Page 17 of The Jilted Lovers Club
“All right, where to first? The hotel to try again?”
By now the people are whispering amongst themselves, and I feel this tight ball form in the pit of my stomach.
“Forget them,” he murmurs, “they’re just thrilled to see something new to talk about.”
“Well, I’m pleased to be their entertainment, I suppose.”
But I do as he says, keeping my head held high, walking beside Ashton as he pushes Lottie in the stroller.
Third try isnotthe charm. Bernie takes one look at me and points at the hotel door. I recall bits and pieces of the night before, including Ashton at the counter, trying to talk some sense into her. But she didn’t budge then, and she won’t budge now.
“It’s fine,” I say as we leave. Normally I’d put up a fight. I’d tell Bernie what she could do with her Farah Fawcett hairstyle and paisley polyester blouse, and how her old hotel smells like cheese. But I’m tired. Defeated.
Alone.
I haven’t even started work yet, and I’m ready to leave this place. The best thing I can do is get my work done and leave this hell hole, even if it means I have to sleep on the concrete floor of the vacant shop. “I’ll find a place to stay in the next town over. It’s not like this is the only place to stay.” Even though I know it is.
So does he. Ashton pulls up his phone and searches out hotels, then shows me his screen. The nearest one is sixty-seven miles away.
“It’s fine,” I insist again. But it isn’t fine. None of this is fine. And before I can stop it, I feel the tears prickling my eyes. I quickly turn my head so he won’t see. “Thanks for everything, Ashton. You don’t have to babysit me anymore, though.”
I leave him standing in front of the hotel as I stalk toward The Till, soon to be Timeless. I don’t break my stride as I plow through the small group of protesters out front. “You all are on private property,” I hiss as I unlock the door. “If you don’t vacate the premises immediately, I’ll call the authorities to haul you away.”
“You mean Officer Ted?”
I glance at the lady who spoke, the same one who’d lifted Lottie out of her car seat. Bernie’s threats come back to me, including when she called this Ted guy to teach me a lesson.
“What, this whole town is on a first name basis with this officer?” I roll my eyes. “You all need to get a life.”
“Well, I have a life,” the woman says, then pulls her phone out. “With Officer Ted Shanigan, my husband. Should I get him on the phone for you so you can tell him to haul us away?”
The words sink in my stomach, my face growing hot as a few people snicker around me. Fucking incestual town. I turn away from her, feeling the weight of their laughter as I unlock the door and then close it behind me.
I’m afraid they’ll stay outside the shop, caging me into this fishbowl. But they disperse soon after, leaving me alone to start my work.
The thing is, my heart isn’t in it. Usually when I come into a blank slate like this, the ideas start pouring in faster than I can jot them down. But this time, there’s nothing. I have a few preliminary ideas I’d sketched out with Alexander in his office before I’d left New York, but looking at the space now, I know there’s so much more potential. My earlier ideas won’t do the light and architecture justice.
Maybe I’m in over my head. I thought I was made for designing spaces, but I’m still new to the business. The biggest job I’ve had was designing Nina’s boutique in Sunset Bay, a project I’m still proud to have created. Beyond that, I’ve had a few storefronts and several office spaces, including Alexander’s. Apparently I’d impressed him enough that he was willing to fly me across the country to design this shop in a nowhere town.
But why choose Lahoma Springs? What’s his reasoning for introducing a luxury watch shop to a small town that thrives on family-owned businesses?
I pull out my phone and touch Alexander’s name on the screen, then put it on speakerphone.
“Hey sweetie, how’s it going? You’ve obviously been busy.”
The tightness in my chest increases at the unsolicited pet name. But I let thesweetieslide in favor of my confusion. “Busy? How so?”
“Well, there was that huge order you placed yesterday. Let me find it.”
I can hear him clicking on keys, along with talking to whoever is in his office. “Here it is. A charge for $13,517 at Charred. Is that one of those natural wood places that burn their etches into the art pieces? I love the direction you’re going.”
A cold chill washes over me as memories of my evening hit me with an icy blast. Mother. Fucker. I groan as I recall the moment I whipped my card out, paying for everyone’s meal. There must have been a hundred people in that place. Maybe more.
There’s no getting around this one. I could play it off, feeding into his assumption that I’d bought some fancy piece of furniture. At the end of the day, Alexander is so rich that he wouldn’t even notice what’s in this store or not.
I can’t bank on that, though. More than that, Ihatelying. I’ve been lied to enough in my life, and I fucking hate liars.
“That was at a steak house, actually,” I say, then hold my breath.
