Chapter 22
CARTER
The day after Shelby and I had our falling out, I was in my room at Honeyrose, sending emails back and forth between my team.
Things in Ferris hadn’t gone according to plan, but I was nothing if not adaptable.
While we figured out the next best direction, they could start putting together some of the footage they’d gotten.
I couldn’t say if we had gotten all the footage we needed, but I wanted to see what we had. Then I would be able to tell if we needed to make additions.
In between emails, I fielded calls. Allory had other deals going.
We had been making a push into farms and agriculture recently, but that was in addition to all the other companies under the Allory Enterprises umbrella.
We handled real estate, computer tech, and medical devices.
In between calls, I thought about Shelby.
She had enchanted me like no other woman before her. The feisty little farmgirl had planted herself in my heart and real affection had blossomed there. Like the dirt under my fingernails, I couldn’t scrub her away.
If I was smart, I would pack up my shit and get the hell back to Los Angeles. So why was I ready to extend my reservation here for another week?
Mrs. Presley was a sweetheart, but she wasn’t keeping me here. It wasn’t the quick friendship I had developed with Jake and Lila, or the prospect of finding more small farms to partner up with.
It was all Shelby.
I probably should have suspected that the viral post had come from her. And her post had held up a mirror I didn’t want to look into, reflecting back the past sins of the company I had taken over.
The messes weren’t my fault but they were my responsibility now.
Dad had really fucked this town over by closing Whitaker Farms. We owed the entire population an apology.
And even then, what good were words when your family went hungry?
What did any of them care that Allory had profited off the whole deal when they lost their health insurance?
The PR campaign was a good way to counteract bad press, but an even better way would be to do something that earned good press organically. Instead of telling people we were making a positive change, we could just make a positive change.
Instead of covering our ass, we could show the whole world how big and beautiful our ass had become under my leadership. And now I’m thinking of Shelby again.
Focus.
The PR team would hate it, but I sent everyone an email about it anyway, telling them to figure out a concrete, palpable way to help the people of Ferris. It was time for more than talk. I left out the ass metaphor, though.
I heard shouting from downstairs. Without hesitation, I rushed to find out what was going on.
Mrs. Presley was in the foyer and she had a grown man by the ear, which she was yelling into. “How dare you wait this long to tell me?”
“What’s going on here?” I asked, not sure if I needed to defend Mrs. Presley or the man she was assaulting.
She looked up at the guy, who looked to be about my height, although it was hard to tell when he was bent over, grimacing in pain. “Do you want to tell him, Marc Larson, or should I?”
“I can’t be the Easter Bunny this afternoon,” Marc said.
“And why not?” Mrs. Presley asked.
“Because I forgot tonight is my anniversary,” he said miserably.
She let him go and shook her head in disgust. “Poor Gina. Don’t take that wife of yours for granted.”
“I’m not,” Marc said, rubbing his ear. “That’s why I’m spending today getting ready for tonight, not dressed as the Easter Bunny.”
I looked between the two of them with confusion. “Mrs. Presley, I’ve never seen you so worked up.”
“I just take these Easter events seriously. It’s my favorite time of year.” She wrung her hands in worry. “Christmas is great but it’s too cold. Easter is when folks can get outside together as a town.”
“What event are you talking about?” I asked. “Why do you need a bunny?”
Marc chimed in. “This afternoon is the Meet the Easter Bunny event.”
“It’s happening right outside in the town square,” she said, pointing out the B&B windows where people were setting things up. I saw a bunch of giant eggs in pastel colors, a little stage where a band was setting up, and a wide chair that looked like it was meant for the head bunny himself.
“He’s my size,” Marc said, grabbing my attention away from the town square. Was he referring to me? “Have him do it.”
Mrs. Presley spun on me, eyes glittering like a shark’s. “Now there’s an idea.”
I backed up, ready to cover my ears before she grabbed one. “Now hold on just a second.”
Marc saw his chance and he took it, scampering out the front door while she was distracted. Not unlike a bunny. I saw why they had chosen him.
“Carter Allory, don’t you run off now too,” Mrs. Presley said, advancing on me. “I needed an Easter Bunny and here you are. It’s clearly the stars aligning. This is meant to be.”
“You know I’m willing to lend a hand, but I’m no good with kids,” I said, my back hitting the wall. “I’ll probably traumatize them.”
“You don’t have to do anything but sit there for pictures with them,” she said. “You’re not playing Santa. There’s no asking for gifts or dodging delicate questions.”
“Now that I think of it, does the Easter Bunny talk?” I asked.
“Not if he doesn’t want to,” Mrs. Presley said, walking over to the bench where the folded bunny suit was. She picked up the head and passed it to me.
“It’s heavier than I expected.” I looked the bunny in the eyes.
“Your girlfriend will get a kick out seeing you in that,” she said. “If nothing else, she’ll appreciate the effort.”
“And who is my girlfriend?”
Mrs. Presley scowled playfully. “Don’t even try.”
“Shelby’s not my girlfriend.”
“Yeah, yeah. Just be suited up by two, okay?”
“Will do.”
True to my word, I was hopping down the stairs right on time, and I followed Mrs. Presley out into the town square. I had the suit on, but the head was still in my hands. The event wasn’t officially starting for another hour, so I had some time.
People bustled around the big, open lawn, putting the finishing touches on the decorations. Little booths were being set up to sell food and drinks. There were games where kids could win prizes. The band was doing a sound check.
In the center of it all was my seat. More like a throne, the big wooden chair was flanked by two giant carrots.
I poked one and it seemed to be made of light foam material.
People really went all out for Easter week in Ferris.
For me, it was kind of a whatever holiday.
In egg country, it was serious business.
I grabbed myself a red slushie from one of the booths, being manned by some high school band kids raising money for new uniforms. It was syrupy-sweet and delicious. Silly as it might be, I rarely had a chance to get things like this. Most of my meals were ordered in or at a high-end restaurant.
I had never seen some of the things these booths were promising, once they opened up. BBQ-stuffed waffles, fried bacon, pizza cones. I had been missing out. Tempting as everything was, I would have to wait until later.
After I was finished with my bunny business, I would make the rounds of the food booths, eating until I got a stomach-ache like a little kid. Judging from the tantalizing smells, it would be worth any heartburn I might get.
A familiar white van backed into an empty spot beside the town square. I quickly put my rabbit head on before she saw me. I wasn’t hiding from Shelby. I just didn’t know what to say to her.
I wanted to tell her I was sorry, but for the life of me, I couldn’t figure out why. Probably because she was upset, and I didn’t like it when she was upset, even if it wasn’t my fault. All I had done was ask her about the post she had made. I didn’t even yell at her or blow up.
Despite that, I still felt responsible for the distance between us, and I wanted to get things back to how they had been a couple nights back. How could things have changed so dramatically between the bake-off and now?
Shelby got out of the van and came around back to open the doors. Crates of colored eggs were stacked in the back, and a couple of volunteers went over to unload them. With a grin no one could see, I walked over to her too.
“Would you like me to grab your eggs, miss?” I asked, my voice muffled by the suit.
Shelby spun to face me, fire in her eyes. “You better back the hell off, Marc Larson. I’ll pepper spray the Easter Bunny. I don’t play around.”
I chuckled, weirdly pleased by her response. “Relax, Shelby.”
“Tell me to relax again,” she said. “I dare you. I double dare you.”
“I guess I’m just a bad bunny,” I said, leaning closer.
Her eyes widened and then narrowed as she stared at the eyeholes like she could see through the mesh. “Carter?”
“Surprise,” I replied with a dry chuckle.
Shelby threw her head back and laughed. The sound was like a cool breeze over my heated skin. I loved when she laughed like that, free and full of life. And I loved it even more when I was the one who made her laugh like that. It was the sad faces I couldn’t handle.
“How did you end up as the Easter Bunny?” she asked me, still giggling like she couldn’t help herself.
I lifted the head just enough so she could see my face.
People were already showing up with their children and I didn’t want them to see the goober under the mask.
I didn’t know if kids believed in the bunny or if it even mattered, but I wasn’t going to be the guy who made the world a less magical place for these children.
“Marc dropped out and Mrs. Presley wouldn’t take no for an answer,” I said, grinning.
“Oh, my God,” she said, shaking her head. “If I had known, I would have shown up earlier.”
“I almost didn’t tell you at all,” I said with a shrug, suddenly feeling self-conscious and it had nothing to do with the bunny suit.
“’Cause you’re still mad at me?” she asked.
“The only thing I’m mad at is what Allory did here in Ferris,” I said. “You didn’t do anything wrong. You’re allowed to speak your mind. It was all true, anyway.”
She nodded. “Thank you. That means a lot. Maybe you’re more than just a bad bunny.”
“Not when you’re around.”
She looked up at me. “How about I make you dinner tonight?”
That perked me up. Shelby was inviting me to dinner. As excited as I was to try some of the insane delicacies here, none of them could compete with something Shelby cooked just for me. “That sounds nice.”
She flashed me a coy smile. “What do you prefer? Boiled carrots or roasted?”
I rolled my eyes and kissed her quickly. When I pulled away, her cheeks were red and she was looking around like she was worried people would see us. “You can do whatever you want with my carrot.”
Mrs. Presley called over to me, saying it was time to get seated. I left Shelby standing there with her mouth open.