Chapter 17
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
TOO MANY STRIKES
GOLDIE
I’ve felt like an open wound since finding out Milo is Bruce’s nephew. Because he lied. For months he kept it from us, knowing that there was every reason to distrust him.
I shouldn’t have told him about Wes.
There’s a reason I’ve kept that history squashed down somewhere that I try not to revisit.
I don’t like thinking about those months after I found out, how small and broken and foolish I felt.
I promised I’d never let myself feel that way about anyone again, and I haven’t come anywhere close to that.
Until now.
And it makes no sense because Milo and I aren’t even together.
But my heart seems to get more attached to him each day, whether I even see him or not.
My brain says no, do not let him in, and my heart says yes, please—there’s room for him right here. Trust is a precious commodity as far as I’m concerned, something that I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to fully give someone else. At least not anyone outside my circle of trust.
I can’t believe I was starting to let Milo in that circle.
He says I can trust him, but how is that possible? He already has a strike against him because he’s a man I’m attracted to.
I can’t believe he’s a Granger. That would be a big enough strike in itself. Not to mention, Ava Piper is also his cousin?
But the lies.
It’s just too many strikes against him.
I know better than to get invested in anyone with red flags, so why is he all I can think about?
I go to Kitty-Corner Cafe in desperate need of distraction…
and Juju’s lemon scones and coffee won’t hurt.
I see all the regulars—Bosco is even at the front—but it goes quiet when I step inside.
Juju looks worried when she sees me and waves me back.
I follow her into the kitchen where she’s been piping cream into a row of eclairs.
“I was going to call you,” she says, picking up a piece of yellow paper and handing it to me. “Have you seen these?”
I frown and flatten the page on the countertop.
Protect Windy Harbor. Say no to overdevelopment. Say no to the Whitman Project.
I stare at the bold font, feeling sick to my stomach. There’s a grainy, unflattering photo of the project that’s underway. The flyer warns of traffic congestion, corporate greed, and environmental destruction, like we’re planning to build a shopping mall.
I flip it over. There’s no name or group listed.
“Where did you get this?” I ask.
“They’ve been popping up all over. One was taped to the light pole outside and someone set this on the front counter. I asked Bosco if he saw who left it and he didn’t know but said he’d seen one at Cox earlier this morning. I have no idea who’s behind it.”
I don’t have proof, but I have a pretty good idea of who it could be.
Bruce Granger has always played dirty, and if his nephew wasn’t cooperating with him to bring us down, maybe he convinced his newfound daughter to do it for him. I’d like to think this is all circumstantial, but there are just too many coincidences that involve Ava Piper.
If I’m right about her, she has played dirty from day one. And now she’s going after my family? I don’t think so.
The bell rings on the door and Juju lifts her thumb behind her.
“Sorry, I better get out there. I just wanted to make sure you were aware of these.”
“Thank you.”
I follow her out to the restaurant and she works on my coffee. I look around to see who came in and Ava Piper is setting her things down at my table. Of course she goes for my table too—she’s Milo’s freaking cousin.
When she walks to the counter, my blood runs hot. She pauses only for a second when she sees me. Her hair is in a sleek ponytail and with her heels, we almost see eye to eye. I hold up the flyer and watch for her reaction. Her eyes drop to the paper and then back to me.
“Is there something you’re trying to say?” she asks. “I’ll have my usual, Juju. Thanks.”
I scoff. “You’ve been in town two seconds and you already have a usual?”
Juju shoots me an apologetic look as she sets my scone and coffee out for me and gets to work on what I assume is Ava’s order.
“I’m sorry, were you under the impression this town belongs to you?” Ava asks coolly.
I ignore her attitude and wave the paper. “Did you have anything to do with these showing up around town?”
Her expression is bored and I have to say, she’s maintaining her cool. I’d at least have the decency to be nervous if I was confronted like this.
“I think the people here have a right to be concerned.” She folds her hands. “Something your family should’ve considered before bulldozing a piece of Windy Harbor’s history.”
“We’re restoring it. Reviving it. And no one had any objections until you showed up. I’m not sure they do now. What I do know is that you and your dad are stirring up trouble.”
Her eyebrow lifts slightly. “Maybe the locals didn’t realize what was really at stake.”
“Oh, give me a break,” I snap. “You don’t care about Windy Harbor. You’re not from here. You don’t know the people or the history. Why don’t you admit what this is really about?”
I think something flickers in her eyes, just for a second, but then it’s gone.
“I’m just offering people information,” she says.
When Juju sets the coffee on the counter, Ava picks it up and puts cash on the counter, thanking Juju.
“What the people do with the information is their decision,” she says, turning to go.
“What’s in it for you?”
She steps closer, voice low and icy. “Maybe I enjoy seeing the Whitmans get a taste of discomfort. Everything’s gone pretty sunny for you, hasn’t it, Goldie Whitman?” Her lips curl as she steps back. “Enjoy the fall. I know I will.”
When she walks away, I stare after her, everything inside me shaking.
“What was that about?” Juju asks. “She’s always seemed so nice when she comes in here!”
“She’s been in here often?”
“Not super often, but maybe four or five times in the past few months?”
“I think she was threatening me,” I say slowly. I look incredulously at Juju. “From what Milo said, she just found out she’s Bruce Granger’s daughter. Would she really take on the rivalry that seriously as a new member of the family?”
“No way. I didn’t know Bruce had another daughter!”
Juliana’s family lived near us in St. Paul.
Our families were close, and they got a lake house here around the same time as us.
It wasn’t until she got her associate’s degree from college that Juju decided to move to Windy Harbor full-time.
She was my best friend growing up, and her brother Jackson and Camden were best friends.
Still are. One of the Fairs was always at our house, or we were at theirs. So Juju knows all about the Grangers.
“My dad has told us about the Granger rivalry for years, and we always knew to steer clear of them, but I’ve never seen any blatant hatred firsthand until now. Dad always kept us kids out of it, but it seems like Bruce isn’t doing the same thing with his kids.”
Juju shakes her head. “It’s such a waste. I hate it.” She leans closer and whispers, “And I’m sad that I was ever nice to Ava.”
I wave her off. “Don’t be. I don’t expect you to carry this grudge on my behalf.” My eyes narrow. “But if she tries to be your best friend, I’m gonna bitch-slap her.”
Juju snorts. “I’d like to see you try.”
I laugh. “I’d probably bump into something first and end up hitting myself. Seriously though, I really dislike her.”
“As much as you dislike Milo?” She smirks and puts dislike in quotes.
I roll my eyes. “I feel a whole different kind of dislike for him.”
“Is it the kind of dislike that makes you want to ravage his body and have his babies?” Erin’s voice comes in low from behind me and I startle and then smack her in the arm.
Erin and Juju cackle and I groan, shaking my head. I lift my coffee and take a big bite of my scone.
“Better go. Coffee’s getting cold,” I say with my mouth full and hightail it to the door.
“That’s right. Leave like a scaredy cat,” Erin says loudly.
“I’ve gotta get home to Kevin.”
“I can’t believe you named that little angel Kevin,” Erin groans.
“What did you name his sister?” I ask.
“Sabrina…which is a perfectly fitting and beautiful name for a dog. Unlike Kevin.” She pouts.
I point my scone at her and open the door to leave. “Take it up with my dad.”
“Fine, you win!” I hear her yelling as I walk out.
Back at the property, Milo is crouched in the gravel going over drainage for the courtyard. He looks up when I stomp toward him, and his brows draw together.
“What’s wrong?” he asks, straightening.
I hold the crumpled flyer up and wave it. “Your cousin is stirring up a smear campaign against my family and this project. How great do you think she is now?”
His expression darkens and he curses. “This is…” He shakes his head. “I’m sorry, Goldie. I’ll have a talk with my cousin and see if there’s anything I can do.”
“So you didn’t know about it?”
Hurt crosses his features, but he just shakes his head. “No,” he says finally. “I didn’t.”
I stalk off to the house and my dad and I hang out with Tully and Camden until they have to leave for Camden’s flight. We go over the new plans for the restaurant Milo had already drawn up this morning and Camden is excited about them.
Dad says his goodbyes and goes to lie down as I walk them out. I pull out the flyer and show them and it infuriates them like it did me.
“I want to believe Milo, but I just don’t know,” I admit.
“I think I trust him,” Tully says. “He’s done nothing but help us. It’s not like he’s bringing the project down. If anything, he’s gone above and beyond, don’t you think?”
I nod. “It seems like it, yes. I don’t know…I hate that he’s related to them! And why did he lie?” I pace a few steps and turn back to look at them. “For so long,” I add. “I don’t want to upset Dad with this. I don’t think he needs to know, do you?”
“No. He’s been off since seeing Bruce at the restaurant. I think we keep it to ourselves,” Tully says.
“I agree. He’s been really quiet,” Camden adds. “And the bottom line is, we have the permits in place. Unless someone brings up any serious objections that they can legally back up, there’s nothing anyone can really do about it now.”
“Yeah, I just don’t like to think that anyone in town hates us.” I make a face. “It was important to Dad to have their support and if they’re not giving it now, I’m not sure he’ll be as happy about moving forward.”
“Keep telling people about what we’re really planning to do and I think they’ll get excited about it,” Camden says. He looks at his phone. “We better go.”
We hug again and I have a lump in my throat as my brothers drive away.
Later, I’m sitting out on the deck with a glass of wine, Kevin snoozing in my lap. Dad went to bed an hour ago, and it’s quiet out here except for the sounds of Lake Superior lapping against the shore.
“Got room for me?”
I look up and Milo is standing there. Ugh. There’s no avoiding the man. I hold up the bottle of wine and he laughs.
“You want me to chug it?” he asks.
I shrug. “I have a glass here, but chugging it sounds more fun.”
“You’re right.”
He holds the bottle to his mouth and takes a drink. He sits down next to me and smiles, handing me the bottle. I take a long pull and he stares at me, swallowing hard.
“Feels like we should be playing Truth or Dare or something,” he says, chuckling.
The wine warms my chest. My body is relaxed for the first time all day and that’s probably the only reason I find myself saying, “Okay. I haven’t played that since high school. Right over there.” I point to the firepit closer to the water.
“I bet you always chose truth,” he says, taking another swig.
“And I bet you always tried to charm your way out of answering. That’s the way liars work.”
He flinches but then lifts his shoulders, eyes smiling. “The charm, maybe.”
“Truth or dare,” he says. “Ladies first.”
“Okay, fine.” I narrow my eyes. “Truth or dare, Lombardi.”
“Dare.” He doesn’t hesitate.
“I dare you to hold Kevin and pretend you’re a dog person.”
He reaches for Kevin and I hand him over. The puppy groggily opens his eyes and settles quickly into Milo’s lap.
“That’s easy,” he says. “I am a dog person.”
I harrumph. It figures.
“Truth or dare?” he says.
“Truth.”
His grin widens. “Okay. Admit that I’m not that bad after all.”
“You’re not bad, you’re awful!”
“Come on, tell the truth.” He laughs. “I’d started to win you over.”
“If you are what you seem…you might not be quite as bad as I thought you were. But are you?”
He smirks. “How do I seem?”
“Cocky and arrogant.”
He laughs. “You were sure ready to go with those lovely attributes. Hmm. I’d say yes to cocky, not as much to arrogant. Arrogance is more about looking down on someone else, isn’t it? And I don’t do that.” He makes a face. “So, really, I’m not so bad, right?”
I roll my eyes and bite the inside of my mouth, trying not to grin. How could he possibly be getting to me? “It’s my turn. Truth or dare?”
“Dare.”
“Mmhmm. Thought so. Okay, I dare you to tell me what you thought about me the first time you met me.”
“That’s just another way to get the truth out of me!”
I snort and hand the bottle back to him. “Deal with it.”
“I knew you wouldn’t play fair,” he grumbles. He turns to look at me and I shift under his gaze. “I thought you were beautiful and mouthy and probably going to ruin my life.”
My throat tightens and I laugh because I don’t know how else to respond. “Two out of three isn’t bad.”
“I’m still waiting for you to do the third,” he says. “Truth or dare?”
“Truth.”
He points at me. “You scared of what I’d dare you to do?”
I shake my head. “Shush.”
“Okay…tell me something you hate about me.”
“Ugh. Let me count the ways.” I take another long pull of wine.
It must be the alcohol and his honesty that make me say, “I hate that you lied. I hate that you’re impossible to stop thinking about.
I hate that I want to yell at you and kiss you and set your smirk on fire.
Even your hair smirks and it’s so hot and so annoying. ”
He stares at me for a long moment, his mouth twitching, before he leans closer and smirks, dammit!
I groan and it just makes him laugh.
“Come here,” he says, leaning closer yet. “Come here and set my smirk on fire.”