watching the spectacle in the center of town.
Gracie is unusually spry for her old age, and her looks haven’t changed at all, except her dark brown hair has streaks of gray. And apparently her hearing is just fine. She saunters over to us and gives my arm a gentle squeeze. “Hello, Ryder. It’s good to see you.”
“It’s good to see you, too, Gracie.”
“I was just asking him to come to book club tonight,” Suzette says.
“Oh, that would be lovely,” Gracie confirms. “The club meets in my shop every week.”
Gracie owns the Brookhaven bookshop, which is where Gwen would drag me as teenagers and taught me to love reading. It’s also where I got my first copy of The Count of Monte Cristo.
“WHAT ARE YOU SAYING?” Rosalie chimes in. “IS HE COMING TONIGHT?”
“I’d love to,” I say as loudly as I can, “but—”
“WONDERFUL!” Rosalie lifts both hands off her walker and claps, then nearly topples over. I grab her elbows and pull her to standing, steadying her hands on her walker.
“MY HERO,” she says, batting her lashes at me.
This is getting weird.
“I’LL MAKE SOME LEMON BARS FOR TONIGHT. I REMEMBER THOSE WERE YOUR FAVORITE.”
“No, Rosalie, I—”
“SEE YOU LATER, DEAR.” And she shuffles away, the squeaks of her walker slowly fading.
Gracie pats my arm. “See you tonight, Ryder.”
“I guess so.”
And that is how I end up at book club a few hours later, after eating a pretty delicious steak dinner with Gwen, if I may say so myself.
There are six of us sitting in a circle in Gracie’s bookshop, eating treats and drinking tea.
I haven’t read the book they’re discussing, a cowboy romance that Gwen made sure to inform me was “free of spicy scenes,” whatever that means.
Rosalie is sitting right next to me, and she keeps making these googly eyes at me as she talks about the rugged cowboy who falls in love with the feisty, stubborn heroine who appears on his farm.
“I IMAGINE THAT LUKE LOOKED AN AWFUL LOT LIKE RYDER HERE.”
Gwen stifles a giggle beside me, and I cram more of Rosalie’s lemon bar into my mouth.
The door chime sounds behind us. “Sorry I’m late!” Agatha’s British accent rings through the room.
The ladies all rattle in with phrases of, “It’s fine,” and “We’re just glad you’re here!” as they all stand to hug Agatha.
“Ryder,” she says, her face brightening when she sees me. “It’s good to see you again. Twice in one day.”
My mouth drops open slightly. Did she see me in Lily’s closet?
“Twice?” Suzette repeats, voicing my question.
“Oh, yes!” Agatha says with a laugh. “I should have said hello in the marketplace, but I spotted you with all these ladies surrounding you.”
I exhale with relief. She didn’t see me in her tower.
“I look forward to seeing you more,” she continues.
“Same here,” I say with a grin. And it’s true. Agatha is wacky as can be, but I enjoy being around her.
Rosalie interrupts our moment. “WHAT DID SHE SAY? WHY IS SHE SO INTERESTED IN RYDER?”
“Nothing, Rosalie,” Agatha says loudly. “Thank you for making lemon bars.”
“ANYTHING FOR RYDER,” Rosalie says with a wink in my direction.
This is going to be a long night.
After my stomach is full of too many lemon bars, half my own doing and half because Rosalie kept shoving them in my face—they really are delicious—the book club part of the evening is over and it’s time to socialize.
I take that as my cue to leave; after all, I’ve endured an hour of discussion about swoony kisses and Luke’s physique. I’ve paid my dues.
But before I can leave, Agatha says, “Ryder, it’s so good to see you again. How long has it been? Two years?”
“I think that’s the last time I was here in Brookhaven, yes.”
“And how has the movie business been?”
“I’ve been on a break,” I reply. “But I have another movie lined up in a few weeks.”
“Mm. I see. I believe Adam’s break was good for him, as well. Even though it wasn’t by his choice.”
I nod, but I don’t really follow. I haven’t kept up with Hollywood gossip since I started my break, needing a mental separation from everyone and everything. Adam, Peter’s brother, has been a Hollywood staple for a few years. Has he not been acting either?
“But now that he’s done the movie with Isabelle,” Agatha continues, “he seems to be happier than ever. Although that’s probably more Isabelle’s doing than anything.”
I’m really lost, but before I can ask what she means, Gwen steps in to join us. “Agatha! How are you today?”
Agatha grins at Gwen. “Doing well, thank you dear.”
Gwen points at me. “Are you guys talking about what happened at the tower today?”
“What tower?” Agatha asks.
I try to make eyes at Gwen that say, “stop talking,” but she doesn’t get the hint. “Oh, the kids were playing in the fountain today and thought they heard something strange in your tower.” Gwen shakes her head, like oh, those kids. “And so Ryder offered to—”
“Go check what it was,” I cut Gwen off before she could tell Agatha I climbed the tower and went inside. “So I knocked on the door but no one was home.”
Gwen gives me a puzzled look, and Agatha looks slightly alarmed, then schools her expression back to neutral. “Ah. Well, I use that tower for storage. You know, all my costumes and things. It’s possible a cat or something got up there. I’ll…have to go check on that.”
I hold back a laugh at Agatha’s use of the same excuse Lily made for the noise in the closet. Who knew stray cats were running rampant in Brookhaven? “Yeah, maybe you should,” I say.
Agatha checks her nonexistent watch and chuckles.
“Well, I’d better be off. Might as well check on that cat!
” She waves a fringed sleeve at us. “I’ll see you both later…
partners!” She tilts her head, thinking.
“Although I’ll have to change that soon.
We’ll see what Grace chooses for our next book theme. ”
Gwen and I nod and wave goodbye, and as soon as Agatha is gone, Gwen hisses in my ear, “You have a lot of explaining to do.”
“Wait until we get home,” I reply.
Gwen has a fantastic memory, because the second we walk in her front door, she tosses her keys on the table and says, “Okay, WHAT is happening with Agatha’s tower?”
I swore I wouldn’t tell anyone, but Gwen isn’t just anyone. She’s basically the only family I’ve ever known and loved. I run my hands through my hair and confess. “I did climb the tower. And I found…Lily Stone.”
Gwen’s reaction is immediate and intense. Her mouth drops open, and she says, “Shut. Up.”
I shake my head.
“But no one has seen her since…well…” Her eyes glaze over, and she looks past me, deep in thought.
“Yeah, can you fill me in? She seemed to think I would know what’s going on with her, but how would I know?”
“Well, you’d think Peter would tell you. But beyond that, everyone knows what happened with Lily and Tristan.”
“Tristan who?”
She rolls her eyes and opens her laptop that’s sitting on the kitchen table. “I can’t believe I have to show this to you. Of all people, I’d think you would know.”
Again, the comment of all people. But I’m tired of looking like an idiot today, so I let Gwen navigate to YouTube and pull up a video.
Of Lily.
Sitting and facing the camera, her long hair unbraided around her and her blue eyes staring directly at the camera lens. She smiles and says, “Hi, everyone. My name is Lily Stone, and I’m going to tell you the story of how Tristan Jackson ruined my life.”
Tristan Jackson.
Those two words are enough to set a fire in my belly and a scowl on my face. Gwen notices and puts a hand on my shoulder.
“How long ago was this?” I ask.
“Last summer? Maybe the end of spring. I can’t remember for sure, but less than a year for sure. It created complete chaos. All the gossip sites blew up, and that’s why Tristan Jackson can’t get another job.”
My brain starts spinning. My first thought is Good, that jerk deserves it. But my second thought is about the young woman on the screen in front of me and the pain she must have endured.
Gwen stays with me while I listen to Lily’s story of being seduced and entrapped by Tristan, only for him to leave her the second her brothers found them and offered him money. Every sentence twists another knot in my stomach, and my fists clench on their own.
After the video is over, I turn to Gwen. “So she’s been hiding out since this video?”
“Before that, I think. Maybe a year and a half, ever since everything first happened with Tristan. Agatha was really upset in the fall before that. But she’s close-lipped about everything.”
I stand abruptly, the legs of the chair scratching against the floor. “I have to go.”
“Go? Where?”
“To see Lily.”
Gwen stands too, holding her arms up. “Ryder. Bad idea.”
“Why?”
She crosses her arms over her chest and fixes me with a big-sister glare. “What exactly are your intentions? You don’t have the best reputation, dear cousin.”
“Hey. She’s my best friend’s little sister. You said it yourself.” I furrow my brow. “I’m offended that you would even assume such nefarious things.”
“Oh, come on. The eternal flirt is heading to the tower where the lonely maiden has been held captive? I know exactly how that story ends.”
“Maybe you know how ONE story ends, but I swear, I’m not going there to try to hook up. I just…” I shrug. “I understand her.”
Gwen’s expression softens, and I think she gets what I mean now. “A common enemy.”
“Exactly.”
She sighs, her eyes flicking up to the ceiling. “Fine. But promise me you won’t do anything you’ll regret.”
“I would never.” I shake my head. “There’s nothing romantic there. Besides, I’m sure if Peter knew I could see her, he’d ask me to check on her.”
The mention of Peter always softens Gwen. She shoves my shoulder. “Go. Behave.”
“Yes, ma’am.” I pull my leather jacket off the hook and wave at Gwen, heading out into the chilly night, convincing myself that what I said to Gwen is true and I don’t feel any kind of romantic feelings toward Lily Stone.