Page 7 of Runaway
There was always a bud of hope that the next woman would be someone I could talk to. Someone that didn't mind my crazy ideas. Wasn't intimidated by my energy.Dynamo,someone had once called me, and it hadn't been kind.
Someone to justbewith.
A memory of JJ and Lizbeth snuggling on the couch, reading their separate books, rose in my mind. I sent it away. JJ deserved her. They were perfect for each other. And now I was insanely jealous that he was the first Bailey brother to cave. JJ, the one that didn't care about love and never talked about having a family. Of coursehe'd be the one to break because he was the one that didn't want it so bad.
With a shake of my head, I pitched my phone to the couch. I'd talk to Stephanie about her alleged love of hiking later. For now, I needed to lift. Heavy squats. Maybe some presses. Something to push against.
Stella Marie filtered through my mind, but I forced her back out. She wanted to be left alone, so I'd honor that.
Even if I was intrigued.
A quick tap came on my front door and I pulled it open. Stella stood there. Sweat rolled down her face and she breathed heavily.
"You good?" I asked.
She grinned. "Fine. Just went for a run. You look . . . less like a bear."
My fingers raked my beard. "Thanks."
"I need to go to the store. Is there somewhere I could store food? Like a . . . kitchen or something?"
My head tilted toward the combined kitchen and dining hall through the trees. "Big building down that trail. I don’t winterize the kitchen, so the power should be on. There's a massive fridge, so help yourself."
"Thanks." She turned to go but stopped. "Need anything at the store?"
"I'm good, thanks."
Stella hesitated, nodded, and disappeared around the side of the cabin. My mouth opened to call her back, but not knowing what to say, I shut the door. No, I had to leave Stella Marie alone. She was my accountant. Saw my tax returns. And she'd come here needing help. She'd asked for space, I'd honor that and act as if she wasn't here.
Meanwhile, I had someone else to swoon in town.
* * *
"Adventura is going great."
My lack of enthusiasm sparked a hint of amusement in Maverick's eyes. He sat across from me at the Diner, where a plate of rubbery eggs, butter-soaked toast, and watered-down ketchup awaited him. I used my fork to cut into a pile of pancakes as he grabbed a knife.
A waitress named Dagny set a cup of orange juice in front of me and I thanked her. Dagny had tucked us into the back of the diner against the wall. Fading yellow flowers drooped in the middle of a cheap vase that I pushed out of the way to make room for maple syrup.
Our fourth-quarter meeting had just begun, and what a bangarang report.
"I figured as much," Maverick said, "but I also think you're holding back. What's going on? How did Q3 play out?"
Maverick, a previous corporate powerhouse turned small-town-business-guru loved a puzzle. When my brother married his adopted daughter, we'd become good friends. No one gave me the truth as hard as Mari—Stella, but Mav came a close second.
The words stuck in my throat like needles, but I forced them out. "I had to put the staff payroll on my credit card to get them paid after the loss. It closed out payroll, at least, but I got nailed on the payroll taxes."
He grimaced.
Mav had started talking to me about his interest in Adventura last April. When things started to tank in July, and my other investors decided they didn't like the risk after the second year of sketchy returns, Mav swooped in, bought their shares, and now had a controlling interest in the company.
Also my life.
"I worried about that," he said.
"There is still the mortgage to pay and the minimum balance on the credit card. The camp can't sit all winter, and JJ isn't renting anymore to do his catering, so Adventura effectively has no cash flow until spring."
Doubts assailed me. Maybe Adventura had been a mistake. Summer camps made no money. This wasn't feasible. I let them roll through, then back out. Too late to have doubts. Time for action.
