Chapter 17
I’ve had a lot of strange Christmases, but this one, hands freaking down, takes the cake.
The food is delicious, just like I figured it would be when I first got the invite from Riley earlier, but after what had happened at the coffee shop, I know that Katherine doesn’t trust me.
She and Mathew have been polite yet a tad cold.
And Ridge? Well, he won’t even look my way.
Ridge’s dog, Marlin, on the other hand, is going around the table, begging whoever he thinks he can get a table scrap from.
I must look like the weakest link because he’s been sitting at my feet for about ten minutes now, snorting in true Marlin fashion.
Every now and then, I reach down and scratch his head, but then he always ends up begging even more.
“So, Stella …” Katherine addresses me for the first time this entire dinner, and suddenly, I’m nervous.
She’s as intimidating as they come, even though she doesn’t try to be. She’s just … tough. Unlike myself, who could never thrive here.
“Yeah?” I say, wiping my mouth with my napkin before setting it down in front of me.
“Did your flight get rescheduled?”
“It did. I’m flying out on the twenty-seventh now.” I pause, not wanting her to think I’m purposely staying here a few extra days just to spend time with her boys. “That was the earliest they could do.”
“The storm made quite a mess of the airport.” Mathew finally speaks now. “Most grounded flights I’ve ever seen in Maine.”
“Yeah, it was pretty wild, that storm,” I answer politely and honestly.
“Well, I’m sorry that you weren’t able to get home for Christmas Day.” Katherine not only sounds genuinely sympathetic, but looks it too. “I’m sure you have friends and family who are missing you for the holidays. Maybe you can do a late celebration with them.”
Despite my best efforts, everything inside of me freezes because I don’t know how I’m going to respond to this. I open my mouth to throw something back—anything that’ll make her believe that I do have a family or loved ones.
Or a plant that loves me. Anyone. Anything.
Nothing comes out, and my cheeks begin to redden.
The more seconds that pass while I try to come up with something to say, the faster my heart beats in my chest. But before I can die of humiliation and fall under the table, Ridge’s deep voice cuts through the room sharply.
And even though I know he’s about to be an ass, I welcome it.
“Will that be before or after you take whatever it is you’ve dug up on our land to your dickhead boss?” Ridge’s voice isn’t loud right now, but it still rattles my bones. “What did you find anyway? We’re all dying to know.”
When I look into Ridge’s eyes, I can see the anger.
But I also feel a sense of something else.
Sympathy maybe? Pity perhaps? Maybe I’m crazy for thinking this way, but something inside me tells me that even though he’s angry and he wants all those answers, he was also trying to save me from answering his mom.
Because after we went to the tree farm and he found out a bit about why I didn’t celebrate Christmas, I’m sure he knows that no one is waiting for me back home.
“Ridge, cut the shit,” Riley warns him.
“Wait, what?” Easton looks around the table. “What is he talking about?”
As much as I hate to admit it, I’d rather have them all look at me like I’m an awful human and scream at me about business-related shit than talk about Christmas and why I hate it as much as I do.
While everyone else demands answers, Tucker, per usual, says nothing. He just sits in his seat, observing his family. But when I look at him, even he looks at me kind of weird instead of his bashful self.
Even he sees through my bullshit now.
“What the hell is going on?” Easton keeps a fork in his fingers, pressed against the plate of food that I think is his third, but his eyes sweep the table intensely.
“Yeah, someone fill us in.” Tucker’s voice is stern and angry. “What the hell did she do?”
Out of all of them being mad at me, for some reason, Tucker hits me the hardest. Which makes no sense because I haven’t spent any time with him.
Hell, I’ve only heard his voice a few times, and he’s never actually spoken to me.
But during the times when Ridge was being an ass, I’d always look across the table and find Tucker’s face with absolutely no judgment on it. Now, it quite possibly holds the most.
Katherine’s face flashes with sympathy, but she sighs. “Perhaps you should just take the floor, Stella,” she whispers. “That way … it’s all out there.”
Before I even answer, Mathew is reaching in front of me, filling my glass with wine. When my eyes meet his, he gives me a subtle nod of reassurance. I don’t know why on earth he’d help me out right now, but for whatever reason, he is.
Taking the glass, I take a long swig, hoping it’ll settle my nerves. When that doesn’t happen, I realize I’m on my own here. Every single person at this table deserves to know the truth—just how shady of a person the man I work for can be.
“When I was sent here to talk to you all, I was told you owned a large amount of waterfront property, and we had big plans for it if we could get you to sell,” I say honestly and evenly.
“Not long after I arrived, I learned that I’d have better luck winning the Powerball than I ever would at convincing this family to part with their land—no matter what the number on the check was. ”
My eyes find Ridge’s, and I can tell he’s hanging on my every word. His eyes aren’t angry, but inquisitive.
“The other day, I informed my boss that it was time to look at other properties, that this was a dead end. With my whole entire heart, I know this land means everything to you all, and I knew I needed to give up any idea or fantasy I had of closing this deal for Ironbound.” I sigh, cringing.
“And let’s just say, my boss didn’t want to hear that.
” I chew my lip, looking down at my plate.
“From the time his spoiled ass came into this world, Victor Johnson has never been told no, and when I told him my thoughts, he started to talk crazy and say things that indicated he believed he could find a loophole to get your land.”
“Loophole?” Easton says. “What kind of loophole?”
My eyes move to Mr. Adams. “He thinks that with an oceanfront property so large, at some point, something wasn’t done legitimately. He really thinks that if we dig up enough dirt, we’ll find something shady.”
I don’t know what I expect him to do. Flinch maybe? Because in my experience, everyone has something to hide. And perfect families like this one are often not as flawless as they may seem. But instead of looking uncomfortable or shifting in his seat, Mathew looks … relaxed.
“He can dig all he wants. He isn’t going to find anything.” He lifts his fork, taking a bite of casserole. “That’s damn good, hon.”
“Mathew,” Katherine scolds him, “didn’t you hear what she said? How can you be so sure?”
He takes a sip of his drink before setting the glass back down on the wood table. “Because I’m not stupid. I knew the day would come when some asshole showed up, trying to take what was ours.” He stops, waving his hand toward me. “Not you, Stella. You’re not the asshole.”
“She kind of is,” Ridge utters, earning him a glare from both of his parents.
“Anyway, we have nothing to worry about.” He shrugs. “So, you can all calm the hell down and enjoy Christmas.”
My eyes stay on him. “You’re sure?” I whisper. I swear to God, I feel like I could cry tears of relief right now. “Because I’m telling you, he’s ruthless. So is his dad.”
Setting his fork down, he wipes his mouth. “Stella, this land is the most important thing to this family, besides each other. So, yes, I’m sure there is absolutely nothing about the land or us that your scumbag piece-of-shit boss is going to dig up.”
It takes a moment to digest, but eventually, I sigh in relief.
Ever since my phone call that day with Victor, I’ve been sick to my stomach, thinking that something was going to happen to this land.
Before I met this family, maybe I wouldn’t have cared.
But now? I can’t even fathom it because they are all genuine, good people.
I suppose I should never have assumed that they ever did anything shady to get this land because that’s not who they are. This family has values and integrity.
Unlike my boss.
The celebration in my head is short-lived because, of course, Ridge is instantly back to firing questions my way. He hasn’t trusted me since I landed here. So, why on earth would he start now?
“And were you a part of it?” He swallows. “The digging to find something that would hopefully put us in hot water or take us out?”
“Absolutely not,” I tell him truthfully, not faltering for a split second.
“Victor thinks I’m still here in Maine, trying to get you to sell.
But the truth is, I stopped trying to get you to sell basically the night I came here for dinner the first time.
” I nervously run my finger up and down the chilled glass, not looking at Ridge or anyone else.
“I stopped wanting you to sell out not long after that too.”
My eyes skim the table for a moment, and I find everyone is seemingly satisfied with my answer. But while everyone else seems to relax and go on talking about something else, Ridge’s eyes stay on mine. But there’s not anger in them anymore.
No, it’s something else. Something I can read like a book when it comes to him because it’s exactly how he looked at me that night in his kitchen—moments before he had my legs spread wide while I lay back on his countertop.
The look in his eyes? It’s need. Desperate, agonizing need.
And I recognize it instantly because it’s exactly what I’m feeling too.