Chapter 9
Nine
“Good news,” I announce as I climb up into Ryan’s truck, slamming the door behind me.
Turning in the passenger seat, I take him in.
The glasses are back. Nice. He’s dressed more casually today, in dark blue jeans, a blue button-up, and brown Blundstone boots.
He’s so incredibly handsome, and I don’t think he even knows it. “Do you want to hear it?”
“I would like you to put on your seatbelt,” he huffs loudly, shifting into reverse.
“You’re so bossy.” Rolling my eyes, I pull the seatbelt across my body and clasp it. “Happy?”
“Thrilled,” he mutters, without sparing me a glance. “Tell me your news.”
“Carson stopped by last night and told me I can use his nana’s car until I find something new. Isn’t that great?” I say, shimmying my shoulders. “The car isn’t the answer to all my problems, but it solves the immediate one, and I was so surprised when he offered. And grateful. I’m so grateful.”
“He came here to the trailer. Does he do that a lot?” He rubs a hand over his mouth and across his clean-shaven jaw.
“Um, yeah, sometimes,” I confirm, tilting my head to the side. “We like playing Scrabble together. But isn’t that great news?”
He opens his mouth to answer, then closes it briefly before saying, “Really great.”
“Is something wrong? I thought you would be happy for me.” Biting my lip, I shift back in my seat.
“I’m happy,” he says, lifting the corner of his mouth in a quick smile. “It’s great news.”
“He said it will be ready tomorrow afternoon,” I tell him, raising my sunglasses to the top of my head. “Would it be too much to ask for you to pick me up one more time? If you can’t, I’ll totally understand. I can ask Carson or Riot.”
“No. No, it’s fine,” he says quickly, flexing his fingers over the steering wheel. “Like I said before, I’m driving right by.”
“Good.” Man, he’s miserable first thing in the morning.
“Good,” he parrots, keeping his eyes on the road ahead.
Just like yesterday morning, I connect my phone to his Bluetooth and pull up my new ’90s rock playlist that I made last night. I didn’t think of Ryan at all when I made it. Well, maybe a little.
We drive for a few minutes before I ask, “Did you hear that someone spotted Brian Marshal’s car at the motel out on the highway—twice this week? I wonder what that’s about. Do you think he has a girlfriend?”
“I have no idea.”
“Yeah, Carson told me last night.” I chuckle, shaking my head. Brian is always up in everyone else’s business. It gives me great satisfaction that people are talking about him.
“Did he?” he mutters through clenched teeth.
“I see you are undercaffeinated again this morning,” I state, raising an eyebrow.
“Yeah, I guess,” he mumbles under his breath. “Do you want to go to Maggie’s, or can I drop you off at the shop today?”
“The shop’s fine. I’ll see if April wants anything and walk over later.”
He pulls up to the curb beside Inkfluence and puts the truck in park. I turn to look at him and ask, “Is something wrong? You’re grouchier than normal.”
“I’m fine, just tired.” He tries and fails to give me a reassuring smile. “I’ll see you tomorrow morning. Try not to get into any trouble today.”
“That’s a big ask, Pretty Boy.” Leaning over, I give him a quick peck on the cheek—just like I would any of my other friends—and jump out of the truck.
Shutting the door, I raise my hand to wave goodbye.
He watches me, his eyebrows drawn together, before checking his mirror and pulling back onto the street.
Standing on the sidewalk, I watch him drive around the block towards the bakery. Maybe the kiss on the cheek was a little too much. Grinning, I sling my bag over my shoulder and open the heavy door to the studio.
April’s sitting behind the counter with the phone tucked between her ear and shoulder. Rolling her eyes, she says, “No, Braden, she isn’t here. No, I don’t know when she will be in.”
Hearing his name instantly deflates my good mood.
She listens for a moment before saying, “No, I don’t know why she isn’t responding to your text messages.
Perhaps she doesn’t want to talk to you; did you ever consider that?
” She looks at me and shakes her head. “You seriously need to stop calling, okay? If Beck wants to talk to you, she will. Have a good day.”
“What a fucking asshole,” she states, hanging up.
“I’m sorry he keeps calling here. It’s bad enough that he’s blowing up my phone with text messages. He shouldn’t be calling here as well.”
This has been going on for far too long, but I don’t know how I can make it any clearer to him. I don’t want to talk. There’s no money to give. I already pay the rent on a house that I don’t live in and for the truck I don’t drive. I need to save what little I have for next month’s payments.
“Don’t apologize; it’s not your fault. I can deal with him.”
“I know, but you shouldn’t have to.” God, I hate this.
“Is Logan working today?” I ask. The shit that went down with his brother has been rough on him and Hannah. It’s going to take more than a minute for them to work things out.
“No, he’s going to take the rest of the week and come back on Monday.”
When Banks opened Inkfluence in Emerley, people thought he was crazy bringing a tattoo studio to a town this small.
Little did they know, people would travel from all over the country to be tattooed by him.
His talent is unmatched. However, over the past few years, he has become very selective about whom he works with and has cut back the hours he spends in the shop.
We agreed we needed another artist to fill the gaps, but the last guy who rented a chair…
his talent didn’t match his giant ego. He treated Banks and me like competition instead of coworkers.
When you spend so much time together, it’s easier when everyone gets along.
He made the shop uncomfortable, and I wasn’t sad to see him leave.
Logan has been a terrific addition to the team. He’s an amazing artist, and we were lucky to get him. It’s a bonus that he grew up in Emerley, so he understands how small towns operate.
Throwing myself down onto the black leather sofa in the waiting room, I tell her about Carson offering me his nana’s car.
“That’s good news, Beck.”
“I’m so grateful. Hopefully, it’s temporary.”
It’s a huge hit to the ego to need this kind of help from my friends. I know thirty-year-olds who are married and have children. They own their own cars and homes. Then there’s me. At least the Airstream is completely mine.
I appreciate Ryan has been kind enough to drive me to work the past couple of days, but I don’t want to rely on him. Even grouchy Ryan makes it far too easy to lean on him. That’s another reason I’ve tried to keep my distance.
“We should totally celebrate,” April says excitedly, clapping her hands as she comes around the counter and plops down on the couch beside me.
Raising an eyebrow, I say, “You want to celebrate me borrowing Nana Cathy’s ancient car?” The grey Ford Focus is straight out of the early 2000s. I don’t care; beggars can’t be choosers, and it’s still better than my shitty Civic. I’m not sure if it’s a celebratory event, though.
“Sure, why not? It’s always good to celebrate the little wins in life, don’t you think? And,” she draws out, “I want to go to The Riff in Muskoka. It’s a new bar that’s opening, and I don’t want to go alone.”
Twirling my hair around my finger, I crinkle my nose and ask, “The Riff? What kind of name is that?”
“I didn’t name the place; I just want to check it out. Come with me? Please.” She clasps her hands in front of her chest, pleading. “There will be a live rock band playing.”
“I don’t know, April. Muskoka is like an hour’s drive away, and I really don’t have extra money right now. That client cancelling on Tuesday really put a hole in my budget.”
I don’t think she realizes how bad my financial situation has become. None of my friends do. I have been living off Aunt Maggie’s goodwill and the leftovers Ryan left behind for the past two days.
“I’ve already thought about that,” April says, waggling her eyebrows. “We can take my car and then stay the night at the hotel across the street from the bar.”
“No money, remember. I can’t afford to get a hotel room.” I shake my head, leaning back into the couch cushion. This is so embarrassing.
“I’m way ahead of you. I already have a room booked.
” April adjusts her body to sit cross-legged on the couch, facing me.
Pushing her magenta- and blue-streaked blonde hair behind her shoulder, she says, “I know the owner, and he said he will take care of us for the night. Give us the real VIP treatment. You’ll see, it will be amazing. ”
“Let me get this straight. You heard about this great new bar opening, I presume from the owner, you want me to go with you, and you have all the details figured out. How well do you know this guy?”
“Very well,” she assures me. “Please say you’ll come.”
“I see how it is,” I say, absentmindedly tracing my lips with my fingertip. “Well, I guess I wouldn’t mind getting out of town for the night. When is the opening?”
“Friday night.”
“Like tomorrow night?” Dropping my hand to my lap, I reel back with wide eyes. “Jeepers, give a girl some notice.”
“Do you have plans already?” she asks, tilting her head.
“Not really,” I confess. I’m going to Hannah’s cabin for book club on Saturday afternoon, but my Friday night is wide open. Unless you include watching a documentary and eating ramen alone in my trailer.
“Does that mean you will come?” She smiles widely, bouncing in her seat.
“I’ll go.” I laugh. Maybe this is exactly what I need. I can get out of town and forget about everything for the night.
“Hurray,” she cheers, leaning over to hug me. “We will have an amazing time! You won’t regret it.”
I hope not.