Chapter 16 Beck
BECK
I walked back into chaos. Inside town hall, everyone was yelling and no one was listening. I slunk along the wall and returned to my seat next to Everleigh. Her hands sat relaxed in her lap and her lips were turned up in amusement.
Mrs. K stood on a chair and Donnie stuck his fingers in his mouth to blow an ear-piercing whistle that shut everyone up. "I've lived in this town for eighty-two years," Mrs. K yelled. "You can take your fancy proposal and shove it."
The church ladies clapped and some raised their fists in the air. Mouser white-knuckled the edges of the podium, trying to look like he still had control. "If everyone would just settle down, we can discuss the—"
"There's nothing to talk about!" Donnie stood on the chair next to Mrs. K. "You're not touching our rink."
I should have stood up for my people. Instead, I sat there like an idiot as Mouser ruined everything I'd built that month. My cheek stung, and that was the only part of me that felt alive.
Mayor Mavis banged her gavel until the room quieted down. "You had your chance to voice your opinion, but instead you acted like buffoons. This matter will be on the next council agenda to be decided by your elected representatives."
Rob clapped and shook Mouser's hand.
Mavis gave one more bang of her gavel. "Meeting adjourned. Thank god," she muttered the last part under her breath.
Mouser packed his briefcase. "Good work, Shepherd. We've got a meeting scheduled for tomorrow morning at my suite. Eight a.m. sharp." He didn't wait for a response. He walked out with Rob right beside him.
The room slowly emptied and I found myself wishing for a secret exit. I'd have to wait until everyone left if I wanted to get out of the building unscathed. Maddie's dad shot me a look that made me want to crawl into a hole. The rest acted like I didn't exist.
When almost everyone was gone, Logan dropped into the chair next to me. He looked exhausted.
"What happened, Shep?"
I stared at the scuffed floor. "The clause was in there. Mouser must have cut it from the final version."
"I know. Charlotte showed it to me. Did you check the final doc?"
"I trusted them."
Logan shook his head. "You trusted the wrong people."
"I know. I'm going to fix it."
"How?" He turned to look at me. "You need to figure out whose side you're on. Until you do, stay away from the dressing room. Nobody wants you there right now."
I opened my mouth to argue, but he was already standing.
"I'm not saying it's forever," he said. "But right now, nobody in this town trusts a word out of your mouth. Including me."
I stayed in the building until the night cleaners started stacking chairs. As the metal legs clanged, I pulled out my phone and called Clara. It went straight to voicemail.
The ski hill's gondolas glinted in the rising sun as the colorful cabins whisked skiers up the mountain.
The village overlooked Chance Rapids, but it felt like it was a world away.
I thought I saw Evan and his daughter strolling to the lift in their ski boots, skis propped over their shoulders, but as I raised my hand to catch his attention, I realized he probably hated me too.
Mouser's room was on the top floor of the Sugar Peaks Suites. As he opened the door, I pushed past him into the room.
"Well, good morning to you, too," he said. He was in a hotel bathrobe, sipping a cup of black coffee.
"You rewrote the whole thing," I said. "You cut everything I promised them."
Mouser sipped his coffee. "I cleaned it up. Your charity clause was a liability we didn't need."
"I had authorization from William. You were the one who told me.” It dawned on me that perhaps Mouser hadn’t even spoken to Mr. King.
"Mr. King would've never gone for your plan. Get real, kid."
“So he didn't know about the programs?" My fists were clenched so tightly my arms shook. "Get him on the phone. Now."
"No." Mouser sat in a leather chair and crossed his skinny legs. The hotel's slipper dangled from his hairy toe. "It's your word against mine, Shepherd."
"You and Rob Cooper have a deal on the side. What's your cut?"
"Mr. Shepherd. Choose your next words wisely."
"I quit."
"You can't quit.” He cackled. "I was just about to fire you."
"Fuck you, Mouser. You're not going to get away with this." The heavy door slammed loud enough that a few curious faces popped into the hallway to investigate.
It was time to decide. I could put my tail between my legs and slink out of town, or I could fight for something I believed in. It was time to step into the version of Beck that was good enough for Clara and all the people in this town.
As I stormed to my car, my phone buzzed in my pocket. Even though I knew it wasn't Clara, I still hoped to see her name on the screen. Instead, it was Everleigh. I waited until I was in my car to read the text.
Meet me at 4521 Summit Ridge ASAP.
ASAP.
How dare she bark orders at me. I wasn't even a King employee anymore. Although, Summit Ridge was in the ski hill development. I'd have to drive right past it to get to town. Navigating the car towards Summit Ridge, I planned to tell the Ice Queen to fuck off right to her face.
One of the black Mercedes sat in the driveway next to a white Range Rover. A staff member opened the door before I could ring the bell. She put her finger to her lips. "Shhh. The baby is sleeping. Come this way."
The mansion was one of those "modern meets ski lodge" designs.
A river rock fireplace crackled, its chimney soaring to the thirty-foot high timber-framed ceilings.
A wall of windows framed the iconic Sugar Peak spire.
Skiers zoomed down a the ski run that passed right by the back door.
You could hop on your skis and be at The Fork restaurant in seconds.
Everleigh was on the couch in jeans and a sweater. Her eyes were ringed in dark circles. Charlotte O'Hare sat in the chair opposite Everleigh. "Hi, Beck." The kindness in her voice surprised me. Or was it pity?
"Sit down," Everleigh said.
"If you're here to fire me, Mouser already did it."
She raised her eyebrows. "Interesting. Now sit."
I wasn't a dog. "I'll stand."
She sighed. "Shepherd. I'm not the bad guy here. It was a total shit show last night, and I know it wasn't your fault. I want to know what happened to the proposal." She patted the sofa next to her. "I won't bite."
I sat down.
"Hard," she said. The sides of her lips turned up. "I've heard from Charlotte; now I want to hear it from you."
Charlotte nodded. I cleared my throat and started from the beginning. Everleigh listened without saying a word. When I finished, she stood and looked out the windows. The clock on the mantel ticked as I waited for her to say something, anything.
I looked to Charlotte. She smiled and gave me a thumbs up.
Everleigh examined her nails, then turned and put her hands on her hips. "My father trusts Mouser to handle the details. He doesn't like to be bothered with the small stuff." She paused. "Sometimes that's a mistake."
Everleigh sat next to me. "I wish you'd have come to me, Beck. I've stepped down from operations, but I still oversee my mother's charity."
"What charity is that?" Charlotte asked.
"I give scholarships to hockey players who can't afford equipment, ice time, coaching, you name it.
" Her voice rose, the Ice Queen showing emotion for the first time since I'd stepped inside the house.
"I love your girlfriend's skating program.
Hell, I'd fund the entire damn thing just to spite that bastard Mouser.
I can't believe he didn't bring this to me. "
"I don't think he brought it to your father either."
She shook her head. "He didn't."
Charlotte leaned in. "And don't forget that Rob Cooper's numbered company owns three parcels in the development zone. He stands to make millions if the deal goes through as it's written now. He and Mouser have been in it together since day one."
Everleigh's face remained still. She pulled out her phone and made a call. "Tell Mr. Mouser to come see me."
The person must have asked when. Everleigh let out an exasperated sigh. "Right. Fucking. Now."
I looked around. "Should I leave?"
Everleigh pulled a tube of red lipstick from her handbag, applied it, then rested her feet on the coffee table. "No, you'll want to see this."
Charlotte raised an eyebrow. The woman who answered the door brought in a tray of coffee and some shortbread cookies. "Help yourself." Everleigh draped her arms wide across the back of the sofa.
Neither of us moved. We sat in silence until the knock came. Mouser walked in, brushing snow off his coat. He saw me and froze. "What's he doing here?"
"Sit," Everleigh said. Her tone was deep. That "sit" was an order.
Mouser obeyed, but he still had a smug look on his face. "If this is about the meeting, the locals were always going to scream."
Everleigh pushed off from the sofa and sauntered toward Mouser. "Maybe it's your turn to scream."
"Excuse me?" Mouser's face turned as white as the sofa.
"What's my mother's name?"
The lawyer's head jerked back like he was avoiding a slap. "Gloria."
"Good." Everleigh perched on the footstool in front of Mouser. "And what charity did my mother start years ago?"
"The Sam Strand." His voice was barely a mumble.
Everleigh stood and loomed above him. "Oh, so you do know about my dead mother's charity. The one that I run. The one that helps out kids, just like the little girls practicing for their Wizard of Oz skating exhibition."
"Everleigh, it was a business decision," Mouser said. "The margins would have—"
She interrupted him. Her voice was low and even, and really damn unnerving. "You made a deal with a councilman who has a financial stake in our project. That's fraud, Sidney. Not business."
She paused to pour herself a cup of coffee. The only sound in the room was the ticking clock and the tinkling of the spoon as she stirred in the cream. Everleigh picked up a piece of shortbread and took a bite, chewing while beads of sweat formed on Mouser's forehead.
"Give me your car keys."
Mouser tilted his head, but produced the Mercedes fob. She plucked it from his hand and slipped it in the pocket of her jeans. "Legal will be in touch about your severance."
"William won't like this."
"Mr. King doesn't do fraud. You're fired. Get the fuck out of my house."
"What? How am I supposed to get back to the hotel? It's freezing outside."
"Why don't you call your friend Rob for a ride. Or maybe I can get you both a free trip in a black-and-white."
He inhaled, then stood. "This isn't the last you've heard of me."
Everleigh snorted. "Original. Feed me a line I haven't heard one hundred times before."
Mouser muttered under his breath the entire way to the front door. When the latch clicked behind him, Everleigh picked up the shortbread, finished it, and washed it down with some coffee.
She turned to me and sighed. "I'm sorry, Shepherd. Please accept my apologies on behalf of my father."
"First, I don't need an apology from you. Second, that was awesome. And third…” I held up a finger with each point, "I need to fix the mess I made."
"Then let's fix it."
After hours of planning with Charlotte and Everleigh, I went back to the Inn, but I couldn't relax.
I tried to call Clara and, again, it went straight to voicemail.
I paced the room. Outside my window, crews were piling snow into jumps on the street for the skijoring competition.
When the beeping from dump trucks reversing finally overwhelmed me, I got in my SUV and drove.
First, I crossed the railroad tracks and drove past my childhood trailer. The car that was on blocks when I was a kid was still there, covered in snow. Clara's trailer was empty and looked like it had severe fire damage. We had both come so far from those days.
When the sun set, I found myself on my way to the old Fallingbrook ranch property. By the time I reached Clara's cabin, twilight had given way to night. Her truck was in the driveway, but no lights were on inside. Dash started barking the second I stepped onto the porch.
I knocked. "Clara? It's me."
More barking.
"If you're in there, I know you're mad." I leaned my head against the door. "Please, Clara. I have so much to tell you."
Dash had stopped barking, but the house stayed dark. If she was home, she wasn't going to open the door.
I waited for ten minutes, but nothing changed. I found a receipt in my pocket and wrote a quick note on the back: I'm going to fix this. I'm not leaving. - B.S.
I wedged it into the doorframe and walked back to the car.