Chapter 20
twenty
WHEN SHE SAW Aretha’s car parked in front of her shop, Whitney had to force herself not to turn into the parking lot as they returned to North Rustico. Everything inside her screamed to go directly there and leave Daniel and Ruby to find the rest of the way to the inn on their own. It wasn’t far, and the boardwalk entrance was just on the other side of the end of the harbor.
But if she stopped, there would be questions she couldn’t answer. One in particular. Why?
Whitney wasn’t keen on interrupting Ruby’s stunning silence with the news that Aretha had been trying to set them up for almost a month. And Whitney had been helping—oh, for money, naturally. Then she had sabotaged the whole thing by falling in love with the matchmaker’s mark.
No matter how many times she repeated that in her own mind, she couldn’t make it sound any prettier.
She forced herself to turn onto Harborview Drive and pulled all the way into the inn’s driveway.
“Well,” Ruby said, holding up the signed documents, “I suppose that was a successful trip.”
Then she disappeared, slamming the car door behind her and tromping a trail through the snow in a straight shot to the red door. She didn’t bother taking five extra steps to follow the shoveled path and had to shake the loose chunks from her pants on the porch.
“Well, that went well,” Daniel said from the back seat.
Whitney tried to match the smile in his voice, but her face refused to budge. “I have an errand to run. I’ll see you later.” She rolled out of the car without waiting for his response—probably an offer to join her—shoved her hands into her pockets, and hunched her shoulders as she ran in the direction they’d come.
She was breathing hard, the cold air searing her lungs, when she reached the shop. She grabbed the handle, but it refused to budge. Smacking the door several times, she called out, “Aretha? Are you in there? It’s Whitney!”
Everything inside was silent. Aretha’s car was still parked off to the side of the gray-shingled building, and while the sign on the door said C LOSED , the ceiling lights shone through the angled window blinds.
“Aretha?” She pounded on the door again with her fist, but still no response.
Maybe she was in the storeroom. After hustling around the side of the small building, Whitney tried the back door. It was locked too, but she could hear movement on the other side, so she knocked hard. “Aretha? It’s Whitney!”
The faded blue door swung open without notice, and Whitney had to jump back to avoid a black eye. If only Daniel had been so quick the first time she’d met him.
But this wasn’t about Daniel.
Actually, yes, it was. But it was more about her and what she’d done.
“What on earth, child? You look like a hive of bees has been chasing you.” Aretha paused long enough to do a head-to-toe perusal before holding open the door. “You better come in then and tell me what’s going on.”
Whitney nodded, unable to get any words past her labored breathing.
“You’ve got perfect timing. You can help me move some of these items onto the main floor.” Aretha shook her head as she handed Whitney a lamp for each arm. “Jack begged off with some excuse about last-minute Christmas shopping in Charlottetown, and if I didn’t know it was for me, I never would have let him go. But that man does love to buy presents.” She giggled as she picked up two more fixtures. “And I do love to receive them.”
Aretha led the way to the plain white door that separated the back from the store, then opened it wide enough for them to step through.
Whitney still panted like she’d run a 10K and couldn’t get her brain to sort through all the words she knew in order to speak the ones she needed to. But Aretha didn’t seem to mind as they carried several pieces up from the back.
“Get the other side there, would you?” Aretha pointed to a rolltop desk and grunted as she put her insubstantial weight behind it.
Whitney joined her, but the piece still didn’t move.
After several attempts, Aretha brushed her hands together and sighed. “Well, that can wait for Jack or Daniel.”
Leaning a hand against the desktop, Whitney swallowed through cotton and nodded, gasping for one more stabilizing breath. “Daniel,” she finally pushed off her tongue.
“Yes. I’m sure he’ll be by later.”
“No, I need to talk with you about him.”
Aretha finally stopped moving, her stillness leaving somewhat of a vacuum in the dimly lit space. But at least her silence allowed Whitney time to find the words she needed. Unzipping her coat and stuffing her mittens in her pockets, she took another breath, her lungs finally full again.
“What’s going on?” Aretha asked.
“It’s about Daniel—”
Aretha grabbed her hand. “Is he all right?”
“Yes. He’s fine.” Her face pinched painfully. “It’s me. I got in the way.”
“In the way of what?”
“Please,” she begged. “Let me just get this out.”
Aretha exaggeratedly bit her too-pink lips together, then pointed to mismatched seats with a raised eyebrow that seemed to suggest they sit.
Whitney nodded and sank into a creaky wooden chair. She prayed it didn’t give out before she could say her piece. Or maybe she should pray that it did so she didn’t have to.
The chair held, so she pressed on. “Daniel isn’t interested in Ruby.”
“Of course he is.” Aretha must have realized her mistake and clamped a hand over her mouth.
“He’s seeing someone.”
“What?” Aretha jumped to her feet, stepping side to side as though looking for an escape from their furniture confines. “Who? Why wouldn’t he tell me?”
“Because I asked him not to.”
“But who is it? Someone back in Toronto?”
Scrubbing her hands down her face and holding in a painful sigh, she said, “It’s me.”
Aretha opened her mouth, then closed it as she fell back into her chair.
Whitney had to take the opportunity to explain or she might not get another. “After you asked me to help you set them up, I did try. But when I invited them along on activities, Daniel was interested and Ruby sometimes wasn’t. And the more time I spent with him ... He’s a really great guy.”
“Yes, I’m aware,” Aretha said, sarcasm dripping from the short sentence.
“I couldn’t help it.” Her hands shook, and she tucked them under her legs, trying to get some semblance of control over her body. Her eyes and throat were already threatening a mutiny, but she couldn’t break down and beg for pity when she was in the wrong. “I tried to pull back. I really did. But when I wasn’t around, he came looking for me.”
“So, it’s his fault you went back on our agreement?”
“I never meant for it to get so out of hand. I wasn’t trying to get in the way. I just—we went sledding and then the mistletoe.”
Aretha crossed her arms, and hurt flashed in her eyes.
Whitney shook her head, wordlessly pleading for Aretha to understand. But it wasn’t Aretha who broke the silence.
“What was the agreement?”
She jolted toward the door to the sales floor to find Daniel and Ruby, silent and still as stone. Then slowly Ruby held up a key as though that explained how they had gotten in.
But Daniel only asked his question again. “What was the agreement?”
She prayed the ocean would rise up and swallow her right then, because she couldn’t handle finding out how much Daniel had heard.
Daniel clenched his fists at his sides. His fingernails bit into his palms, a welcome distraction from the scene playing out before him and the words ringing in his ears. Aretha and Whitney had had some sort of agreement. About him.
Aretha flew across the space and grabbed his upper arms like she’d done when he was a kid. Now he had to look down at her, but she still met his gaze. “Daniel, I’m so sorry. You were just so sad, and you deserve to be happy. I love you so much that I couldn’t stand to see you still hung up on Lauren.”
He wasn’t. He hadn’t been in a while.
But that didn’t matter. What mattered was, “What was the agreement?”
Whitney let out a muffled cry from where she still sat halfway into the furniture maze, head bent, hands covering her face, and hair falling forward like a veil.
Aretha glanced at Ruby, offering a half smile. “I thought you two would make a good couple. You’re both so smart and savvy. You could help each other’s careers. And your friends would probably get along. It just seemed so practical.” She laughed softly at herself. “And as I say it, it sounds like a merger. I’ve never known love to make that much sense.”
He felt like a broken record, but he had to know in no uncertain terms what Whitney had agreed to. He knew his aunt loved to poke her nose where it didn’t always belong. But she had never been—and didn’t know how to be—mean-spirited about it.
Yet Whitney had let him ramble on about Lauren, sympathized with the way he had been gaslighted. Had she been doing the same thing the whole time?
Acid bubbled in his gut, burning up his esophagus, and he crossed his arms just to apply some pressure there. “Tell me what you agreed to.”
“Oh, honey.”
Aretha rubbed his shoulder, but he shook off her touch. It was too much contact when all he wanted was the truth.
“I asked Whitney to help you find your way together. That’s all.”
“And in exchange?”
“I agreed to make up whatever she had left to earn for culinary school.”
He’d almost forgotten Ruby was there, but her snort of disdain broke the silence. “You should probably do more research before you try to set people up.” She tossed the black folder with the signed agreement on the table. “I’ll be passing your account to one of my colleagues.” She marched through the store and the door slammed behind her.
Aretha looked appropriately chagrined. “I may have suggested to her a few times that you were shy. Interested, just shy.”
“Aretha.” He rubbed his hands over his hair, tugging on it until the pain cleared his mind. “Why?”
“I hear how stupid it sounds with my own ears now, but I just wanted you to be happy.”
“Yeah, well...” He glanced over her shoulder, expecting to find Whitney, but the room was empty. She’d escaped. Just like he was going to.
Because whatever he’d thought they had was not real. It couldn’t be after this.
And if he hurried, he could get on the same flight off the island as Ruby.