Chapter 22
The adults left when the auctions closed at midnight, and the college students zoomed out, when Nathan stopped the music at one a.m. and I got on the mic and said anyone who stayed must clean up.
Nathan’s crew loaded his equipment into a waiting van.
Lincoln held the ladder while I, from the top rung, yanked snowflakes off fishing line, letting them drop to the floor.
“I’ll change and be back to help clean up.” Marie dashed to the women’s restroom. I had already changed.
Kat was in the hall with Jefferson, cleaning up all the snowflakes out there.
Larry and Lisa went home.
Nathan waved goodbye. “That’s it, I’m outta here.”
I teetered at the top of the ladder. “Wait!” I climbed down, jumping from the second rung and jogging over to where he stood by the back door. “Thank you so much.”
“Oh, I almost forgot to give you this.” Nathan handed me a personal check with his signature.
“Thank you.” I read the check in disbelief. I ogled at the amount and the personalized autographed memento. “You are amazing!”
“Don’t forget to look up the bands I mentioned.” Pointing at me with a wink, he backed toward the door.
“I will.” I winced. “I mean I won’t. Forget that is.”
He nodded once more then disappeared almost as quickly as he came.
“I am totally keeping that,” I said when I showed it to Lincoln. “After it’s been cashed.”
Lincoln frowned, winding fishing line and leaving snowflakes in a pile.
I started up the ladder again then paused on a rung to ask Lincoln over my shoulder, “Where’s McKenna? She didn’t want to help clean up and wait for you?”
Lincoln just shook his head, still winding fishing line. “She went home with one of her friends.”
Clearly something more brewed under the surface, but I didn’t want to pry. Maybe she wasn’t feeling well. I didn’t want a repeat of the Fall Fling. Maybe she was tired and wanted to go to bed. Maybe she was mad he bid so high on my dance. I gulped, only standing on the second rung. At this height, I was almost eye-to-eye with Lincoln.
“Is she okay?” Remembering the fair a few months ago, I couldn’t help but ask.
“I think so.”
“She was crying in the corner at the end of the ball.”
He finished winding, grabbed a rung above me and leaned against the ladder, near me. Though it was nearing two, his eyes were bright, his hair still intact. And he still smelled like bubbles and pine. He’d shed his suit jacket, his top button unbuttoned, tie gone. We were eye-to-eye, breathing each other’s air.
A moment flashed where I remembered the kiss in the photo booth where we were both soaked and near each other.
“She was tired.”
I swallowed. I swallowed hard. My breath blew in measured streams. He was inches from me.
“I’m sorry to hear that.” Although I wasn’t sorry. I wasn’t sorry at all.
“Finals week.”
“I know.”
He raised his chin to point to where students dismantled the stage. “You and the DJ looked like you had a good time.”
“Oh, Nathan? Yeah, he’s so out of my league.” I never noticed Lincoln’s ridiculously long eyelashes before.
“I don’t know.” He arched a brow, casting me a side eye. “Looked like you were getting along pretty well.”
Looking down at the fishing line in my hands, I cleared my throat. “Hey, you want to get together and go over totals tomorrow?”
“Sure.”
I looked up and nodded toward the back tables. “I left the envelope over there.”
“It’s a lot of cash.”
“And credit card receipts. But the banks are closed. Someone has to take it home.” I hopped off the ladder and went to the table. The envelope wasn’t where I left it.
“That’s funny.”
“What?”
I flipped up the clipboards that had at the silent auction papers. “I had an envelope with all the cash and receipts, and now it’s gone.”
I moved decorations still littering the table.
Lincoln came over to look. “Are you sure you left it here?”
“I thought so. Where else could it be?”
I checked the front table by the entrance. Nothing. I checked by the DJ stage.
Lincoln followed me from place to place. “You didn’t put it anywhere, like inside your coat?”
I shook my head. “I got here early, and it was still warm enough I didn’t need a coat.”
Panic gripped my throat. That was a lot of money to misplace. Not only would I not be able to participate in the contest, I could go to jail for theft.
I stood in the center of The Venue and bit my fingernail, a sickening feeling haunting me.
“Maybe you set it down somewhere else? The bathroom?”
I had changed. I raced to the bathroom in the back where my dress still hung from a wire hanger in the large stall, my makeup still on the counter; bobby pins littered the sink. But no envelope of money. I kicked the door of the stall closed and closed my eyes.
What did I do with it? I checked my purse. Nothing. I returned to the hall.
Lincoln’s expression matched my own anxiety. “Anything?”
“Nothing.”
Kat came into the hall with Jefferson.
“Did you see an envelope with money over here?”
“No, but I saw Beau hulking around with an envelope. I thought you told him to take it to count receipts.”
“Beau?” I asked, my anxiety cutting off my air supply.
“With the envelope with the cash?” Lincoln swore under his breath.
Kat nodded, eyes wide. “It’s that bad?”
“As long as he has the cash, I think we’re okay.” Lincoln looked relieved. “He can’t cook the book as we have the receipts, too.”
But I still felt sick. “I don’t trust Beau.”
Jefferson interjected. “Do you think he would sabotage the winnings in order to win?”
“I don’t know.”
“Here, I’ll call him.” Lincoln tapped his phone and called Beau. “No answer.”
Jefferson frowned. “So that doesn’t mean anything.”
“It means I won’t sleep tonight.” I felt the weight of disappointment hanging on me.
Lincoln hugged my shoulders. “We can meet up and go over the receipts in the morning. Don’t worry about it until it becomes necessary.”
“All right.”
* * *
* * *
* * *
By morning,I had slept less than four hours, if that. I called Lincoln and he picked me up to go to Beau’s for the accounting.
Beau answered his door, a bright smile on his face. “I already totaled the earnings, and it looks like I just barely edged out Gabby.”
Lincoln stepped in, and I followed, disappointment squeezing my chest.
“Who helped you do the accounting?”
“Oh, I did it last night.”
“By yourself?”
“Of course by myself.” He ushered us into his living room where two piles of receipts, as well as cash sat on a coffee table. I hated even being in his house and wished I could leave.
Lincoln frowned. “The rules with cash are two officers have to be present with the money. And I was planning on taking home the earnings. Why did you just take them?”
He flashed a tight smile. “I thought I would be helpful and take care of it for you.”
Sighing, Lincoln glanced over his work. “All right, well, I’m not sure they can count this as official because you broke the rules. We might have to cancel the contest.”
“What?” Beau wrinkled his brow in disgust. “Are you canceling it because I won?”
“No, I’m canceling the contest because you didn’t follow the rules.”
His lip curled in a sneer. “No one told me the rules.”
“You can’t make assumptions of what you can and cannot do. Give me the cash, and I’ll deposit it.”
With a scowl, Beau gave him the cash, the receipts, and the paper with the totals. He stepped closer to Lincoln, chest to chest. “You can’t cancel it. I’ll talk to Ms. Reaper. She’ll recognize me as the winner.”
“You go ahead and do that,” Lincoln pushed back verbally.
Lincoln—with the cash, receipts and the ledger—stalked out of the door. I followed him. As I was leaving, I noticed Tia poking her head out of a room in the hall. We made eye contact. She then withdrew into the room.
* * *
Once out of the house,I breathed a sigh of relief, though not completely. “You think he falsified the totals?”
Lincoln focused straight ahead. “Absolutely.”
“But we don’t have any proof.”
“None. The best we can do is just cancel the contest. But that means that neither you nor he will have the chance to go to the national convention in DC.”
As we drove away, disappointment rankled me. Lincoln wanted me to go to DC to talk to his dad about his non-profit. That dream slipped further and further away.
We sat in his car in front of my apartment. Lincoln continued to go over the ledger. “This is just his accounting. Because we didn’t go over his accounts before he took them, we don’t know if his numbers are accurate. The numbers seem to add up, but they also seem really low to me. So it’s his word against unknown.”
“Is there really nothing we can do?”
Lincoln shook his head, closing his eyes and leaning against the headrest. “Beau must’ve been scared he wouldn’t make it and decided to fudge the report.”
“Could I go through each ticket sold and count up the number and make sure they are all accounted for?”
“You’re brilliant.” He opened his eyes, training his gaze on me. “The receipts are dated and signed. The cash can be tracked and if we find a discrepancy, we can expose him. Will you go over all the cash and ticket sales? It would take forever but would you do it? With me?”
If it meant going to DC and ousting Beau, I would totally do it.
* * *
At noon,we had only gone through half the ticket sales at my apartment. My eyes bugged out, and I needed a nap. I stretched out on the couch with my head on Lincoln’s knee for a quick minute. Just as I drifted off to sleep, a knock sounded on the door.
I glanced up to Lincoln above me, more awake than I was a few seconds ago, my heart thundering in my chest.
I got up and threw open the door. To my surprise, on the doorstep was Tia. “Can I come in?” she asked timidly, keeping her head down.
“Yes, of course,” I said after I recovered from the shock. “Can I get you something to drink?”
She shook her head. Lincoln moved from his spot on the couch, and she sat, her coat hanging from her shoulders.
“I have some interesting news for you.”
“What is it?”
“It’s about the contest.”
Lincoln caught my eye. But we returned our focus to our visitor. “Beau told me he was going to falsify the evidence if necessary to win.”
I sucked in my breath. I glanced at Lincoln who remained calm. “Did you actually see him falsify anything?”
She nodded. “He told me to leave the room while he counted so I couldn’t see anything incriminating.”
“Smart move.” I had to give him some credit.
“But I peeked anyway.”
Tia was smarter and braver than I thought. “What did you see?”
“I’m pretty sure he was taking small bits of cash from Gabby’s pile. Not a whole lot, just enough to win with a small margin. I found a printed paper with lines on them, ones like you used for the silent auction.”
“Thank you for coming forward and sharing this information with us. I know it can be hard to incriminate a friend.”
“Beau said he wanted to win at all costs. I was upset because I asked him why it mattered so much. He said he had to beat you.” She turned to me. “It was crazy. Why was he so hung up on you when he had me? I was a little jealous because although he said he hated you, if he truly hated you, why did he spend so much time making your life miserable?”
I sighed. Why did Beau hate me so much? He spent so much energy hounding me.
Lincoln stepped closer. “Would you be willing to go to Ms. Reaper?”
She shook her head. “No way. Beau would be so mad, and I owe him. But I just thought I’d come and tell you.”
“Thank you. Even that’s enough.” Lincoln patted her on her shoulder.
She stood. “I should be going. Beau will wonder where I went for so long and what I was doing.”
A bit of hurt squeezed my heart. I was so lucky I wasn’t Tia. She may have been good looking. She may have been all put together, but she was still trapped by Beau and what she believed she could get from him. We said goodbye.
Lincoln turned to me after we closed the door on Tia. “Wow! Now what?”
“It doesn’t change anything.”
“It doesn’t prove we won?”
“Not really. We don’t have any proof he actually changed anything.”
Lincoln blew his bangs from his eyes. “But there may be something I can still do.”
* * *
Later that night,I decided to call Gable. It was time to be over. Officially. Even if we weren’t officially dating, he still sent random texts. It was time to let him go. For the first time, I would be the one to dump someone. My thoughts were elsewhere. In my living room, Marie was finishing up her last project of the semester.
“I’m calling him.” I sighed. “But I don’t know how to break up with someone. I’ve never done it before.”
“You should consult the book.”
I glanced at the worn book cover, one that we had consulted and referenced all semester. “I can do this on my own.”
I texted him to ask if we could meet up somewhere to talk.
I opened the door and went out into the courtyard. The trees smelled wonderful, the eucalyptus and linden trees shading the courtyard. I stumbled in the gravel to a rock and sat down.
With the phone propped up to my ear, I could hear the ringing. Each tone sent nervous tremors down my body. Would he pick up?
Music shattered the ring tones. “Gabby?” I could barely hear him over his background noise.
“I just wanted to call and say our relationship isn’t going anywhere.”
“Was that something that needed to be said? I thought you’d just get the hint if I stopped texting.”
I sighed. Everyone needed the book. “I just wanted there to be clear communication and no misunderstandings. I learned a lot about music from you. I’m glad we were friends.”
“Yeah. It was cool to hang out with you.” Music blared. “I should probably go. I want to listen to this band.”
“I get it. Bye.” I must not have meant that much to him. The break-up didn’t even feel like one. But then our relationship wasn’t anything weighty either.
“Gabby?”
I turned. Behind me, Beau wandered through the pea gravel making terrible noise.
“What do you want?” I arched an eyebrow. Beau was one of my least favorite people.
He sat down on a rock next to mine. “So Lincoln talked to Ms. Reaper. Apparently I’m disqualified from the contest.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.” I wasn’t. Not one bit. But sometimes it’s better to lie and be polite than to be truthful, because I would’ve said, Served you right.
“Well, here’s the thing. I want to win. And if I can’t win, I’ll make sure no one wins. I spent a lot of my own money advertising and making sure that my fundraiser would win.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” I said again flatly.
“Yes, I am too. So here’s the deal. You’re going to talk to Lincoln and tell him to reinstate me and to use the numbers I gave him.”
“What? Why would I do that?”
“Because I have something you don’t want people to see.”
“What could that possibly be?”
Beau smiled. He then slipped his wallet from his back pocket, opened it, and thumbed out something. “This.”
I couldn’t see what it was at first, then I saw it and didn’t want to see it all at the same time. I closed my eyes.
“This looks like you and Lincoln kissing in a photo booth on the day of the Fall Fling. I’ll tell Ms. Reaper that you plotted together against me. You were the only two officers tallying the Fall Fling numbers.”
My eyes flew open. “Are you serious?”
“I mean, I could just post this on social media, and everyone will see that you are both trying to get rid of me because of your mutual affections.”
“That’s not what’s going on.”
“Isn’t it?” he growled.
“You are such a loser.”
He thrust out his chest. “No, I’m a winner. I’m going to DC so I can start my own non-profit to put on my med school application.”
My heart crashed into my ribs. “Why do you want to humiliate me? Why can’t you just leave me alone?”
“Because you didn’t come back.” He stomped. “You didn’t beg me to continue to date after we broke up.”
“What?”
He practically snarled. “Every other girl I broke up with gave me whatever I wanted to keep dating them but you, you just walked away.”
I hurt his ego? Even though he was the one who broke up with me. I was so confused.
“So, let me win, and I won’t accuse you and Lincoln of your clandestine dalliances.”
“I doubt you’ll have the guts to do it.”
Beau sneered. “You don’t think I’m a man of my word?”
“I don’t think you’re a man.”
Beau blinked, as if I’d slapped him. “Maybe I should ask your friend Lincoln what he wants me to say.”
“He won’t agree to it.”
He held up the photo strip. “I want to be proclaimed the winner by tonight or I’ll be hitting every social media outlet with my little secret.”
He stood and exited, crunching across the gravel. I called Lincoln.