6. Margot
CHAPTER 6
Margot
“ S o this is a local beach that’s relatively unknown to tourists.” I circle a spot on the map and smile at the young couple across from me. They’re visiting from Dallas, Texas, a bucket list trip for her on their first wedding anniversary.
“Thank you so much. We’re so excited to get some time in the sun.” She smiles at her husband, who grins right back. The love between them makes even a cynic like me long for that type of affection.
And why does Jaxson Payne come to mind?
“Well, this is going to be the best place to do it. It’s relatively quiet, though you’ll have some local teens there as soon as school lets out. The weather may not be hot yet, but it’s perfect for beach lounging.” I fold up the map and offer it to her husband.
“Thank you so much, Margot. Seriously. You’ve been so amazing. ”
The phone rings. “You’re welcome, Shelly. Have fun, you guys. We’ll see you later.” After waving them off, I answer the phone. “Hello?” Nothing. “Hello?” I ask again.
When no one answers, I set the receiver down and make a note for myself to check on the status of Chad’s lawsuit with Beckett Wallace, my lawyer and one of my oldest friends. I haven’t heard anything since I sent the papers to her, and she promised to make my ex wish he’d never met me in the first place.
Given all that I know she’s capable of, I’ve no doubt she will.
Desperate for a jolt of caffeine, I move around the counter and head for the kitchen. I’ve only taken a few steps when I hear the bell ding over my front door.
So close. I’m coming for you, coffee. Abandoning my mission to caffeinate, I head back into the main lobby, but the smile I’ve plastered on turns genuine when I see that it’s Jaxson walking in. “Hey, I was just about to grab some coffee. Want some?”
“Sure, thanks.”
He’s dressed for the gym, looking beyond attractive in dark gray basketball shorts and a black sleeveless shirt, his hair a mess from running his hands through it while he boxed. Which I only know he was doing because I walked past Michael’s gym on my way to the bakery for muffins this morning.
I had to stop and watch for a few moments, even though I have no idea how I would’ve explained ogling him had I been caught .
After grabbing two mugs from the cabinet, I fill each with steaming black liquid, then offer him his and prep mine.
He still doesn’t speak.
I turn to face him. “So what’s going on? How’s your day so far?”
“Margot, are you struggling to keep this place open?”
His question catches me off guard. I stare at him for a moment. “What?”
He sets the mug aside and runs a hand over the back of his neck. “I saw the bills on your desk last night. I didn’t mean to. I was just checking on you, and they were right there.”
Embarrassment flushes my cheeks, and I have to look away. I can’t be mad at him, of course, because it’s not his fault they were right there and I’d fallen asleep on them. But why, oh why, God, did he have to see them? “It’s nothing I can’t handle.” I force a smile.
“Margot.”
“Jaxson. Seriously. I can do this.”
“I’m not saying you can’t,” he replies.
“Then why are you asking? Are you worried about finding another place to stay if I close my doors? Because that’s not going to happen.” Suddenly, I’m not spiraling over my debt, but at the idea of not seeing Jaxson Payne every day.
He moves in close enough that I can make out the flecks of color in his hazel gaze. “I’m asking because I’d like to help you. If you’re open to it. ”
“You’re already helping me.”
“I know, but that’s different. I have money saved up, more than enough to cover what you owe and help?—”
“Absolutely not.” I shake my head. “You will not be giving me a dime.”
“Margot.”
“Did you tell Michael?” I ask, pride forcing me to feel beyond vulnerable. I hate it.
“Of course not.” He steps back. “It’s not my place.”
“You’re right. It’s not.” I really shouldn’t be angry. I know Jaxson well enough to know that his offer comes from a good place. But his desire to help too closely mirrors Chad telling me that I won’t ever be able to keep this place going without him.
Which is exactly what he said to me when I told him to get out.
“I only want to help you, Margot. You can consider it an advance of my rent.”
“An advance of your—” I do some quick calculations. “That would be fifteen years of rent at your current rate.”
“Then raise it,” he insists. “I told you when you offered me the maintenance apartment that you weren’t charging me enough.”
“You help me around here, that more than covers it.”
“Some paint here and there, changing out a lightbulb, that doesn’t account for the difference, Margot. Please, I’m asking you to let me help you. I can and I want to.”
“I have a separate account that I can borrow from if I need to,” I tell him, though only I know that I will never touch Matty’s college fund. Not even to save my dream.
“Margot. I’m not asking to be involved in your business, and I promise we’ll never speak about it again. You can even pay me back if you want. But let me help you so you don’t lose this place.”
I consider his offer. The kindness he’s already shown me.
And then the front door opens and Matty strolls in. He stops when he sees us, his gaze going from me to Jaxson, then back to me. “What’s going on?”
“Nothing, honey. Just a serious conversation.”
Matty’s gaze narrows on Jaxson. “Is everything okay?” he asks, looking back at me.
“Yes, of course.” I force a smile, then turn to Jaxson. “We’ll finish the conversation later.”
“Of course.” Jaxson heads up the stairs to his apartment, and even though I long to look back at him, I don’t.
“Hungry?” I ask Matty.
“What’s going on, Mom?”
“What do you mean, honey?” I try to keep my tone level as I pull some cookies out of the jar and place them on a plate for my son.
“I know something’s up. You keep trying to hide things from me, but I know something’s wrong, so what is it? Did Jaxson say something to hurt you?”
My son, my sweet boy, stands and starts toward the door, ready to take on a man twice his size .
“No, no, no, honey. Not at all. Jaxson was trying to help.”
He turns toward me. “Help with what?”
I sigh. I could keep it from him. Tell him a half-truth that downplays the entire situation. But it’s Matty’s life, too. “Remember a few months ago when we had that pipe that broke upstairs?”
“Yeah.”
“And before that when the ice storm hit and the old tree that was outside fell onto the house so we’d needed the roof repaired?”
“Yeah,” he repeats.
“Well, between the deductibles, the monthly bills, and a few other incidentals, I’ve got a mountain of debt I’m currently dealing with.” I leave out the debt I discovered that Chad took out in my name—the seven-thousand-dollar credit card balance that didn’t even make the list Jaxson saw.
“Mom. Why didn’t you tell me?”
“The last thing I want to do is burden you with stuff like this. It’s mine to figure out, and I will. Jaxson just happened to stumble across some of the bills, and he was offering to help.”
“Did you take him up on it?”
“What? No. This is my thing to deal with.”
“But, Mom.” Matty reaches over and touches my hand. Other than the occasional hug, it’s the first time he’s initiated contact like this. “Jaxson wants to help.”
“He’s been enough of a help lately. ”
“Fine. Sure. But if he wants to help, why not let him?”
“Because these aren’t his problems.”
“I just don’t get it. You tell me all the time if I need help to ask for it. You need help. You’re already running this place practically by yourself and you won’t let me do hardly anything.”
“You have school.”
“Yeah, I know, but still. Why can’t you accept Jaxson’s help when he’s clearly offering it?”
I can’t bring myself to tell him that it’s because even though I know Jaxson is not Chad, the idea of allowing a man to have even the illusion he helped get me out of a bind is terrifying. I never want anyone to have anything like that to hold over my head ever again.
“Jaxson isn’t Dad, Mom. If he were, he would have bailed already.”
I meet his gaze. “What?” Had I said something out loud?
“I’m not stupid. I know that’s what you’re worried about. I heard some of your fights with Dad. He threw this place in your face over and over again. But Jaxson’s not like that.”
Jaxson’s words come rushing back. “Margot. I’m not asking to be involved in your business, and I promise we’ll never speak about it again. You can even pay me back if you want. But let me help you so you don’t lose this place.”
“No,” I admit, defeated. “He’s not Dad.”
With a heaping plate of cookies and a fresh cup of coffee, I make my way upstairs and down the hall to the maintenance apartment at the very top of the house. Until Chad, I was never prideful. But now, accepting help feels like acid against my skin.
Before I can talk myself out of what I’m about to do, I knock.
A few seconds later, Jaxson is pulling open the door, wearing dark jeans and a white T-shirt, his dark hair wet from the shower he must have just finished. “Everything okay?” he asks, eyeing the cookies then me.
“May I come in?”
“Sure.” He steps aside so I can move into his apartment.
I’ve been in here a few times since he moved in, but with the nerves churning in my belly. I take a moment to study the room, averting my gaze in hopes it will help ease the discomfort that has me wanting to run right back out the door.
“Is everything okay?” he asks, then crosses over and takes a seat on the edge of his made bed to put on boots.
“I want to start by apologizing.”
He arches a brow. “You have nothing to apologize for.”
“No, I do. You’ve never been anything but kind and helpful, and it wasn’t my intention to make you think I thought little of you or your offer.”
“I didn’t think you did,” he replies. “I just figured you were like your brother—stubborn.”
He flashes me a grin that completely disarms me. “I don’t want Michael or my parents to know that I’m having trouble. I never told them about—” I take a deep breath. I have to trust that he won’t divulge my secrets. “Chad took out a credit card in my name, and I’ve been treading water ever since. I made some big payments to it, which drained my savings account, and then I was hit with?—”
“You don’t have to explain,” he interrupts as he gets to his feet. “We’re friends and you could use—not need—the help.”
“I need it,” I reply. “Or I’m going to lose this place.”
“Tell me what you need.”
“Before we get to that, I want to tell you that if you decide you can’t help me, it’s okay. I can try and get a bank loan, sell my car, whatever I need to do. I don’t want this to affect our friendship.”
“Friendship.” His tone makes the word feel weighted. Unfamiliar. As though it’s not enough to describe what we are together. But before I can think too strongly on it, he nods. “Not a problem.”
“Okay. I also would like to invite you to dinner tonight. I’m making baked salmon and vegetables with cheddar biscuits.”
“Count me in.” His grin is so adorable that I respond with one of my own. “I’ll grab dessert.”
“Deal.”
“And tell Matty to bring out his chess board. I can show him how to really play.”
I laugh. “He’ll like that.”
“Good.” Our gazes hold a moment, and I’m unable to tear mine away, no matter how badly I know I need to. We still have things to talk about, and the way Jaxson is looking at me, the intensity in his gaze, is making me feel things I have no business feeling.
Want.
Need.
Desire.
I clear my throat. “We can discuss details after Matty goes to bed. If that works for you.”
“Just tell me how much, Margot. I don’t need anything other than that.”
“But—”
“Just the amount. I’ll grab a cashier’s check today.”
“Jaxson—” It’s happening too fast, right? Like, he’s just going to go pick up money now? Shouldn’t I tell him what it’s for? How I plan to pay him back?
He moves in close enough that the scent of his bodywash fills my lungs. Cedar and a hint of salt. It’s intoxicating. “I don’t need details,” he repeats. “I know you and I want to help. Just let me help.”
“It’s more than what you saw.”
“Not a problem. Give me the amount.”
I close my eyes, embarrassment flushing my cheeks. “Nineteen thousand, seven hundred and fifty-two dollars.” Opening my eyes, I look up at him, searching for any sign that he’s backing out.
But he just nods. “I’ll have the check for you at dinner.”
“Just like that? ”
“Just like that,” he repeats. His phone rings, so he reaches down to check the screen. “Michael.”
“I’ll get out of your hair. Thank you, Jaxson. I’m going to pay you back. I promise.”
“No need to promise,” he replies. “I’m not worried about it.”