Chapter 4. An Annoying Blast from the Past
CHAPTER 4
An Annoying Blast from the Past
My first instinct was to snatch my hands away and make a run for it. But he was too close, so I’d have to push him off or elbow him in the ribs if I wanted to escape, and my injured left arm didn’t really feel like it was up for the task. And if I wanted to be reeealllyy honest, his warm hand on mine felt kind of… nice.
I blinked once, then twice, trying to make sure that he wasn’t a figment of my imagination. Then to be extra, doubly sure, I lifted my good hand and poked twice at his right cheek, then his left cheek, and pinched his nose for good measure. Extra hard.
“Ouch.” He frowned at me, still dabbing at my left arm. “What was that for?”
Okay, so he was real. Alec Mackenzie, aka Sir Annoying McGrumpyface, formerly known as Eric’s BFF, was actually here. In the flesh.
Right in front of me.
“You.” I narrowed my eyes and glared at him. “Why are you here?”
He stopped cleaning my arm and stared at me, before returning my glare. “Eric called me.”
Him? He was THE HELP Eric had promised me?
This officially catapulted the day from bad to super-extra-extremely-the-worst.
This time, I really did snatch my hand away. “What? Why would Eric call you ?”
“You should ask him that.” Abandoning the first-aid attempt, he tossed the wet tissue into a nearby trash can, then stood up, giving me my first real good look at him. He was wearing a scowl on his face and a well-fitted charcoal suit, looking like a snack he’d just finished a GQ photoshoot he’d come straight from work. He seemed different from the young man I remembered, because this version of Alec had sharper features and crinkle lines around his eyes.
He must have noticed that I wasn’t making any attempts to get up, because he offered his hand. “I saw what happened. Then I thought maybe you were having a hypo. A thank-you would’ve been appreciated.”
My jaw unhinged, and I stared at him, unblinking. He remembered… about hypos?
Alec McGrumpyface had been an all but permanent fixture in our house when we were younger. He was Eric’s best friend, and the two of them used to always turn heads wherever they went—my friendly, charismatic brother with his dazzling smile; and dark-haired, green-eyed, smoldering Alec, who charmed his way into girls’ pants with his devastatingly attractive grin and an arrogant crook of his finger. He unleashed said charm and grin on everyone, excluding me. No matter how hard I tried to win him over, his life’s mission had been to annoy, irritate, and exasperate the hell out of me.
Then that fateful night ten years ago clinched the tone of our relationship, affirming that I should stay as far away from him as possible. I could probably have forgiven him had he only broken my heart, but I drew the line when he nearly caused me to cross to the other side, then disappeared without so much as an apology.
Living at opposite ends of the country had been an excellent start.
Until now.
Ignoring his outstretched hands, I pushed myself up, wincing when my wounded forearm protested. “I don’t know what Eric told you, but I’m fine. I don’t need your help.”
Alec snorted. “That’s not what your brother said. He asked me to keep an eye on you and gave me the address of this place. I believe his exact words were, ‘Ellie needs help, and you’re the only one I can trust.’”
If I somehow survived this ordeal, the first thing I’d do when I saw my brother again would be to kill him. Slowly and excruciatingly.
“Do you live here? In Port Benedict?”
“Been here for ten years.”
“And Eric knows about it? How often do you two talk?”
“Once a week, maybe.” He looked almost bored with my questions. “What, you think our friendship was over just because I moved to a different city?”
What were the odds?
Alec’s mother and mine used to be semi-friendly with each other, as they had a similar background—both came from Indonesia to the States as students, before becoming American citizens. But that was where the similarities ended. The two of them had lost touch, as my mother had married my father, a fellow Chinese Indonesian migrant, and then gone on to build a successful business empire, while Alec’s mother had married a Scottish American.
The two families had reconnected during an Indonesian com munity gathering, where Eric and Alec hit it off like a house on fire, much to the displeasure of my mother, who thought the Mackenzies were not affluent enough for the likes of our family. She’d never warmed up to Alec, even though he’d been thick as thieves with Eric when we were growing up. The only reason she tolerated Alec hanging around our house so much was because she wanted to save face, and not be seen as a heartless grouch who banned her son from making friends with those less wealthy. She had always treated his family with curt indifference, never going out of her way to be nice to them. Not even after Alec’s parents separated, leaving his single mother struggling to raise three children on her own.
“Why here, of all places?” Although I knew the answer. Fastest-growing city and all that.
Alec raised his eyebrows. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know I needed your permission to live here. Are we done with the interrogation? Because I have somewhere else to be,” he glanced at his watch, “in forty-five minutes.”
“You’re free to go. Tell Eric everything’s under control.”
But instead of leaving, he cast a disinterested look at the shop. “Is that yours? What do we have here?”
“Nothing,” I said, a little too quickly. I wasn’t going to admit to the most irritating man I’d ever met that I was desperate for help. “We have nothing. Thanks for coming, and I’m sorry you had to drag yourself away from whatever important things you were doing. Goodbye now.”
I picked up my bundle of sleeping bag, then started toward the shop, hoping that he wouldn’t follow. But because the universe seemed to be intent on giving me nothing but trouble today, of course he did follow.
“Is that a sleeping bag?” He fell into step beside me, his eyes laser-focused on the bundle in my hand. “Are you planning on sleeping in the store? Because I’m pretty sure living in a commercial space violates a law or two.”
That meant I definitely had to figure out a cheaper housing situation, fast. “No offense, Mackenzie, but it’s none of your business.”
“It is my business, because I’ve had to cancel a meeting to come here.” Alec gave me an annoyed once-over. “If it weren’t for Eric, I wouldn’t be wasting my time babysitting you.”
I came to an abrupt stop to face him and drew myself up to my full height. “Eric might have called you, but I didn’t. I never asked you to cancel any meetings, and I don’t need anyone to babysit me. This has been an enchanting conversation, but I’m sure you have somewhere else more important to be, and so do I. So, again, you’re free to go.”
He was standing a bit too close for comfort, assaulting my nose with a whiff of citrus and spice. His voice turned low, sending all kinds of shivers down my spine. “I would have already left if it hadn’t been for the sleeping bag, Ellie. Now show me the store.”
I wondered if the hospital-grade disinfectant I was planning to buy would be strong enough to also repel him from showing up unannounced. Knowing he wouldn’t budge until he got what he wanted, I stalked past him and pushed the front door open, then dumped the sleeping bag on the floor as he walked in. A cloud of dust from the debris flew up, making him cough.
Mwahahahaha. My inner supervillain twirled an imaginary mustache and cackled with unhinged mirth. Serves him right.
The cough stopped—unfortunately—replaced by him swearing under his breath when he saw the collapsed roof.
“It’s not as bad as it looks,” I said, even as my brain roared in laughter and called me all sorts of liars. “I’ve already made calls to a few local contractors.”
“Really? How did that go? Eric said the earliest someone can start is in nine weeks.”
Seriously, I was going to have some very stern words with my favorite sibling about the importance of not oversharing. Right before I strangled him with my bare hands.
“I can help.” Alec turned to me. “I don’t know if Eric mentioned—”
“He told me nothing. I didn’t even know you’re still alive.”
“—but I work in the property industry. I know people who can do the repairs.”
His phone buzzed, interrupting him, while my brain perked up with interest. He does?
That was how desperate I was: I was actually willing to consider an offer of help from the only man that I couldn’t stand. Without anyone holding a gun to my head.
I must be out of my fucking mind.
Maybe the enormous shock from seeing this place had fried the neurons in my brain, because the correct answer was, I’d rather burn in hell than ask him for help. There are eight billion other humans in the world, so there had to be another option.
But this handsome man is the most logical choice, my insubordinate brain argued. Do you know anyone else who’s a local and works in the property industry? Go ahead, name someone else better than him. I’ll wait.
I mentally scrolled through my phone contacts, trying to think of someone else who might be able to help, but came up with nothing.
Maybe I could do the repairs myself. That was what Siri and the internet were for, right? I’d save some money, and my budget could have some breathing space. I’d never replaced roof tiles or fixed leaky pipes before, but I’d cross that bridge when I came to it.
But that line of thought was instantly nixed when an errant piece of roofing decided to no longer fight gravity and crumbled on top of my head. I let out a yell and jumped to save my life.
See how bad things are? Insubordinate brain was triumphant. He’s obviously the best man for the job.
No, no, not so fast.
The man in question was frowning at and typing on his phone, so I quickly made a mental pros and cons list:
Pro:
Con:
1. He’s the only person I know in Port Benedict. And he works in the property industry, so he must have connections that could help turn this place into a functional, tasteful, state-of-the-art bakery (200 points).
1. We have history. Bad, unpleasant history. He shattered my heart into pieces, then nearly committed homicide, and he is the world’s most annoying man (minus 500 points).
2. He is probably the only person Eric would trust with his life, which was why my brother had called him for help. Ergo, I should be able to trust him with mine (501 points). Theoretically.
3. I’d rather deal with him than going back home to my parents (10,000 points).
It was crystal-clear. Asking my sworn enemy for help and sharing the same city with him wasn’t in my bingo card for the year—or ever—but I had no other choice. The more I thought about it, the more convinced I was. Living in the same city as Alec Mackenzie? No problem, because after almost three decades of parental oppression, I’d take that as a win any day.
“I accept.”
Alec looked up from his phone. “Accept what?”
Was he making me beg? I swallowed my pride and ignored the way his deep, smooth voice sent waves rippling through my stomach, and employed my most professional, businesslike tone. “I accept your offer of help.” Then I forced a polite smile on my face. “Thank you.”
“Okay.” He shrugged. “I’ll make some phone calls and let you know.”
“How long do you think it’ll take to get everything fixed?”
Alec pocketed his phone and stood next to me. “A few weeks, depending on how busy the tradesmen are. But from the looks of things, you won’t need any other major repairs.” He gestured to the massive hole in the ceiling, his arm brushing mine. It sent a tiny electric zing jolting through me, traveling from my fingertips to my toes. “Apart from the collapsed roof, the structural foundation is solid. There’s no rotting, no cracks anywhere, no significant damage to the beams and the walls. All you need to do is replace the roof tiles, the floor tiles, and fix the plumbing. Then a thorough clean and a fresh coat of paint, and it’ll be good as new.” At my doubtful look, he added, “Trust me. I’ve been doing this for a long time. It might look bad now, but you’re pretty lucky to have snagged this gem, because the location is golden.”
He might be right, but my entire existence had been reduced to this sorry excuse of a shop, an old car, and the suitcases and boxes inside said car. Asking me to be positive right now was akin to buying a one-way ticket to Byron Bay and hoping to score a date with one of the Hemsworths.
“By the way, who was the Realtor that handled the lease?”
“A guy called Phil Anderson,” I said. “From Anderson Real Estate.”
“I know of him,” Alec said, nodding. “Solid reputation. He’s a business associate of my soon-to-be business partner.”
“Soon-to-be?”
A proud grin lit up his face. “Yeah. Goodwin Property Group. One of the biggest commercial property developers in the country. They own multiple developments and shopping complexes, including this one. They approached us last month and expressed an interest to acquire almost half of my company.”
“Impressive.” I popped my eyes open and gave him a mock innocent look. “Did you have to pay someone to make that happen?”
“Funny, very funny. Anyway, it’s been real, but I must run. Congratulations, good luck with everything, et cetera. I’ll be in touch.”
“I think ‘congratulations’ isn’t the right word.” I marched toward the door and opened it for him. The sooner he left the place, the better. “Thanks for stopping by.”
But instead of walking out like he was supposed to, he didn’t move, his eyes narrowing at the sight of my sleeping bag. “You’re not really going to camp here, are you?”
I wasn’t, but he didn’t need to know that. “Really? You’re still hung up on that?”
“Yep. Because it’s a certified health hazard.”
I crossed my arms in front of my chest. “What if I don’t have a choice? I’ll need a lot of money to fix up this place, so I can’t afford to rent a flat, or a hotel room, or an Airbnb. What am I supposed to do, Alec?”
He grew quiet, the silence stretching long and painful between us. “I’ll probably regret this tomorrow,” he mumbled to himself, and took a deep breath, as if mentally preparing for his next sentence. “My place is only ten minutes away, and you can have the spare room until you get back on your feet. I’m rarely home, so you won’t see much of me around.”
My stomach turned. Staying in the same house with my sworn enemy? That held as much appeal as crawling back home to my family. “No thanks. I’ll be fine.”
“I wouldn’t have offered if I didn’t mean it. You don’t have to pay rent. If the situation was reversed, Eric would’ve done the same thing for my sisters in a heartbeat.” He looked pained, as if saying the words was making him die a slow and agonizing death. “We’re adults, and I know you don’t like me, but I’m sure we can be civil for a short time.”
“ We don’t like each other,” I pointed out.
“Same difference.”
The offer was very tempting, because it might be a while before I could afford my own place, and I wasn’t going to risk breaking the law and getting fined for sleeping in the store. And really, if I wanted to be honest, the prospect of setting up camp in a place with no toilet, no shower, with squirrels and maybe even rats to keep me company, wasn’t at all appealing. He might be a much slightly better alternative than the rodents, but sharing the same house with him might spark the next Civil War.
Time for another quick list:
Pro:
Con:
1. A proper bed to sleep in, and a decent toilet and shower (100 points).
1. I’d have to live under the same roof with him (minus 200 points).
2. I could kiss the squirrels, the rats, and whatever animals currently making plans to nest in the fallen tree limb goodbye (no, eww, not literally, of course) (200 points).
An uncomfortable twinge of guilt tugged at my heart, admonishing me for being so ungrateful. Be nicer, Ellie. After all, he was being generous, helping me with the repairs and offering me a place to stay. Sworn enemies or not, the least I could do was be civil and respectful to him. And really, let’s face it: I was desperate. What other choices did I have?
“Thank you. I’ll take it,” I said, forcing myself to sound polite. “But I’m paying you rent, even if it’s not much. I don’t want to be indebted to you for the rest of my life.”
“Whatever. Good thing I showed up, huh?”
“Absolutely. You should make a full-time job out of it. ‘Knight in shining armor for hire’ has a nice ring to it, don’t you think?”
He gave me a dirty look, before pulling out his phone. “What’s your number?”
“I don’t give out my numbers on the first date. You need to buy me dinner first.”
He blew out an exasperated sigh, looking as if his patience was on its last legs. “Your number, Ellie. I’m texting you my address and the security code to disarm the front door.”
“Why didn’t you say so?” I gave him an innocent look as I took his phone and typed in my number. “Should have opened with that.”
Alec scoffed as he took the phone back. “Why else would I be asking?”
“Actually,” I said, as my phone pinged with his text, “I might need another favor.”
“For someone who doesn’t like me, you seem to be needing my help a lot.” This time, he did walk out the door. “Keep it up and I might start charging you.”
“Can you not say anything about this to anyone back home?” I ignored his jibe and followed him to his car. “That I’ll be living at your place?”
“Why? Are you on the run from your family? Eric knows you’re here.”
“Yeah, but he doesn’t need to know where I’ll be staying. I don’t want him and Naomi to, uh, get any ideas.”
Alec stopped next to his car and raised his eyebrows at me. “What kind of ideas?”
“Just… the wrong kind of ideas.” I made a vague gesture with my hands. I trusted Eric and Naomi, and I knew they would never say anything to my parents, but the fewer people from home that knew I’d be living with him, the better. “If Eric asks, tell him that you don’t know where I live.”
He let out a mock exaggerated sigh. “Asking me to lie will cost you extra. And you forgot to say please.”
“ Please? My family doesn’t need to know about our living arrangements.”
Something flickered in his eyes. “Fine. I won’t tell anyone. Not that your parents would ever get in touch with me, anyway. Your mother hates my guts, too. Seems all the women in your family are immune to my charm.”
I smiled a little. “At least there’s one thing she and I agree on.”
As he drove away, I blew out a breath, while crossing my toes and fingers, hoping I hadn’t just made the second biggest mistake of my life in less than a month.
Because—zings or not—I was about to share a house with the devil incarnate himself.