An Unexpected Love Story (Love Story Book Two) (23 page)

He shrugged. “There are other jobs. I’m thinking it might be time to get more serious about my life anyhow. I don’t want to be a bartender forever, you know.”

The one good thing that had come out of this mess, as far as I could see, was that Paul was being completely normal with me again. We didn’t talk about Justine, or that night at the bar, but he had gone back to being my old friend—dependable, kind Paul.

“You should get the hell out of here,” I told him, taking a sip of my whiskey. “This town is dying. It’s no good for any of us.”

“Yeah,” he said, looking around the empty dining room. “Maybe so. But it is home.”

“Home,” I said, shuddering. The only home I’d ever known. And soon it would be gone, unrecognizable.

“Look,” Paul said suddenly, as if he’d been working up to say something. “Is it true what they’re saying, about John being involved in this?”

I nodded. “Yup. His company is representing the developers.” I saw his hands clench into fists on the counter. He noticed me looking and moved his fists below the bar.

“He can’t do this to your family,” he said, shaking his head. “It’s not okay, Brooke.”

I sighed. “You don’t have to tell me. In all fairness, I don’t think he knew what their plans were, not until it was too late.”

“You’re defending him?” he asked, his face twisted up in bitterness. “Seriously, Brooke?”

“No, I’m not defending him,” I said, feeling my temper start to rise. “I ended it with him the day I found out.”

Paul was quiet for a moment. “I’m sorry to hear that,” he finally said, and I was surprised to hear the sincerity in his voice. “How are you?”

I sighed. “I’m fine.”

He peered into my face and chuckled. “Yeah, Brooke, you look real fine. Here.” He ducked behind the bar and pulled out a bottle of Johnny Walker. “I think it’s time we moved onto the good stuff, don’t you?”

Once he’d replaced our drinks, he came around the bar to sit on the stool next to me. “So. You wanna talk about it?”

I bumped him with my shoulder. “You don’t have to be this cool,” I told him. “I know you didn’t like him.”

He shrugged. “I didn’t know him. It was more worry than dislike.” I raised my eyebrows at him and he clarified, “I was always worried that he was gonna hurt you.”

That surprised me. “Really? Why?”

“Come on, Brooke,” he said, shaking his head. “He shows up here for a weekend and totally sweeps you off your feet. I’ve known you a long time, and I’ve never seen you like that.” I felt a flash of embarrassment that I had been so obvious. Then again, this was Paul—this wouldn’t be the first time he had seen things about me no one else could.

“When he left, I could just tell you were taking it bad. And then he showed up again with that kid.” Paul looked angry as he took a sip of his scotch. “God, I thought that was so shitty, Brooke. The look on your face…”

I remembered how shocked I had been when I found out about Lainey—and how quickly I had been willing to brush it all a side when John showed he was still interested in me.

“You were different around him, you know? You never really seemed like yourself.”

I frowned. “How?”

“You stopped coming to Hardy’s. You dressed up every day—”

“I like dressing up!”

Paul smiled at me. “I know you do. But you also like jeans and T-shirts. It’s one of the best things about you, you know? The way you can be so gorgeous and put-together one day and then rock the casual look the next. And somehow look ten times sexier.”

For some reason, I found myself blushing. Paul watched me for a moment before he went on.

“And then to see you all these weeks,” he said, “so eager to be with him when it was obvious he didn’t appreciate you.”

My stomach dropped. “What do you mean?”

Paul looked directly into my eyes and, his voice soft, said, “I noticed, okay? That he never had you around that kid. Not that I think you wanted to be playing house or something—I know that’s not your thing. But hell, Brooke, you didn’t even go on real dates with him. You think I didn’t see you all those times, sneaking up into the guest rooms when he had the time for you?”

I felt a wave of shame. “Yeah, well. A quickie in an empty room. I guess that’s all I’m good for, huh?”

Without warning, Paul took my chin in his hand and forced me to look up at him. His eyes were blazing and his grip on me was almost rough. “Don’t say shit like that about yourself, okay? Not to me. I don’t want to hear it.”

I nodded, surprised into silence by his vehemence. So briefly I couldn’t be sure it had happened, he rubbed my chin gently before releasing it. We were both quiet for a moment, sipping our drinks.

“Kellie told me she was surprised you were so upset about the inn,” Paul said eventually, looking down at the counter. “She said you always went on about hating this place and you wanted out. She assumed you’d be wanting to get away to a bigger city, some fancy life.”

I laughed bitterly. “Yeah, I always thought so, too.”

Paul was watching me now. “Maybe you
should
get out of here,” he said. “At least for a while.”

“I can’t,” I said. “I have to work. Captain of the Titanic, you know.”

“Your parents can handle things for a while. We’re pretty slow—it’s only April.” His implication was clear. We wouldn’t be busy until summer. But by summer it would all be gone.

“I don’t know. My dad’s been taking all of this pretty hard.”

“Maybe it would be good for him,” Paul said. “A chance to run things for a while before it’s gone.”

“Maybe.” My dad had taken to coming into the lobby and just standing there, staring around the room, for long stretches of time. I sighed. “I still kind of can’t believe it’s happening, you know? I keep thinking some idea will occur to me, some way to save it all.”

“Me, too,” Paul said, smiling at me ruefully. “I have this whole fantasy where I save your inn for you and you realize how you can’t live without me and we live happily ever after.”

I looked at him and he winked at me, indicating he was kidding. I wondered what my life would be like, if I was with Paul. He would certainly have no problem making me a part of his life, not at all like John. But what kind of life would it be? Paul tending bar, me working at some dive hotel in town? Him working on his dirt bikes in his free time while I sat around, bitter about what I was missing? Strangely, there was some comfort in that image, of knowing how things would be, but there was a sense of fear as well. I wanted more, there was just no getting around it.

“Paul, you have no idea how much I wished that would make us both happy,” I sighed. “I would drive you crazy by the end of the first week.”

“Yeah, maybe you’re right,” he said, bumping my shoulder with his. “You do have a pretty bad temper.”

I laughed for the first time in days. “Thanks, Paul,” I said, suddenly very grateful that he was still willing to be my friend even though we might want different things. I was also somewhat proud of myself—even feeling this bad, I hadn’t considered the idea of taking comfort in something physical with Paul. Maybe I had grown up a little.

“Think about what I said, Brooke.” Paul topped off my glass and leaned toward me across the counter. “I really think it would do you some good to get out of here for a while. The next few weeks will probably be rough.”

He was right. The deal was going to be official in three days. After that, the developers would have free rein to be in the building, measuring, and planning. The demolition was set to begin in early June. Less than two months.

I looked around the dining room wistfully. For so long I had despised this room, wished I could make it more fashionable, more modern. What I wouldn’t give now to keep it exactly this way forever. As I gazed around the room, movement outside the window caught my eye. I felt a dull thud as my heart seemed to hit the floor; John and Lainey were walking down the street in front of the building.

Hoping they didn’t see me, I turned quickly back to the bar and downed my drink in one go. The last thing I needed right now was to be thinking of John.

“You know what,” I said to Paul, “I think getting out of town might be exactly what I need right now.”

* * *

The next afternoon, I pulled up in front of Emily’s apartment in Royal Oak. I had left early in the morning and made the trip in good time, stopping only once for coffee and gas.

Emily and Chris met me downstairs, both having taken the day off to be with me. They didn’t offer hugs or consolation; instead, Chris took my bag and Emily my arm, leading me upstairs, where three cold beers were waiting.

“Okay, so what the hell happened?” Emily asked. “Start from the beginning.”

So I told them the entire sorry tale, about the developers calling way back in November and me forgetting all about it. About my dad’s debt and the way he felt he had no choice.

“The worst thing,” I said, “is that my mom mentioned on New Year’s Eve that she might be willing to sell. New Year’s! That was months ago. And I completely brushed it off because I was so head over heels for some jerk who doesn’t even want me.” I shuddered and took a long pull of beer. “If I had been acting like myself, I could have stopped this, I could have worked with my parents from the beginning and figured something out.”

“You can’t blame yourself,” Chris said. “Do you think your dad would have told you about the debt if he didn’t think he had to? It sounds to me like he thought he had it under control, until they bought Betty’s place. He probably never even considered it a risk.”

I slammed my hand down on the table. “That’s the problem with him. He always thinks everything will work out, no matter what. It’s the same as when he broke his hip. How long did he wait to call me?”

“I know, sweetie,” Emily said. “I think he just tries to protect you. You’re everything to them. Their miracle baby, remember?”

I smiled weakly. My parents had always thought they couldn’t have kids. I had come along as quite a surprise when they were in their late thirties. My mom had always said I was her little miracle.

“Well, there’s no miracle on the horizon now,” I said. “I’ve been racking my brains, trying to think of a way out of this, but I’ve got nothing. There’s just no way for them to borrow the money, and they refuse to let me do it.”

“Maybe that’s for the best, Brooke,” Chris said. I gaped at him and he held up a hand. “Just listen for a minute, okay? If your parents kept the inn, they would probably never be able to retire, not really. Sure, you might be doing most of the work, but they’d still be stuck in that apartment. And so would you. How long did you think that could last?”

I scowled. He had a point, but I didn’t like hearing it.

“This is their chance to actually have a retirement together,” Emily added. “Before they get too old to enjoy it. And it gives you the chance to have your own life, your own successes. I know you’re proud of what you’ve done, and I know you love the inn. But did you really want to work there for the rest of your life? You always said you couldn’t wait to get out of there.”

I sighed. “I know. And I actually believed it, too. Right up until the moment that I heard it would be gone.” I rubbed at my forehead. “And I
hate
the way it happened.”

“It sucks,” Emily agreed. “Feeling like you were forced into it.”

We were all quiet for a minute while we sipped our beer. After a while, I noticed Chris and Emily sharing what they seemed to think were covert glances over my head. Chris would raise his eyebrows at her and Emily would shake her head.

“What the hell is going on, you guys?” I asked.

Emily colored slightly and Chris looked down. “Uh, we were just wondering what happened with John,” Emily said. “You called him a jerk before.”

I grimaced. “He totally screwed me over, is what happened.” I explained about John’s firm working for the developers and Emily’s mouth dropped open.

“Are you kidding me?” she asked. “He was working for them this whole time?”

“Well, not exactly,” I said. “He says they didn’t bring him onto the account until two weeks ago, a week before the deal happened. They had him handle the purchase of Betty’s place. That’s when he realized what they were up to.”

“So he knew a week before it happened and didn’t tell you?” Chris asked.

“Yeah. He says he couldn’t find the right time.”

They were both quiet, and I took another drink. “The thing is,” I finally burst out. “I could maybe understand that, you know? Freaking out and not knowing how to tell someone bad news like that. But to wait a whole week!”

“It’s inexcusable,” Emily agreed. “So how did you leave it?”

I thought of our fight, my stomach dropping at the memory. “I left him,” I said quietly. “I told him this was the last straw. If he couldn’t be bothered to make me a real part of his life, I wasn’t interested in trying to work through the betrayal.”

“Wow,” Emily said, watching my face. “That must have been really hard.”

I shrugged and took another sip of my beer. “He didn’t ask me to stay, so I guess that showed me how he feels.” I thought about the things he had said, and implied, about my character and felt a wave of nausea. I was embarrassed just thinking about it, and I certainly didn’t want them to know about how he had seen me. Or about the way I had still asked him to make me a part of his life after he had admitted it.