Chapter Seven
Margo
Icould still feel his kiss, the hard yet determined touch of his lips, against my forehead.
The burn from Hayes leaving Carrie’s party was still lingering on every inch of my skin.
My fingers ran through my hair one last time before my hand fell into my lap, the other still tightly wrapped around the steering wheel.
The light turned green and I took my foot off the brake, turning onto Main Street.
The sun was shining today, a rare feat in the PNW during the fall.
The trees that lined the downtown sidewalks had turned weeks ago, providing a new sense of life in the town, dotting it with orange and yellow leaves, red mums planted around the bases.
As I drove by the businesses, shops, restaurants, and bakeries, I didn’t feel the warm and fuzzy joy I usually felt during the final stretch of my commute to work. Instead, a heavy sense of dread had taken residence, and I was drowning in it.
Hayes had told me he was leaving.
Hayes regretted leaving my bed.
Hayes still wanted me.
He didn’t tell me where he was going when he left, leaving me shocked and Rossy confused.
And when the rest of the Red Snake men reemerged from Grayson’s office, their good moods were gone.
The remainder of the evening stretched on as Carrie tried to maintain the good vibes, but after Grayson got that phone call, I knew something was wrong.
Rossy noticed that my tears about Carrie asking me to be her maid of honor weren’t joyful ones and had ushered me into the kitchen for a cup of tea, telling me not to worry.
But when it came to Mr. Grumpy Perfect Superman, that was all I did, apparently.
As I swung into the alley behind the bookstore, my check engine light popped on.
I shifted into park, glaring at the yellow light, nearly at my wit’s end.
I leaned back in my seat, closed my eyes, and took a deep breath.
“Okay, okay. Listen, I know you didn’t have many years left when I bought you from the used car lot last year,” I began as if reciting a prayer.
“But the thing is, you’re my only way to campus.
” I opened my eyes, staring at the dash.
I brought my hands up, rubbing the steering wheel.
“Can you hold out until graduation?” I begged. “Please?”
A knock sounded on my window, and I jumped, letting out a short scream.
Sarah was there, looking at me as if I’d grown two heads, a soft orange scarf wrapped around her neck. She pointed down and mouthed, “What’s wrong?”
I jolted and lowered the window slowly, cringing as it made an unpleasant squeak as it went. “Jesus, Sarah,” I griped. “You nearly gave me a heart attack.”
She winced, tucking a chunk of her shiny light brown hair behind her ear. “Sorry, babe. I’m on my way to the bank and saw you freaking out. You okay?”
“I wasn’t freaking out,” I lied instantly, pulling my hair over one shoulder and reaching for one of the hair ties in my cup holder.
Her lips thinned. “You were stroking the steering wheel and talking to yourself.”
I made a face. “Don’t say stroking like that.”
“Margo.”
“What?” I asked, irritated, my fingers braiding my hair.
Sarah tilted her head to the side, her features softening.
Shit.
She was giving me one of her mom looks.
I sighed. “Nothing is wrong.”
“The check engine light blinking on your dash says otherwise,” she noted.
I looked at it and then back at her as I tied off my braid, tossing it over my shoulder. “Yeah, it’s fine. I probably just need to bang the radiator with a hammer or something.”
She looked downright horrified. “Please don’t do that. Michael can take a look at it when he stops by this afternoon.”
My skin felt prickly. “No, that’s okay. I’m sure it’s nothing.”
“Margo—”
“Look, my shift just started. I need to get in there before Rossy has a meltdown about the line. You know how he gets when there’s a line,” I rushed out, rolling up the window.
I gave her my back as I reached into the back seat, covering my backpack and spilled textbooks up with a blanket.
Astoria was a safe town, but this was a habit I couldn’t bring myself to break.
Once that was done, I grabbed my purse and opened the car door.
Sarah stepped back, holding the deposit bag to her chest, watching me as the breeze hit us, shifting her hair and her scarf.
I shivered, pulling my red wool coat together.
“You think it’s going to snow tonight?” I asked conversationally.
“Margo.”
“I mean, it’s a little early, but apparently the south is due for a bad winter, which means that we are going to get hit with a double bad winter,” I continued, looking up and down the alley, avoiding her stare.
“Margo.”
“You should get that to the bank before Larry goes to Margie’s for lunch,” I suggested, throwing my purse over my shoulder. “I’ll have your latte waiting when you get back.” I turned and headed for the employee entrance.
I kept my eyes on the maroon metal door as she called out, “Is that latte going to come with a conversation?”
I lifted my hand and flipped her off. “That costs extra.”
Thankfully, her laughter filled my ears as I yanked open the door, a wave of welcoming heat slamming into me.
Since Rossy’s Books opened nearly a decade ago, it had seen a plethora of customers from all walks of life.
It was one of the reasons I enjoyed working here.
Despite my own failures, it was a pleasure to witness others succeeding in different ways.
It gave me hope when I’d come from a place where the absence of success lingered in the air like a toxin.
Through the thousands of espressos I’d brewed and poured, I’d gotten to witness Sarah and Michael raising their children, Rossy found his love for writing again, and Carrie found everything she was looking for when she came to Astoria.
I’d also seen three proposals and a handful of author signings where the writer slowly came to the realization that their work meant something to someone.
Success and happiness weaved through the stacks of this tiny little hole-in-the-wall bookstore by the sea, and I was grateful to be a part of it.
However, on this particular afternoon, the gratitude was hard to find because Red Snake’s hacker, Jake Murphy, had planted himself at the bar at the start of my shift.
He’d ordered three coffees and had hardly looked up from his laptop, his eyes narrowed behind his black-rimmed glasses, studying the screen as if he was trying to solve world hunger.
I mean, all he had to do was hack into the bank accounts of billionaires and—
“Margo?”
Pulling my eyes away from the red-headed mountain of a man, I found Carrie approaching the counter, a stack of children’s books in her hand. “What’s up, Cardinal?”
“Did you happen to see a box in the back from Hummingbird Publishing?”
I shook my head and leaned back against the espresso counter. “No, I haven’t seen any deliveries from them in about a month.”
She bit the inside of her cheek. “Same here. Their distribution manager sent us an email last week saying that we had about five boxes of Frank’s new release on the way.”
Frank Malled was a local horror author, and with every book release, Rossy scheduled a signing for him.
My brows shot to the ceiling. “Isn’t his signing next Thursday?”
Carrie let out a heavy sigh, depositing her books on the counter before dropping her head on it.
“Yes,” she groaned. “He called this morning while you were in class and, of course, I told him that everything was ready to go for his signing. That we were so excited, and blah blah blah…” She trailed off, leaning up and covering her face with her hands.
“I can’t piss off Frank, Margo. What if he kills off my favorite character because I lied to him? ”
I rolled my eyes. “He isn’t going to—wait, who is your favorite character?”
She split her fingers open around her eyes, her answer muffled. “Adam Rosemore.”
My eyes nearly popped out of my head. “There’s no fucking way that Adam Bitch-Ass Rosemore is your favorite character,” I gasped, putting my hands on my hips. “Seriously?”
She stared at me. “What’s wrong with that?”
I threw my arm out. “He cheated on Mary Ann!”
“Wh-what?” she stammered, pale as a ghost. “He what?”
My mouth snapped shut. Oh shit, had she even read the third book yet?
A warm chuckle came from the end of the counter. Jake didn’t even take his eyes off his computer as he lifted his to-go to his lips and muttered, “She isn’t caught up, Margo.”
I looked back to Cardinal and slowly raised my hands. “I didn’t know! I thought you’d read Midnight Runs already.”
My best friend blinked once, then twice. “I think you just hit me with the biggest spoiler of my life,” she whispered.
“To be fair,” Jake interjected, “Midnight Runs has been out for nine months, Care. There’s been plenty of time to read it.”
She glared at him. “I’ve been a little busy.”
He shot me a smirk before turning on his stool, facing Cardinal. “So have I, and I read it. You have no excuse.”
“I’m still trying to wrap my head around the fact that you’ve read the series,” I muttered, studying him. “I thought you Red Snake men were all work and no play.”
The hacker looked me dead in the eye then, pinning me in place. “Oh, trust me, we like to play.”
My cheeks heated, knowing exactly what Hayes liked to do when he was playing, as Cardinal rolled her eyes. “That’s such a lie. You four are always working on something.”
Jake looked at her and smiled. “The work never ends, but I still make time to read Frank’s series.”
Her mouth flattened to a thin line. “Whatever.”