2. Rory
RORY
Delighted cherub faces stare at me as I peek over the edge of the book. When I reach the last page, I lower my voice to a hush. “And that night, as she listened to rustling leaves in the great oak above her, she realized there’s no better place than home. The end.”
Everyone claps, and my grin grows. I can admit I suck at talking with adults, but reading to kids? That’s my happy place.
Children scramble up from the plush, colorful rug of the kids’ section of the library, scattering to find their parents.
Mothers help their little ones into jackets and usher them out the door and into the rain, their parade of umbrellas whizzing by the giant bay window.
Paige and her daughter Ella are the last ones here as I put the chairs back where they belong.
“Do you guys need a ride home? I need to tidy up the library for a few minutes, but I’m happy to drive you.”
Paige tucks a red strand of hair behind her ear. “Thanks, but Rhett will be here soon.” She glances out the window. “I can’t believe this hasn’t let up. I swear it’s been almost two weeks of this crazy weather.”
“Will you be able to make it tonight?” I brace myself for rejection, but her response surprises me.
“Wouldn’t miss it. In fact, I need to get home so I can make my dish. Did you come up with the idea for a soup swap? Because I am in desperate need of some new recipes.”
“I can’t take credit for it. I saw it on Pinterest and thought it looked fun.”
When her husband arrives, I lock the door behind them and return to my desk to shut off the computer.
Despite the foul weather, I’m in a good mood as I drive home. It’s only a few blocks, but I’d be soaked if I attempted to walk it. Generally, though, I don’t mind the rain. It gives me a reason to stay home, make a cup of tea, and read.
Who am I kidding? I don’t need a reason to do that.
The library is located on Main Street in downtown Wild Heart, next to the Honeybee Hideaway where the coffee is terrible but the pie is to die for.
Here, quaint shops, boutiques, and restaurants nestle in historic buildings that line both sides of the street.
A block down the road is the courthouse and the town square park, which features a lovely gazebo.
It’s quiet today, the rain keeping most people home, but that gives me the chance to appreciate the charm of this town. As I turn into my neighborhood, I smile at the beautiful Victorians with wraparound porches.
But when I pull into the parking lot, my smile drops off my face when I see that douche’s silver BMW parked in front of my apartment building.
Shortly after Baylee’s wedding, I put it together.
I’d been complaining to Baylee about my landlady’s son, the one who’d been ignoring maintenance requests and collecting rent while she recovered from a surgery.
Baylee went quiet for a second before saying, “Wait. Silver BMW? Vance Kozlov? He crashed my wedding.”
She pulled up a photo on her phone, and there he was. The same guy I’d overheard talking to Jace in the next-door suite. The one who’d called me a dog while Jace said nothing.
I used to think of him as Bruh or Douchebag, but I now know his name is Vance.
After I park, I squint past my wiper blades that are losing the fight against the rain. I don’t see him in the foyer. Now’s my chance.
I don’t bother opening my umbrella, just throw my bag over my shoulder and race across the lot, praying I can make it to my apartment before Vance makes an appearance. I’m halfway to the door when I remember he still hasn’t given me my new lease. Dang it. Maybe I should track him down.
The thought distracts me long enough that I don’t see the rock in my path. A half-second later, I’m airborne.
I brace myself for the fall, but I land in a huge puddle, and my glasses go flying. My forearms and knees take the brunt of my fall, and holy shit, it hurts.
Groaning, I roll over onto my side, which dumps my bag in the water.
“Oh, bruh. Look at you,” a voice booms. “Haha, shit, that was quite a dive. The Russian judge gives you a two.”
Large hands grab me under my armpits. Vance drags me the last few steps to my apartment building and deposits me by the mailboxes near the foyer, where I slump to the floor in pain.
He chuckles. “And I thought you were mousy-looking when you were bone dry. You look like a drowned rat now. Damn, you’re bleeding everywhere. Hope that doesn’t stain.”
You’re a stain on humanity, Vance.
Shivering, I glance up at him just in time for him to snap a photo of me with his phone. “Wha—what are you doing?”
“This is too funny to not get a pic.”
My eyes sting, and I bite my inner cheek so I don’t cry. That would probably make this asshole’s day. My general response to bullies is to hide, but there’s nowhere to go. He’s blocking the path to my apartment.
Vance scratches his chin. “Listen, I’m glad I caught you. I have a form I need you to sign.”
Anything to make you go away.
I sniffle and nod. When he hands me a pen and clipboard, I can’t quite make out the text at the top, but when I squint, I see the signatures of the other tenants. Dang. My glasses are probably at the bottom of the parking lot puddle right now.
I hold it away to read the print. Notice to Vacate. Oh my God, no.
He taps my soggy shoe with his black boot. “It confirms I told you, personally, that you have until the end of your lease to move.”
My lease ends in a few weeks. If I had to guess, it’s about thirty days away, and this asshole waited until the last minute to give me warning. Reluctantly, I sign it.
His smug grin grows. “I’m selling the building. Gonna send my mom to Boca for a little rest and relaxation. Get her out of my hair, you know?” He snatches the clipboard out of my hand. “Be sure to clean up your blood, m’kay? Don’t want the new owners to complain I left a mess.”
He tucks the clipboard under his arm and jogs to his car.
I sit there, shivering, staring after his taillights. I think about what Jace said at the wedding—tell her to sell it, the market’s hot—and a fresh wave of humiliation washes over me that has nothing to do with the puddle.
It took me months to find this apartment. How am I supposed to find a new place to live in weeks?
Back in my apartment, I stand in the shower under the hot water until my trembling stops. Afterward, I grab a bottle of antiseptic and dab the scrapes on my knees and forearms.
I can do this. I’ll make soup for my friends, and it’ll take my mind off this dumpster fire of a day. It’s fine.
An hour later, I cross my small kitchen to grab the chopped herbs before I dump them in with the hamburger meat on the stove. I’d been so excited to host tonight, and now every small movement hurts like the dickens.
By the time the soup is done, I’m ready to collapse on my futon, but someone knocks on the door. Gingerly, I limp across my apartment to answer. I take a deep breath to compose myself as I flip open the lock.
When my friends see me, their matching smiles morph into frowns.
“Are you okay?” Baylee is the first one through the door. She plunks her casserole dish on the counter and returns to me. “What happened?”
I must look worse than I thought. “I took a spill outside.”
Paige joins her best friend and juts out her bottom lip. “Did you break your glasses?”
I finger the tape in the corner. “Unfortunately.” I spot Honey waiting in the doorway. “Please come in. Make yourselves at home.”
Honey holds up a bottle. “I brought some wine. I can’t drink right now, but I thought you guys might enjoy it.”
She’s pregnant and glowing and newly engaged to Beau Walker. I ignore the twinge of jealousy because I want to be happy for my friend.
I’m not much of a drinker, but I might indulge tonight. “Thank you. Let’s get our dinner set up, and then I’ll tell you what happened.”
Once we get the casserole dishes out, I put several mugs on the table. “Help yourselves to each soup, or if you’re just in the mood for one, that’s fine too. After dinner, I’ll give everyone recipe cards, and we can jot down the recipes for the dishes we enjoyed.”
Baylee points to my chair. “Sit. Take a load off, and I’ll serve you. I’m gonna get you started with my mom’s chicken tortilla soup. I’ll admit I cheated and let her make it, but her food is always better than mine for some reason.”
When she hands me a mug full of steaming soup, I close my eyes and breathe in the fragrant spices. “I already know this is going to be delicious.”
After we dig in, I tell them my sob story about my fall and Vance selling the building.
Baylee’s eyes narrow. “That slimeball. I knew he was trouble the second I spotted him at my wedding.”
I shrug, feeling awkward. My three friends are with Walker brothers, and I don’t want to sound like I’m disparaging one of them. “He’s, uh, I think he’s friends with Jace. I overheard them talking.”
“Hmm.” Baylee watches me for a hot minute. “What’s that look?”
I lean back. “What look?”
She motions to my face. “That one.” Her brow lifts. “Dish, girl. If Jace said something dumb, we have your back. I love my brother-in-law, but I’ve never let him get away with being an asshole.”
Fortunately, since the wedding, I’ve been able to avoid him. Out of sight, out of mind.
His friend is another story.
I rest my forehead in my hands and sigh.
“Seriously, it was nothing.” I don’t want to start any drama.
To my horror, my eyes sting, and I sniffle.
“But today, Vance said I’ve always looked like a mouse, but sitting in a puddle, I looked like a drowned rat.
Then he took a photo because he thought it was hilarious. ”
My friends voice outrage and conspire to get even, brainstorming an array of methods, including leaving an open can of tuna under his back seat. It makes me feel a little better.
I’m actually smiling by the time they leave. I feel lucky to have made some friends in a new town.
I guess I can’t say I’m new to Wild Heart anymore. I’ve lived here for a few years, but I still feel like the newcomer. I was so busy finishing my degree and trying to make ends meet when I first moved here, I didn’t have time to socialize, not that I’m particularly good at that.
But Baylee, Paige, and Honey showed up tonight with casserole dishes, wine, and righteous indignation on my behalf. Maybe that’s what makes a place home. Not how long you’ve been there, but who shows up when you fall in a puddle.