4. Chapter Four
Chapter Four
Trent
B ruce finishes his brief tour of the shop and extends his hand. “I’d be pretty pleased to have Adrian’s son take over the business. I still think of him often.”
“Me too,” I say, accepting his hand.
“There’s just one thing,” Bruce says, rubbing the back of his head, “and I’m not too sure how to phrase it.”
I tense because I’m sure I know, and I’m tempted to assume, to make the transition easier for him.
“Not everyone in the town is going to be welcoming if you take over. I can’t guarantee the business I have is the same one you will.”
“That’d be true no matter who took over.” No one would run things exactly like Bruce, from pricing to service. Some people will always balk at change.
“Some won’t even give you a chance,” he says.
“If I can do this, I’ll throw my whole heart into it, and I might not win ’em all over, but I’ll get enough. I’m confident.” Or not at all confident, but I’m good at faking. False bravado works in almost any situation.
“People might even question where you got the money,” Bruce hedges.
“They’ll be able to follow the trail right to the bank. I’m going to talk to Warren Ferguson right after this. I don’t do any of that shit anymore, Bruce. This isn’t a front for anything.”
“I’ve heard you’re a good worker. You’ve even managed to fix some things I couldn’t find or figure out over the years. The switch to more computerized components and electric cars has been a steep learning curve for me,” he admits.
Whereas I’ve thrown myself into the changes from the minute Maggie worked her magic and secured me the apprenticeship in Utica.
I might not be book smart, but I’m persistent and determined when I’m locked into something more practical, something that has a solution somewhere if only I dig long enough or deep enough.
“Earl’ll miss you in Utica, if you decide to go after this.”
He will, but I don’t admit that out loud.
There’s no one else working for Earl who’ll stay after hours for far longer than necessary to crack a problem.
There have been some advantages in my superficial life—lots of time to get good at work.
And Earl’s been fair with overtime and the bonuses I deserved.
“I’ll let you know when I have the finances secured. You’re hoping to bow out in March?”
“I was going to put the business up for sale in March,” Bruce says. “I can leave later or earlier than that if it works for you.”
“I’ll keep you posted,” I say, shaking his hand again before leaving.
Next stop—the bank.
By the end of my day off, I’ve visited every bank in Little Falls, and then I even went to a few different ones in Utica that I researched online that seemed more likely to lend to me.
The only one who’s offered me a loan at a rate and with terms that seemed even remotely reasonable is Warren Ferguson, and even the interest he’s charging is twice what it should be. This opportunity is a year too early for my background check to be clear of my conviction.
One fucking year.
Since I’m considered high risk as an ex-con with a poor credit rating, the loan terms are shitty, and the interest rate even shittier.
Frustration eats at me as I crack a beer in my apartment.
Grady might have the cash, but I don’t want to ask him.
We’ve only just started getting closer again, and if I’m gambling on taking over the business, I can’t drag him into it.
Family and money rarely mix. Besides, he and Maggie are planning some big renovation of the Whittaker house to turn it into a place Maggie’d want to raise a family. That’s gotta be expensive.
My phone sits beside me, but I don’t know if I can pick it up, send the text I need to write.
With a deep breath, I set down my beer, and I type out exactly what I wish I didn’t have to say.
Timing’s not right. Good luck with the sale.
Immediately, my phone buzzes in my hand with a reply. Sorry to hear that. Probably won’t list until February or March. If anything changes, get in touch.
I’ve exhausted all the legal channels to get the money together, and I’m not putting my future at risk—either through financial or legal gambles or by asking friends and family—to get my dream off the ground.
Another opportunity will come up. Maybe not as perfect as this or with the memories this place has, but I can’t dwell on what won’t happen.
I set my phone down, take another swig of my beer, and curse my foolish youth.
Christmas at the Sullivan residence is an event with a capital E.
The house is decorated as though a professional has done it.
The tree alone must be fourteen feet and stretches into the vaulted ceiling.
The warm wooden tones of the decor are perfect for the festive season, and the massive wooden table that sits between the open plan kitchen and living room only increases the grandeur.
On a normal day, the Sullivan house is impressive, but the festive season makes it more so.
Christmas music is playing softly through the speakers around the house, and Joanna has lit candles that make the air smell like cinnamon and spice.
My mom is already here, talking to Joanna and drinking mulled wine as the two of them prep the food.
Emily told me that Lila and her family normally come to dinner too, but they decided to have their celebrations in New York.
Maybe that’s legitimate, since Christmas isn’t a big celebration for her family.
Lila told me once that she celebrated lots of American traditions with the Sullivan family growing up because it helped her feel like she fit in, but the ones she really cherished were her traditional Chinese ones.
Even still, I can’t help feeling a twinge of guilt that maybe I’m the reason they aren’t here. This is the first year the Castillo family has been invited, because of Grady and Maggie’s renewed connection, and the first year Lila and her family haven’t been here.
When I turn around, Emily and Amir are coming through the door.
Em is wearing a red knit dress that hugs her frame like it was stitched with her body in mind.
From just above the knee all the way to the scooped neckline, the fabric loves every curve.
She makes my short-sleeved button up and jeans look sloppy—not that she’d ever say that.
Not for the first time, it strikes me how criminal it is that someone as beautiful as she is inside and out has struggled to connect with anyone since Omar died. She’s the whole fucking package with a bow on top, and no one seems capable of unwrapping her or taking her home.
Maybe it really is that she doesn’t want the possible heartache again. Romantic relationships are a gamble. Seems like the only explanation.
“Trent!” Amir cries as soon as he sees me. He races over, and I crouch to sweep him into my arms before raising him high.
He laughs, and when I settle him on my side, still in my arms, his grin is contagious.
“Did Santa come to your house too?” he asks.
“All I got was a lump of coal,” I say, feigning a grimace. “Guess I was too naughty.”
“You’re not too naughty,” Amir says with a laugh. “Mom, Trent says he’s naughty.”
Emily shoots me a sly smile, and there’s a small shake of her head, as though she’s internally censoring herself. I flash her a cocky grin, and that only makes her small smile widen.
“I bet in certain situations, Trent is a very naughty boy,” she says to Amir, tickling his stomach, “but he’s always the best with you.”
“And with you,” Amir says to his mom.
“And with me,” Emily agrees, and she runs her hand along my exposed bicep.
The skin-to-skin contact sizzles, as though the lightest touch from her is a brand.
Normally, I ignore the sensation, pretend I don’t feel the heat of attraction.
She doesn’t seem to, and there’s no way I’d ever do anything to jeopardize my relationship with Amir, my friendship with Em.
Both have become sacred in the last year, ever since her dad died.
I bear the scars of what those sorts of feelings can do to a friendship thanks to Lila.
We shared a few drunken kisses, nothing serious, and when Lila pressed for more, I was honest and told her I didn’t have more to give.
But it definitely taught me that mixing friendship with any other feelings was a recipe for disaster.
“You spend your afternoon with Victoria yesterday?” I ask Emily.
“No,” Amir says, answering for her. “Uncle Tyler canceled.”
“That’s true,” Emily says with a slight frown. “Apparently, he’s had the shop closed for the last four days.”
“Is everything okay?” I ask.
“I guess so,” Emily says with a shrug. “Tyler just texted the group chat and said he wanted some dedicated daddy-daughter time, and he was closing the shop early for the holidays.”
The door opens, and Maggie and Grady enter with Grady’s two dogs. Amir immediately wiggles out of my arms to make a break for Hite and Zeus, who are in full body wags at the sight of Amir.
“You should get him one,” I say to Emily.
“A dog?” She gives me an incredulous look. “I view dogs how some people view kids—nice to take on once in a while, but not for me long term. He can get his dog fix at Maggie and Grady’s house. The hair alone…”
“Fair enough,” I say because I feel the same about them. “Amir gets picked up tomorrow to go to his grandparents?”
“Omar’s mom flies in tomorrow, and then they’ll go down to Arizona for the rest of the holidays. They also have a dog,” she says with an amused look. “So he can get his fix there. Though Omar’s parents have a tiny, barky thing. Then Omar’s dad is flying back with Amir just before school restarts.”
“You weren’t tempted to go somewhere too? Or go with him?” I ask because I know how involved Emily is with Amir, how empty her house and life will feel without him for almost two weeks. On Sunday mornings, she’s always at her mom’s bright and early to get Amir when he’s spent the night.
“Running my own business means that holidays take careful planning,” she says. “It’s nice for Amir to have some time with his grandparents without me. Besides, I’m sure Tyler will need help again. He won’t keep the shop closed indefinitely. I’ll sneak in some aunt time to get my kid fix.”
Just then the door opens behind us, and the house goes unexpectedly quiet. When I turn, Tyler is framed in the entryway with Victoria’s car seat in one hand and Mia Malone in his other hand. Her bodyguard, Pasha, stands behind them, huge and intimidating.
“Wow,” I say. “That’s an entrance.”
“Oh my god,” Emily says, recovering the quickest. “We’re so glad you’re here.” She rushes toward them, drawing Mia into a hug.
And that’s another reason why Em is a gem. Even though I know she’s had some conflicted feelings about Mia leaving Tyler and Victoria, she doesn’t hesitate to embrace Mia when she reappears.
Once Emily has Mia in her arms, the rest of the family descends, embracing Tyler and Mia, cooing over Victoria, slotting Mia right back into the family like she never left.
Soon, we’re all sitting around the giant table, passing food, and sharing stories. The dogs, so well trained by Grady, are perched on the front entrance mat, even though I’ve seen Amir try to entice them over with bits of turkey.
“Mia and I wanted to talk to you all,” Tyler says, his tone confident, but his posture definitely less so.
“We both really appreciate how you’ve closed ranks around me and Victoria over the last five months, but I think—to make sure Mia’s able to get that bond with Victoria, for us to get our feet as a family—we’re going to take some space to ourselves for a little while.
When I’m at the shop, Mia and Victoria will either stay home together or come with me and be in the store.
We’re going to try to spend as much time as possible, just the three of us. ”
“Of course,” Joanna, Emily’s mom, says. “We’ll all support you in any way we can, and if that means staying out of the way, we’ll do that.” She glances around the table for any dissention, but I know she won’t find any.
But I can tell from the slight slump to Emily’s shoulders that she’s processing what this will mean for her, for the connection she has with Victoria.
While I also get what Tyler wants and needs, it doesn’t feel quite fair to Emily, Maggie, and Joanna, who’ve poured so much from their own wells to make sure Tyler’s stayed full.
“Just for a while,” Tyler says, trying to make eye contact with Emily.
Maybe he’s not as unaware as I thought.
“I’m really happy for you all,” Emily says, raising her glass. “A toast. To Tyler, Mia, and Victoria and their first Christmas as a family.”
We all raise our glasses in unison, clinking them together, and I make a note to check in on Emily a lot during the next couple of weeks while Amir is away and her time isn’t filled as she expected.