Chapter 5
5
MIKA
I t’s a nice night for a walk.
To tell the truth, I don’t remember the last time I even took one. For the last while, I’ve been a Bruno’s waitress by day and manager of the inn by night. The rest of my time is spent sleeping, eating, or panicking over bills. Sometimes all three at once.
I lead him south along Main Street, taking him toward the center of town. The town square comes into view, the central gazebo prominent and well-lit, shining lights on the streets surrounding it. The shops and businesses are closed, their lights off and doors secured. Not a soul in sight.
Except Carter.
And me.
“What’s this place like in-season?” Carter asks.
“Much more lively,” I answer. “There’s special town events almost every night, so everything stays open late. At the inn, we have paddle boats so guests can take them out on the lake to sit out under the stars.” I smile wider. “Every year, someone gets engaged on the lake during Fourth of July fireworks. It’s cheesy, but… it’s actually kinda nice. It’s a good time.”
I look at him, admiring his smile as we walk, then quickly look away before he notices.
“So, what do you do?” I ask.
“What do I do?”
“You said today was the most important day of your career. I’m just curious. What do you do?”
“I am a consultant,” he answers. “I work in mergers and acquisitions for private equity firms.”
I blink twice, and he laughs.
“Basically, I tell rich people with more money than they know what to do with, what to do with their money.”
“That’s a job?”
“That’s a job.”
“I serve burgers for tips. You’re telling me I could just tell rich guys how to spend their money and they’ll pay me for it?”
“Yup,” he says.
“Damn. Where did I go wrong?”
Carter laughs. “There’s a little more to it than that.”
“I figured.”
“Mostly, it’s travel. They come to me with a building or a type of property they want to acquire. Then, I go to it or I find one like it that would suit their needs and I determine what it’s worth. Sometimes, if they don’t like that number, I’ll do some digging and find ways to lower it.”
“Lower it how?” I ask.
Carter pauses, as if he doesn’t want to answer. “Every place is different,” he says.
I note the change in his tone and decide to swallow my follow-up questions. “Getting to travel sounds nice, though.”
“I do like the travel,” Carter says. “Every day is a new place, sometimes a new climate. No sunrise is ever the same.”
“Where are you from originally?” I ask.
“Upstate New York. But I haven’t been back there in... five years? I barely even remember my permanent address anymore, come to think.”
“You sound like a hard guy to get a hold of,” I joke.
He chuckles. “Been talking to my mother, have you?”
I laugh. “Why don’t you ever go back?” Then I shake my head. “Actually, that might be too personal of a question. Sorry I asked.”
“No, no,” Carter says. “It’s not. There’s no horrible reason for it. I just...” He pauses for a moment. “It never felt like home to me. I grew up there, sure, but I’ve always had a feeling that I’m meant to be somewhere else. I just have to find it first.”
I nod. “All the travel is good for you, then.”
“Right,” he says. “That meeting today in Big City — if it went well — was supposed to set me up for a while.”
“In Small Town?”
“No, Big City probably. Some billionaire up there wants to expand his portfolio. That usually means I’ve got my work cut out for me for a few months, at least.”
“Well, the waitresses of Bruno’s Diner will be absolutely devastated.”
He laughs. “I doubt I’m supposed to end up here.”
“Who knows? Maybe your car was always meant to break down here.”
Carter shakes his head, but doesn’t reply.
We sink into a comfortable silence as we round the square. I point down the roads, noting landmarks and buildings. The public library. The high school. Carter listens and watches with tepid fascination, with smiles and clever jokes when needed.
When we swing back to the inn, he points at the house next door. “Is that part of the inn?” he asks.
“Not technically,” I answer. “That’s my father’s house. It’s where I grew up.”
“It’s nice.”
“Made for an interesting childhood, that’s for sure.”
Carter points again, this time down the path that wraps around the lawn. “And that goes to the lake?” he asks.
“Yeah,” I say. “It’s a little overgrown at the moment, because...” I bite my tongue. “Well, we’re off-season. But it’ll be cleaned up by summer.”
Without a word, Carter starts down the path.
I follow him. He takes out his phone as we walk, turning on the flashlight to illuminate our path, and I do the same. Within a few minutes, we reach the boathouse, where we store the paddle boats and other summer swimming gear. Beyond that is the dock that stretches out into Deep Lake.
Carter walks to the end of the dock and stands there, his eyes on Tall Mountain on the northeastern side of the lake. I take in the view myself, admiring the bright moon shining on the water. The lake extends a long way, and I point out the small lights of Camp Deep Lake on the eastern coast. On the clearest nights, one can see the lights of Big City and Pleasant Place toward the west, if you squint hard enough.
I tell him all of that. He doesn’t say a word.
“Carter?” I ask. “Are you okay?”
“Uh...” He straightens up, shaking off whatever trance he was in, and nods. “Yeah. I’m fine. It’s… it’s really nice. You have a nice home here.”
“Thanks.”
“I can, uh... I can see why people come.”
“It has its charm.”
“Yeah.”
We don’t linger much longer. We head back to the inn, our phones lighting our path.
“Did you enjoy your tour?” I ask once we’re back inside.
“Actually, yes,” Carter says. “I did.”
“Good.” I stop at the desk to check for messages or signs that someone has come by in my absence, but everything is where it should be. “That’ll be nineteen ninety-five.”
He laughs. “Tack it onto my bill.”
“I’ll make a note.” As I turn back around, I find him lingering close behind me. “Well, thanks for dragging me along. Felt good to stretch a bit.”
“You’re welcome,” he says, his eyes the softest blue. “I had fun.”
“Me, too.”
“You want to come upstairs? Have a drink with me?”
“Oh, uh...” His eyes drift toward my lips, and I instinctively press mine together. “Actually, those mini champagne bottles in the welcome baskets are non-alcoholic, so...”
The words dissolve in my mouth. I’m not even sure what I was trying to say in the first place. But Carter doesn’t seem to notice nor care as he looks at me, his head tilting slightly.
My heart stalls. “I’m not sure I shou?—”
Carter leans down and kisses me on the lips. I saw it coming; I felt it happening, and yet, it still takes me by surprise. His soft lips cradle mine, willing them to part, and I feel myself wanting to kiss him back. A warmth surges throughout my body, igniting my skin as his hand comes to my cheek.
He kisses me again, deeper still, and every neglected part of me quivers with need.
How long has it been since a man has kissed me like this?
Never, I think to myself.
No man has ever kissed me like this.
“Mika,” Carter whispers as he kisses the edge of my cheek. “Come upstairs with me.”
Before I can answer, he kisses me again, his mouth enveloping mine. And I… I…
Fear trembles in the depths of my stomach.
“Carter,” I say, resting a hand on his chest. “I... I’m not that kind of girl.”
He opens his eyes as he tilts back. “Oh,” he says, his hand falling from my cheek. “Well, I’m... definitely that kind of guy.”
“I’m sorry.”
“No, it’s my fault.” He takes a step back. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking.”
“It’s okay.” I step back, too. I push my hair behind my ears and look down, feeling all my blood rushing to my cheeks. “So, I still have some work to do here tonight, so I’m just gonna?—”
“Right.” Carter starts toward the stairs. “I’ll head up to my room.”
“Big meeting in Big City tomorrow, right?”
He pauses for a moment, then nods. “Yeah. Goodnight, Mika.”
“Goodnight, Carter.”
We both move, extending the gap between us. I step behind my desk, pretending not to count every single tap of his shoes on the stairwell all the way up.
I exhale all the air from my lungs, feeling an ache in my heart I’ve never felt before.