Chapter 14
During my lunch hour on Friday, I went to see the bank manager to try and get Spike’s money.
The local bank manager was a thin, balding man who looked as though he’d been born wearing a suit. When he shook my hand in a cold and unsmiling greeting, my palms were sweaty with nerves. The walls, floor, and desk in his office were drab shades of brown, and his beige suit blended into the surroundings in the most unfortunate way. His desk held nothing but a computer and some stacks of paper. He had no pictures, plants, or decorations. Not even a window.
Worst of all, there was no trace of humor in the man’s face. No indication that he’d ever smiled, or even made a joke, let alone a mistake. And he definitely didn’t look like the kind of guy who’d understand how I could have fallen for a charismatic rock star and then been left to clean up his mess.
It was hard to believe he’d give me a loan. But I had to try.
He motioned me to take a seat in his hard, unwelcoming visitor’s chair. “How may I help you, Miss Solis?”
As I sat, I surreptitiously wiped my palms on the formal black pants I’d worn in order to make a good impression. “Did you get the loan application I emailed?”
“Ah. Yes.” Instead of turning to his monitor, he took a printout of the form from a stack of paper and frowned down at it. “You’re applying for a personal loan, but it says you’ve only been in your current employment for a week.” His drawn-together brows showed both puzzlement and disapproval. “Is that correct?”
I shifted uncomfortably in the chair as nervous sweat trickled down my back. Being here felt disturbingly like visiting my mom and listening to her sigh over my lifestyle choices, or ask if I didn’t think I could get a better-paying job.
“Well, yes,” I admitted. “I’ve only just started at the bakery. But it’s a steady job, and I’m staying at my sister’s place so my outgoings are low. I can afford the loan repayments.”
“How much collateral can you offer the bank?”
I swallowed. A few weeks ago, I’d had a little over fifteen thousand dollars in rainy-day savings. But it wasn’t as though I could explain how I’d been scared enough to empty my account and give it all to a drug dealer.
“No collateral.” Fresh sweat trickled down my back.
This was excruciating. Any minute he was going to shake his head sadly at me like Mom always did before reminding me how hard she and Dad had worked to give us girls a good education. I could almost imagine him asking why couldn’t I find a nice boy instead of a tattooed guitarist, and when was I going to settle down?
“. . . reason for wanting the loan?” he asked.
Damn. I’d been so busy beating myself up, I’d missed the start of his question. Wiping my palms on my pants again, I said, “The loan’s to pay off a debt. But it’s not my debt. It’s someone else’s.”
“Someone else’s debt?” His incredulous tone made my heart sink to new depths. He made it sound as though paying someone else’s debt was the most irresponsible thing in the world.
And maybe he was right.
To most people, I’d seem irresponsible. I didn’t have any money left in the bank, I still wasn’t sure what kind of career I wanted, I’d done some pretty stupid things when I was a teenager, and I’d always dated guys who were bad for me. But that didn’t mean I had to keep sweating into his uncomfortable chair, letting him make me feel like a loser.
“Tell me the truth.” I lifted my chin, leveling my gaze at his eyes. “What chance do I have of being approved for this loan?”
He studied me for a moment before giving the sad shake of his head I’d been expecting. “I’m afraid the bank’s policy is that low-collateral loans can’t be offered?—”
“Thank you for your time.” I stood up, cutting him off. “I’ll show myself out.”
He didn’t look surprised as I marched out. He certainly didn’t try to stop me. And when the door shut behind me, it sounded like a nail was being driven into the coffin of my last chance to pay Spike off myself.
Now I really would be dependent on Eric to come to my rescue and pay what he owed. And if I’d learned anything over the last few weeks, it was that I couldn’t count on Eric.
Driving away, I felt like bursting into tears. Eric wouldn’t come through for me. Spike’s threats would accelerate. I’d have to ask Josephina to stay out of town. And what about my parents? Would Spike threaten them next? Would I be forced to tell my mother I was in trouble? She already thought I was messing up my life. The last thing I wanted was to confirm it.
When I got back to the bakery, there were plenty of people sitting at the tables outside, but Wren was the only customer at the counter. She was talking to Amber, and they were smiling at each other as Amber bagged up her cookie order. Wren came in every day. A fact that was no surprise seeing how wistfully she looked at Amber, as though Wren thought she was sweeter than anything in the bakery’s cabinet.
Those two were clearly perfect for each other. Wren was training to be a firefighter and loved cookies. Amber worked in a bakery and liked making her own candles. No wonder there were sparks between them. They had a lot in common. Unlike Cy and me.
“How did it go at the bank?” Amber asked me once Wren had gone.
“Not great,” I admitted, tying on my apron. All I’d told her was that I was going to talk to the bank manager about my finances. Thankfully, she hadn’t pushed me for any more details.
“I’m sorry, Mags.” Her expression was sympathetic. “Is there anything I can do to help?”
“Thanks, but I’ll figure something out.” I searched for a change of subject. “Hey, has Wren asked you out yet?”
“Not yet.” She made a sad face, pulling her mouth down.
“Why don’t you just ask her?”
“I don’t know. I don’t want to scare her.”
I snorted. “You couldn’t scare Wren off if you dressed up as a ghost and said you were her boo.”
Amber’s forehead wrinkled. “Excuse me?”
“It’s obvious she likes you! If you ask Wren on a date, she’ll say yes. I’m sure of it.”
She fiddled with the edge of her apron, running it through her fingers. “Wren’s working tonight, but she mentioned she’s going to next Friday’s jam session at the community center. Maybe I should go too. But instead of making a big thing of it, I could just say I’ll see her there.”
“That’s a good start.”
She bit her lip. “Would you go with me, Mags?” Her expression was so nervous, I wanted to hug her.
“Of course I will!” Grinning, I bumped her shoulder. “I’d love a night out, and I can be your wingwoman. We’ll have fun.”
“Great. Thanks.” She slumped against the counter with obvious relief.
“No need to thank me. I love getting dressed up and listening to live music. Even bluegrass.”
“We don’t need to get dressed up.”
“But we should! Let’s meet at my place to get ready. I have this vivid blue dress that would look amazing on you, and when Wren sees you, she won’t know what hit her.”
Her eyes lit up. “You’d lend me your dress?’
“Of course!” I rubbed my hands together, excited by the idea. “Should we ask Joy to come too? Now I’m thinking about it, both your love lives haven’t been nearly exciting enough. It’s about time for some action.”
Amber wagged her eyebrows at me. “What about some action for you?”
The question was barely out of her mouth when Cy walked into the bakery.
As soon as his winter-blue eyes landed on me, tingles started in my stomach. And I had to admit, it was a nice feeling. I liked the way his smile creased his eyes. I didn’t even mind the wildness of his beard anymore, except that it stopped me from seeing all of his face. Did he have dimples? I badly wanted to know. Combined with his high cheekbones, his long nose, and the hypnotic swoop of his dark eyelashes over his light eyes, a flash of dimples would knock me all the way out.
“Hey, Mags,” he said in his low voice.
“Hey yourself.” I found myself smiling back at him. “Where’s Zeppelin?”
“Waiting in the car.” He stuck his hands in the front pockets of his jeans, lifting both shoulders and nodding toward the cabinet. “I’ve come to get some cake so I can have it waiting for Gemma when she gets home from her first day at school.”
“That’s a nice thought. Chocolate?”
He nodded. “Chocolate’s her favorite.”
As I pulled the cake out of the cabinet and bagged it for him, I said, “She’ll be okay, you know. First days are hard. But I’m sure she’ll settle in quickly.”
“I hope so.” He leaned his hip against the counter, and I couldn’t help but admire the way his wide chest filled out his T-shirt. The simplicity of the shirt put the focus onto his burly size by highlighting his muscles.
“We’re having pot roast for dinner tonight. Gemma will be disappointed if you’re not there to eat with us.” His eyes heated as they roamed over my face. “And so will I.”
Our kiss, in all of its full glory, replayed in my memory. My knees weakened, and my mouth went so dry, I had to swallow to be able to speak. “I like pot roast,” I managed to croak.
“Good. I’ll see you tonight.” He gave me one last smile, held up the bag of cake with a nod of thanks, then left.
When I turned, Amber was gaping at me.
“What?” I asked.
She shook her head, her eyes wide. “Nothing. I’m a little surprised is all. You and Cy Baxter?”
I shrugged, trying to play it down. As much as I liked her and wanted to confide in her, she’d been one of the many who’d warned me against Cy. And after seeing the giant padlocks on his so-called mushroom-growing barn, I couldn’t say she’d been wrong. Besides, it wasn’t like I was actually dating Cy. Our kiss wouldn’t be repeated.
“It’s not like that,” I said. “I’m just having dinner at his house. He lives near my place, and he’s a good cook.”
“Well, it was neighborly of him to invite you.” Amber was a genuinely nice person, and she said it in a sincere way. But I could still hear a little reservation in her tone.
“Yeah, it was nice of him. Considering he’s supposed to be a drug dealer and a suspected murderer.” I grimaced. “That’s probably why I’m attracted to him. Bad boys are magnets, and I’m like a little scrap of iron. They’re magnets that have fallen into that dirty place behind the fridge where all the crap builds up, and even though I can feel them pulling me into the dirt, I can never seem to resist.”
“So you admit you’re attracted to him?”
“I know, it’s unimaginable.” I sighed. “I mean, he has so much facial hair, he looks like he escaped from Middle Earth. But he’s been so nice to me. I mean, really kind and sweet. And then there are his eyes. Have you ever seen eyes so light, with such long, dark eyelashes?”
“He has striking eyes, that’s for sure.”
“And once you look past the beard, he has incredible cheekbones and a classical nose. Contagious smile. Amazing body. Plus, there’s that rumbly voice. His voice does things to me it shouldn’t.”
“He’s a good-looking man, there’s no denying it.” She scrunched her eyes doubtfully. “But there are all those rumors about him.”
“I know,” I said with a wince. “And at least some of the rumors must be true, because if I’m attracted to him, he’s sure to be bad. It’s a fault with the way I’m made. The worse they are, the more I like them. If a serial killer walked in, I’d probably find him irresistible.”
“What does Cy do for money?”
I gave another shrug, fighting against the urge to tell her about his suspicious barn. “All I know for sure is that he has this quiet confidence I really like. He’s good at cooking, and he’s fun to talk to. He keeps showing up to care of me. But on the flip side, he lives in a rundown house, drives a pickup that belongs in a scrap heap, and looks like a...” I trailed off, not wanting to say the wrong thing.
“Like a hillbilly?” Amber shot me a questioning look.
I winced. “Is that an awful thing to say?”
She considered it a moment, then gave a solemn nod. “In this case, I’ll allow it.”
“But I still want to kiss him!” I blurted the truth, then groaned. “What’s wrong with me, Amber? And how can I fix it?”