Chapter 39
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
Amanda Spencer—Charlotte’s mother—is standing in the doorway of my bakery kitchen. I blink my eyes several times quickly. Am I imagining things? What in the world is she doing here? She looks manic, her eyes wild and large. A large, orange gasoline tank is hanging from her right hand. She’s wearing an entirely black ensemble—leggings, sweater, boots—and an unusual amount of jewelry. The bump on my head makes it hard to think clearly, to piece together the puzzle. Why is she here?
When her eyes meet mine, I desperately try to gulp for breath. She’s glaring at me with what I can only describe as pure hatred.
“Hello, Reese,” she says, her voice cold and sharp. She walks across the room, closing the distance between us. When she’s about a foot away from me, I flinch, thinking she’s going to slap me across the face. Instead she stands on my left side and lifts me with a surprising strength until my chair is upright.
I try to speak, to yell, but she shakes her head, standing in front of me.
“I will take the tape off your mouth, but you have to agree to stay calm.” Amanda holds up what looks like a small brass lighter. She flips open the lid. “If you start screaming, I’m going to light this entire place on fire.”
As she says that, she looks down at the hem of my dress, which is puddled on the floor. I notice that the entire bottom of the dress has been yellowed from gasoline. I gulp at the realization that with one flick of her lighter my entire dress—and me—will go up in flames. My heart beats so fast I feel like it might crawl up my throat and jump out of my mouth.
I give her a feverish nod, my whole body trembling.
She leans down closer to me, and with one swift motion, rips the duct tape off my mouth. The pain is quick and intense; my entire lower face burns. She tosses the tape on the floor.
“Such a shame to mess up that beautiful makeup,” she says, her voice dripping with sarcasm.
“What are you doing here?” I say, my voice coming out weak and raspy.
Amanda turns from me as she speaks, walking back to the end of the prep table where the plastic gasoline can sits. “That’s a great question, Reese. What am I doing here?” She turns back to face me. “Well, I tried to tell you to stop the wedding, that Tucker wasn’t for you, but you didn’t listen. So I had to take matters into my own hands.”
I try to think of something to say, but I’m stunned into silence. It was her, the whole time. Amanda Spencer is the one who’s been harassing me.
“Why?” I croak, unable to muster anything more.
“I wasn’t about to let you have the wedding that my daughter had dreamed of. Let you steal her moment from her. So why am I here? To make sure that you don’t get to keep what you stole.” Her words tumble out in a rush, her eyes gleaming with a manic energy that sends chills down my spine.
My mind races. “What are you talking about? Charlotte left Tucker at the altar. She left him, and now she’s gone. He called me the day of the wedding and told me what happened. It was awful what she did to him.”
Amanda’s eyes flare with something animal. For a moment I think she might jump across the table and strangle me. Instead, she takes a deep breath through her nose and brushes a few wispy strands of hair behind her ear.
I notice that she’s wearing makeup and several strands of pearls. It’s odd to see her all dressed up, wearing her jewelry. And then I notice she’s wearing lots of other pieces as well—necklaces, bracelets, rings. Her pockets are weighed down with what looks like jewels. Why is she wearing so much jewelry?
“What she did to him?” Her voice has taken on an edge that’s almost maniacal. “It’s not what Charlotte did to Tucker. It’s what you did to them.”
I shake my head, willing it to make sense. Sure, Tucker and I had some chemistry when we met. But I made sure to keep it professional. He was engaged to someone else.
“What then? What did I do?” Anger tinges my voice, frustration taking over my desire to stay calm.
“Well, it’s a rather long story, but I’ll give you the short version.” Amanda speaks in a composed, teacher-like tone. “Tucker and Charlotte had been having some trouble. The wedding was causing a bit of stress between them, and Tucker was unhappy. Charlotte refused to see it for what it was—he’d lost interest in her. The shiny veneer of her had started to wear off. This rift created an opening for him to be swayed toward someone else.”
She pauses, her eyes boring into mine. “So, when I saw the way Tucker looked at you at the cake tasting that day, I knew. I knew you were going to be a problem. I knew that Tucker was attracted to you and he was already considering the idea of leaving my dear Charlotte. And that’s exactly what happened.”
I shake my head from side to side, confused. “No, Tucker and I didn’t start dating until after the wedding was canceled.”
“Oh, Reese, you’re so na?ve,” Amanda says, her voice dripping with condescension. “Why do you think he kept stopping into your shop to buy cupcakes twice a week? Or take you out to lunch or for coffee whenever you were free? He was falling for you. Sure, you may not have had your first date until after the wedding never happened, you may not have shared your first kiss until a month later, but he was already smitten. He was already in love. I’ve been around long enough to know what it looks like.”
She shifts her stance, moving the plastic gasoline can across the table. Several of her large gold and silver bracelets clang against the stainless steel, the sound echoing in the quiet kitchen. It crosses my mind that I could start screaming right now, but I know it’s no use. It’s Saturday morning, and all the shops are closed, including mine. Many of the shop owners next door are probably already at the wedding, seated on either the groom’s or the bride’s side of the aisle. I feel like I might throw up, but I manage to swallow hard.
I try to focus on what Amanda is saying, accusing me of having an affair with Tucker even though I was dating someone else and the two of them were nearly a month away from their wedding. At the same time, I’m not even sure what to say right now. It feels like she’s made up her mind. Wearing all of her best jewelry, and with that crazy look in her eyes, it’s clear. She plans to burn this place down with the two of us in it. The thought terrifies me.
I need to keep her talking. The longer she talks, the better chance I have of getting the hell out of here.
“Okay, fine. Tucker liked me. But I kept it professional. I would never?—”
“Oh, drop the innocent little act, Reese. I’m not buying it. “
My mouth falls open. How could she?
“You’re wrong. I was dating Zach. If I hadn’t met Tucker, we’d probably still be together.”
It felt wrong to admit it, but it was true. I liked Zach. Really liked him. Maybe I wasn’t madly in love with him like I am with Tucker, but at the time, I didn’t know any better.
Amanda tips her head back and begins to laugh.
“You really are clueless, Reese. Did Zach even tell you he was engaged before?”
My heart thuds in my chest. I shake my head, which is painful. At this point, I really don’t care whom Zach dated, slept with, or was engaged to before. I want to get out of here. But the longer I keep her talking the better chance I have.
“No,” I say.
She laughs again. “Well, I guess that doesn’t surprise me. Zach was engaged to Charlotte. They dated for six years. He never got over the breakup. He was still calling and texting her, even when he was with you.”
I swallow a lump in my throat, which is so incredibly dry. It stings a little, knowing he wasn’t completely honest. But then again, neither was I.
“They stayed friends, even after they broke up . Does that sound familiar?” She pauses and raises her eyebrows at me. “But, of course, it was different in your situation. Zach didn’t want to stay friends with you—he was angry. Furious after what happened to Charlotte.”
“Then why did he stay friends with me?” I ask, playing along. My eyes continue to flit around the room, searching for anything to get me out of this situation. Not to mention, the longer I keep her talking, the more time the driver has to return. What is taking him so long?
“Because I asked him to.”
I turn my eyes back to her, the two of us locked in a long stare.
What is she talking about?