Chapter 6 Accusations
Accusations
Amy’s anger propelled her to fill Mountain Coffee cups at warp speed.
The steamy brew was a metaphor for what was going on inside her gut.
She glanced over at her sole helper, glassy-eyed Cade, who stared at her from where he stood opening sleeves of biodegradable cups.
He was going at the rate of a land turtle … or a hungover twenty-one-year-old.
“You want me to fill some of those? Or …?” He looked lost. Stoned. Stunned by Micky’s rant like she was, only Cade was paralyzed while Amy was taking out her aggravation on the damn coffee cups. She squeezed one a little too hard, crushing it, and had to chuck it.
“No, I got this,” she said through clenched teeth. In his condition, he’d probably spill half of it anyway. He’d been asleep at the wheel most of the morning, after what was no doubt a night experimenting with how much liquor his young body could metabolize.
Don’t take it out on him. He didn’t do anything wrong, and he’s not the reason you’re mad.
No, all her frustration could be focused on the guy who, instead of offering to help out, had hissed at her about talking to Shane, demanding to know what they’d talked about, how much of his “private business” she’d spilled.
“Private business like what?” she’d retorted under her breath.
She’d been trying to bring down the volume and the tone of the conversation that had come at her out of nowhere, praying during the entire exchange that the surrounding crowd wouldn’t hear Micky’s ridiculous allegations.
“I have no idea what your secrets are, Micky, because you don’t share them with me.
So even if I wanted to ‘spill,’ I couldn’t. ”
“You’re fucking him, aren’t you?”
She’d nearly dropped two full cups of coffee. “If this is a joke, it’s not funny.”
“I see how you look at him.”
“Oh, that’s rich coming from you.” Micky blatantly eyeballed and chatted up any female who crossed his path, whether Amy was standing next to him or not. They’d had plenty of arguments over the disrespect he routinely showed them and her.
“And how is it that I look at him?” she’d muttered against her better judgment.
“Like you can’t wait to get on your knees and suck his dick,” he’d sneered.
Instead of dropping the hot coffee, she’d nearly thrown it in his face.
She couldn’t remember her exact words, but that’s when she’d told him to leave.
Thank Gaia above he had because Amy wasn’t sure what she would have done if he’d kept spewing his filthy accusations at her. Murder might have been on the menu.
Right now, she was trying to slow her riotous pulse by telling herself the universe had just sent her a howler that screamed at her to get the hell out of the relationship. Leaving him is the right thing to do. Any doubts I had just got erased by that humiliating display.
When she got her breathing under control, she looked up. Cade gave her a watery smile, and she absently wondered if he’d found his upper limit last night; he reeked of the alcohol oozing from his pores. Oh, to be twenty-one and naive again.
Besides accusing Amy of lusting after Shane, Micky had berated her for socializing too much.
She’d reminded him that a business owner should socialize with her patrons.
Shane and Reece were two of her best customers, and besides, Reece’s news was big.
And it wasn’t as if she’d been “slacking” because Shane had stepped up and handed out coffees on her behalf the entire time they stood together—while working a shift, for Gaia’s sake.
He’d noticed Amy’s load and immediately helped without being asked.
Then again, that was Shane, so of course he did.
Thinking of his cool-headed demeanor helped calm her own, especially as she recalled the warm amusement playing in his soft brown eyes.
No, that description sounded too bland. His eyes were more like tiger’s-eye gemstones with a whisper of deep emerald when the light hit just right.
Gah! Where did that come from?
Was Micky right? Was she lusting after the deputy?
Wait. Everyone thought Shane had striking eyes, right?
Hadn’t she overheard his many admirers discuss their color—among his other fine attributes—in her coffee shop or the rec center or one of the other stores?
Sure she had. She hadn’t come up with this fanciful description on her own.
Okay, now she was really losing it. Focus on what you’re doing before you burn yourself, dummy. She slid another paper cup from its stack, stuck it under the spigot, and pulled the little black handle. Repeated the motion. Over and over.
Had she let herself fall for the wrong man?
Then again, Shane had never shown any interest in her.
Would she have gone out with him if he had asked?
Now you’re hallucinating, girlfriend. He never would have asked you out.
Why couldn’t Micky be as helpful as Shane?
He could have been walking around with a tray of his own or handing out java back at the tent or helping Cade fill more cups.
When she’d suggested just that, Micky had really gone off.
“You’re not paying me, and I’m not some coffee bitch you can order around.
This whole idea was stupid anyway! How the hell are you going to make any money if you’re handing out free shit? ”
When had he become such a jerk? Or had he always been one and she’d worn blinders?
No, he’d become more agitated lately, his fuse much shorter—ever since he’d asked her to put him on the deed to the Mountain Coffee building and she’d refused.
When she’d turned the tables and asked if he’d put her on the deed to his house, he’d balked, calling her a whole list of unflattering names and claiming she didn’t love him. Of course he had.
Yes, he’d definitely been spinning more out of control. Didn’t mean she had to put up with it, though. And she wasn’t going to.
As for her business, he didn’t get it. At.
All. Handing out coffee was a great marketing opportunity—kinda like handing out samples at Costco.
Even if he didn’t understand her logic, why didn’t he just simply roll up his sleeves and work by her side?
And why did he suddenly care about the health of her business anyway?
He’d never paid much attention to it before, except when it came to the cash he could swipe from her register.
Yeah, she knew about that too. She’d asked him if he was in financial trouble, and he’d gaslighted her.
“No idea what you’re talking about. You’re always making up stuff. ”
As today’s stinging rebuke sunk in, though, she began second-guessing herself. Had she screwed up by standing around talking to Shane and Reece instead of moving through the crowd?
No. Especially not after both men had commended her for her generosity. “You’re helping out SAR by keeping folks from developing frostbite in this brutal wind and cold,” Reece had kiddingly praised. Shane had agreed. She could freely admit she’d eaten it up.
It was also a chance to repay the residents of Fall River who’d supported her with their kindness and dollars these last many years.
Being a community-first member was always a no-brainer for Amy, especially now that she sat on the town council.
She’d been appointed, not elected, so she had to prove that the appointment—by Charlie Hunnicutt, no less—had been a wise one.
This was her time to showcase what she could do for Fall River, transplant or not.
Micky knew all of this because she’d confided her worries and doubts to him. He’d reacted with a grunt.
And now her pulse spiked again. Instead of being a helpmate today, he’d yelled at her! In front of a crowd! In front of Cade!
It doesn’t matter if handing out free coffee is a bad idea, or if I’m doing it for my own selfish aims. Micky has no right to dress me down like that, especially in front of my employee and my customers.
Hot coffee splashed, burning her hand. “Shit!”
“You okay?” Cade squeaked.
“Fine.” She glanced up and noticed Shane talking to Dixie.
He caught her eye and smiled that easy smile of his.
But even from here, she noted something akin to sympathy in his gaze.
He’d probably seen Micky chew her out. She should have been mortified, but her tattered psyche was soothed instead.
And holy Gaia, Shane did have beautiful eyes, even from a distance.
Intense yet kind at the same time, with the power to hold you in their beam and simultaneously melt your knees.
Whoa, weird. She quickly ducked her head, pulled in a cleansing breath, and smoothed her jerky movements.
Now’s not the time to dwell on hurts you can’t control and people you can’t have. Go to your happy place.
This was one of the most important events of the year, one everyone had turned out for, and she was here in the thick of it.
Even jerkface Bruno Keating was here, smiling along with the rest of the crowd, acting as if he was a Fall River insider.
Much as she wanted to, she couldn’t fault him for wanting a taste of the big moment, though.
No one wanted to be left out of the celebration.
Amy kept filling. The voices grew more animated as the train’s whistle grew louder and the clack-clacking of steel wheels on rails drew closer. The more the excitement ramped up, the more her anger dissolved. Her tray full, she hefted it, fighting to balance her load.
“Cade! Don’t just stand there!”
Amy whipped her head up to see Luanne, Cade’s mother, standing a few feet away, hands on her hips, foot tapping, her features furrowed with exasperation.
Luanne knew about the service industry—she was one of Noah’s waitstaff at the Miners Tavern.
She also did nails out of her home, and a myriad of other odd customer-service jobs to keep her kid and herself fed and clothed.
Cade, who stood at least six inches taller than his mom, flinched comically.
Luanne shot him one more warning glare, then dropped her pose and rushed to Amy’s side.
“I’m so sorry, Amy. I shouldn’t have let him go out last night.
Let me help you.” She glanced over her shoulder, and her tone sharpened once more.
“Well? Get your butt over here and get busy. Ms. Caufield isn’t paying you to just stand around and gawk. ”
“You heard your mother!” came a booming voice over the sound system.
Luanne looked up and blew a kiss to Aidan Mooney, the front man for the Celtic Knots.
Aidan also happened to be Luanne’s on-again, off-again boyfriend.
The relationship was on when he performed at Silver Summit or somewhere close, and off when he was back at his home base in Basalt, a four-hour drive from Fall River.
Cade’s face reddened, and he scowled but took the heavy tray from Amy. She thanked him, and he gave her a head bob and moved off toward the platform.
“I hope you don’t mind me interfering, Amy.” Luanne took over the assembly line of cups.
Amy sighed. “No, of course not.” Truthfully, she did mind, but only because she was embarrassed.
She should have been the one to bark at Cade.
What kind of businesswoman left reprimanding her staff to an employee’s mother, for Gaia’s sake?
But she’d used up all her fight on Micky.
Nonetheless, she owed Luanne her gratitude.
On her day off, the woman had jumped in to help her without being asked.
If only Amy could hire her. Between her handful of jobs and side gigs, Luanne’s schedule was already stretched to capacity, and then there was the inconvenient fact she was Cade’s mom.
Human Resources 101: Never hire family members at the same business.
Luanne grinned. “There now. With Cade’s load and these, you should have plenty to hand out to the people when they disembark.” She looked up toward the train. “Oh! Looks like our deputy has his hands full.”
Amy reacted with a snap of her head toward the platform where a curvy, dark-haired woman had him in a lip-lock, her arms wound around his neck like a boa constrictor. When the woman pulled back and gave the deputy a sultry smile, Amy caught a glimpse of her face. She looked familiar.
“Who’s that?” Amy hissed beside Luanne.
“That’s Estelle, Deputy O’Brien’s dirty little Chicago secret.” Luanne smirked, a salacious gleam in her eyes. “I guess she came for the Big Event—and for our deputy. Looks like he’s getting lucky tonight. I just hope she doesn’t steal him away from us.”
Without her permission, Amy’s heart wobbled and sank.
The woman grasped Shane’s face and pulled it to hers for another kiss.
This time, his big hands landed on her waist in a gesture that broadcast he’d had those hands on that waist before.
As their lips met, the train whistle let out a spine-decalcifying shriek, echoing the unwelcome wail deep inside Amy.