Chapter 17
SEVENTEEN
he wants to eat you for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. and then go back for seconds
Alice
This is my second time at Maeve’s in the month since I got back to Ojai, and I’m not sure the shock of feeling at ease here has worn off yet.
Elaina and Charlie are easy to talk to and more down-to-earth than I had expected at our first girls’ night.
After last week, they decided we’d do this as often as possible.
It so happened we were all free again tonight—because, well, I’m always free—and now here we are.
So far, we’ve eaten our body weight in cheese, crackers, and various meats, had three different kinds of ice cream, and Charlie and I are currently witnessing Maeve and Elaina having a dance party in the kitchen.
“Some things never change,” Charlie says as the two women walk back to where we’re gathered on pillows around the coffee table.
Panting, Elaina, who is Owen’s sister and also married to a movie star, flops down next to me. “I don’t have the stamina for these like I used to, so I’m officially not leaving this spot for the rest of the night.”
“Is that it, then? We enter our thirties and can’t even handle a little dancing?” Maeve, who is also panting, throws herself dramatically onto Charlie’s lap.
“I don’t know about you, sister, but my stamina is fine, thank you. Ask Raf.” The innuendo isn’t missed by anyone, and Elaina perks up at the comment.
“Oh, have we reached the portion of the evening where we talk about all the crazy sex we’re having? Except you, Maeve. You keep your fucking mouth shut about my brother.” She points a finger at her best friend, who rolls her eyes as we all laugh.
“Well, I’m not having any sex, so I guess I’m out of this conversation.” I pop a grape into my mouth, and Charlie openly gapes at me.
“How on Earth are you living with a Machado and not having sex? Have you seen those men? They are literally all attractive as hell. Even Ivan, but you never heard that from me. Rafael would have a conniption if he knew I thought his dad was fit.” Charlie’s British accent is stronger than Maeve’s, and it’s incredibly endearing, but her comment makes my cheeks burn.
“We’re just roommates. And coworkers. And once he takes over for Rosemary, he’ll be my boss.” I chance a look at Maeve, and find her looking at me with a sly smile and brows raised.
“As our resident romance author knows,” Elaina starts, “those are some great tropes. I mean, my husband was once just my roommate.”
“I bet Arthur totally knows what he’s doing, too.
He’d probably handle you like he handles the horses, you know?
All commanding and strong, but still sweet.
” Maeve sits up a little taller. “You’ll have to tell us if it ever happens, Ali.
” Her words have my eyes practically jumping out of their sockets, but the way she so casually gives me a nickname makes me want to share parts of my life with them.
But she’s my actual boss. My boss’ boss.
And I’m eventually going to leave this place and never come back.
“You’ll have to excuse Maeve. She’s never taken an HR course in her life.” Elaina giggles, shaking her head.
“Listen, if you and Arthur can keep it profesh at work, it’s totally fine.
You’re looking at me like I’ve lost my marbles, but I’d hate for you two not to give it a try because you sometimes see each other at work.
The chemistry between you is hot. We’ve all seen it at the ranch.
And I have never seen Arthur this way about a woman.
” My eyes must only be getting wider, because she keeps going, “But if you don’t like him, then you do you.
If the chemistry is strictly platonic, that’s all right. No pressure.”
She pauses, and I finally swallow and take a full breath.
“But, Alice?” I meet her eyes. “That man looks at you like he wants to do very naughty things to you. Like he wants to eat you for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. And then go back for seconds!” Her brows dance on her forehead, and a shocked laugh escapes me.
“Ohhhhh, girl. You’re in trouble. What a Machado wants, a Machado gets.
” Elaina’s green eyes sparkle as she speaks.
“I’ve known Raffy and his siblings for a long time.
I mean, Raf played the long game to land Charlie, for fuck’s sake.
If Art’s already looking at you like that, you better gird your loins.
He’s coming for you!” My loins choose that moment to react to her comment, because my gracious, I’ve thought about Arthur coming for me. In more ways than one.
“I—He doesn’t—It’s not—” I can’t form a thought, let alone a sentence.
“Take your time processing it. There’s no rush, anyway, right? You’re getting to know one another, and this part should be fun, whether it’s platonic or romantic. So let it be fun.” Maeve reaches over and takes my hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze before letting go.
“Anyway, what are you all reading these days? I’ve found myself in a slump of sorts, and I need something new.” Charlie, bless her heart, changes the topic and I couldn’t be more thankful, though it doesn’t help to take my mind off Arthur.
“I’m reading a sci-fi, horror, thriller romance.
I know that’s a lot of words, but this book is difficult to describe,” I say as I pick up my sparkling water.
When Charlie’s brows raise in curiosity, I continue.
“It’s called Grave Matter. I’ve been devouring it, though I’m a big baby and can’t read it at night because it’s so atmospheric and creepy, so if you’re into that… ”
“And it has romance?” Elaina asks curiously.
“Sure does.” My cheeks heat as I think about the scenes in the book. I definitely didn’t expect Arthur to read romance books of any kind. “The sex scenes are… hot.”
“Fucking right! I am so in! Text us the book details later?” Elaina—who swears more than anyone I’ve ever met, yet is a literal angel of a human—always gets me to laugh. I nod my response, and when I look at Maeve, she shakes her head.
“No books for me, thanks. I leave the smut reading to these two. I read enough scripts as it is. Though it’s remarkably unsexy reading a sex scene when there are instructions between the dialogue.” She shrugs, and the rest of the night goes by in a blur of cheese, chocolate, and laughter.
This morning I’m in the clinic barn, setting a few things up for our first trial patient tomorrow. Arthur’s brother has a daughter with autism who has been having a harder time than usual with transitions, and he wants to try hippotherapy for her. I’m equal parts excited and nervous.
“Hey, Whinny.” Sam waves at me as they walk into the barn, and I mentally remind myself to use the nickname instead of their name. It’s not something we did at any of my previous jobs, but I like it.
“Hi, Mouse. Catch any more friends trying to break into the barns today?” I swear there is always a critter trying to bust in, and Sam is the one to catch—and release—them.
“Just the usual culprits.” The wide smile on their face lights up the space, and Paige walks in with a handful of hooks we need to hang in the tack room today.
“Hey, beautiful people. Ready to pretty up this barn?” She lifts her other hand and revs the power tool she’s wielding, making us laugh. Paige got the nickname Gear for being the one always fixing things, with a love of tools and a constant need to know how things work.
We all head into the tack room, and while Paige gets the hooks up, I continue organizing, and Sam works on unpacking a few things.
“All right, Whinny. Be honest. How are you liking working here so far?” The question comes from Paige, who is hardly ever silent.
“Oh, I love working here. You know that.” She knows because I told her nearly every day the first week I got here.
“Yeah, but that was only a few days in. You’ve had some time to adjust now, so I wanted to make sure your answer is still the same.” She smirks, quickly turning back to her task. “And how are things going with your grandmother? You mentioned going to visit her. Is she okay?”
I forgot I’d let that slip. I didn’t give any details, so I’m not surprised she’s asking.
“Yeah. I mean, sort of. She has Alzheimer’s, and because she lived alone, no one really caught it. She lives at an assisted-living facility in town now.” I keep it vague on purpose. It’s hard to talk about this when people expect me to be sad about it all the time.
“Are you two close?” Paige mumbles with a screw between her lips.
“Not at all,” I answer honestly. “She raised me after my mom passed, but we’ve… never gotten along.” Understatement of my life, right there.
Even Sam, who mostly keeps to themselves, quirks an eyebrow at that, but I don’t elaborate.
“I hope you know I’m not asking to be nosy, but you leave here after a full day of work and get in your car to go somewhere.
Sometimes you’re not back until late. And I swear I’m not stalking you, but I mean, I can see your driveway from my place.
There isn’t exactly a whole lot of traffic around here, and I see your headlights heading toward the farmhouse really late some nights.
Is everything okay?” I know she means well, and I hate that I’m causing any worry.
“Um, yeah. I usually go to Gran’s house before or after I visit her to pack up her things and get the place cleaned up. She has a lot of stuff, so it’s taking some time.” I shrug, knowing damn well that’s not the entire story.
“Wait, so your grandmother still has a house close by? How come you’re not living there?” She turns to me, but Sam shooting her a look makes her wince. “Sorry, that didn’t come out right.”
Wanting to put Paige out of her misery, I divulge more details.
“Yes. My grandmother was born and raised in Ojai. So was I. Her house is only ten minutes from here, but I can’t live there because she nearly burned it down.
It needs extensive work now, so I need to figure out what to do with it.
I’ll probably sell it to help pay for her care facility bills, but I need to clean it up before I can do that, so that’s where I am when I’m not here. ” There. Secret’s out.
“Next time you go, let me know. I’ll come help you,” Paige says easily as she moves on to her next task.
“Yeah, same,” Sam adds.
Tears pool instantly, and I hold my breath in an attempt to keep the sob building in my throat at bay. I swallow hard, looking down at the floor and attempting to gather myself. That wasn’t the response I was expecting. I guess I thought there’d be more questions, or we’d move on to something else.
“Thanks, but you don’t have to do that. The house reeks of smoke, and Gran has newspapers from 1975 stashed in the linen closet. I’d hate to put anyone through having to clean that stuff up.”
I’d also hate to put anyone through having to witness me crying when I see that the only things she’s ever gotten rid of are my things.
She’s always had a hard time parting with stuff, unless it was something of mine.
She even turned my old bedroom into a plant room, which makes no sense because it’s only got a small window and hardly gets any light.
It’s shelves and shelves of random dying plants everywhere.
She’d rather that than to have any proof I even exist.
“We know we don’t have to,” Paige says, pausing to screw another hook into the wall. “But it’s what friends do. And if you’d hate to put us through dealing with old newspapers, you must have forgotten we clean up literal horse shit every single day.”
Sam chuckles at that. “True. And, Whinny?” I lift my chin to look at them. “You moved here to take care of a grandmother you say you’re not close to, and you spend all your free time visiting her or cleaning up her house. If we didn’t already know you’re a good person, that confirmed it.”
Paige points at me then, nodding. “Yep. And so you know, I won’t ask anything else. I know too well that family stuff can be complicated. It’s why we gotta lean on our chosen family, you know?”
I don’t, but I nod anyway. The rest of the time we spend chatting and working side-by-side, I keep replaying those words in my mind.
Chosen family.
It hadn’t ever really occurred to me before that I could choose one, or that one could choose me.