32. Simon
Idon’t think a day can go bad when it starts with french toast.
And sex.
Sex and french toast. Better than any coffee on the planet.
“Quit smiling,” Charlie says as she pours me a cup of coffee. “Customers are going to suspect something.”
“Can’t a guy smile?”
“Not like that unless he’s auditioning for the role of a Disney villain.”
“Very funny.” I lean over the counter to give her a quick kiss. “What do I owe the pleasure of you being here to serve me my coffee?”
“I’m just in a good mood,” she says. “Things are running smoothly. The baby is cooperating so far today. My mushroom order appeared last night, which means my stern talking-to with my weed loving mushroom distributor finally worked. And I get to see to my…boyfriend…baby dad…you.”
I laugh. “Not liking any of my official titles?”
She shrugs as she takes off her apron and puts on her coat. “Boyfriend feels high school. You know how I feel about baby daddy. Partner is the best, but still sounds like we work at a law firm together. Just nothing feels right.”
“I agree,” I say as I lean a little closer. “I think husband would sound much better.”
I’m greeted by her patented “you’re ridiculous” eye roll and a smile.
It’s her love language for me.
“How about one major life event at a time?” Charlie comes around the counter and gives me a kiss on the cheek. “I have to run to the bank. Your french toast is being made now and one of the girls will bring it to you.”
“You’re the best.”
“I know.”
She gives me a wink before heading out the door. I watch as she crosses the street, choosing to walk the block and a half toward the bank instead of driving. I don’t blame her. It’s a beautiful February day. A little chilly, but the sun is a welcome change from the days of dreary winter we’ve had.
Once she’s out of sight I turn back to the counter, where I’m greeted by my plate of french toast.
“The perfect start to the morning.”
“Don’t mind if I do.”
Before I realize what’s happening, Emmett is grabbing my plate of syrupy deliciousness and sliding it in front of him.
“What the fuck are you doing here?”
“Getting breakfast.”
I look around to quickly see if anyone is noticing us. Or if Charlie has made the quickest trip to the bank in recorded history. “You know what I mean.”
My whisper-yell is shortened when the waitress comes over and pours Emmett a cup of coffee. “Thank you, darlin’.’”
I watch the blush cross her cheeks as she slowly walks away. Any other day I’d love to play wingman for my friend and business partner, but right now I need to know what the fuck he’s doing here.
“Done flirting yet?”
“Never.”
“You’re an asshole.” I signal for him to follow me through the kitchen and into the office. I know this isn’t the best place for this conversation, but in here we can close the door and shut the blinds. I ignore the greeting from Mellie as I storm through the kitchen, which I’m sure is going to raise a few red flags but I can’t focus on that right now.
“What the fuck are you doing here?”
“No matter how many times you ask me that question, the answer is going to be the same. Getting breakfast.”
“Why? Don’t they have breakfast places in Nashville?”
Emmett goes to sit on the corner of Charlie’s desk. “They do. But every Tuesday is Rolling Hills day. You would know this if you read your emails.”
“I read them. Mostly…”
Emmett shakes his head. “To catch you up, each Tuesday I come into town and start my day off with breakfast from this amazing place. The Breakfast Burger is something to rave about.”
“I can send you one so you don’t have to make an appearance.”
“Not the same. Anyway, I come in for breakfast, grab a coffee to go and then head next door to the construction zone we’re currently in to make sure things are on track for that project. You know, the construction you’re paying for? Anyway, today I’m also doing a walkthrough of the apartment that Charlie has moved out of so we can potentially rent it. You know, so you’ll actually make some money on this place since I know you aren’t cashing Charlie’s rent checks.”
“I’m cashing them. Now,” I defend. “I’m just not taking the money.”
“Same thing,” he says.
“It’s not.”
“In her mind it’s going to be,” Emmett says before letting out a frustrated breath. “And when she finds out that the apartment she thought was too good to be true actually was? How do you think that will make her feel?”
“She’ll understand.” I say.
The growl Emmett lets out is almost feral. “Simon, I need you to hear this. I’ve gotten to know Charlie pretty well these last few months. What do you think her reaction is going to be when she realizes that you’re behind every single part of the restaurant without her knowledge? That her hard work is going to seem for nothing.”
“It’s not for nothing,” I say. “She’s still paying rent. She’s managing this place. This is all her. She’s making money off her customers and her food.”
“What about when the ice machine shit the bed? You think a new one would have magically appeared in twenty-four hours if it were anyone else?”
“Well…”
“Or when the ceiling leaked? How should that be explained when it was fixed in a matter of hours?”
“But that’s the owner’s responsibility. That one I’m good on.”
“While that might be true, you got it done when she didn’t have to close for a day. Not many people would have done that.”
“We can just say that we provide top-tier service for our tenants.”
“Does that include driving twenty miles outside of town to get the mushrooms? Because I know that guy just didn’t suddenly start delivering again.”
I start to reply, but don’t say anything. That one I thought I was getting away with. “The asshole needed to realize he wasn’t going to fuck with her.”
“And did he?”
I shake my head. “He was pretty stoned. It’s just easier if I pick them up and have them delivered each week.”
“Does that kind of customer service go to all your tenants?”
Okay, now I’m getting angry. “I’m not a slum lord, Emmett.”
“I’m not saying you are.” Emmett takes a deep breath. “I’m just saying, if this were one of your Nashville properties, or any of the other Rolling Hills buildings you own, you wouldn’t have called in the favors you did. You sure as hell wouldn’t have driven to a fucking shroom farm on a weekly basis.”
He’s right. That farm was dirty as hell. “Okay. You’re right. You happy?”
“No! I’m not happy.” Emmett starts pacing around the small office. “You have to tell her. Today. Right now.”
“I can’t today.”
“Why not?”
I scramble for an answer. Because there is no answer. I’m just scared to do it, but like hell I’m going to admit that to Emmett. “Because I can’t. But I will.”
“When Simon? Because you saying that you’ll do it soon doesn’t hold a lot of weight these days.”
“I will.”
“No you won’t,” he says. “You made me believe it would have happened by now. So when? Tonight? Tomorrow? During the delivery of your daughter? Or maybe if you two get married it can be part of your vows. Maybe then you can tell Charlie everything.”
“Tell me what?”
Emmett and I turn to see Charlie, who’s standing at the door of her office. She looks confused, and a little scared.
Fuck my life.
“Simon? What’s going on?”
“Simon, you have three seconds to explain everything, or I’m going to fucking lose it.”
“Bug, please sit?—”
“Don’t you Bug me. Start talking. Now.”
Okay, she means business. Not that I didn’t think she meant business. Hell, her face is redder than any shade her hair has been and her nostrils are actually flaring.
I fucked up. So bad.
Now I can only hope that somehow I can dig my way out of this.
“I don’t know where to start.” I admit.
“Convenient.” She’s marching around the living room, her stomps getting heavier with each one. I wish she’d sit, her blood pressure is rising, and this can’t be good for her or the baby. I also know better than to suggest that right now. “Well, then, let me help you. How about you tell me why you were in my office having an argument with my property manager?”
This is it. This is where I come clean. The things I should have told her months ago when I could’ve controlled this.
But I didn’t. Because I’m an idiot.
“Because he’s my property manager.”
“What?” She blinks a few times, not seeming to understand my words. “You use him too?”
I shake my head. “No. He only works for me.”
Charlie doesn’t say anything for a second, letting my words sink in. “You’re Magnolia Properties?”
“I am.”
“Which means you’re my landlord.”
“Yes.”
This makes her take a seat.
“How? When? Why didn’t you…”
Were those questions rhetorical? “I don’t know which one you want me to answer…”
She snaps a look of murder to me. “This isn’t time for your smartass remarks. Just fucking start talking.”
Noted.
“If you want the true beginning, Emmett and I were roommates our freshman year of college.”
“What? Oh my God…that first day I met him, I knew he looked familiar.”
I nod. “We stayed friends. Had some classes together. We reconnected last year.”
“Great story, but what does that have to do with this?”
“A lot, I promise.” I take a breath, knowing that it’s only going to get worse from here. “Emmett actually came to Mona’s months ago and made her an offer. She was going to sell to him when I convinced her to sell to me. In the course of that conversation, I also persuaded Emmett to come work for me and be my manager for Magnolia Properties.”
“I thought you were a real estate agent? Like, sold houses?”
“I am. I do. But I also have commercial properties. It was just a few, but I wanted to expand. And to do that I needed a property manager.”
“And you got them both that day.”
“I want to go on the record, before I say anything else, I bought Mona’s before I knew you were looking for a restaurant. I swear on everything I have.”
“When did you find out I was looking for a space?”
I say the next part quickly so I can brace for the blow back. “The night before you were scheduled to look at it.”
I watch the realization come over her beautiful, yet pissed off, face. “So from the beginning. Oh my God! We had slept together by then! What the fuck, Simon!”
She’s back up and pacing. “How did you find out?”
“By accident.” My tone is creeping into the pleading side, and if I had to take a guess, I’ll be full out begging by the end of this. “Emmett told me he had a showing and who you were. He didn’t recognize your name from college, so he had no idea. He also didn’t know why I told him what to do next.”
She stops and glares at me. “Which was?”
Here it goes…“Make sure you take the restaurant, no matter what.”
I expect screaming. Profanities. Maybe her throwing one of her knives at me.
What I don’t expect is calm.
Eerie calm.
Which I’m now realizing is more terrifying than Charlie yelling at me.
“No matter what?” She sits back down across from me. Our eyes are locked, and a chill runs through me when I see how much anger and hurt are in her eyes. “So my dream restaurant that I thought no way could be as cheap as it was, that happened to come with an apartment for no extra rent, that was you?”
“Yes. It was me.”
“And the up-to-date kitchen equipment that I was curious as to why Mona would upgrade when she was selling?”
“I replaced them before you got here.”
“Oh my God!” She yells, now popping back up. “You got me the ice machine. And fixed the ceiling! Didn’t you?”
“Well, Emmett did those things…”
“Quit with the fucking technicalities, Simon. Oh my God! The mushroom guy! Are you why I suddenly have mushrooms again?”
I nod, but hang my head in the process in shame. “It was just easier if I went and picked them up for you.”
“Fucking Christ!” She falls back on the couch, almost in a defeated way. “So here’s me, thinking I walked into my dream. That my hard work and blood and sweat and tears and slaving away with grunt work for God knows how long, that this was me being rewarded. But the whole time, it wasn’t my hard work or luck or good fortune, it was you playing the fucking puppet master.”
“No!”
“Quit lying Simon! It was you! Everything was you!”
“Fine!” I yell, finally snapping. “Yes, it was me. I made sure you got your restaurant. I told Emmett to cancel every other showing and to rent it to you for a penny if he wanted to.”
“Why would you do that? Do you hear how insane that sounds?”
“Yes, I do, and it was insane, but that’s what you were making me!”
This seems to take her aback.
“Me? Making you insane? I’d love to hear this…”
I know she’s pissed at me, and she has every reason. But I had, and still have, my reasons for what I did. And she needs to know them.
“I did it because I needed you here. I needed to make sure you wouldn’t run again.”
She stops whatever it was she was about to say. “Keep me here?”
“Yes,” I try to even my tone, but I don’t know if it’s working. “After fifteen years you were back in my life. And I needed answers. I needed you to talk to me, but you wouldn’t. I was going crazy, and I didn’t know how else to make that happen.”
“So you bought me a fucking restaurant?”
“Technically I rented it to you.”
Charlie’s eyes are daggers right now. “You’re the reason why I thought there was a problem with my checks? Did you not cash them?”
I nod. “Not at first. But then I did. But I haven’t spent a dime of it. I promise.”
She huffs out a laugh. “That’s even worse! Making me think I was doing this all on my own. Especially when you know how much I hate handouts.”
I take a few steps closer to her. “Charlie, I know you’re pissed, and rightfully so, but you have to listen to me. You were back in my life. Not once, but twice. And both times you ran. You left before I could get the answers I needed. The answers that had been driving me crazy for more than a decade. I was manic. I didn’t know what else to do.”
“How about a conversation?” She says. “How about, ‘Hey Charlie. Let’s talk.’”
“Would you have?” I ask. “Because I seem to remember me doing that, and you slamming a door in my face. Or leaving before the sun came up.”
She doesn’t respond. She knows I’m right. At least about that. The anger in her eyes says as much.
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you,” I begin, grabbing her hand and bringing her to sit next to me on the couch. “I know I should’ve told you when we first got together. And I’m sorry if you feel like this is charity, because I didn’t mean it to come off like that. That I am sorry for. But I’m not sorry for what I did.”
She rips her hand from mine. “Excuse me?”
“I helped you get your dream,” I say. “Yes, it wasn’t the best way to do it. But I helped make that happen for you. Seeing you happy and thriving and getting everything you deserve, that’s all I want for you. Even when you hated me, I wanted you to succeed. And you know what? I’d do it again. Because you getting everything you want in life is all that matters to me.”
There, the cards are on the table.
And Charlie isn’t saying a thing.
This isn’t like the eerie silence from a few minutes ago. No…this feels like the part of the storm where you think it’s over, only to get slammed by one more flood.
Charlie stands up, and I follow, but she quickly holds her hands up to stop me. “No. I need some space.”
“Space?”
She nods. “For months now I felt like absolute shit for not letting you explain yourself to me. That for fifteen years we wasted time because of a miscommunication. And here this whole time you were straight up lying to me. A lie you don’t even feel bad about.”
“Charlie, I didn’t mean it like that…”
I see the tear fall from her eye and that is my undoing. “Simon Banks never says anything he doesn’t mean. Isn’t that right?”
I hang my head.
“Exactly. You finally told the truth. That you lied to me. For months. I…I just need some time.”
Charlie starts walking out of the living room toward our bedroom. “Where are you going?”
I feel my own tears welling as I watch her crying, standing in the hallway and looking so broken.
I did that. I broke her.
The thing I would have done anything to prevent, I did.
“I’m going to go to the apartment.”
“Whatever you want.” I quickly say before realizing that she shouldn’t be leaving. “No. I’ll go there. You stay here.”
“No, Simon. I need to be away. I just…I just can’t be here right now.”
“For how long?”
She shrugs. “I don’t know, Simon…I don’t know.”
Charlie turns without another word and walks back to the bedroom. Twenty minutes later, with a bag in her hand, she leaves without saying another word.
I thought my heart hurt earlier. But that was nothing compared to now.
Because this is what it feels like when your heart is shattered.
And you only have yourself to blame.