Chapter 6. A Deal with the Grumpy Devil
CHAPTER 6
A Deal with the Grumpy Devil
Fifteen minutes later, I repeatedly kicked the tires of my formerly dependable CR-V, venting out my frustration. My sweet old car had decided to die on me. I didn’t have time to service the car before I left home, and this was my payback.
Walking it was, then. Google Maps estimated it should take no longer than fifty minutes to Port Benedict Plaza, plus another ten for a quick stop at a nearby Home Depot.
Two hours later, I was huffing and puffing as I unlocked the door to the shop and flicked on the lights, thankful the electricity was at least working. I dumped the box of cleaning supplies and tools on the floor, then took several minutes to catch my breath, before straightening up and glancing around the place. And despite the dreadful, dystopia-lookalike scene in front of me, a spark of hope bloomed inside my chest. I still had a long road ahead, but this—no matter how atrocious things might seem right now—was still one step closer toward my dream.
I rolled up my sleeves and donned my new protective gear. My goal was to chop up and remove the fallen tree by the end of the day, cover the hole in the roof and clear the rest of the debris by tomorrow, and figure out how to fix the leaky pipes on the third day. It might be a tad ambitious, but I was confident I could finish everything before the contractor came in.
Taking out my brand-new chainsaw from its box, I sat on the floor and read the user manual from cover to cover, then looked up a YouTube video on how to safely operate one. The woman on the instruction video sounded positive and encouraging, so my confidence was at an all-time high. With my phone propped up and the YouTube tutorial playing, I picked up the chainsaw and turned it on.
It took me a few—okay, a lot of—tries before I could finally get the hang of it. But still, it wasn’t as easy as I thought it was, and by the time I stopped for a lunch break, I’d only managed to cut up a very small section. Either the tree was larger than I’d expected, or my power-tooling skills just weren’t up to scratch. At the rate this was going, I’d be lucky if I could remove the tree by the end of the month.
As I slumped into a defeated heap on the floor, I blew out a long breath, wondering if my mother was right, that I couldn’t survive unless my family supported me. Maybe she knew me better than I knew myself, because she had never trusted me with bigger responsibilities. Because she’d already foreseen what was going to happen: that I’d probably fail and come crawling back home, with my tail tucked between my legs.
After all, mothers always know best, right?
Enough with the sarcasm, Ellie. Lowest form of wit, remember?
As if on cue, my phone vibrated with an incoming text. My mother was still sending me messages and emails, demanding to know where I was, and livid that I’d been ignoring her. This latest one was short but not sweet, with a not-so-subtle threat saying that if she didn’t hear from me by the end of the week, I’d be hearing from her lawyers.
I had to read the message three times before finally registering her words. Was she threatening to sue me ? On what grounds? What was she expecting to achieve by doing that? Did she really not know when to back off?
Anger—and a healthy dose of fear—gnawed at my brain. I couldn’t afford to wait four weeks for Alec’s contractor, because who knew what other kinds of nasty, horrible damage she might be able to pull off in that time?
Fueled by new resolve, I deleted the message, then went back to my chainsaw and the tree. I yanked the starter several times, but no matter how hard I tried, it still refused to start.
It was a brand-new chainsaw. Why wasn’t it working?
Groaning with exasperation, I Googled the symptoms, and found that it was most likely flooded. The solution, according to an arborist chat forum, was to “remove the air cleaner, the spark plug, the bar and chain,” and that was when I stopped reading, because they could be speaking in an alien language for all I knew.
With my frustration bubbling over, I reached for my phone and called Naomi. She picked up on the second ring, her familiar voice instantly cheering me up.
“Ellie! How are things going out there?”
“Could be better, but I shouldn’t complain.” I told her about the store and felt myself begin to relax. “How have you been? How’s my favorite brother doing?”
“We’re good. I’ve been busy with work, and Eric has been running around getting the new brewery ready for opening.”
“Tell him not to work too hard. Even the Golden Child needs a break sometimes.”
Naomi snickered. “I’ll tell him that. You know how much he hates that nickname.”
“Make sure you do. Hey, um, have you heard from George?”
“Saw him last week,” she said. “He’s fine, if that’s what you’re wondering about. You did the right thing, and it’s better for both of you in the long run.”
This was why Naomi and I had been best friends for so long. We always supported each other, no matter what. She was with me when I was diagnosed, when I went through my first heartbreak, and I had consoled her when she broke up with her first girlfriend. She had always stood behind every decision I made, good or bad, not even flinching when I told her I was moving to Port Benedict, because she knew how long I’d been wanting to chase my dream.
“Eric said Alec’s helping you with the repairs. How’s that going?”
“It’s going fine, although I’m not happy about it. We’re tolerating each other. Barely.”
She only chuckled. “Well, make sure you stay away from him then, because I don’t want my best friend killing my boyfriend’s best friend. And if you are going to murder him, I’ll need twelve hours’ notice to fly over and help you get rid of the body.” Her voice softened. “How does it feel to see him again, though? Are you doing okay?”
Because of course Naomi knew about my crush on him. She knew how devastated I was when he had left without even saying goodbye.
“I’m fine. It was an old childhood crush. Don’t worry, I’ve grown out of it.”
We spoke for a few more minutes, and she told me about the short getaway Eric had planned for them the next weekend. When I hung up, my mood was considerably lifted, giving me a fresh dose of confidence.
Come on, get your act together, Ellie.
I’d gone this far from my old life, and I wasn’t going back. The only way out of this mess was to push forward and get this place up and running.
Because the alternative wasn’t even worth thinking about.
My top was drenched in sweat as I turned onto Alec’s leafy street, just as his car swung into the driveway. Slamming the door closed, he rushed toward the front door, stopping short when he saw me walking up.
“Holy shit.” His eyebrows went up as he eyed me from head to toe. “Did you stop for a swim at the pool or something?”
“Sure, after my daily one-hour jog by the beach.” I gave him an exaggerated eye roll. “I walked back from the shop. Why are you in such a hurry?”
“Who says I’m in a hurry?” He frowned, his eyes darting to the curb to my CR-V. “What’s wrong with your car?”
“It decided to take a well-deserved holiday.”
“Good thing you got into town before it conked out. Probably just the battery. I can jump-start it tomorrow morning before work.” He considered me for a second, then said, “Call me next time, and I can give you a ride. Saves you from having to walk back.”
I was about to thank him for the offer, but then I remembered his rudeness this morning, and that the temporary truce had been indefinitely suspended. “I appreciate the offer.”
“I can smell a ‘but’ coming.”
“But I prefer walking barefoot across flaming hot coals, surrounded by flesh-eating piranhas, to riding in a car alone with you.”
He ignored my dig. “The offer still stands. I thought exercise and temperature can affect your blood sugar levels. They can make you low, right? I remember that night. All that walking, and that’s when you… you know.” His face turned the slightest shade of pink, and he actually had the grace to look uncomfortable. “And the alcohol you had didn’t help. You had, what, two Bud Lights? And a margarita?”
My jaw dropped and practically crashed on the gravel driveway.
Because he didn’t say “beers” and “cocktails.”
He said, very specifically, “two Bud Lights and a margarita.”
How did he still remember the exact drinks I had?
Somewhere deep in the bowels of my brain, a group of mini-sized counselors and psychologists hastily convened to hold an emergency meeting, dissecting and analyzing the shocking revelation that Alec remembered what happened ten years ago in great detail!
It might seem like a trivial detail to obsess over, but it was hugely significant to me. I’d always been under the impression that he never cared about what happened that night. But now… the fact that he still remembered the simplest, tiniest little details…
I filed away that interesting piece of information so I could overanalyze it later. Shrugging, I tried to appear nonchalant. “Chalk it up to teenage rebellion. After years of being told to watch what I ate, being able to taste a drop of alcohol was pretty damn liberating.”
Our eyes met, knowing that it was more than just teenage rebellion. It had also been heartbreak, anger, spite, and foolishness.
All of it mine.
“It wasn’t just ‘a drop.’ Otherwise you wouldn’t have ended up in the ER.”
For several beats, his eyes held mine, and my brain failed to instruct my eyes to look away. Right now, the fact that I couldn’t stand him had faded into the background, replaced by a shared memory that he’d once witnessed one of the most terrifying moments of my life.
A series of angry car horns blared in the distance, and he blinked twice. The next second, whatever moment we’d just shared vanished along with the fading car horns.
“I have to run.” He cast a furtive look at the street and unlocked the front door.
I narrowed one eye at him, before following him inside. “What’s going on? You’re looking very suspicious.”
He let out an indignant huff. “Nothing, and no, I don’t.”
“You sure? Because you look like you’re hiding something. Are you in some kind of trouble that I should know about? Follow-up question, are you running away from the authorities?”
“No. I just need to change before my next meeting.” He gestured at his attire from this morning. “Stop asking so many questions. Don’t you have better things to do? Weren’t you supposed to be busy at your store? Chopping off trees for firewood or something?”
“Yep. Day one of my To-Do List successfully completed,” I lied through my teeth. “Tree’s almost gone.”
“And all your limbs are still intact? Congratulations.”
“What meeting is it? Since you’re my landlord for the next few weeks, I need to know if you’re planning a criminal activity.”
“You caught me. I’m plotting my next move to topple the free world.” He placed his keys and phone on the kitchen counter. “Want to join the cause? I could always use another henchman.”
“Again, I appreciate the offer. But honestly, I’d rather be sucked into a supermassive black hole instead.”
“First piranhas, now black holes.” He shrugged his suit jacket off. “I’m starting to think you don’t like me.”
“Well done, you finally figured it out. Is it a cult?”
A corner of his mouth lifted at the tiniest, most miniscule angle. “I asked you to stop with the questions. Terrible at following instructions, are we?”
“Not a criminal, not a cult. Secret girlfriend, then?”
“Wow. The things that go through your mind.” Disappearing into the laundry room, he came back wearing a dark pair of jeans and a fresh light-blue shirt. “Must be fascinating to live inside your brain.”
“It’s the happiest place on Earth. You know I won’t stop until you tell me what it is.”
“Fine.” He released a long-suffering sigh and cast a cautious look at the front windows, as if someone were standing outside with a recording device, ready to catch him saying something illegal. “I’m meeting a woman named Audrey.”
“Oooh, a secret girlfriend,” I sing-songed. “I was right.”
“Not my girlfriend. I’m paying her to be one.”
My eyes widened. “You’re hiring an escort?”
“I said a girlfriend, not an—” He stopped, his lips pursed into a thin line. “Why am I explaining myself to you? Forget I even said anything. It’s none of your business.”
“Seriously? You can’t just drop a juicy bombshell about hiring a girlfriend and expect me not to question you about it.”
Alec smirked. “Watch me.”
“But why? Are you really that desperate for some human touch?”
He choked a laugh as he pocketed his keys. “I’m not desperate.”
“If you’re hiring a girlfriend, you are. I can even smell the stench of desperation,” I said. “Here’s an idea. You’ve had girlfriends in the past, right? Why don’t you just get back together with one of your exes? Send them flowers. Grovel and beg until they take you back. Wouldn’t that be easier than paying an esco— I mean, hiring someone to be your partner?”
Alec stared at me, looking like he wanted to strangle me and feed me to the wolves.
“You can be a bit annoying, sure. But maybe one of those exes is gullible enough to be willing to sacrifice their prime years and spend their precious free time with you?”
“You don’t know when to stop, do you?” He arched his eyebrows. “Still as stubborn as ever. Some things never change.”
“Not stubborn. I persevere. There’s a difference.”
“Fine, if you really must know, I have an important work event this weekend, and long story short, it’ll look bad if I came alone. Audrey is a freelance actor for hire, so I’m meeting her to go over our cover story, how we first met, all the backstories.”
A few minutes passed as I gaped at him, trying to process his answer. “That,” I finally said, struggling to contain my laugh, “is the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard in my life.”
“I didn’t ask for your opinion.” Alec lifted his shoulders, not looking the least bit concerned that I’d just insulted him. “She costs a fortune, but this function is important, so I’ll pay her whatever she wants. Now, if you’re finished judging me, I have to go.”
“Wait.” A lightbulb flickered in my head, as my mother’s latest threatening text came back to taunt me. “How important is the event?”
He pocketed his phone. “Very. Everything hinges on this.”
I put two and two together. “Is this related to that acquisition you were telling me about? Goodwin Property Group?”
“Maybe.”
“Come on, Mackenzie. Stop being so secretive. How is hiring a pretend girlfriend going to make or break the future of your business?”
He hesitated for a few seconds, before answering, “The woman who owns Goodwin Property Group is interested in both my company and me.”
“Saucy.” I whistled. “She’s got terrible taste, though.”
He ignored my comment. “She’s a wonderful person, and she’s been upfront about the whole thing, which I appreciate. But I didn’t want to jeopardize the deal by repeatedly rejecting her dinner invites. I felt really bad, so on the spur of the moment, I lied and told her I already have a girlfriend.”
“Did they teach that in business school? Start your business partnership with a lie?”
“That’s why all I need to do now is find a convincing girlfriend for the next few weeks. Once the acquisition is completed, we’ll stage a respectable breakup. I’ll get my deal, and Audrey will have enough money for her next holiday or a deposit on her first home.”
The bulb grew brighter. It was an outrageous idea, but it might be my best bet to get things up and running as quickly as possible, before my mother had a chance to follow through on her ridiculous threat. She would stop at nothing to make sure I failed, and I wouldn’t put it past her to do something vile, like suing me or reporting me to the authorities with false accusations. I ran a quick pros and cons list, but it was really a no-brainer, because this was a win-win situation.
“You don’t need Audrey,” I said slowly.
Alec raised an eyebrow. “I don’t?”
“You don’t. I can help you.”
“ You? Want to help me? Why?”
“Because we’re old friends, and that’s what friends do.”
“ Friends? ” He snorted loudly. “We’re not friends. You don’t even like me.”
“Well, we’ve known each other for a long time. Maybe longer than I would have liked.” I forced out a smile. “The point is, I’m offering my help. I’ll even do it for free.”
“For free,” he repeated, his expression incredulous.
“With one condition.”
“Obviously you don’t know the meaning of the word ‘free,’ but I’m willing to let that slide.” He folded his arms, leaning against the kitchen countertop. “Let’s hear it.”
My words came tumbling out before I could stop myself. “I can be your pretend girlfriend for the next few weeks, or however long you need me to be, if you help me with the repairs at the shop.”
His forehead creased. “I thought you said you had it under control.”
“I don’t. I’m way in over my head. The tree is still there, because I spent the entire day cutting off a tiny section before flooding the chainsaw. You know the contractor that could start in four weeks? If you can get him or someone else to start tomorrow, I’ll be your Audrey.”
Alec stared at me. “Let me get this straight. You want me to help you, in exchange for you being my girlfriend. Have I got that right?”
“ Pretend girlfriend,” I emphasized. “One word can make a huge difference.”
“Why? If I remember correctly, someone told me a few minutes ago that it was the most ridiculous thing they’d ever heard in their life.”
“I changed my mind.”
“But there’s no way I can pretend to be madly in love with you.” He repressed a shudder.
“Think about it. You’re a savvy businessman. You’ll save some money, and since we’re old friends—”
“Do I have to keep reminding you that you don’t like me? You’ve been nothing but unfriendly from the moment I saw you yesterday.”
I pretended not to hear him. “—we won’t need to make up any backstories, or cover stories, or any other fibs. Less risk of accidentally saying the wrong thing and having her discover your elaborate lie.”
He studied me, the cogs clearly spinning inside his brain. “You do have a point.”
“You know I do. It’s the offer of a lifetime, Alec.”
“I wouldn’t go that far.”
“Still, it’s too good to pass up,” I said, using my sweetest, most coaxing tone. “Didn’t you say Audrey costs a lot?”
“She does. I could utilize the funds better elsewhere, especially with the expansion we’re planning after the Goodwin investment.” He rubbed his chin, looking thoughtful. “And all I have to do is find someone to help you with your shop repairs?”
“Find me someone who could start tomorrow . I don’t care if you do it yourself, or someone else, just as long as they’re reliable, affordable, and they can get the job done ASAP.”
After a long pause, he nodded. “Okay.” He offered his hand, and my stomach fluttered as his palms gripped mine. “But we’ll need to sit down, work out a detailed plan, then go over it repeatedly until you can recite it in your sleep.”
I grinned at him. “Consider it done. Trust me, we’re going to do great.”
“We better.” He pulled out his phone and scrolled through his contacts. “Looks like I have to tell my pretend girlfriend we’re no longer dating.”