Chapter 12 Miles
TWELVE
Miles
Ainsley has given up on texting me. I wouldn’t mind so much, but now she’s calling me. I’m sitting in my office at work, and I would love nothing more than to ignore her call.
I should let it go to voicemail, but it’s the third time she’s called.
Picking it up, I scowl, hoping she can sense it when I answer the phone.
“What do you want, Ainsley?” I stare at the picture hanging on the office wall, one of my whole family hiking the Middle Sister.
The three mountains in Sisters, Oregon, make for some excellent hiking and family memories.
I was lucky enough to grow up in one of the most beautiful places an outdoor enthusiast could live.
“Who says I didn’t call you just to talk?”
“Because you hate talking on the phone.”
“Good point. They’re going ring shopping.”
I slide my office chair back from the desk and glance out my open office door. “Who is going ring shopping?”
“Who do you think? Preston!”
“What does that have to do with us?”
She sighs. “Listen, I’m so desperate that I’ve been dating online and trying to find someone I can fly to Vegas with. This is not something to be taken lightly. Do you have any friends who are not serial killers and want to get married immediately?”
“First of all, I have no serial killer friends yet, but I’m thinking about finding one who takes care of annoying sisters. When are you going to tell me about the things Preston has done to make you mad?”
“Very funny. Would you like the list alphabetized or in chronological order?”
I snort-laugh at that. “Fair enough.”
“What do you think is a good option here? Because I cannot let that little wretch win.”
“Do you suppose Grandma is oblivious to his crap?”
The woman is super sharp. There’s no way she can’t see what a rat her grandson has turned out to be. We all keep hoping he’ll move somewhere far, far away. Hopefully, a remote island with no cell service. It would be a dream come true for the rest of us.
He was one of those obnoxious favorite children. His parents told him he could do no wrong, and he believed them. He’s been bailed out of mess after mess, and I have yet to see him suffer the consequences of his own actions. I keep hoping it will all catch up to him someday.
But for now, he’s getting awfully close to winning the bet. With my ex-girlfriend.
“Grandma doesn’t spend as much time with Preston as we do. And he’s always nice to her. Are you sure you don’t know anyone I could marry next weekend?” Ainsley says.
“No. Kingston is a little booked. Archie is married already.”
“Maybe you could get married.”
“To whom?”
“Are there no single women at your work? You’ve got to be kidding.”
Thea stops at the door, holding her tablet up in the air, pointing to something on the screen. “I’ve got the financials ready for you,” she whispers.
“Actually, I do know someone who’s single,” I tell Ainsley as I grin at Thea. She immediately looks suspicious. “I might ask Thea to marry me. What do you think, Thea?”
Thea narrows her eyes. “Eat—”
“I think that means no,” I say over her with a laugh. “Ainsley, I’ve got to go. I have something called a job.”
I hang up the phone before she can say anything.
Thea is still eyeing me like I’ve grown a third arm. “Do I even want to know?”
“My little sister wants me to get married next week.”
“Oh, okay. Well, in that case, I’ll make sure to not schedule any board meetings then.” She hurries in and sets an iPad down in front of me. “This is the projection for the Legacy building if we decide to rent to that restaurateur.”
She stands there while I read over the summary. It’s higher than we predicted—the story of every project. We need to start doubling our estimates.
“How’s it going with Lucy?” Thea asks.
I glance up sharply. Thea’s all business. It’s why she’s great to work with. She actually keeps us all on track. Without her, this company wouldn’t be running as efficiently—or bringing in such a high profit.
“It’s going great.”
Thea nods. “Be nice to her.”
I’m sure I look shocked. “When have I not been nice to someone?”
Thea sits down on the edge of my desk and stares down her nose at me. “I mean, don’t hurt her.”
“Good grief. What do you think I do? Collect bodies in basements?”
“No, I think you’re fun, and I think you’re a flirt.”
“And I didn’t think you knew Lucy that well.” My phone chimes.
Ainsley: Marriage. Make it happen. (It’s my new slogan)
Thea shrugs. “I got to know her a little bit when we were working on the cat café. And she’s sweet.”
I fold my arms across my chest. “And you think I don’t know that? She’s been a great roommate.”
Thea picks up one of my pens and begins clicking it repetitively. “She’s sweet. And wholesome. And even though she comes across bubbly, I think she’s been hurt in the past. I guess what I’m saying is, she’s vulnerable.”
I swallow the lump in my throat. Thea is simply reaffirming exactly what I’ve learned for myself. Lucy wears a mask for the world to see, but I’ve glimpsed under it, and there’s something softer underneath. Something breakable.
“Why are you telling me this? Why isn’t Willa?”
“I don’t think Willa even realizes it. Because I think Lucy is careful to present herself as totally fine to her little sister. I don’t think she wants to worry her.” Thea looks thoughtful.
I nod. “I’ve noticed the same thing. Lucy seems to present herself as this happy, upbeat person, but I do think a lot of it is forced.”
Thea shrugs. “It’s a protection mechanism. She’s probably learned that it keeps her safe.”
I pick up a pen myself and start clicking in tandem with Thea. “I think she feels safe at my house.”
“Really?” Thea says in surprise. “What makes you say that?”
“She doesn’t hold the same mask. She’s still nice and fun,” I add. “It feels more relaxed. Like when she smiles, it’s when she genuinely thinks something is funny.”
“Interesting…” Thea muses. “Which brings me back to my original point. If she’s comfortable with you, don’t screw things up.”
She stands up, tosses the pen on my desk, and leaves the room.
I don’t know how I could possibly screw things up with Lucy. We’re friends now.
I leave the office and ignore Ainsley’s text. I would love nothing more than to make sure that Preston loses the bet. But I don’t know what I’m supposed to do—use a mail-order bride website and pick someone at random?
I text Lucy.
Me: I’m going to the grocery store and replacing your Mountain Dew. Do you need anything else?
She texts me back a selfie of her hugging a huge horse head.
Lucy: Yes, I’m going to need some kind of bucket to feed this guy when I bring him into the backyard.
Me: I think you might need a bigger backyard.
Lucy: His head is as big as my entire body! I just want to squeeze him.