15. Grady
CHAPTER 15
GRADY
“No overt displays of affection, please,” Spencer says out the side of her mouth as I knock on the front door that belongs to Eleanor and Marko. I have to watch where I knock to avoid the large, brightly-coloured wreath that’s adorning the door of the craftsman-style home. The flowers strategically match the ones in the planter on the stoop. “This is a work dinner for me.”
“Whatever you say, dear ,” I tease. At this point, I’m used to Spencer telling me what to do, and it’s not lost on me that we sound like an old married couple. “I’ll be on my best behaviour, I promise.”
The door opens and reveals Eleanor standing on the other side, a wide smile on her face. She’s a petite woman and fit for her age. Tonight, she’s wearing a classy navy shift dress, and a string of pearls around her neck to match the ones dangling from her ears.
“Spencer and Grady, what a treat it is to see you here together.” She holds her arms out towards us and Spencer leans in for a hug. Eleanor’s husband, Marko, appears from around the corner, followed by a large, loping black-and-white Great Dane. He nuzzles up to Spencer, leaving a streak of drool along the side of her hip.
“Wallace, no . Not everybody wants to be greeted with your slobber,” Eleanor scolds, sending him back into the living room.
“It’s okay, really,” Spencer says, wiping her hand down her dress to smooth it out. “I love dogs. Wallace is cute.”
Marko approaches me with an outstretched hand, and I extend mine back. Of course, I already know Marko and Eleanor. They were long-time friends of my parents, and Eleanor is still close with Winnie. Though having dinner in their home, with Spencer, is like meeting them in a whole new capacity. One I know they aren’t used to seeing me in, either.
We get the mandatory greetings out of the way and follow them through the entryway and into their large open-concept kitchen and living space. The home is cozy, with warm dim lighting and candles already lit on the dining table. It’s a different sort of feel from my place, more farmhouse than mid-century modern, but the effect is lived in, in a way that I like.
“Can I get anyone anything to drink?” Eleanor inquires. Spencer doesn’t hesitate to ask for a glass of red wine, and I ask Marko if he has a cold beer. He gets one out of the fridge and proceeds to pour it into an already-chilled glass.
“You have beautiful taste, Eleanor,” I say, looking around the room as I take the glass from Marko. “I can’t believe that I’ve never actually seen the inside of your place before tonight.”
“You never were one to stop in for a visit, which you could have done anytime you know. You don’t have to stay hidden away in that old house of yours.” Her tone isn’t accusing, just the opposite. Eleanor doesn’t have it in her.
“I like it over there, if I’m honest. Keeps me out of any gossip or town drama. You know I hate drama.”
“Well, I guess you still managed to snag yourself a date, even hiding way out in the boonies.” My shoulders tense, my body going into defense mode, ready for Spencer to deny that we’re together, but she doesn’t. Instead, she casually sips her wine as if unaffected, but I notice the pink flush that’s spreading up her neck.
“I sure did.”
Eleanor turns her attention to Spencer now.
“How are you liking Heartwood?” she asks, gesturing for us to take a seat around the table, as Marko starts plating our food. I pull Spencer’s chair out for her, and she sits, offering me a shy smile. I take the seat to the right of her, opposite Eleanor and Marko.
“I absolutely love it here. Some of my very favourite people are here in Heartwood.” I know that Spencer is talking about Ally when she says this, but when her eyes dart over to me I can’t help but wonder— hope —that I might be included in that group of people now as well.
“Right, you’re Ally’s friend. I forgot that you had some connections here,” Eleanor says as Marko places a steaming plate of pasta in front of her before returning to the kitchen to get his own. “Now that you have another one, will you stay here a while longer?”
Spencer hesitates with her answer, and the hope I felt earlier dwindles.
“Maybe,” she offers, giving a half-hearted answer to placate Eleanor. “I have a job opportunity that I’m hoping comes through. It’s based in Vancouver and would require more travel.”I lean my elbows on the table and rest my mouth against my fist, hoping it disguises any evidence of the disappointment I’m feeling. I’ve been actively trying to avoid thinking about Spencer leaving. Just focus on the positive, focus on the plan.
“Too bad, we could really use someone like you here. The tourism board has absolutely adored what you’ve done so far, the posts you’ve shared of Heartwood are incredible. We’ve already seen an uptick in people wanting to visit. Rosie said that her inn has more guests calling about booking and she hasn’t even opened the place yet.”
“Well, it’s not me, Eleanor. Heartwood really has a lot to offer. I’m just showing people that.” Spencer deflects the compliment, and it pisses me off how humble she is when she is always the most incredible woman in the room.
“Don’t sell yourself short, Spencer,” I cut in. My tone comes out more gruff than I anticipated, but I’ve made a point up until now not to let those kinds of comments from her slide. “I’ve seen the photos that you’ve taken around town and the way you captured the essence of it, it’s amazing. You have a talent for it, for seeing the things that make a place special and allowing other people to see it, too.”
“Thanks, Grady,” Spencer says, her eyes lingering on me for a beat before looking down at her plate of half-eaten pasta. For the last few minutes, all she’s done is push the noodles around without taking a bite.
Eleanor covers her mouth and swallows her bite of food before speaking.
“I would love to see what you’ve prepared for the tourism board. You did bring your presentation with you, right?” Spencer nods in response.
“It’s not quite ready yet though …” Her voice trails off. I don’t know where this side of Spencer has come from, and I hate it. The woman who exudes confidence in every other area of her life, has suddenly shrunk herself at the mention of something she has every right to be proud of—her knowledge, her expertise.
“I’m sure it’s wonderful,” Eleanor decides. When Spencer only replies with a shrug, Eleanor says, “That’s settled. After dinner, we’ll clear the plates, and you can show us all what you’ve done.”
Spencer has suddenly gone a cute shade of green, but she nods silently and finishes her food without another word. I use the lull to shift the conversation to the reason that I really came, although now I’m not so sure of my motivations. I’m more than happy to just have an opportunity to be out with Spencer in a capacity that is more than friends-with-benefits.
“Spencer really has highlighted all the best parts of Heartwood,” I say, twirling some noodles around my fork and trying to make the segue sound natural. Three pairs of eyes land on me and my palms sweat, my fork becoming slippery in my grasp. They’re all waiting for me to elaborate, so I come out with it. “It would be such a shame if the town were to change.”
“Why would it change?” Eleanor shoots me a quizzical stare.
“You know, with the law that Carter Bouchard is trying to overturn. The one that prevents big chain stores from setting up shop here.”
“Oh, that.” Eleanor takes a long sip of her wine, a gulp more like. “That seems like a done deal, as much as I hate it, too,” she admits.
“It’s not a done deal though, not until the council meeting,” I remind her.
“If Jodi is offering the other council members ‘incentives’ to vote in favour of overturning it like she did for the tourism board, then I’d say the decision has been made. I don’t think the other councillors have as much integrity as I do, but who knows? I can smell a bribe from a mile away.” Eleanor shoves a forkful of pasta in her mouth as if she didn’t just drop a bomb. Bribing the council? How the fuck am I supposed to make anything happen in this town when she’s got them all eating out of the palm of her hand?
“You’re not planning on fighting it, are you?” Marko pipes up. I almost forgot he was here.I shake myself out of my thoughts, as all-consuming as they are right now.
“Sure am,”I answer, though my resolve is waning now.
“Good for you, son. Someone needs to. It would be a damned shame if they let this happen. Heartwood would never be the same.”Validation settles over me, calming me a little. If Marko feels this way, surely other people do, too.
“Thank you, sir. Spencer is going to make sure I have the best shot possible at the council meeting.”I lean back in my chair and place a hand between her shoulder blades. She doesn’t recoil the way I expect her to, given the fact that I just broke my promise to limit the PDA.
“Just don’t give yourself false hope, Grady. I know how the council members are, and once they see dollar signs, which Carter has a lot of, they don’t tend to budge no matter how hard someone tries.”Eleanor casually picks up her napkin and dabs her mouth, even though there was nothing on her face.
“At this point, I don’t care. Someone has to try. And the only person I see willing to do it is me,” I say.
“It is nice to see you so passionate about this. It’s been a very long time since you’ve been this fired up about anything,” she says. I give a slight nod in agreement, but I keep the thought to myself that my newfound passion is thanks to the gorgeous redhead sitting next to me. “Regardless of how it all turns out, Grady, you have my support at the council meeting.” A feeling buzzes within me, from my solar plexus all the way down to my fingertips. Hope. I stifle it just a little, for now. Eleanor is just one of the council members, and although it will help immensely to have her on my side, the battle is far from won.
“I appreciate it, Eleanor. More than you know.” I hold my glass up towards her, and she clinks hers against it, toasting our newly formed alliance.
We finish up dinner, and I stand to help Marko clear the plates, taking mine and Spencer’s over to the sink. The plates clatter together when I drop them in the soapy water, but I still hear Eleanor say something to Spencer in time to turn around and catch a flush blooming behind the freckles on her cheeks. Marko thanks me for clearing the plates, but I barely hear him, my ears trained on the conversation happening at the table. I just make out Eleanor’s hushed words, something about how natural Spencer and I look together, how she can tell that we’re made for one another. I could tell her that all day, how I think she was made for me. It’s just Spencer that needs convincing now.
Spencer changes the subject, diverting the conversation away from me, us, and she gets up to fetch her laptop from her bag at the front door.
Once we’re all seated again, she opens it up and turns it so her presentation is facing Eleanor across the table from her. She starts flicking through photos of Heartwood. They’re all familiar places, but the way Spencer has photographed them shows them from a new perspective.
“This is the version of Heartwood that the tourism board should sell. Highlight the locals, the lesser-known places, the corners of the community that make you feel like you’re home, like everyone here is family.” As Spencer speaks the words, she’s taking them right out of my mouth, right out of my heart.
Eleanor reaches a hand across the table and places it on Spencer’s arm.
“Spencer, this is beautiful. You truly did capture the essence of our little town, and I speak for the whole tourism board when I say that we are so grateful. I will present this to the board at our next meeting. I think they’ll be very pleased with the new direction for marketing.” Eleanor’s face suddenly brightens, and she clasps her hands together. “On that note, we should have dessert.”
As she says it, everyone at the table jumps at the sound of a clatter in the kitchen, followed by loud, wet, slurping noises behind the kitchen island.
“Wallace, no !” Marko jumps up and runs to the kitchen, shooing the Great Dane out. He sulks off towards the living room and makes himself comfortable on his cushion in the corner, licking his jowls with loud smacking sounds. The three of us round the counter hesitantly, and collectively cringe as we take in the pile of pastry on the floor.
“My pie! My pie is ruined!” Eleanor shrieks when she sees the dessert lying crumbled on the floor, the blueberry filling oozing out of the crust onto the tile. A good portion of it is missing now thanks to Wallace. Eleanor covers her face with her hands. “It’s ruined. It’s done.”
“It’s not that bad, honey. I’m sure we can salvage some of it,” Marko offers, clearly trying to help. Sorry, Marko. You’re on your own. There’s no way I’m eating that, not even to console Eleanor.
“We can’t serve this,” she says. Spencer lets out an audible sigh of relief at the decision, and I mirror the sentiment. I’m not about to sit here pretending to enjoy floor pie. “I’m so sorry.” She turns, apologizing to Spencer and me.
“It’s okay, Eleanor. I’m already stuffed from the delicious dinner,” I say, trying to come up with something to make her feel better.
“I’m just so embarrassed. I really had this evening all planned out. It was going to be perfect.”
“It was perfect,” Spencer chimes in. “I think Grady and I should go, we don’t want to get in the way of the clean-up.” We both watch with no small amount of horror as Marko tries to scoop the pie off the floor with his hands, the filling spilling out of his fingers across the floor, making the whole situation worse.
“Okay,” she replies, her voice a bit dejected.
“Thank you for a lovely dinner.” I lean in to give her a peck on the cheek. “I’ll come and visit more often, I promise.”
The corners of her downturned mouth lift slightly at that.
“I’ll hold you to that, Grady. Don’t make me hear about your engagement or something through Winnie.”
Spencer and I exchange a brief glance, before saying goodbye and seeing ourselves out. She is the first to mention the comment as we get back into the car.
“Our engagement ? What did you say to her when I wasn’t listening?”Spencer turns in the passenger seat to face me, the light from the streetlight outside casting shadows across her face.
“Nothing, I swear.” I throw my hands up in a show of innocence, but I can’t hold back my grin. “Just that I’m in love with you, and I’m fairly certain that I’ve been in love with you since the moment I saw you.”
Spencer throws her head back and laughs, and the sound is almost melodic. I could die a happy man if that was a sound I heard every day for the rest of my life. She laughs, and I don’t care that what I said was not a joke, because I just love hearing it.
“I actually feel really bad for her,” I say, making the turn off Eleanor and Marko’s street, onto the one that leads into town.
“Me too. But you have to admit, it was pretty fucking hilarious. Wallace had his fill of that pie.” Spencer chuckles, and I can’t help but laugh, thinking about the manic slurping sounds coming from the kitchen as if Wallace was trying to eat as much as he could as fast as physically possible before someone found him.
“Yeah, dude won the fucking jackpot,” I answer, a comfortable silence falling between us as Spencer’s laughter trails off. “Thank you for coming up with an excuse to get out of there. I thought for sure that Marko was going to make us all sit down and eat it off the floor.”
“I mean, that pie looked so good, I was almost tempted. I was eyeing it on the counter all through dinner.”
I flick on my turn signal and veer off the main road.
“Where are you going?” Spencer asks, but I’ve already turned down the alley behind the bar. It’ll be packed tonight, and I don’t exactly want to socialize with anyone.
“You wanted dessert, so I’m getting you dessert.” I throw the car into park and hop out of the car, making my way around and opening the passenger side door. Spencer is looking at me as if she’s trying to decide whether or not it’s safe, like I’m a serial killer leading her into a dark alley. “Come on. It’s just dessert.”
“Fine. Just dessert. And only because I’m still fantasizing about that pie.”
“Well, I have something better than floor pie.” I take her hand, helping her out, and lead her through the back door into the bustling kitchen of the Whisky Jack.
I was right, the place is jammed, and the din of the crowd floats through to the kitchen every time the door swings open. Rather than taking Spencer out into the fray, in front of prying eyes, I lead her through the kitchen in the opposite direction and into the quiet of my office. The office I set up but hardly use, other than to do the bookkeeping once a week or so.
It’s small, only room for a desk and a couple chairs. She sits and I lift a hand in a stay right there motion before going out to get my latest creation from the big industrial fridge. Thankfully, the cheesecake is still intact, and Finn and Doug haven’t dug into it for themselves.
When I get back, I set down the plate of cheesecake and offer Spencer one of the two forks I’m carrying. She’s looking around the office, taking it in, before she looks back at me and says, “Wow, nice place you got here. How much does something like this go for, anyway?”
My mouth quirks up to one side.
“An arm and a leg,” I answer. “It’s great for folks who work from home. The whole space doubles as an office.”
“Wow. Incredible deal.”
“How long were you waiting to make that joke?”
“Pretty much since you left to get the”—She looks at the plate I’ve set down in front of her—“cheesecake.”
I laugh, a full belly laugh, and Spencer joins me. My favourite sound in the whole world. I shut the door behind me, and the clattering noises and chatter from the kitchen are muffled, so it’s just her and I in my office that is the size of a pantry. I take the seat next to her as she takes a bite of the cheesecake and stares back at me wide-eyed.
“Holy shit, this is like, better than sex,” Spencer says, her words garbled by the cake in her mouth.
“Is it better than sex though?” I ask. “Clearly, you haven’t been having the right kind of sex.”
“I’ve been having sex with you, haven’t I?”
“Fair point. Well then, I’m obviously not doing enough to satisfy you.”
“You do plenty to satisfy me.” Her eyes meet mine and hold onto my gaze for a beat before she adds, “This cake is just really fucking good.”I glance up at her as I pick a piece up onto my fork. I would cook for Spencer every day, so I can get the satisfaction I feel right now. Making her happy is addicting.
“It’s a brown sugar bourbon cheesecake. I thought it would be a good addition to the new menu. Like a play on the Whisky thing.”
“It’s amazing.”She shoves another bite into her mouth, and the room is quiet again except for the sound of her chewing.
“Hey, so you really went along with the whole date ruse tonight,” I say, pointing my fork at her and closing one eye to focus on her at the end of it.
“I didn’t want it to seem like I didn’t want to be there with you. I know you need to make a good impression and whatnot,” Spencer says, swallowing hard. Is she nervous? Sometimes it’s hard to tell with Spencer. She keeps her emotions under tight control. “And I kind of enjoyed being on a date with you. Even if it wasn’t technically real, it felt like you had my back. I don’t know if you could tell, but I was super anxious about that presentation.”
“Yeah, I could. But only because I know you. I don’t think Eleanor would have noticed,” I reassure her. “I didn’t know that you were supposed to give a presentation.”
“I wasn’t when she initially invited me. It was a last-minute thing she asked me to do. I threw it together. I’m not the best at formal presentations or sounding smart or eloquent. I’ve never had to do anything like that.”
“Well, you knocked it out of the park. Really. I think Eleanor loved it. I loved it.”
“See, that’s what I mean,” she says, setting down her fork and placing her hands in her lap. Her green eyes are piercing right through me. “That’s what you do.”
“What?”
“You believe in me. You cheer me on, root for me. Why do you do that?”
“Why wouldn’t I do that, Spencer?” The answer to her question is so simple. There’s nothing that Spencer can’t do, I firmly believe that.
“Because I don’t always believe in myself. I’ve always been told that as long as I’m pretty, I don’t have to be smart.”
“Who the fuck told you that?”I snap in a way that doesn’t sound like me, but I don’t care. It’s the stupidest fucking advice I’ve ever heard. Not because Spencer isn’t pretty, not because she isn’t smart, but because she is both of those things and so much more.
“My mother. She’s like Jennifer Coolidge in A Cinderella Story .”
“I’m not following.”
“ A Cinderella Story ?” She pauses and waits as if repeating the name of a movie I’ve never even heard of will jog my memory. “I guess you probably haven’t seen it. Jennifer Coolidge is the evil stepmother, and she tells Hilary Duff that she’s not very pretty and not very bright while she’s baking in the sun with tanning goggles on. That’s my mother.”
“Ah. Well, that’s simply not true. You are bright, Spencer. In so many ways.”
“I never went to university. Now that’s costing me job opportunities, as you are aware.” Spencer’s beautiful green eyes roll as she takes another bite of cheesecake.
“So? When have you ever let that stop you? You have single-handedly gone out there and gotten everything you ever wanted. You dreamt of travelling as a little girl, look at you. You did that. You got paid to do it. You hit an obstacle, not having PR experience, and you found a way around that. Not very many people can do what you do.”
Spencer doesn’t answer me, because her phone has started ringing, and she’s fishing it out of her purse.
“Hey,” she answers, and mouths it’s Ally to me. “What the fuck? Why?”
Spencer pales as a look of pure shock and panic washes over her face. She finishes the conversation with a frantic “I’ll be right there” and hangs up.
“Speaking of Jennifer Coolidge. My mother is here.”