CHAPTER FIVE #2
He shrugs noncommittally. “Nothing. Just be yourself. Make your marshmallows. Brew the coffee. We’ll just grab some footage, capture you in your natural habitat, and see what comes up. Stuff like that.”
I pretend to think about it, but I already know my answer. Fuck yes. I’ve been researching this show since the crew showed up, and they have a voracious fanbase. If I can convince even a fraction of those viewers to stop by my shop on their next trip to Ohio, I’ll be further ahead than before.
Besides, it’ll be a chance for me to make America love me more than they love Kru.
And I can’t pass that up.
“It sounds great,” I admit. “I’d love more eyes on my business.”
“That’s what we’ll give you. In spades ,” Pat says. He winks at me before he turns for the door. “I’ll get some paperwork to you shortly. They’ll be filming over here by next week. Talk soon, Piper.”
Pat pushes out of the shop, leaving me pensive and alone.
I mill around for the rest of the day, alternating between focus on custom orders and wondering what the hell I got myself into. Did I really just agree to be on a reality TV show? It seems a little extreme, but I also recognize it for what it is: a business move.
I’ve seen what viral success can do. It helped boost my business early on.
It’s why I’m as successful as I am, barely six years in, especially after the dumpster fire origin story of this place.
Cloud Nine didn’t start as my marshmallow shop; it began as a partnership between me and a former friend (emphasis on former ) who wanted to run this place like a personal bank account while disputing every marketing idea I had.
Our first year was a total nightmare, and when our sales barely equaled expenses and she was ready to jump ship, I jumped on the chance to push her out of the business altogether.
I’d gone into business with her in order to offset the scary investment required to launch a business like this.
And to avoid having to ask my family for money.
But I ended up crawling to my brothers for a loan to buy her out—and that whole debacle was imprinted in their mind as evidence that I have no idea what I’m doing and can never be trusted with business decisions ever again.
Never mind the fact that I have long since paid them back.
And while this reality TV show might be a one-way ticket to the next level, I have a sneaking suspicion my brothers aren’t going to see it that way.
Somehow I make it through the noisy, slow workday.
When it’s time to close down at six, my head is pounding.
I can already envision all the zeroes my invoice to Kru will have for the damages related to surviving his construction-related racket.
Once I’m in the shrouded sanctuary of my second-floor apartment, I feel some of the tension leave my shoulders, only to be replaced by a recurring donkey kick of realization.
I need to move ASAP.
Whatever tension I had from the work day has now multiplied.
Kru sure knows how to ruin my day and my week.
I sigh heavily, looking at the meager stash of boxes I’ve managed to assemble since he dropped the bomb on my cozy little above-shop life.
I need help. Not just with packing, but finding somewhere to live.
My phone rings. I have a sinking feeling in my gut before I even look at the phone, and the name on the screen confirms my spidey sense.
It’s Griff.
I answer hesitantly. “Hey, brother.”
“Sup, Pipes?”
“Just getting home from work,” I say, sinking into my green velvet love seat near the door. One of my most treasured thrift finds.
“Aren’t you normally still at the shop?” he asks.
“Yeah, I’ve just got so much left to do,” I say, then snap my mouth shut.
I haven’t told anyone in my family yet about the kicking-out.
I feel it’s best to drop one life-altering bomb at a time with my brothers, at a rate of about a month per piece of bad news.
I’ve learned the hard way what it means to grow up with four hawkish, father-like older brothers.
They can’t find out about my needing to move until after it happens, since they’re already incensed by the purchase of the building.
“What’s going on?”
“Nothing.”
A tense silence emerges. “Then what is there to do?”
“Nothing. I don’t know. It’s just a phrase.”
“A phrase.” The way Griffin repeats my words back to me tells me exactly how full of shit he thinks I am.
“Yeah. Like English.”
His haughty chuckle begins slowly, but it quickly picks up steam. “You are so full of shit.”
I bristle, glad that he can’t see me, because he’d read my body language and know he was right. He’s just two years older than me but sometimes I felt like we were twins growing up. “What did you call for?”
“Just wanted to check in on my little sis after the big news on Wednesday. That landlord still being a piece of shit?”
It takes everything in me to bite my tongue. But I can’t hold it all back entirely. “Well, he burst through my back wall today…”
“What?”
“Something about fire code and the emergency egress.” I sigh. “Our shops are going to be unified at the back. I’ll be conjoined twins with him. Griff, this is a nightmare.”
“Wait, he literally broke through your back wall?” he repeats.
“Yes! With a hammer or whatever.” I remember the way his forearms flexed as he stepped through the hole in the wall and frown. The mischief and innocence in his smile will haunt me for longer than I want to admit.
“Oh my god. Let me talk to this guy.”
“Don’t. It’s pointless. It’s part of the fire code and it must be done—”
“Yeah, so he’s telling you ,” Griff says. “Pipes, he’s probably trying to run you out of there. You have a lease, right? Well, what’s more convenient than an ending lease he doesn’t renew? A suddenly vacant second half of the building for him to use however he wants!”
His words land harder than the hammer that broke through my back wall earlier today. I’d not considered this possibility. The idea makes me sick. “You think he’s trying to push me out?”
“It sounds a little fucking suspicious, don’t you think?
Who needs to just burst through a wall? Next thing you know, he’s gonna be reclaiming parts of your shop.
Then suddenly you lose the whole back room.
He probably plans to make it extra uncomfortable for you, so he can have the whole place to himself. ”
Lightbulbs are going off. “Oh my god. You’re right! This makes so much more sense for why he’d want the apartment upstairs too—”
“Want what?”
I clamp my mouth shut, realizing I’d leaked the bad news without meaning to. I can hear my heart thumping in my chest. My entire face goes hot. Fuck.
“Say what now?” is all I can muster.
“It sounded like you said…he wants your apartment too?”
Silence throbs between us for a few beats. “I mean…”
“Jesus, Piper, you’re doing it again! What the fuck is going on?”
I crumple against the couch. I can’t keep this up any longer. I backed myself into a corner, and I need to face the big brother music. “Ugh, fine. He’s kicking me out of the apartment.”
“Excuse me? ”
I groan. “Yes. I have five—no, three—more days to move. I’ve started packing. I’m leaving. He’s renovating it and moving in—”
“Dude, Piper. I don’t even know where to begin with everything you just said. Where the fuck are you going to go?”
The phone slips away from my face after that question. But it doesn’t matter. Because I know he’ll hear me as I shout my response. “I don’t knoooow!”
I put the phone on speaker because I can’t handle hearing his incredulity right next to my ear drum. “When the fuck were you going to mention this?”
“After I had found another apartment.”
“Which would be when? After you spent a few weeks living on the sidewalk outside The Daily Grind? Jesus. This is insane. Why didn’t you show him your rental contract?”
I drag my hands down my face, melting off the couch. This is the throbbing heart of the matter. The major fuck up that I, the youngest Keegan, am known for. The thing they all saw coming. The detail they’ll hold over my head for the next four decades. “I didn’t sign one.”
Griff sighs.
Silence pounds all of his unspoken sentiments into me.
“So you’ve been living there for three years…” he begins.
“Without an agreement, yes ,” I clarify. “I never imagined Mr. Lobster would breeze in from Cleveland to start some reality restaurant, so you’ll have to forgive me for not foreseeing this.”
He sighs again, which just makes the disappointment burrow deeper.
“I really don’t need to hear your well-meaning criticism right now,” I start.
“That’s not what I’m trying to do,” he grumbles.
“Well, I know it’s coming and you can save it,” I snap. “I already feel like an idiot, I don’t need you making me feel like more of one.”
“You’re not an idiot…”
“It sounded like you were about to add a ‘but’ there.”
“But would it kill you to think about this shit next time?” he finishes.
I groan, snapping up the phone. “Okay, I’m done. Thank you for calling. Goodbye.”
Before I can swipe the phone off, Griff says, “Wait, Piper. I’m really not trying to be an asshole. I have an idea.”
My finger is a hair’s breadth away from the End button. “What is it?”
“Move in with me.”
I blink a few times, everything in my body rejecting this idea. “No.”
“Why not?”
“Because you’re my older brother, and I might be desperate but I’m not that desperate. I already lived with your stinky hockey pants once; I don’t need to do it again.”
“And I’m pro now, so I have people who take care of that for me, you know.” A chuckle rumbles out of him. “It wouldn’t be so bad living with me. It can be temporary. I just can’t stomach the thought of you having nowhere to go.”
My gaze drops to the old brown carpet of my living room. It’s truly an eyesore and needed replaced probably twenty years ago. “I don’t know, Griff.”
“You’d rather be homeless than live with me? Wow…”
“It’s not that,” I hurry to add. “I just…I can do things on my own, okay? I don’t need you or the others to come swooping in—”
“We’re not controlling jerks,” he snipes.
“I didn’t say you were a controlling jerk,” I hiss. “Even if you’re using the exact words a controlling jerk would use. I’m saying I’d like to do this on my own.”
As soon as the words leave my mouth, I know how foolish I am to pass up an opportunity like this. I have a soft landing pad. A way to ride out the storm.
Griff must be able to read my thoughts due to our twin-like nature because he says, “You like making things hard on yourself. I know. But listen. Living rent-free with your big brother for a month or two isn’t the end of the world.
Besides, I’m barely here. I might be injured this season, but I still go to practices and games.
You work full-time. It’s not like we’ll be up each other’s asses.
Maybe you could do me a favor and just say yes because then I wouldn’t worry about you freezing your ass off on the sidewalk once the cold weather really hits. ”
I can’t fight the smile. I roll my eyes, even though he can’t see me. “So now I’m doing you a favor.”
“Yes. Relieving me of my big brother worry. Listen, I’ll even go a step further and not tell Dane, Jett, or Asher the real reason you’re moving in with me.”
I swallow hard. That’s a pretty sweet deal. “What about Mom?”
He tuts. “You know I gotta tell her. But I’ll swear her to secrecy.”
I weigh the offer. He makes sense—of course he does. All of my big brothers know best, which is exactly the problem. “You promise you won’t let the rest of them find out?”
“Swear.”
The last of my reservations float away. This is a huge weight off my shoulders, and the deepest parts of me are so relieved. “Deal.”
I can hear the smile in his voice as he says, “I’ll bring over some boxes tomorrow morning and I’ll get you packed up… roomie .”