Chapter Five
Ava
I woke in a state of pure bliss on Tuesday morning. Not only was it my day off, which meant I could sleep in until nine, but I was also on the path to bringing my girls back together around the bed and breakfast dream. The early summer sunshine warmed my face as I rolled over in bed and grabbed my phone to shut off the alarm. Everything was amazing.
Until I saw a message waiting.
Iris just dropped me cold with some excuse about a waitlist. Except that an assistant would have known already that they had no one available, and she hadn’t mentioned any kind of potential wait.
Ben was behind this. There was no other explanation.
Jumping out of bed, fueled entirely by anger, I hurried downstairs to dig that stupid flyer out of my purse. It had Ben’s phone number and email address on it, and I wasn’t about to let this go. If he thought he could just ignore me, he was about to learn a thing or two.
Ava: Good morning, Benjamin. I received your message. Unsurprising that you have your assistant do your dirty work for you , dropping potential clients onto a phony waitlist. I’m going to keep contacting you until you give me a tour of that house.
I’d give him an hour, maybe. Then I’d resend it.
My parents’ place was your typical lake house. Two stories, connected in the most inconvenient way possible. A front door that led directly into a landing to the basement, because why not? A sunroom that was functionally a laundry room, in full view of all the neighbors, I assume so that I could be judged on how far behind I was on sorting and folding. Bedrooms so small I couldn’t fit a headboard in if I wanted walking room. And, of course, a kitchen made of four different wood finishes.
I couldn’t have loved it more.
By the time I’d showered and cooked a quick breakfast, I still hadn’t heard from Ben, so I resent the text. Would he really reply, though?
I wasn’t sure if I would answer a text like that, and I was at least a nice person. He was horrible, breaking people’s hearts for no reason. And if it had only been her heart, that would’ve been one thing. But he’d broken some part of her spirit, too.
She didn’t date again until her sophomore year of college, and none of us even knew she’d been in a relationship until she casually mentioned her ex-boyfriend in the group text months after they’d broken up. The Jules before Ben would gush on the daily about every single boy and every single date and every single feeling she had over all of it. The Jules after Ben locked all that up tight.
The other girls and I had discussed it without Jules, trying to figure ways to help her through it. We all saw the change in her—it was like a switch had flipped overnight. Nothing we tried worked, so we supported her by shunning Ben.
I don’t know exactly what happened that night, but it must’ve been truly awful.
Two hours and two texts later, I determined that he probably wasn’t going to respond. By then, though, I’d thought of an alternative plan. Dialing the number for Ben’s office, I waited for Iris to pick up.
“Hello, McKinley Realty, this is Iris speaking. How may I help you today?”
“Hi, Iris. I’m interested in becoming a realtor, and I was hoping I could schedule a meeting with Mr. McKinley. Is he available today?” I knew it was a long shot, but if he wasn’t available today I was prepared to take time off work if it meant finally getting him to hear me out.
“I’m sorry, he’s over at Schuman’s all day today for the big haying. That’s wonderful, though! Is there another day that would work?”
“Schuman Farms?” I repeated, not sure I heard her right.
“Yeah, he helps out at the farm every year when they need to move the hay bales out of the field. I think it’s become something of a tradition.”
An idea popped into my head. An outrageous idea, something I’d never normally consider. But Ben was beginning to irritate me with his unfounded refusal to even show me the property. No, not show me the property. He was refusing to even speak to me about it.
I told Iris I wasn’t ready to find a different day, ending the call quickly and cordially. I couldn’t hold any of this against her because I knew Ben. He probably bullied her into dropping me. Maybe he even threatened her job security. He was basically a Bond villain, and it didn’t help his image that he had a real estate monopoly. I imagined him living in a gated manor just outside of town, filled to bursting with expensive frills that no one really needed and a basement lair for good measure.
Fuming so hard I was certain smoke blew out my ears, I threw on jeans and an AC/DC tank and hopped in my parents’ old Toyota minivan, heading straight to Schuman Farms.