Chapter 28 - Annika
Turn the Page is packed, which means the first monthly Books & Brews night is a huge success.
Partnering with the local brewery was an innovative way to bridge the gap between two groups with different interests, drawing new patrons to both businesses.
It also just happened to set the perfect backdrop for my little surprise.
I was a bundle of nerves when I showed up tonight, but my friends have reassured me over and over again that they have my back.
So now I’m hustling around the store, answering questions, while Lane runs the counter.
Cassidy is playing greeter, guiding people in the right direction.
Having them here makes the tumbling of my belly slightly more tolerable.
The guys are notably absent. At least for now.
While it’s quiet, I take a moment to pull out my phone, checking to see if The Grapevine has any news for me.
I snort, but the butterflies in my belly go into overdrive because I know exactly who that is, and there’s no way in hell I’m telling Gertie shit.
When the bell above the door chimes, Cassidy’s voice raises at least two octaves, becoming so sickeningly sweet that I know there’s only one person who could’ve just walked in.
Frederick is striding my way, wearing a pair of khaki pants, a white polo, and a navy suit coat.
He looks better suited for an afternoon at the country club or high tea with aristocrats than drinking beer and browsing books with the quirky residents of Cedar Vale.
Although the black eye, with its horrid shades of purple and yellow, throws off the vibe.
“Annika, I’m so glad you’ve finally come to your senses.”
He runs his hand down the length of my arm, and I fight the urge to pull away as my skin begins to crawl. I’m glad the guys can’t see him. No doubt Roscoe would firmly shove a boot up his ass for touching me.
“I’m glad you agreed to meet with me. With tonight’s event happening, I couldn’t get away.”
His eyes scan the room, his disgust clear in the wrinkling of his nose and the curl to his lip. “Do we really have to talk here?”
“I’m just waiting for our special guest to arrive, then I’m free.”
He doesn’t question the special guest—or my choice of wording—probably because in his mind, anyone our poor little podunk town would consider special wouldn’t so much as register as noteworthy on his radar.
“Fine. Then let’s go to the back.”
He moves to take my hand, but I sidestep him. His brow creases, and the pinch to his lips tells me he’s not pleased. But there’s no way in hell I’m going anywhere private with this lunatic, and the back room is currently off limits.
“Follow me. There’s a quiet space in the front.”
I lead him toward the self-help section in the front-most corner of the store, knowing there’s no chance anyone will be up there.
Cedar Vale residents will never admit something is wrong with them, so the last thing they’d ever consider doing is reading a book that tells them how to fix what they refuse to even acknowledge is wrong. It’s small-town denial 101.
The din from the main area is softer near the front window, and fortunately for me, the position still provides a line of sight to the main entrance.
I’m so busy rehearsing the plan in my head that when I turn around, I realize my mistake too late.
Frederick boxes me in against the bookshelf, heavily leaning into my personal space.
“I can’t tell you how happy it makes me that you’ve finally come to your senses. You’re mine, Annika, and once I get you back to Milan, we can finally put the past behind us and look toward our future.”
He comes in for a kiss, and panic rises up sharp and fierce.
My hand flies up to cover his mouth with a little more force than intended, producing a loud smack that stuns us both.
His face morphs into a mask of fury, and I know I need to calm him down before he does something stupid. The guys would kill him.
“I’m so sorry. I just… I think we need to discuss some things first.”
Ducking under his outstretched arm, I heave a relieved breath. That was way too close for comfort.
“Okay.” He slips one hand into his pocket, the other rubbing over the burgeoning handprint on his face. “What would you like to discuss?”
My mind races. I have no desire to discuss anything with him. I just need to stall long enough that my entire plan can fall into place. But with each passing second, I can feel my shoulders tensing and a headache blooming at the base of my skull.
Just a little bit longer, I tell myself, eyeing the clock like I can make the seconds tick by faster. He should’ve been here by now.
“Annika, I’m slowly losing my patience, darling.”
He leans his upper back against the bookshelf, crossing his heels like he’s enjoying a casual show.
I decide I might as well just be honest and hope that I’m saved before he goes thermo-nuclear on me in the middle of a store full of people ready to enact some small-town justice.
Lord knows he hasn’t made any friends during his short time here.
“I need to be honest with you, Frederick…”
His eyes narrow dangerously.
“I’m not going back to Italy.”
There’s a moment of silence where I’m wondering if maybe I should’ve just bullshitted a little bit longer. Too late now, I guess.
“You want us to stay here?”
I narrowly avoid an eyeroll.
“No. We’re officially done. There will be no us, and I won’t be going with you when you leave.”
“You little bitch,” he growls, pushing off the bookshelf. “You’re gonna stay with them?”
I stumble back, but before he can so much as take a single step, there’s a flash of movement, followed by Frederick’s piercing shriek.
That’s when I see a furry body and two spindly black paws clinging to Frederick’s head, using his hair to maneuver around to his face. Hemingway is hissing like a feral beast, his snout brushing against the ex-hole’s nose.
“It’s the fucking racoon! Get him off me!” Frederick screams.
By this point, the entire store has stopped what they were doing in order to see what all the fuss is about. They can sense gossip like a shark senses blood.
Frederick unsuccessfully tries to unlatch Hemingway’s grip on his hair, but the little fella is brandishing those fistfuls like the rat in Ratatouille. The two of them are jarred around, almost unnaturally, back into the shelves, sending books tumbling and breaking trinkets.
There’s a sudden presence at my back, and I know without a doubt who it is. There are only five people on this planet who have ever made me feel safe and loved, and right now, three of them are here. Frederick’s time is up—special guest or no.
“Aww, look, Hemingway is humping Sir Dickwad’s face,” Carson quips, drawing snickers from the crowd. “And I think he likes it.”
Frederick manages to get Hemingway by the scruff of the neck, pulling him off and holding him in mid-air. The raccoon’s teeth are bared, and there’s an unnatural hiss coming from his throat. Those gathered begin to whisper, almost disguising the chime of the bell above the door.
But I hear it.
And I know what’s coming next based solely on the clacking of expensive leather loafers on the hardwood floor.
“I’m going to fucking kill this filthy rodent, then I’m going to destroy you, Annika Reed. I’ll own this store, the entire goddamn street, and hell, I’ll even own you! I’m going to enjoy watching the three bastards clinging to your filthy panties wallow in their pitiful little ruined lives. I—”
“What in the hell do you think you’re doing?” comes a distinguished voice from close by.
Elijah Van Buren—aka Papa Van Buren—steps up next to me, wearing a navy three-piece suit, complete with cufflinks and a scarf in the pocket. Fury is written into every line and groove of the older man’s face, and I’m forced to hold back the glee that’s aching to break free.
The entire room has gone silent as they wait to see what’s going to happen next.
Frederick’s eyes are wide and panicked, his face paler than I’ve ever seen it—especially when he notices the two serious-looking gentlemen behind Elijah, wearing matching black suits, black sunglasses, and ear pieces.
They continually scan the room as if some assassin is going to bust out of the Sci-Fi section and take out their boss.
“Unhand that raccoon this instant!” the elder Van Buren demands.
Like a scolded toddler, the ex-hole sets Hemingway on the ground. Obviously feeling very affronted, the mischievous little dude squats right on top of Frederick’s shoe and relieves himself.
“You little son of a—” With a loud snapping of fingers, Frederick immediately shuts his mouth and straightens.
“Frederick Alan Van Buren, what do you have to say for yourself?” Elijah snarls.
“Why was I under the impression that you were here for a voluntary reconciliation with Ms. Reed—who, by the way, is the single best thing that ever happened to you. And yet, per the reports I’ve received, you have been stalking, harassing, and attempting to use blackmail to get her to return home with you. ”
“Father, I swear, it’s not what it looks like. Annika’s been—”
“Enough. Annika is a grown woman with more respect and kindness in her pinky than you contain in the entirety of your soul. We have apparently indulged you for far too long. As of this moment, you are a disgrace, and your inheritance is indefinitely suspended until such time as I determine you have learned the error of your ways and shown proof of such.”
“But, Father—”
Elijah holds up his hand. “I was not finished. With you out of the picture, Ms. Reed is now free to do whatever she pleases, which will hopefully include living a long, prosperous, and happy life.” He turns to me, taking both of my hands.
“My dear girl, I apologize profusely for the actions of my offspring. Before my son completely ruined his chances with you, I had hoped you would become the daughter I never had, and as such, I had my lawyer establish a trust with a rather large sum of money that I had planned on bestowing to you upon your engagement. While things have changed, I would ask that you accept this small token of affection on behalf of the Van Buren family.”
Shaking my head, I squeeze his hands. “Mr. Van Buren, I can’t take your money.”
“Nonsense, my dear. You can, and you will. Consider it compensation and, shall we say, hazard pay for putting up with my no-good son for as long as you did.” He eyes the men standing around me with a discerning eye. “Are you all responsible for her now?”
“Yes, sir,” they reply in unison.
“You hurt her, and you will feel the wrath of the entire Van Buren family. Understand?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Good. Now, one last thing to deal with, then we can be out of your hair, my dear.” He turns, pushes his shoulders back, and stalks over to his son who is cowering like a petulant child. With decisive action, he grips him roughly by the ear.
“Ouch! Father, please. I—”
“Silence!” Elijah barks, marching toward the entrance.
The guys and I follow them out, and it’s then I notice my brother posted up on the sidewalk with a large group of guys, their arms crossed and eyes locked onto the Van Buren entourage.
With the entire room watching in stunned silence, the elder Van Buren guides his son through the throng of people and over to the expensive SUV.
Because this is Cedar Vale, there’s no shame in anyone’s gossip game, so someone behind us holds the door open, letting everyone eavesdrop on the shenanigans playing out in front of them.
“Henry, please enable the childlocks. I don’t want my foolish son to try something stupid on the way to the airport.”
“Yes, sir.”
With very little gentleness, he shoves Frederick into the car, grips the door, and turns back to me.
“Just know, all you have to do is call and I’ll be there, Annika. You have more than earned the respect and loyalty of the Van Burens.”
With a slight nod, I say, “Thank you, Mr. Van Buren.”
His smile is kind. “Please, call me Eli.”
“Thank you, Eli.”
“Best of luck, my dear. Not that I think you need it with those three at your back.”
Before I can respond, he slips into the car and shuts the door. As it pulls away from the curb, I feel the weight of three years’ worth of stress ease off my shoulders.
“Well, that was entertaining.” Carson claps his hands together. “What do we do now?”
Owen grabs my hand, tugging me into his waiting arms. “Now, things are about to get very real with our pretty little neighbor.”
“Is that so?” I murmur, tipping my chin up so I can meet his heated stare.
“Indeed it is. You won’t have to fake a thing when we get you alone tonight,” Roscoe whispers in my ear, the heat of him at my back making tingles break out along my skin.
Dre makes a gagging sound, ruining the moment. “Jesus. I may have accepted this thing you have going on with my sister, but that doesn't mean I want to see or hear that shit.”
My laughter fills the air as I lean back into Roscoe’s chest. “Don’t be jealous, big brother. I’m sure there’s a girl out there who would be willing to put up with your cranky ass too.”
His eyes dart toward the store where Lane is standing like a deer in headlights.
Looks like things are heating up in more ways than one in Cedar Vale. Can’t wait to see how this all plays out…or more than likely read all about it in The Grapevine.
Small towns. Gotta love ‘em.