8. Simon
There are some places in the world that just make me feel at peace.
The steam room at the gym.
A golf course in the morning.
A quiet cigar lounge with a good glass of scotch.
And Wes Taylor’s backyard.
I don’t know what my third-ranking best friend did back here, but it’s the perfect place for any occasion. Between the huge swimming pool, two fire pits, a lanai with plenty of seating, and a hot tub, the man has created a backyard oasis. So whether it’s a birthday party for his seven-year-old daughter Magnolia, also known as my goddaughter, or tonight when he’s hosting an impromptu un-engagement party with our closest friends and family, it works.
If I’m here, that means I’m with my friends, who are like my family. Don’t get me wrong, I have a wonderful family. Loving and supportive parents. Sisters who might be a pain in the ass but I love them fiercely. But when it comes to the group of friends who have become my family, I’ll lie, steal, and murder for them. No questions asked. They helped me become the man I am today. I’ll do anything for them.
Except heavy lifting or yard work. I can; I just don’t want to.
Being here tonight, surrounded by my friends and our extended families, is the perfect night and exactly what I need. I’ve been feeling off the past few weeks. And it doesn’t take much to figure out when my funk started.
Charlie fucking Bennett. What power does this woman have over me that she makes it impossible for me to function? Not even buying Mona’s has lifted my mood. And buying a piece of property always lifts my spirits.
“Hey, man.” I feel the pat on my shoulder as Shane comes up next to me, handing me a drink.
“If it isn’t the man of the night,” I say, tapping my beer to his. “It all worked out.”
Shane nods, and I can feel the relief wafting from his body. “It did.”
Things with Shane and Amelia had been touch and go for weeks since the taste testing. We thought for a minute they were done for. Nevertheless, with the help of me and the guys, everything worked out. And I say me specifically because it took place at my childhood home, which I had no idea had a significance for the two of them. Turns out I missed a lot of signals about Shane and Amelia over the years.
“So, we’re all here,” Betsy says as we all take a seat around the fire pit. “And everyone knows everything, right? No other surprises? Things we forgot to mention?”
We all laugh because it’s a valid question. Things over the past few months have been actual insanity. And in all that’s happened, between Izzy and Oliver, as well as Shane and Amelia, I haven’t told anyone that I’ve bought Mona’s.
Not that I meant to hide it from them—and the news of my recent purchase would absolutely shock them. I just didn’t think it was the appropriate time.
Look at me, being considerate and shit.
Plus, Mona and I are keeping this under wraps until we have a new tenant. People don’t even know she’s selling. Which is shocking considering the Rolling Hills gossip mill could put TMZ out of business. Emmett lined up some showings over the next few days, and Mona agreed to close for “necessary repairs.” She told me she was even going to close the curtains so no one could spy.
Smart woman.
So despite me having news that would fit along with Betsy’s question, I choose to keep this to myself. I’ll tell them when the time is right. Plus, tonight is about Shane and Amelia. Despite what my friends think, I don’t steal thunder.
I just borrow it from time to time.
“All good here,” Wes says. “Football is good. Kids are good. We’re good. Everything is good.”
“You know about us,” Oliver says, wrapping his arm around Izzy, who got back from London this morning. I’m just about to chime in when Oliver continues, “She’s back where she belongs. And, we have an announcement.”
“You’re already engaged,” I say. “And married. You can’t keep doing this.”
This gets a laugh from the group, even Izzy. I knew I liked her from the second Oliver introduced her to us.
“Shut your face,” Oliver says to me. “What I was going to say is that we’re going to hold a reception, and a vow renewal, hopefully next month. Of course, I want everyone to be a part of it.”
“Hell, yeah!” I say. I might now be the lone single guy in the group, but I love a wedding. “I want to DJ.”
Everyone sends me confused looks. Which I get. How many real estate agents do you know that moonlight as a DJ? And in their defense, I don’t. It just seems fun. I have great taste in music, and I’m the best dancer in the group. Obviously, this should be my wedding duty.
“You want to DJ? You can DJ?” Oliver asks.
I shrug. “How hard can it be?”
The only reaction I get from my friends are them shaking their heads and muttering things like “you’re ridiculous.” Which I’m used to. In this friend group, that’s my role.
I’m the outlandish one. Outgoing. I say what’s on my mind, and I’m blunt to a fault. I’m the life of the party and the one to likely stir up trouble.
I take a second to look around the fire pit, and you don’t need to be a genius, mathematician, or a Keebler elf to realize I’m the only one not in a relationship. And it’s not because of the seating arrangements. Take Wes and Betsy. They’re sitting across from each other, but no one would doubt that they’re together simply based on the looks they share. Izzy is sitting on Oliver’s lap, and he refuses to let her go. Amelia has her head on Shane’s shoulder, her arms wrapped around his.
For some, this might give them pause or make them wonder if it’s time to settle down in their lives. But not me.
I’m Simon Banks. King of the casual relationship.
Love is great and all, but I’ve never understood why people need it to feel complete. I have everything I need. Friends. Family. A job that I’m excited to go to everyday that also makes me a shit-ton of money. More money than I will ever spend on myself. Which lets me spoil the people I love. But hey, that’s my role. The fun uncle. The godfather. The wingman. It’s who I am and what I’m good at. So yes, I wake up alone—and most of the time go to sleep alone—but I don’t feel like I’m missing out on anything. Life is good.
Plus, the only woman who I’ve ever even considered dating seriously has now walked out of my life twice after moments that I thought could change everything. So yeah, I’m good on the whole dating thing.
Actually no. I’m not. Well, not the dating thing. But Charlie. Twice now she’s ran. I figured she was going to this time—I expected it—but a little part of me hoped she wouldn’t. I know we were drunk, so our inhibitions were down, but she’d be a liar if she says she didn’t feel the chemistry that ran through us that night.
But, just like I expected, I woke up the next day exhausted, sad, and pissed. It was pretty reminiscent of when she left all those years ago.
Why does she keep running? Why does she hate me? No, I don’t like her, but that’s because she doesn’t like me. And won’t tell me what the hell I did. She’s driven me fucking mad over the years, and for the life of me I don’t know what I did to make her detest me so much.
I just want answers. I don’t think that’s too much to ask for.
“Actually!” Izzy chimes in. “Amelia or Betsy, I need to talk to Whitley. I’d love to hire her to put the reception together for me.”
“Easy enough,” Amelia says, taking a quick glance toward the gate. “She should be here any minute now. A friend of hers was coming into town tonight because she was going to look at a piece of property tomorrow. Oh, I remember now! Betsy, it was the caterer from her wedding. You remember her, right? I think her name is Charlie.”
What did she say?
I try not to react, but I feel my body stiffen just hearing her name. I think I’ve quit breathing.
She’s coming to look at property? What kind of property? A restaurant maybe? Is it a coincidence that tomorrow is the first day we’re showing the restaurant? Is she coming to look at it? She can’t be. But she could… Fuck, I don’t know. Emmett has been the one to line up the showings, so I have no clue who is coming in. He just told me “a few.”
Is Charlie one of the few?
“Simon?” Amelia asks. “Is everything okay?”
“Yup.” Apparently I didn’t say “yup” right because now I have six sets of eyes staring at me.
“Simon,” Shane says, leaning a little closer. He’s staring me down, and I know this look. It’s the he-knows-I’m-full-of-shit look. Fuck…this man knows me too well. “Anything you want to share with the class?”
“Nope.”
“Nothing at all?”
Did I stutter? “I said no.”
“So if I say the word ‘bug’ it isn’t going to make you irrationally angry?”
I feel my blood start to boil as he says her nickname. The nickname only I use.
A hush falls over our circle. No one is breathing. No one has blinked as they stare at me, waiting for my response.
What do I say? What can I say? Because I’ve never told anyone about her. Not even Oliver, who came to Knoxville to visit me on numerous occasions in college. I sure as hell didn’t tell them about our night together.
She’s my secret. My infatuation. The girl I can’t get out of my head. The one who drove, and is driving, me crazy. The one who saw through my bullshit.
The one who left without a word. Twice.
The one who to this day is making me hate that I want her and hate that I can’t get her out of my head.
My Bug.
“Simon?” Amelia puts her hand on my knee as her soft tone comes through. “Everything okay?”
“Fuck this!”
I don’t mean to make a dramatic exit, but I do as I shoot up from my chair and storm across Wes’s backyard. I don’t say bye to anyone as I race to my car and slam the door shut. Without thinking, I peel out of the driveway.
What the fuck? She’s here? In Rolling Hills? I start to turn toward Whitley’s house but I stop myself. That’s insane behavior. Except I’m feeling a little insane right now. That’s how she makes me feel. Crazy and insane and impulsive.
Well, more than normal.
I start driving aimlessly and use the voice command to call Emmett. Because I need answers, and he has at least some of them.
“Hey, man.”
“Who are you showing the restaurant to tomorrow?’
“Nice to talk to you too,” he says. “My night is going fine, by the way.”
“Great. Now answer me.”
“I thought you didn’t care to know?”
“Well, now I want to.”
“Sheesh, chill out,” he says. “My first showing is at eight in the morning. A woman named Whitley Evans set up the showing, but she told me she was doing it for a friend who would be the tenant.”
“What’s that person’s name?”
I hold my breath as I wait for the two words I know he’s about to say.
“Charlie Bennett.”
I almost rip the steering wheel off the column as I turn onto an empty side road. I don’t even bother throwing on my flashers. Hell, I barely remember to put the car in park. All I know is that in this moment I can’t drive. I can barely think.
She’s here.
“I’m going to go out on a limb and say that you know her?”
I try my best to calm down so I can figure out how I want to explain this to Emmett. I know I need to tell him something, but I don’t want to tell him everything. Not yet. Not until I know if she’s here for good.
No. Not if. When.
Because she’s going to be. I’m going to make sure of it.
“She went to college with us.”
“Really? I don’t remember the name.”
“She was in a few of my business classes. And she worked at the coffee shop.”
“Don’t you hate coffee?”
“I do, but that’s beside the point,” I say. “I need you to make this happen, Emmett.”
“I mean, I figured you wanted it rented quickly,” he says. “And I have a lot?—”
“No. You don’t understand. It needs to be her. It has to be her. Only her.”
I pictured Charlie the day I was at Mona’s and now that picture is even more clear. I can see her smiling and serving the people of Rolling Hills. I can hear her snark and wit come through as she trades barbs with the old men. I can picture it all so clearly.
This is how it’s supposed to be. She’s meant to be here.
And bonus? I can get my answers. Even if it comes with the punishment of knowing what’s underneath her apron.
I’ll deal. It’s worth it to finally have my answers.
“Can I ask why?” Emmett asks.
“Not yet,” I say. The less he knows going into this the better. “Just make her an offer she can’t refuse. I don’t care if she can only afford a dollar. Then that’s her rent.”
“Simon, you can’t be serious.”
“As a heart attack. Make this happen for me, Emmett. It has to be Charlie. Whatever she needs, make it happen.”
I know the rent we were going to charge is probably too high. It’s fair for the market, but unless things have changed over the years, Charlie was always hard pressed when it came to money. And sensitive about it. She never said it directly, but I could tell that was the case. She worked her ass off every minute she wasn’t in class. She didn’t talk about her family much, but I never got the impression she could ask for help.
If that’s still the case, I know for a fact the four-thousand-dollars-a-month price tag I put on it would be too much. And like hell am I going to let a few bucks get in the way of giving her this.
While also getting something for me in return.
“Fine,” he says as I let out a breath. “But under one condition.”
“Name it.”
“That if, and I’ll repeat if, she signs, you need to tell me everything.”
“I promise. You’ll get your answers when you make it happen. Oh, and one more thing.”
“Can’t wait.”
“Under no circumstance can she know that I’ll be the landlord. She can’t know anything about me.”
“Simon.”
“Emmett.”
“What the fuck are you getting me into?”
“Don’t you worry about it.”
“That’s all I’m going to do.”
“It’s nothing illegal, if that makes you feel better.”
“Only slightly.”
“Just make this happen and call me after it does.”
I end the call and sit back, suddenly feeling better than I have in weeks.
Charlie is here. And soon she’s going to be here all the time.
Which, I know how that sounds. I hear it in my head. It’s insane and stalkerish and downright desperate.
But desperate times call for desperate measures.
And Charlie Bennett has made me a desperate man.