Chapter 5 #2
“Uh-huh. If that’s your story,” she says, then shifts in her chair. “Okay, it’s been a while. Everyone gives a quick update. Married life. Business.” She whispers, leaning closer, “Any good sex?”
Grace immediately blushes, the pink spreading across her cheeks as she fiddles with her napkin. I scoff, picking at my food. “Not married off like you two, and no prospects in sight.”
“Fine. No sex talk. I’ll start.” She sits up straighter, practically glowing with excitement that she seems barely able to contain. “Miles and I have been talking, and we’re designing serious plans for opening Mountainside Java at the Lakewood Ski Resort.”
“That’s wonderful,” Grace says, reaching across to squeeze Barrie’s hand. “It will be a success with you two behind it.”
Suddenly, I’m dreading my turn. I’ll try my hardest to put a positive spin on my life.
My friends are beautiful and found wonderful husbands.
Good for them. Marriage, love, babies, it’s not for me.
I’ve already determined that. I refuse to think about a future where I barely see them, where our girls’ nights become increasingly rare as their lives fill with family obligations.
“What about you, Grace?” Barrie asks, even though she probably knows the answer because Barrie helps Grace with the marketing for her wedding dress store. It’s called Princess Designs.
“I don’t love the commute,” Grace says, smoothing her napkin, “but placing the business down in Concord was the right decision. More people. I’m hoping to expand. Maybe hire a store manager so I can work more from home.”
“Wonderful idea.” Barrie turns toward me, her expression expectant, waiting.
Great, here I go. Miss positive. I might as well be honest. If I can’t be honest with friends, then what’s the point?
The words stick in my throat for a moment before I push them out.
“I’ve recently learned the gallery is struggling.
We have the next few events to improve profits, or it will probably close. ”
There, I said it. I was honest and truthful with friends.
Of course, my thoughts immediately go to you-know-who.
The heat rises up the back of my neck as I relive the humiliation of being stuffed in the bathroom with him.
The way he couldn’t stand being close to me.
Like I was a germ or something. It was immediate revulsion, written in every tense line of his body.
I want to tell them I was assigned a mentor, and tell them who it is, but I think I’ll wait. Maybe just tell Barrie later, when we’re not all together.
Barrie visibly grows excited, her eyes lighting up. “You mean...you’ll need late-night brainstorming sessions with too much coffee and cookies for fuel?”
I smile—because I can with my friends. “If it’s not too much to ask. Especially if you’re busy with Mountainside Java.” Hey, if the gallery doesn’t work out, I can always become a barista and make grilled cheese. The thought isn’t as depressing as it should be.
“No way. You know I love this kind of stuff. I don’t care if we meet at midnight. You were my first friend here and I couldn’t have made it without you.”
I smile at her, thinking back to the day she arrived in town wearing a torn wedding dress and wanting to start over. “The events aren’t decided, so I have a lot of freedom with what to do. Out-of-the-box ideas. A way to attract new customers.”
“Love it,” she says, already looking like she’s mentally planning.
“You won’t regret it,” Grace confirms, her voice warm. “The ideas we’ve molded and expanded on for my store...” Her sentence dwindles to nothing. An expression of dislike crosses her face, her shoulders tensing visibly.
“What’s wrong?” I ask, because with them, I’m allowed to ask personal questions.
“It’s him,” she says with disgust, her voice dropping. “Seymour Black. I don’t know why he’s in town and I don’t want to know.”
Immediate tingles shoot down my spine. I’m back in the bathroom with him standing behind me, his presence overwhelming in the tiny space.
The way he stiffened with disdain. Back in the upstairs meeting room, his voice cool and professional as he volunteered to be my mentor—I believe just to torture me.
Okay, he helped with Darren Meade. I’ll give him that. Then there are the rules.
I don’t want to turn and look, but I’m curious.
He’s sitting at the bar with a friend. Several things jump out at me at once.
He looks good. I mean really good with black slacks and a button-up blue shirt that fits him perfectly.
It’s simple, but he’s clearly the most attractive man in the room, and possibly the most hated.
Then he smiles. Actually smiles. Is that a laugh I just heard?
So, it’s just me.
“Interesting,” Barrie says, her voice carrying that tone that means she’s piecing something together. “Seymour and Mandy had lunch together today.”
Grace reaches across the table and grabs my hands. “If I can pass on any other warning to a friend, let it be this. Stay away from him.”
“It wasn’t lunch,” I say, pulling my hands back. “It was a chance meet up.”
“I don’t care,” Barrie points out. “It still happened.”
I sigh, the weight of the day settling on my shoulders. Might as well tell them. “Diana brought on Seymour to help with the gallery.” No need to fill in the details about mentoring or rules or bathroom encounters.
“Oh no,” Grace says, genuine sympathy in her voice. “I’m so sorry.” She sends him a scathing look across the room. “But he does have a history of turning businesses around. Take advantage of him, then walk away.”
“Does he have a string of broken hearts in his past?” I ask, the question slipping out before I can stop it.
“Ha!” Grace gives my hand another squeeze before withdrawing it. “I can’t remember him ever having a dating relationship, or he keeps it hidden. Maybe he makes his dates sign a nondisclosure agreement so they can’t put anything on socials.”
Something inside me falls. I haven’t been on a date in five years, and I’m pretty certain it’s me.
People could easily say about me what Grace said about Seymour.
Except, I have reasons. Once you’ve been burned, you know how to protect yourself.
It makes me wonder if Seymour has something like that in his past. A reason for his icy demeanor, for the walls he builds with his rules.
“I’d just like to point out that I thought Miles was the biggest grump ever when I met him,” Barrie says, her voice gentle but firm. “Maybe there’s more to Seymour than we know.”
Grace barks out a laugh. “Seymour Black is not Miles. Trust me.”
“Well, you sure won my brother’s heart.” Scott hadn’t dated in years. Turns out he never fell out of love with Grace and couldn’t move on.
Grace’s hard look and words about Seymour melt away. In its place is a heartwarming smile. One could say it’s gooey. “I love him so much.” She leans forward, her voice dropping to a whisper, “I’ve heard that Seymour has rules.”
I perk up immediately, my spine straightening. Rules?
“Yes, rules. Like ridiculous ones.” She shrugs. “It might be just rumors, but please, let’s talk about something else. Let’s not let Seymour Black ruin our night.”
I fear that he already has ruined the night, his presence at the bar like a shadow over our conversation. I was also quick to set up rules when it came to interacting with him. Seymour hopped on board like it was a train heading to a golden city. He liked the idea of rules. Why did I set rules?
To protect myself.
Is that what Seymour does?
It dawns on me that he might have reasons. Just like I do. I feel suffocated and uncomfortable with this truth. “Let’s pay the bill and catch the sunset down at the lake.”
We pay and head outside. Yes, we have to pass Seymour, but I refuse to look at him or acknowledge his existence. That’s why my gaze drifts to his friend.
It’s like a punch in the stomach, the recognition instant and brutal.
I feel woozy, the room tilting slightly as the past crashes into the present. Then comes a rush of hatred, hot and immediate, followed by hurt that feels as fresh as it did five years ago.
It’s Todd Stane.
Or, I should say, Alexander Silvano, because that’s the name he goes by now.