The Till
Jordy
Luckily, my car is fine. I throw my stilettos in the backseat then head back to the truck.
“I can take it from here,” I say. “Thanks for your help.” I start to close the door, but he stops me.
“You don’t even have a place to stay yet,” he points out. “Just wait there.”
I want to argue—I really do—but I watch as he does a U-Turn and then parks in front of The Till instead. The protesters are still there, but they stop when he gets out of the truck.
“Hey, Ash, how’s it going? Hanging in there?” One of the guys claps Ashton on the back as a woman puts her sign down to help get Lottie out of the car. For someone who said he was an outsider, he sure has a lot of friends. Does he not see how much this town likes him?
I pretend to scroll my phone when Ashton starts across the street, stroller in front of him. I look up as he approaches, noticing that the small crowd is watching him join me at my car.
“All right, where to first? The hotel to try again?”
By now the people are whispering amongst themselves, and I feel this tight ball form in the pit of my stomach.
“Forget them,” he murmurs, “they’re just thrilled to see something new to talk about.”
“Well, I’m pleased to be their entertainment, I suppose.”
But I do as he says, keeping my head held high, walking beside Ashton as he pushes Lottie in the stroller.
Third try is not the charm. Bernie takes one look at me and points at the hotel door. I recall bits and pieces of the night before, including Ashton at the counter, trying to talk some sense into her. But she didn’t budge then, and she won’t budge now.
“It’s fine,” I say as we leave. Normally I’d put up a fight. I’d tell Bernie what she could do with her Farah Fawcett hairstyle and paisley polyester blouse, and how her old hotel smells like cheese. But I’m tired. Defeated.
Alone.
I haven’t even started work yet, and I’m ready to leave this place.
The best thing I can do is get my work done and leave this hell hole, even if it means I have to sleep on the concrete floor of the vacant shop.
“I’ll find a place to stay in the next town over.
It’s not like this is the only place to stay. ” Even though I know it is.
So does he. Ashton pulls up his phone and searches out hotels, then shows me his screen. The nearest one is sixty-seven miles away.
“It’s fine,” I insist again. But it isn’t fine. None of this is fine. And before I can stop it, I feel the tears prickling my eyes. I quickly turn my head so he won’t see. “Thanks for everything, Ashton. You don’t have to babysit me anymore, though.”
I leave him standing in front of the hotel as I stalk toward The Till, soon to be Timeless.
I don’t break my stride as I plow through the small group of protesters out front.
“You all are on private property,” I hiss as I unlock the door.
“If you don’t vacate the premises immediately, I’ll call the authorities to haul you away. ”
“You mean Officer Ted?”
I glance at the lady who spoke, the same one who’d lifted Lottie out of her car seat. Bernie’s threats come back to me, including when she called this Ted guy to teach me a lesson.
“What, this whole town is on a first name basis with this officer?” I roll my eyes. “You all need to get a life.”
“Well, I have a life,” the woman says, then pulls her phone out. “With Officer Ted Shanigan, my husband. Should I get him on the phone for you so you can tell him to haul us away?”
The words sink in my stomach, my face growing hot as a few people snicker around me. Fucking incestual town. I turn away from her, feeling the weight of their laughter as I unlock the door and then close it behind me.
I’m afraid they’ll stay outside the shop, caging me into this fishbowl. But they disperse soon after, leaving me alone to start my work.
The thing is, my heart isn’t in it. Usually when I come into a blank slate like this, the ideas start pouring in faster than I can jot them down.
But this time, there’s nothing. I have a few preliminary ideas I’d sketched out with Alexander in his office before I’d left New York, but looking at the space now, I know there’s so much more potential.
My earlier ideas won’t do the light and architecture justice.
Maybe I’m in over my head. I thought I was made for designing spaces, but I’m still new to the business.
The biggest job I’ve had was designing Nina’s boutique in Sunset Bay, a project I’m still proud to have created.
Beyond that, I’ve had a few storefronts and several office spaces, including Alexander’s.
Apparently I’d impressed him enough that he was willing to fly me across the country to design this shop in a nowhere town.
But why choose Lahoma Springs? What’s his reasoning for introducing a luxury watch shop to a small town that thrives on family-owned businesses?
I pull out my phone and touch Alexander’s name on the screen, then put it on speakerphone.
“Hey sweetie, how’s it going? You’ve obviously been busy.”
The tightness in my chest increases at the unsolicited pet name. But I let the sweetie slide in favor of my confusion. “Busy? How so?”
“Well, there was that huge order you placed yesterday. Let me find it.”
I can hear him clicking on keys, along with talking to whoever is in his office. “Here it is. A charge for $13,517 at Charred. Is that one of those natural wood places that burn their etches into the art pieces? I love the direction you’re going.”
A cold chill washes over me as memories of my evening hit me with an icy blast. Mother. Fucker. I groan as I recall the moment I whipped my card out, paying for everyone’s meal. There must have been a hundred people in that place. Maybe more.
There’s no getting around this one. I could play it off, feeding into his assumption that I’d bought some fancy piece of furniture. At the end of the day, Alexander is so rich that he wouldn’t even notice what’s in this store or not.
I can’t bank on that, though. More than that, I hate lying. I’ve been lied to enough in my life, and I fucking hate liars.
“That was at a steak house, actually,” I say, then hold my breath.
He doesn’t speak for an eternity. Then he lets out a heavy breath.
“Was it a twenty-pound wagyu wrapped in gold foil?”
I’m going to be fired. I just know it.
But maybe that isn’t so bad. I can just go home, pack up my things, and move back in with my parents while I try to figure out what I’m doing with my life.
Just the thought of living with my mother again makes me shudder.
“No, not that. I got carried away.” My stomach sours at the thought of all those Manhattans, not to mention my coming admission. “Let’s just say that one thing led to another, and I told everyone that dinner was on me.”
“Everyone. As in…”
“As in everyone that was dining out last night at Charred.”
More silence. Then a low chuckle.
I don’t know what’s scarier. Alexander not saying a word, or Alexander feigning amusement before he rakes me over the coals.
To be fair, he’s never said one stern word to me.
He’s never had the reason—before today, that is.
But I walked in on him once when he was in the middle of a meeting, his finger jabbing the chest of some guy in a business suit while he read him the riot act.
I saw the way his employees sucked up to him, and rushed to meet his needs.
He may be nice to me, but it’s only because I haven’t fucked up.
Until now. Until I’ve pissed him off so bad, all he can do is laugh before he rips me a new one.
“Brilliant,” he says.
My chest tightens. “Brilliant, as in, you can’t believe you hired an idiot like me?”
“Come on sweetheart, give yourself a little more credit. Or at least, give me some credit. I hired you because you think outside the box, and obviously that’s what you’re doing now.” He laughs again. “It’s not easy connecting with people in a small town.”
“You have no idea,” I mutter.
“But treating them right off the bat is a clever move. It gets them to trust you, maybe even welcome you, and by extension, it will get them to welcome Timeless when it’s up and running. I like your style.”
I’m about to tell him otherwise, but the sound of the door closing behind me almost makes me drop the phone.
I whip around to see Ashton re-locking the door while Lottie sits in her stroller next to him.
When he turns around, he has a sheepish look on his face while holding up the keys that let him in.
Keys he shouldn’t have.
“Listen, I need to go,” I say, my eyes never leaving Ashton’s.
“I get it. Busy at work, that’s my Jordy. I look forward to seeing what you come up with. I should have the management team in place soon. I want you and me to be the leads on this project, but we can start including them in these conversations once they’re up and running.”
“I look forward to it.”
Once I hang up, I glare at Ashton.
“What? This town is not only in each other’s business, but you all have keys to each other’s businesses as well?”
“Nope. Just me and you.” He twists the key off the ring, then holds it out to me. I stride over and snatch it out of his hand.
“And why would you have a key?”
It dawns on me as soon as the words leave my mouth.
“It was your store.”
“It was my store,” he agrees. “Well, it’s actually Bob and Bec’s store. But I managed it until the end.”
It’s then that I remember my conversation with Alexander yesterday. The names he said.
Mr. Felix. Like Bob and Bec of Felix Family Farms. Which means…
“You’re Mr. Elliot.”
Ashton nods. “That’s the last key I have, as far as I know. But your employer will probably change the locks anyway.”
“Likely.” I have so many questions, none of them important and all of them completely nosy. “Why did you sell?”
“Good question.”
Lottie begins fussing, twisting in her stroller. He starts to unbuckle her, but then stops. “We usually let her go free in the shop. Do you mind?”