Page 55 of Small Town Sizzle

“You have to be in our line of work,” Leti says with a sad smile. “Are you guys finished, or will you be able to lock up?”

“Go home, Leti,” Ethan responds. “It’s been a hard day for you, too. We can handle this.”

“Are you sure?”

“Absolutely.”

She nods and gives us a grateful smile before she grabs her things and leaves. I start cleaning up tools, but the dizziness from earlier still lingers.

“I know the wheels are turning for you and that it’s taking everything in you not to go sit on her front porch,” Ethan chuckles sadly.

“I…really like her.”

The words are out of my mouth before I can stop them. I’ve surprised myself by admitting it to my brother. I know that I feel things for her that I’ve never felt before, but…I don’t think I was really fully ready to admit them to someone else.

“I’m glad to hear that, truly. She’s a hell of a woman, and she’ll be good for you. But you have to listen to Leti’s advice. All you can do is support her and show her those things. It’s up to her whether or not she lets you in.”

I nod. I bend down to grab a wrench that slips out of my hand, and when I come back up, I start to sway.

“Whoa, you okay?” Ethan asks.

“Yeah, yeah, I am.”

“Does that happen often?”

“No, I haven’t eaten much today.”

It’s not a total lie, but I’m well aware that most of the issue is from slamming my head against the car that day. I still havea slight migraine, but it’s not debilitating. I’m not ready to tell Ethan about it, because I don’t want to be a burden. I’m here to help him and this will get better, it always does.

I can tough it out like I always have.

He pulls back and watches me for a second before he seems to believe me.

“Will you be okay to drive home by yourself?”

“Yes, of course,” I chuckle dryly.

“Okay, let’s lock up and get home then.”

When I get back to my childhood home, I shower and then go straight to my bed. I lay there, staring up at the ceiling, thinking about Maya.

Would it be wrong to show up at her house right now just to kiss her?

The next morning, I head straight for the records office. The sign on the wall reads PERMITS & LICENSING in blocky letters, and there’s a counter with glass separating the employees from the public. A single clerk is behind the desk, flipping through a file. She looks up as I approach, her name tag catching the light: Paige.

“Morning,” I say, leaning on the counter. “I’m looking for information on permits purchased by a company called Oakmont Holdings. Anything in the last six months or so.”

She raises an eyebrow, her light brown hair pulled into a messy bun. “Oakmont Holdings?” she echoes, already typing on her computer. “What kind of permits are we talking about here? Construction? Environmental? Business licenses?”

“Could be any of those,” I say. “They’re a bit of a mystery. I’m just trying to see what they’ve been up to.”

She nods, her fingers moving quickly across the keyboard. “Give me a second.”

The room is quiet except for the occasional squeak of her chair and the sound of her typing. I glance around, taking in the bulletin boards covered in announcements and outdated fliers.

After a few minutes, she frowns at the screen.

“There’s nothing here. No permits under that name in the last six months. Actually, nothing at all. Not even older records.”

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