Chapter 17
CHAPTER 17
MEYER
“I did it, Auntie M&M! Look!”
I grin down at the little boy proudly holding up his basket, three strawberries rolling around in the bottom. “Awesome, Attie. Keep going! I need lots of berries for my pies.”
Atticus nods and returns to his plant, carefully examining the fruit for ripeness. The furrow of his brows is downright adorable.
There are a few farms around Fraisier Creek that grow strawberry patches, and every summer, I spend some time at all of them, hand-picking the strawberries to use for my pies. The past couple years, Pippa and her son have joined me, and now it has become tradition for us.
“I knew it was going to be hot today, but I didn’t expect it to be this hot,” Pippa says with a groan. She adjusts the baseball cap on her head as she scrutinizes me. “Are you wearing sunscreen? ”
I laugh as I toss another couple berries into my own basket. “ Yes, Mom , I’m wearing sunscreen.”
My best friend glowers. “Hey, you’ll thank me in thirty years when you don’t have as many wrinkles.”
I throw an arm around her shoulders and tug her against my side, grinning. “Whatever would I do without you?”
Pippa tries to glare, but it quickly morphs into a smile and a laugh. I release her, and we continue plucking the berries from their plants in silence. Atticus chatters to himself farther down the row.
Then Pippa breaks the silence. “Have you heard anything more from the police about the vandalism?” she asks, voice low. For the sake of Atticus not hearing, but also the family in the next row over.
Sighing, I meet her eyes. “No, but I don’t expect to. It isn’t exactly high on their priority list, and who knows where Reggie is now. If he’s even the one who did it.”
She clutches the handle of her basket tighter. “If it wasn’t him, then who would it be? It’s not like you have a long list of enemies.”
That was the part that scared me. But Reggie is the most likely culprit. I made him angry when I fired him, so it wouldn’t come as a surprise if he wanted me to pay for that. Whatever part of him that made him steal from the inn could just as likely have made him take spray paint to the side of the building in an act of revenge.
But there is a small voice in the back of my brain saying what if it wasn’t him? I still find it hard to believe the man I’ve known for years would commit theft, let alone vandalism .
“I don’t know, Pip. No one else makes sense, but…”
The smile she gives me is sympathetic. “But you don’t want it to be him.”
I don’t. Because that means I didn’t see it. There had to have been signs, right? I was the one that pushed my mom to hire Reggie in the first place. She had started letting me observe more of the managerial side of things, and let me give my opinion on some potential hires. Reggie had been one of them. Did I blow past his red flags all those years ago?
“No, I don’t.” I sigh. “But it doesn’t matter what I want. Whether he did or didn’t do it, it’s over now. I’m moving on, and I hope everyone else does, too.”
Thankfully, the gossip mill is always churning, so I’m sure some small-town scandal will occur soon and steal everyone’s attention. Then they won’t have reason to dwell on me and the mess I’ve made.
Pippa looks like she wants to say more, but she bites her lip. I let out a relieved sigh and turn back to my work. It isn’t that I don’t want to confide in her. She’s the one person who knows just about everything about me. But sharing my insecurities is never easy, even with her.
“Jackson!” Atticus yells.
My head snaps up, conversation with Pippa forgotten, and watch as Jackson picks his way through the rows of strawberry plants to get to us. Although he isn’t dressed as casually as everyone else, I am surprised to see that he’s ditched his suit jacket today. And again, no tie. Just slacks and a button-down shirt.
Atticus drops his basket and makes a run for it, dodging another family as he beelines for Jackson. His new favourite person. Apparently. They’ve only met a handful of times, but that was evidently enough to sway the six-year-old’s opinion.
Jackson catches him when Atticus launches himself into his arms. They’re both grinning as Atticus excitedly tells him all about his berry-picking adventures thus far. I’ll admit, the sight is a little cute.
When I look away, I catch Pippa’s knowing grin. I roll my eyes. She thinks I’m warming up to the idea of Jackson hanging around, but I’m not. My resolve is firm. The day he heads back to the city is a day I will gladly celebrate. Preferably with balloons and a cake.
Jackson places Atticus back on the ground and then saunters up to me, as if he’s supposed to be here and he isn’t sticking his nose where it doesn’t belong. Which is a bad habit of his.
My eyes narrow on him. “How did you find me?"
He grins at the annoyance in my tone. “I asked Pippa where you were.”
I shoot my best friend a look. She offers me a not-so-guilty smile in return. We’re going to have to talk about this later because that is so not cool. She knows exactly how I feel about Jackson constantly being in my space, yet here she is, encouraging it.
I’ve begun to open up to the idea of working with him, but being out here in the strawberry patch is my time. Away from the inn and the constant pressure I feel to succeed, I can just be out here.
I turn back to Jackson, crossing my arms. “You’re interrupting girls’ day. What do you want? ”
He arches a brow. “Atticus is here.”
“Honorary nephews don’t count,” I reply. “So?”
“ So ,” Jackson says, “I thought I’d come help. Pippa said something about receiving a pie as payment for my services.”
I cut her a glare this time. Pippa, to her credit, looks slightly apologetic now. Good. She should be. Baking is my love language, and Jackson hasn’t earned that.
“Come on, Ellison.” His eyes are full of amusement. Of course he’s enjoying my displeasure. “Put me to work.”
“Ugh, fine.” I thrust an empty basket at his chest. “Fill this.”
Thankfully, he takes the basket without a word and follows Atticus over to his plant of choice. While they’re occupied, I grab Pippa’s arm and haul her away so my voice doesn’t carry.
“Why would you invite him?” I hiss.
“It’s hard being new in town,” she replies, raising her brows at me. She would know—it had taken her a while to feel settled when she first moved to Fraisier Creek. “Even harder when the people aren’t totally welcoming.” Another pointed look. “I didn’t want him to be alone this weekend.”
My irritation slips and in its place is begrudging empathy. Fucking shit . Leave it to Pippa to make me feel sorry for Jackson Vaughan.
“Alright, you win. I’ll play nice. For this afternoon.” I point a finger at her. “After this, I make no promises.”
She smiles, eyes twinkling in amusement. “Thank you. That’s all I ask.”
My eyes search the row ahead of us, landing on Jackson. His back is to me as he crouches low, helping Atticus pluck a particularly troublesome berry from the plant.
The last thing I want to do is ruin my day with Pippa and Atticus, so if that means including Jackson, I’ll do it. But I certainly won’t be happy about it.
After a long afternoon full of strawberry picking, we head inside the barn-turned-market for food and drinks. Along with baked goods, they sell a lot of local produce and they have a deli counter that sells fresh sandwiches. It’s one of my favourite places to come in the summer.
Despite the fact that Jackson has never gone to pick his own fruit before, he was annoyingly good at it. He always managed to fill his baskets faster than me. And by the end of it all, I was actually smiling. At him.
I think it’s safe to say the heat has gotten to my head.
Atticus drags Pippa across the building to look at some candy he’s eyeing, and Jackson goes to save us a table while I head up to the food counter. Just as I’m about to step up to place our order, a familiar voice stops me.
“Hey, Meyer.”
Rudy sidles up to my side. As far as ex boyfriends go, Rudy is a good one. We weren’t together long—hell, we weren’t even really together —but it was fun while it lasted.
“Hey,” I say. “Not working today?”
He shakes his head. “Damn pizza oven malfunctioned and screwed up some electrical shit. My dad had to close the shop for the next couple days while it gets sorted. ”
I bump his shoulder. “Looks like it’s a blessing in disguise. You never take a break.”
Rudy laughs, bumping me right back. “You’re adorable when you’re being a hypocrite.”
“Whatever. I’ll just keep your pie for myself, then.”
He holds up his hands in surrender. “I take it back. I said nothing.” Then he glances over his shoulder before leaning in closer. “You know, I am getting majorly burnt right now.”
This causes me to laugh. “What are you talking about? You’re inside.”
“Not from the sun, Meyer.” He hooks a thumb over his shoulder, in the direction of the table Jackson is sitting at. “From him . I can feel his eyes burning holes in my back.”
I scoff. “Don’t be ridiculous.”
“I’m not!” He arches a brow. “I saw the way he was looking at you the other week.”
“He wasn’t looking at me like anything,” I say. “And you know what, just because we were each other’s firsts doesn’t mean you should be privy to my sex life forever.”
Not that Jackson and I are having sex. Because we most definitely are not. Pigs would fly and hell would freeze over before that happened. Even then, I’d have to be seriously hard up to even think about it.
“I’m afraid that is a bond that can never be broken,” Rudy replies, hand placed on his chest.
I roll my eyes. “You’re a worse gossip than the old ladies at the seniors’ centre. Nothing is going on between me and Jackson. Now can we please talk about something else?”
“I did want to say that I was sorry to hear about the vandalism.” His expression has shifted from playful to serious in the blink of an eye.
I grimace. I’ve been getting condolences all over town lately. The news, as it often does in Fraisier Creek, travelled quickly. And while I want nothing more than to run and hide from all my problems—from the probing questions and sympathetic gazes—the well-meaning residents of this town don’t deserve that.
“Thank you,” I reply. “It was a shock, but I’m just trying to put it past me now.”
“Let me know if you need any help getting it all fixed up.”
This time, my smile is genuine. “I really appreciate that. I think we have it covered, but it means a lot that you would offer.”
He slings an arm over my shoulder, pulling me into a side hug. “Hey, we take care of our own here, Meyer.” He squeezes me once and then lets go. “I should probably get going before Lover Boy over there has an aneurism.”
“You are severely overestimating how much he cares about me. I’m pretty sure I make his life a hundred times more difficult.”
Rudy laughs. “Whatever you say. I’ll see you later.”
“Goodbye, Nosy Nellie.”
As he heads for the exit, I turn back to the counter and finally place our order. Then I step to the side and wait while the employees get started on our lemonades and sandwiches. It takes them a few minutes, but soon, everything is set on the counter for me .
I bite my lip as I contemplate how I’m going to carry everything, then I feel someone come up beside me.
“What are you doing?” I ask.
Jackson picks up a plate. “I’m helping.”
“What if I don’t want your help?”
“Then I’d say you’re too stubborn for your own good, and that’s too bad because you’re getting my help anyway.”
I huff, but I don’t argue. While Jackson takes care of our food, I grab our drinks. Turning away from the counter, tray in hand, I nearly collide with someone.
“I’m so sorry!” I say to the man. He’s the same one we saw at the park a few weeks ago. He must be new to town, or maybe he’s a tourist spending the summer here. “I wasn’t looking.”
The man looks down at Jackson’s hand, which now rests on the small of my back, steadying me. Then his gaze meets mine and he lets a smile spread across his mouth.
“It’s fine,” he says. “You have a good day.”
He walks away, but I stay rooted to my spot. The interaction was normal enough, but a weird feeling has washed over me. I can’t explain why.
“You okay?” Jackson asks, brows knitted together in concern.
I nod, forcing myself to let go of these thoughts. “Yeah, I’m good. Let’s go eat.”
As we head back to the table, I can’t help looking over my shoulder, but the man is already gone.