Chapter 17
VICTOR
The ice cream machine ended up being a massive, expensive fix.
It’d been limping along for a while, but when Vivianne came to tell Victor about it, she’d failed to mention it was spewing oil and in its final death throes.
Victor had thrown himself into trying to repair it, but after tearing the thing apart, he’d discovered it was absolutely broken.
Unfixable. The only option was replacement.
It was an expensive machine, which was why he’d been putting off buying a new one.
Now there was no choice. They’d lose sales during their peak season.
If that wasn’t bad enough, one of the deep fryers wasn’t heating.
The combined repairs were depleting all the profits they’d made that month.
With less than a week until the Pumpkin Festival, Victor wouldn’t be able to afford to buy Lizzy out of the diner. The timing couldn’t have been worse.
Even if he managed to scrape together enough for the repairs, replacement, and to buy her out, there were a million other things that needed fixing around the diner.
He’d never get his head above water at this rate without someone like Lizzy to help run the place.
He’d thought he could handle it all, but he was realizing he simply couldn’t.
The way he’d lost control at the café should have been evidence of that.
Victor wanted too much. That was what his creator had told him.
He’d been crafted to be the perfect son, athlete, man.
But his wanting was the problem. His entire life had been planned out for him, but his selfish wants ruined it all.
Ruined his creator’s happiness and his own life, and pushed Lizzy away.
It was time to sell and give up on his useless dreams. Delusion could only carry him so far.
After his planning committee meeting, he was heading over to the local realtor’s office. He’d made up his mind. The staff would be livid. But he’d bear the brunt of their ire, after Lizzy left. She didn’t deserve their anger. He was the one who’d failed.
The realtor building’s brick facade was whitewashed, and there was a bulletin board of properties for sale in the area out front.
With a slow breath, Victor opened the door.
The interior was clean, white, and calm, like a hospital waiting room, with two desks and computers.
One woman sat behind the desk nearest the door, and she stood up as soon as he entered.
“I’m Willow, come take a seat.” She gestured to one of the plush chairs across from her, which would hardly hold his bulk. He sat on the edge.
“How can I help you today? Looking to buy or sell?”
He wrung his hands together. Was he really doing this? Frank Jr. would be so disappointed. Another disappointment, that was all Victor was good for, it seemed. He ran a hand over his face and looked up at Willow.
She gave him a plastered-on smile, waiting expectantly.
“I own Frank’s Diner and the attached single-story home, and I’m looking to sell both.”
“Oh, of course. I know the place, beautiful retro building. I’m sure we could find a buyer in no time. And you’re the full owner?”
“Part owner.”
“Ah, well, before we can put the property on the market, you’ll need to get a signature from the other owner. Could we set up a meeting with all three of us?”
Lizzy had made it clear she didn’t want to stay in Pumpkin Hollow. She’d told him she wanted to sell. But the small voice in the back of his head wondered if he could convince her against it. Even now.
“I can talk to her. I didn’t tell her I was coming here today.”
Willow’s practiced smile slipped just a little. “Well, once you’ve talked about it, let me know.” She handed him a folder full of pre-printed pamphlets about selling.
The meeting was over. Victor got up, shuffled out of her office, and walked back to the diner. His mind was in a haze. He was really doing this. He crinkled the folder as he pulled it tighter to his chest.
Maybe it was time to leave Pumpkin Hollow.
He’d never lived anywhere else. There had never been a desire to.
Brayden was a good student and would likely get into a good college.
He could move closer to him, find kitchen work somewhere…
Who was he kidding? He wasn’t meant for life in the mundane world. They’d never accept him there.
He passed by a curvy woman with black hair having a heated conversation with an invisible person…
Rather than interrupt her, he crossed to the other side of the street.
He’d lived in Pumpkin Hollow long enough to know not to ask questions.
There was always some sort of odd thing happening in this town.
He was so distracted by the woman, wondering who or what she was talking to, he didn’t see Gertrude walking her white dog familiar.
They collided, and to save the old woman from falling down and injuring herself, he dropped his folder onto the sidewalk. Her small dog started yapping, pulling at the leash, running around them, tangling them together.
“Are you hurt?” Victor asked.
“I’m not made of glass. I’m as fit as you, young man.” She tutted.
While her dog barked as if Victor were tearing her apart.
“Enough, Snowflake,” Gertrude scolded him.
The dog fell silent but regarded Victor with malicious, intelligent eyes. Her familiar would be tearing at his flesh if given the chance, he was sure of it.
“Sorry, I wasn’t watching where I was going,” Victor apologized.
“A man in love is often distracted.” She waved her hand in the air.
The words were like salt in his open wound. “Where did you get that impression?” Victor asked.
She narrowed her eyes at him. “We all know you and Lizzy are shacked up together.”
“I wouldn’t call it shacking up.” Victor cleared his throat. “We were cohabiting temporarily, with my teenage son.”
“You can call it what you will. Seems pretty cozy to me.” She waggled her eyebrows at him.
“Well, it’s not. And Lizzy is moving away in a few days.”
“Is she now.” Her sharp gaze zeroed in on the realtor’s folder on the ground. He tried to pick it up to hide it from her, but she plucked them out of his hands quicker than he could move.
She opened the folder and scowled. “You can’t sell Frank’s!” She gasped.
Victor took the folder back from her. “I have no choice. I’m not the only owner.”
“Pfft. Lizzy won’t sell. It was her father’s place.”
“Well, that’s what she wants. It’s either I make enough by Halloween to buy her out, or I have to sell.”
There was a wicked gleam in Gertrude’s eye. “You’re not selling, I’ll tell you that much.”
She shuffled away from him, cackling to herself, and Victor had a sinking feeling he’d just unleashed something he didn’t want to deal with.
He returned to the diner and set the papers in his office, intending to check them over later.
The afternoon line cook was at the flat top, and Victor went into the back room to work on a repair he’d left unfinished while he’d run his errand.
He could have called Lucian, the local handyman, to fix it, but the project gave him time to think and kept his hands busy—two things he needed desperately in that moment.
The pieces of the broken deep fryer were laid out on a tarp, and he worked through them methodically, reassembling the machine bit by bit. If only all his problems were as easy.
He finished his project as the afternoon shift was nearly over.
He would need to head back to the house and make Brayden dinner.
He’d requested pancakes, and Victor couldn’t deny him his favorite meal.
He was carrying the fixed deep fryer components back into the kitchen when he almost ran into Lizzy coming in for her evening shift.
“Sorry, I didn’t know you were in here,” she said.
Victor’s heart stuttered when he saw her. No matter how much he tried to numb the pain or pretend he could keep it casual, he couldn’t bury this wanting. Or ignore the fact that he wasn’t enough for her.
“I was about to head out,” he said.
She backed away, giving him access to the kitchen and fryer bay.
He set down the components into the fryer bay with a heavy thunk and adjusted the fryer back into place, taking longer than was absolutely necessary because he figured she would want to avoid speaking with him the way he’d been avoiding her.
But she lingered nearby, a frown crinkling her brow, and he wanted so badly to kiss her and melt the worries away. But she’d made it clear how she felt. She wanted some Halloween fun. His desire for her was too much.
He straightened and smiled at her, but it felt half-hearted.
Vivianne was supposed to be off, her shift over, but she was loitering at the service station, clearly trying to catch up on the gossip.
Between her and Gertrude, the entire town would know about their sorta-breakup.
If you could even call it that, more like a failure to start.
He’d endure the whispers and the pitying stares as he went through the steps of selling the diner.
At least he wouldn’t have her there orbiting him, taunting him with the one thing he truly wanted.
“I haven’t seen you in a few days, and it looks like your bed’s not even been slept in,” she said as she fidgeted with the string of her apron.
“Yeah, I don’t sleep much as it is.”
She nodded. “You should still take care of yourself.”
“I’ll rest when the busy season is over.”
“That’s what Frank said too, wasn’t it?”
He spun towards her, pinning her against the wall. She backed up, chest heaving.
“Please,” he said, leaning so his nose nearly brushed against her forehead. Her breath hitched.
“Don’t make this harder than it already is,” she said.
He exhaled and pushed away before striding back into the office, where the realtor’s folder sat.
If he were brave enough, he would have put the final nail in the coffin and told her he’d decided to sell.
But his greed was too much. He’d hold on to that information for a little longer.
Just until Halloween. Then he’d let her go for good.