Chapter NineteenFischerOctober 21
Chapter Nineteen
Fischer
Grant is in a mood . A bad one. And while he’s generally in a bad mood, this is worse. This is ‘shout at me when I don’t bring in coffee’ and ‘kick the computer when it takes too long to boot up’ bad. And when I mentioned going over to Ember to verify the plans from the weekend?
Let’s just say I’m lucky I have decently quick reflexes. And I refuse to buy Grant a new plant for his desk. If he wants one, he shouldn’t have massacred the one he had by throwing it at me.
So, instead of sharing smiles and little touches with Micah in her cubicle, I spend my day holed up at my desk, wincing every time Grant finds something new to blame me for.
After enduring a rage-filled rant about how I’m thoroughly incapable of following directions when the burger I ordered him for lunch came with pickles when it wasn’t supposed to, I sneak out of the office for a brief respite from it all and look up the number for the driving service Micah hired last week.
Though it takes several different conversations and multiple explanations on my part, as well as promises that I’m not trying to do anything illegal or weird, I finally get Kenny’s number and give him a call.
“Hello?”
“Kenny, hey. It’s Fischer from Bradley Properties.”
“Oh hey. What’s up?”
I’m not even sure how to ask this question, but I can’t endure any more of Grant’s obnoxious behavior without figuring out the cause. “Did anything happen on the drive back from the lodge?”
“No, sir. I got both Ms. Tate and Mr. Bradley back to the—”
“I mean did anything happen between them?”
“Oh.” He’s quiet for a long time, which doesn’t bode well. “Well, they started off pretty quiet, then Mr. Bradley said something I couldn’t hear. It turned into a pretty impressive argument, though I try not to listen to what happens in my backseat.”
I groan. “You didn’t catch anything?”
“Just something about St. Bart’s.”
St. Bart’s? But Grant hasn’t been there since he graduated college, and he refuses to talk about it because he spent the whole trip with a woman who ghosted him as soon as he boarded his flight to go home.
It pretty much ruined him when it comes to trust in relationships, and yet I’ve always suspected there is some remnant of regret.
I think if he ever encountered her again, it would end with all sorts of…
I swear loudly, then quickly apologize to Kenny. “Thanks for your insight,” I tell him and hang up, pacing the empty hallway outside the office.
I could easily be wrong, but something tells me Lila is the woman from St. Bart’s, and now I realize the reason Grant seemed so interested in Ember when I presented it as an option. He was hoping for a reconnection. He certainly got it, though it clearly didn’t end in his favor.
I should really get back to work before I make Grant even angrier, but I need a distraction.
I need Micah.
Though I forced myself to ignore my phone all day yesterday and take a breather, I’ve been missing her like crazy since the moment I drove away from her sister’s. I guess absence really does make the heart grow fonder, though I’d been hoping for the opposite.
She didn’t text me either. I don’t really want to read into that.
She was probably busy with work, or maybe something to do with her siblings.
I’m trying to be a better human and see the world the way she does, but rose-colored glasses are not my usual MO.
I pull up our text thread and look at her name, both first and last because that’s what I always do with my contacts.
But it feels so formal, so I edit her info so it’s just Micah , and then I send her a quick text.
Me: Did you settle in back home after that crazy weekend?
It’s a lame question, and I know it, but I don’t know how to navigate the silence between us.
Thankfully, she texts back quickly.
Micah: I slept most of yesterday! My bed and I were good friends!
Don’t ask it, Fischer.
Me: No running into new date prospects then?
I slap a palm into my face. I really just asked that.
Micah: Actually…
My heart sinks, though I really have no reason to stop her from going on dates. I have no right to be jealous. I don’t even deserve to know about her love life because I’m not willing to be a part of it. And yet…
Me: Actually what? Don’t tell me you had guys climbing in your windows to ask you out.
Micah: No, that’s Brooklyn. And that happened last weekend, not this one!
I freeze, trying to figure out where the indication of sarcasm is within her text. But I almost think she’s serious.
Me: You’re kidding, right?
Micah: No! That actually happened, and it’s soooo romantic!
It’s creepy and illegal, that’s what it is.
But Micah sees love and potential everywhere, and that’s not something that is going to change.
It is for this reason that I will not tell her about Grant and Lila’s likely history because she’ll try to turn it into some second chance romance and cause all sorts of unnecessary drama.
Micah: The pizza guy asked me out, though!
“You’re going to get yourself murdered someday,” I say, shaking my head. How does her brother not die of worry over this woman and her tendency to interact with strange men? If I were him, I wouldn’t let her out of my sight.
Me: Did you say yes?
Micah: Yeah. He was cute! And really sweet when he asked me!
He was cute. Does she think I’m cute? She does—cute like a skunk . What does that mean? I like to think I’m easy on the eyes, and experience has generally confirmed that. But how do I measure up against all of Micah’s prospects? Do I even rank amongst the other woodland creatures?
I am definitely losing my mind if I’m suddenly jealous of a squirrel.
Me: When is the date?
Micah: Tonight! Assuming Lila lets me leave on time. She is freaking out today and trying to convince the whole planning team to stay late.
I glance at the office door, wondering if Lila is on edge because of the whole thing with Grant. Would it be better for them to never speak again or to make up? My best option is probably to avoid interference entirely.
Me: What time is your date? Maybe I can do something to make sure you get away.
What I could possibly do, I don’t know, and I hate that I’m even offering. If I weren’t trying to be a better person, I would let her stand the guy up and probably sabotage any future dates with bike messengers and doctors so her only choice is to come running to me.
I shudder. Being a better person is clearly going to take a lot of work.
Micah: It’s at 7 at La Bella! I think I can get out of here okay but I’ll let you know if that changes!
Oh, I wish she hadn’t told me. I’m glad she trusts me, but now I’m going to be sitting in my dark bedroom at seven tonight, desperately trying to distract myself so I don’t think about a greasy-haired pizza guy putting the moves on Micah.
Well, she said he’s cute, so he probably doesn’t have greasy hair.
But now I’m picturing him looking like Justin Timberlake or something, which isn’t helping.
I type out one more text that I don’t mean before forcing myself to go back into the office.
Me: I hope your date goes well.
***
Our meeting with the company that powers the lodge goes long into the afternoon, but I absolutely don’t want Grant to be in charge of ensuring we don’t have any more power outages as we move closer to winter.
Surprisingly, he’s doing okay during this conference call, but I don’t know how long that will last. Still, I’ll let him take the lead as long as he’s on a roll.
“The ski resort lost power as well,” Grant says for the third time. “I’m assuming you don’t want skiers stranded on a lift just because you can’t manage to construct functional power lines.”
I barely hold back a laugh, and Grant meets my gaze as the guy on the line splutters some excuse. He almost smiles, which is a nice change from the glares he’s been giving me all day.
“No,” Grant says, cutting the guy off. “No, that’s not good enough, because between my lodge, the resort, and the three towns you let go black this weekend, you clearly don’t have what it takes to operate in the twenty-first century.”
“But the storm—”
“Storms happen every year. At this point, you shouldn’t be surprised by a bit of snow. What are we even paying your ridiculous prices for?”
I glance at my phone, but Micah still hasn’t responded to my last text. Not that I expect her to. I guess a part of me hopes she needs to be rescued so I can step in and…make sure she goes on a date with another guy. Something is wrong with me.
As Grant keeps arguing, an idea pops into my head, and I move to the corner of our little conference room. He probably won’t answer, but I dial the number anyway.
“’Sup, roomie.”
I choke, unprepared for that greeting. I figured he would be asleep. “Uh, hi. I was hoping you could do me a favor.”
Kale laughs. I don’t even know where his landline is, but I’m picturing him sitting in his closet or something. “Fischer asking me for a favor? That’s new.”
“We’re having a hard time getting the power company to cooperate and look into some power issues we had over the weekend.”
“At the lodge.” It’s not a question. “It was probably caused by the storm, right?”
“Yes, but the nearby ski resort says this is a common issue and happens without fail, even with smaller storms. Everyone who gets power from this company pays extra fees for weather protection, but clearly there’s no protection happening.”
Kale hums, and it sounds like he’s typing something. “That does sound a bit sketchy. Let’s see what I can dig up.”
“Are you hacking into their database?”
“Again with the hacking . I’m trying to better the world, Fischer. Protect the innocent.”
“So you’re hacking their database.”
He lets out a heavy sigh. “Fine. Yes. But only because I like you.”
Grant and his arguing get loud enough that Kale starts laughing.
“That sounds fun,” he says. “Have you ever thought about setting up an appointment for Grant to get his aura cleansed?”
“I don’t know what that means, Kale.”
“Well, do you know what scam means? Because your little power company is intentionally cutting off power during inclement weather.”
I nearly drop my phone. “What? How did you figure that out so quickly?”
“It’s probably better if you don’t ask. I’m going to send this to my team and see what they can do with it. Bye now.”
He hangs up, leaving me flabbergasted. Who in the world is that man?
As I return to my chair, Grant looks like he’s about ready to throw the speaker across the room, which means it’s time for me to step in.
“Question,” I say, even though the power guy is in the middle of a sentence. “Are you purposefully turning off the power so you can charge your customers a premium during the winter?”
The line goes silent, and then the call ends.
Hopefully Kale can actually do something to fix this problem, though I have no idea what this has to do with cyber security.
Grant gapes at me. “What was that?”
“I had my roommate look into the company, and he found evidence of scamming.” I shrug.
“You have a roommate?”
How does he not know this? Frowning, I squirm under his suddenly intense gaze. “Yeah. I haven’t been able to afford my own place since Miranda…”
Grant clasps his hands together on the table, suddenly calm. It’s as if this revelation about me completely distracted him from whatever woes he’s been dealing with. “You don’t really talk about what she did. Has she gone to trial yet?”
I shake my head. “It’s too big a case to jump into it. Could be another year before she’s officially convicted.”
“Are you worried?”
“About what?”
“Fischer.” He so rarely uses my actual name that I’m surprised to hear it now. “What if she tries to pin things on you?”
I’ve thought about it, and she did try in the beginning. But even though there’s a reason she was indicted instead of me, who knows what her lawyers might cook up? We worked together long enough that there will always be a chance I take some of the blame for what happened.
“I already gave up everything I had to try to fix her mistake,” I mutter. “And it’s not like I could lose much else.”
“You could go to prison.”
Honestly, that wouldn’t have bothered me a month ago.
I might have even thought I deserved it because I was the idiot who trusted Miranda and followed her like a lovesick puppy.
But now I have something in my life that makes me want to stay a free man, and she’s two hours away from going on a date with someone else.
As if reading my mind, Grant cocks his head and says, “What’s going on with you and Lila’s assistant?”
My immediate denial dies on my tongue before I can speak it. “I don’t know,” I admit. “She’s too good for me.”
“That’s true.” Grant chuckles. “But she makes you happy. I genuinely don’t remember the last time I saw you smile.”
I’m surprised he even noticed.
“Not all love stories end,” he says, rising to his feet. He has absolutely no room to talk, and yet he seems to believe what he’s saying as he heads for his office. “Don’t let fear get in your way. Not like I have.”
I never could have expected to get love advice from the likes of Grant Bradley. But weirdly, I want to listen to him.
I don’t want to be afraid anymore.