Page 19 of The Jilted Lovers Club
Mr. Felix. Like Bob and Bec of Felix Family Farms. Which means…
“You’re Mr. Elliot.”
Ashton nods. “That’s the last key I have, as far as I know. But your employer will probably change the locks anyway.”
“Likely.” I have so many questions, none of them important and all of them completely nosy. “Why did you sell?”
“Good question.”
Lottie begins fussing, twisting in her stroller. He starts to unbuckle her, but then stops. “We usually let her go free in the shop. Do you mind?”
I shake my head, and he unbuckles her the rest of the way and lifts her out. Once free, she starts toddling around the cavernous space.
“I just don’t understand,” I say. “This whole town is picketing as if the place was stolen from them. But you and Bob were willing parties in this transaction.” I gesture my hand toward thewindows, toward the whole town. “They all thinkI’mthe enemy. If they’re so pissed about the sale, why aren’t they mad atyou?”
“I don’t know,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck.
“You don’t know, or you’re not telling me everything?”
He looks away, and goddamn it, I want to shake him. To force some real answers here. But when I look at him, he’s watching his daughter, and something in his face gives me pause. The sadness. Almost like he’s lost.
It’s hard to break someone who’s already shattered.
My eyes drift to Lottie, watching as she bends to pick at a spot in the concrete. She wobbles, then plants her butt on the ground and starts smacking it. I have to admit the kid is cute, in an almost non-scary way.
“Look, I know it’s none of my business why you sold, and under normal circumstance, I’d just do my job with no concern for you or the details of the sale. But the thing is, nothing has been normal about this job since I got here. I’ve been blackballed by everyone here, as if I’ve done something wrong. This leads me to believe that no one knows the details of the sale, and they are unfairly targeting me and my employer when they really need to be pointing their fingers at you. So tell me, Ashton Elliot, why did you sell The Till, and why does everyone in town believe we’re the villains and not you?”
He looks down, and I feel a pang of sympathy at the flash of discomfort that crosses his face. But then I harden my heart, followed by my expression once he looks up again.
“It’s complicated,” he says, repeating what’s proving to be a popular answer. Then he lets out a sigh before meeting my eyes.
I shake my head. “Nuh uh, I need more than that.”
Ashton looks at Lottie, who’s happily babbling in her own little world. “We were about to lose the farm,” he finally says. “The investment was a rocky one from the start, and it was never a money maker. But Bob and Bec loved the place. They boughtthe building not long after Sasha and I moved in, and Sasha was placed in charge of the store.”
He looks out the window, and I follow his gaze. Bernie was out there in front of the hotel, leaning down to hand a cookie to a little girl with her mother. The smile on her face almost makes her look young. So different from the woman who threw me out of her hotel.
“The Till held its own for a little bit. We sold seeds we got from a catalogue, and opened up the front of the store as a co-op for small businesses. It was charming and sweet, and Sasha loved the place. But soon, the money started bleeding out. We kept pulling from the farm to keep it alive. At one point, the electricity was turned off when the checking account went negative and a check bounced. And then Sasha…” He pauses again. I don’t say anything, just wait for him to finish. “Well, she left and we were left holding the bag. There was no choice but to sell, and Alexander popped up out of nowhere with an offer we couldn’t refuse. The money was enough to pay off our debts. It let us walk away clean—and fast. We had to take the offer.”
“And you didn’t tell anyone about the reasons why,” I muse. He shakes his head. “Ashton, this town failed you. You all wouldn’t have gone under if they’d bought enough to keep you afloat. They are acting like victims when really they’re the ones to blame.”
“It wasn’t them.” He glances at me, then at Lottie. “It’s a long story.”
“I have nothing but time.”
He closes his eyes, and I’m suddenly aware that I’m prying into things that are none of my business.
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t—”
“Sasha cleaned us out,” he says, his voice low, even though we’re the only ones in the shop.
“You mean shestolefrom you? From her parents?”
“From all of us,” he says, meeting my eyes. “She took off in Bec’s car, but not before emptying the business account. Most of it was Bec and Bob’s retirement fund, which they’d invested in The Till, and all of it was gone. We haven’t seen her since. Without that money, we had no choice but to sell The Till. The offer from Winslow & Associates came in at the perfect time, and it was enough to pay back everything Sasha took and more. Basically, we had no other choice.”
I look down at Lottie, feeling my breath grow sharp and hot as I watch Ashton’s daughter—Sasha’s daughter—play happily at our feet. Why do I feel enraged by this information? It’s not like I have any vested interest in The Till. But I can’t help feeling protective over Ashton. Over the Felixes. Over this tiny innocent child with a mom who just up and left her without a second glance.
“And no one in this town knows a thing.” I shake my head. “Man, you all must be saints or something, because I’d be blasting my ex’s name all over town if he’d pulled a stunt like that.”
