Chapter 46
Gold Digger
CALLIE
The high school girl who I met the first time I came into Killer Beans stares at me with narrowed eyes and her hands on her hips.
“Why are you working here, anyway?” Maris tilts her head. “Why don’t you have a real job?”
“Why is this not a real job?” I suppress a grin and continue staring at the iPad, scanning the menu so I continue to get familiar with it.
She blinks at me, ignoring the question I threw back at her.
Fucking hell, teenagers these days.
“My mom said you’re living with Wes, and you’ve only known him for, like, a month. She thinks you’re a gold digger.”
Wes warned me about living in Lake Savage, the smallest town ever, but I guess I didn’t really fully understand how much everyone knows about everyone else’s life.
Right now it’s still charming, but I can see how it could be challenging sometimes.
There is none of the anonymity of living in a city, even a small one like Portland.
“Wes has gold?” I glance up at Maris, but she just rolls her eyes. “Emma—Mrs. Stonewall—is trying to cut back on her hours. So she wanted someone who could be here during the day when you and Juno are at school.”
“Hmm. I guess that makes sense.” Maris looks me up and down in the completely unsubtle way of the teenage girl. “How’d you meet Wes, anyway?”
I can’t say the truth: that I hired him to track down my husband and our relationship culminated when we discovered that my now-dead husband is a serial killer—but the bad kind?
—and he was there when his father killed Wes’s family.
Oh, and Wes and his brother killed my dead husband’s father a decade ago.
“We worked together.” I go with a three-word, less-illegal summary instead.
She narrows her eyes further.
The bell above the coffee shop door jingles, and I’m relieved when a woman with two young daughters walks in to interrupt the awkward conversation.
It’s Saturday and almost closing time after my first week of work at Killer Beans.
It was kind of fate when I stopped in a week or so after the Shane fiasco was over.
Emma was here all alone, and she looked so tired.
After I explained to her that I’d just moved to Lake Savage and was living with Wes, she immediately warmed to me and raved about his pies.
Then she asked if I needed a job. Which, I did.
“Maris, why don’t you help this family?” I look up and smile at the mom with her girls. “And then you can head home.”
Maris rolls her eyes and humphs, but then takes the family’s order with almost a smile. I turn and wipe down the coffee machines as part of the closing checklist Emma prepared for me.
So much has changed in my life, and the changes keep coming. I’m still processing the acceptance that came in yesterday to a Master of Library Science program in Portland. Classes are in-person two days a week, plus online.
The tiny library in Lake Savage is run by a librarian who is about seventy-five years old, and when I stopped in to introduce myself and tell her about the program, her eyes widened, and she said she’d be retiring soon. It seems like fate.
Maris is adding generous amounts of whipped cream to two hot chocolates when the bell jingles again.
I turn with a smile, expecting to see another local customer.
Instead, it’s my half-sister.
“Meadow,” I say, shock in my voice.
“Hey, Callie.” She gives me a tentative smile. Her cheeks are pink, and she pulls a long blonde braid over her shoulder, so similar to mine except in color.
My heart squeezes at the sight of her. Being in New York during the whole fight club drama with Shane made me realize I’ve neglected my relationship with Meadow. We didn’t grow up together, but that’s no reason for us not to get to know each other as adults.
“It’s so good to see you. What brings you to Lake Savage?” When I realize that sounds sort of aggressive, I add a big smile. “You’re always welcome here, of course.”
“I wanted to come see where you live.” Meadow sniffles. Her eyes are slightly puffy, the skin around them pink.
Maris is watching the interaction with keen attention, having handed off the hot drinks to the family. I’m sure she’s going to report back to her mother or her friends or whomever and there will be a whole new rumor about Wes’s gold-digger girlfriend.
“Maris, thanks for your help today. See you next week, right?”
I swear to god she rolls her eyes at me again and mutters something under her breath as she takes off her apron and reaches under the counter for her bag.
Maris walks out with a final curious glance at Meadow.
Meadow and I are left standing in front of the register. She’s smiling brightly and looking around like she’s never seen a coffee shop, and I’m trying to figure out what to say since she’s not offering an explanation for why she’s here.
“You okay, Meadow? It’s so good to see you, but—”
“I’m sorry for just showing up.” Meadow interrupts. “I—” She turns to me with wide eyes that are filled with tears. “Well, things kind of fell apart for me in New York.”
“Oh. Shit. Hey, why don’t you sit?” I gesture to a table. There are no more customers in sight, and we’re almost at closing time, so while Meadow pulls up a chair at the round table, I flick the sign on the door to closed and click the lock. “Tea? Coffee?”
“You don’t have alcohol, do you?”
“Nope, it’s a coffee shop only.”
“Damn.” She rubs her hands together. “Tea would be nice then.”
I make two mugs of tea in silence, preparing hers like I like mine, and then join Meadow at the table.
“So what happened in New York?” I wrap my hands around the ceramic mug that says Killer Beans.
“That asshole Jones got really handsy. Like literally, he’d walk by and touch me every single time. He’s kind of hot, but it was gross.”
“Asshole. And he’s like twice your age.” Fucking Jones. He was the source of so many problems.
“Plus gross and sketchy.”
“For sure.” I kind of wish I had asked Wes and Noah to take care of Jones. I’m sure they would’ve, but I didn’t want things to look even more suspicious given Shane was gone.
Plus, I don’t want to distribute any more death sentences.
“I thought I’d found my place at the fight club. I’d wanted to be a part of it for so long. It felt like home for a minute.”
I make a sympathetic sound even though I don’t understand that at all.
“Did you know Shane quit?” Meadow asks. “He didn’t even say goodbye. Not that I needed him to, I’m just surprised he sort of disappeared.”
Nope, Shane didn’t quit. That dick is literally dead and buried.
“I don’t talk to him anymore. The divorce is final.” I go with that instead of acknowledging his murder.
“That makes sense,” Meadow says. “And congratulations?”
“Thank you.” I examine her face. “Did… did something else happen in New York?”
She shakes her head, her eyes wide.
I’m betting something else happened in New York, but I’m not close enough to Meadow to push her on it yet. If she wants to keep it a secret, that’s her business.
“Can I stay with you for a while?”
I let out a surprised squeak. “What?”
“I’m sorry, forget it, never mind, that’s too much to ask, I get it—” She shakes her head aggressively.
“Hey!” I wave my hand at Meadow to try to get her to stop. “I didn’t say no. Of course, you can stay with us.”
I probably should ask Wes, as I’ve been living with him for only a month and it’s technically his cabin, but he won’t deny me anything.
“Really?” Meadow looks at me with her big blue eyes. This poor thing. She’s barely thirty and both of her parents are gone—which I can relate to—and it doesn’t sound like she has anyone else to depend on. I get it.
“Yes.” I nod firmly. “Absolutely.”
“Okay. My stuff is at the bed-and-breakfast down the road.”
“Yeah? When did you get here?”
She bites her lip. “Two days ago. I was too nervous to call you.”
“Meadow, you can always call me.” I reach over and pat her hand. Two days ago? And she’s only just come to me? Girl is definitely hiding something. “Why don’t you grab your stuff, and I can take you home with me after I’m done closing.”
“Can you give me the address, and I’ll come later? I have a few things to do first.”
I give her the details and watch her leave, my curiosity piqued.
A half hour later, I walk out into the spring afternoon.
It’s April in Maine, so I’m still wearing my puffy coat, but I left behind my beanie and gloves, and my jacket is unzipped.
It’s almost no jacket weather. My phone buzzes as soon as I step out, so I pause to read the response from Wes about Meadow staying with us.
Wesley
yeah, sure. Whatever she needs
that’s gotta be a good story
Me
I bet
Wesley
is she coming now?
Me
no, in a few hours
Wes is amazing. Every day I’m with him is better than the last. Being with him is a fantasy. Being loved by him is everything.
Wesley
Calliope
Me
yes?
Wesley
when are you going to be home? I miss you and now we’ve got a guest coming soon
Me
just dropping off some book page art at Brutal Reads, then I’ll head home
Wesley
I’m dying for you
Then he sends me a picture, which is a selfie of him lying back on our bed, one hand tucked behind his head, his impeccable triceps and gorgeous abs on full display, a blank slate between the beautiful tattoo artistry on his arms. I click on the picture, then zoom in, scanning every inch of his body on display, heat washing over me.
His eyes are hooded, and the look he’s giving the camera steals my breath.
Me
I’m hurrying