Chapter 44
Iturn the key as silently as possible, but it doesn’t matter. Wren’s already awake when I crack the door open. “How was exploring?”
Now that I know she’s up, I race to the window. “Good.”
Wren’s head pops onto my shoulder. “Good. What are we looking at?”
“Tall muscular women.”
“Okay, I didn’t know you were—”
I give her a sister’s smack. “I think I was being followed.”
“By a taller, muscular woman.”
“No, women. Multiple.”
“Like a gang?”
“No, they had earpieces. Like in the movies, like security guards do at concerts.”
“And why would they be going after you?”
“I didn’t say they were after me. I don’t know, Wren. I’m—”
“Sleep-deprived, and if I know you, you’ve been working too hard and not eating. Or maybe it has something to do with one of your hot bosses? I don’t know?”
“You’re right. Are you ready to get going? See what there is to see?” I put my bag on the dresser.
“You bought something? That’s a miracle.”
“Nothing really, just a toy.” I pull out the mushrooms. I’m a little embarrassed to show them. Every dollar or euro counts. But they do bring me joy and will be a good reminder of the time I’ve had here.
“Oh, they’re cute. That’s a fun souvenir to remind you of that painting, the one above your desk.” She takes one in each hand.
“That’s what I thought.”
Wren sinks onto the velvet sofa. “There’s no reason your hot bosses would want to keep an eye on you, Raine? Is there?”
“No, why would they?” I say with a laugh and swallow down the impulse to snatch the mushrooms out of her hand.
“I don’t know. That’s why I’m asking you.”
“Nope, no reason. Let’s get going.”
We saunter down the quaint streets, wandering in and out of all kinds of tiny specialty shops. I slow in front of a chocolatier, reading the sign. “There’s a tour that starts in ten minutes.”
“Let’s do it!” Wren links arms with me, and we step into the shop.
Heaven—this is definitely what heaven smells like.
There’s a group of people standing at the back of the shop and a few clerks in the front. “Look around,” says Wren. “I’ll get our tickets.”
“I have a job now, I can—”
“You wouldn’t take any money from me for school. You can at least let me pick up the chocolate tour that I know there would be zero chance of you taking without me here.”
“Okay, okay. Thank you.” I smile at her while she buys our tickets. I peruse the shop case while Wren pays.
“We have perfect timing. This is their deluxe tour. Instead of just showing us how they make things in the back room, they take us via van to their cottage factory on the outskirts of town. They only do this tour once a month, and I got the last two spots.” Wren hands me a golden ticket.
“Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory?” She laughs.
“This is fun. Seeing you, going on adventures. It’s like we always talked about as kids. ”
“Yeah, well, you’ve got the adventure part taken care of.”
Wren wraps her arm around my shoulder. “You’re on a pretty neat adventure yourself right now.”
“I suppose that’s true.”
My phone dings again with another message from the flight attendant girls.
“Is that the pad chat?”
“Yup,” I say sheepishly.
“Ignore it. They are smart, capable women. You can’t keep coming to their rescue, or they’ll never stop pestering you.
Why do you think they don’t ask me those sorts of questions?
Because I stopped helping them. You don’t help drunk people, and you don’t tolerate intentional incompetence.
They can figure out where the toilet paper is themselves.
” Wren takes out her phone and turns it off.
“They’ll come for me with direct texts next.
Because they know I muted the group chat months ago. Which is something you should do too.”
“They’re not incompetent. Most of them are just barely ever there.”
“They have eyes Raine, let them use them.”
“Fine.”
“I see you reaching for your phone. Don’t answer Ellen about where the remote is. You haven’t been there in weeks.”
“But when Amy sleeps on the sofa, it always ends up under the cushion by the window.”
“Then let Ellen find it. It’ll be her own personal Easter egg hunt. Remember how much you used to love those as a kid?”
“I did. I probably still do.” I laugh.
“Right, give me your phone.”
“Fine, I can not answer it.” I slide my phone into my pocket.
“Not good enough. Turn it off. You have to do what I say—it’s my birthday.” She cocks her head to the side. I’m the one who made the darn rule so long ago. I have to follow it now. “Your phone is for your convenience, not others,” Wren says.
I sigh, but I take it out and turn it off before sliding it back into my pocket.
We pile into the tour group’s van with eight others. It winds through the village to the outskirts of town and pulls up outside a white-washed cottage. Out front, there are rose bushes and several tables.
A woman wearing a white skirt-like apron smiles as she welcomes us out of the van.
“Come in, come in.” When we’ve all filed into the space with huge mixers and vats of sugar, she shuts the door.
“This used to be my grandparents’ cottage, but as their chocolates gained popularity, it took up more and more space until my grandfather was sleeping in the goat shed out back . . .”
Thirty minutes later, I know I like spicy chocolate—something I would never have tried on my own—and I’ve eaten my weight in chocolate. I place my hand on my stomach.
Wren elbows me. “I’m not sure my confectionary baby belly is going to fit in my uniform.”
“Mine either.” I laugh. “I’m going to have to borrow some leggings from you for tonight.”
Wren cocks her head at me.
“What? I’ll return them.” Apparently, she hasn’t gotten over the great clothing lending embargo of high school.
She smiles and pulls me in close.
“Thank you for the tour. It was amazing,” I say as the owner hands me a light blue bag with a dragon emblazoned in gold on it. I hold it up. It looks like Kieren.
“Do you like the dragons?” the owner says. “Have you seen them? They like to fly at night.”
“Ah, no.” I’m not sure why I lie to her. The NDA didn’t even cross my mind.
“Well, look for them flying down from the mountain at night. Though, they don’t eat people anymore. Not like my grandmother said they used to.”
“Oh.” I nod and smile and head outside to wait for Wren.
They’ve told us to wait on a small back terrace for the bus to come back. Wren’s become friendly with a couple from Ohio during the tour. Did Roark and Kieren ever eat a villager? I can’t imagine happy-go-lucky Evander causing harm. The sound of Kieren’s dragon’s screech echoes in my head.
There’s another cottage next door, a full line of them. The distance from the town shop to the cottage wasn’t that long.
“Hey,” Wren says, finding me staring out at the mountain.
“Hey yourself.”
“You doing okay?”
“Sure. Yes . . . You want to walk back instead of taking the van?”
“Yeah, that sounds like a great adventure. I’ll tell the shop owner.
” Wren ducks back inside, and soon enough we’re walking down the back path next to the river.
There’s a smattering of businesses mixed in every once and a while, and a few small fishing boats zip downstream.
Wren and I walk for a while in silence. It’s remarkable, all the small yards that back up against the trail.
“Mom would love these gardens,” I say.
“She would,” Wren says, and she grabs my hand, squeezing it. She doesn’t like that I’m not getting along with our parents. It puts her in an awkward situation. She did what they wanted, after all.
“That’s the first nice-normal thing I’ve said about her since they sat me down and told me they weren’t going to pay for the rest of school.”
“Well, you have every right to be mad.”
“I’ve had a while to think about it. I went in freshmen year knowing that there were only certain degrees they were willing to pay for. And I decided to see if I could get around their rules. Slowly at first, but it wasn’t smart.”
“I did like the PowerPoint you put together to convince them to let you stay an art history major.”
I smile. “It was a last grasp at trying to get what I wanted. But now . . . now when I finish my degree on my own terms? It’s going to be fantastic.”
Wren glances away. “Well, this job is an amazing opportunity.” She’s one of the smartest people I know.
There’s no way on earth she doesn’t suspect something is up.
I know it’s her birthday week, but I’m sure it’s the reason why she wanted to come for a visit so soon.
And I know I said I would explain later .
. . but this isn’t the later I was thinking about.
We meander away from the river, walking in the least direct route back to the inn.
“Those are some really nice flowers.” I take my phone out of my pocket, but it’s off.
“Leave it off. I’m having a much better time than us being bothered with airline texts, needy flight attendants, and even needier exes in your case. Is Jeff leaving you alone?”
“Yeah, he stopped soon after Roark texted him that picture. And I blocked him.”
“Are you going to explain that picture to me?”
“I’d rather not.” I put my phone away and ignore Wren’s arched eyebrow. We zigzag through another few blocks in silence.
There’s a shout from down the block, then another, but this time it’s a group of people groaning together.
“That’s okay. I’m better than you. My Eisstocks will get closer to the daube. Don’t you worry, love.” They’re gathered around a lawn game, pints of beer in hand.
“Heidi Baumann, that’s the biggest load of codswallop you’ve ever told me,” a woman with an English accent laughs out.
We stop at the gate.
Another woman holds a beer stein the size of my face. “Well, that might be true,” Heidi says.
“Hey, there, come learn our game,” the first woman calls to us.
Wren is through the back gate before I can stop her.