Some Call It Fate Read online

  Copyright

  Some Call It Fate

  © 2020 Sarah Peis

  Published by Hexatorial

  Developmental Editing: Natasha Orme

  Copy Editing: Hot Tree Editing

  Cover Art: Vanessa Mendozzi Design

  Formatting: Champagne Book Design

  ISBN epub 978-0-6481085-8-0

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any manner whatsoever without written permission from the author. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s wild imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Epilogue

  About the Author

  Other books by Sarah Peis

  Thank you

  To Chocolate fudge mug brownies. Don’t ever change, you’re perfect the way you are.

  “This will never happen again,” I said and buttoned up my blouse. “I’m serious. We’re done.”

  “Are you as done as you were last time you said you were done or the time before that?”

  I cut my eyes to Oliver, who was still in bed, sitting up against the cushions, the sheet pooled around his lap. I debated if it was a good idea to pull the sheet down since I wouldn’t mind one last glance at the goods. After all, this would be the last time we would see each other without our clothes on. I meant it this time. This was it.

  “I have to go,” I said and brushed my hair back, looking for my purse. I spotted it under the table where it landed when I threw it into the room as soon as we entered. Like so many times before, the moment the door closed behind us, we came together like addicts, wasting no time to get our next fix. And that was all this was—an unhealthy addiction that needed to stop.

  The rustle of the bedsheets told me Oliver was getting up. I had to hustle to get out of there, because if he came too close, I would fall back into his orbit and do something I’d regret later.

  A warm hand landed on my back, and I tensed, purse forgotten. “Wh-What are you doing?” I stuttered and looked over my shoulder at what must have been one of the most perfect men I had ever seen. At over six feet, with dark, almost black hair, sapphire blue eyes, and a deep voice that I could listen to forever, he was sex personified. We had been seeing each other nearly every day for the last six months. I insisted it was all casual; he was sure we were more than that. But his time in Humptulips was temporary, hence why he had been living at a bed-and-breakfast since he arrived.

  Even though I knew better, I let myself get sucked into another relationship that had no future. Something I now had to pay for. Because despite my declarations that this would never be more than a casual hookup, I had developed feelings. Ooey, gooey, disgusting feelings that made me dissolve into a puddle of want every time I looked at his beautiful angular face with his high cheekbones and that dimple in his left cheek.

  And Maisie Slater didn’t do feelings anymore. Not after getting her heart smashed and pulverized not once but twice in her short life. Also, Maisie needed to stop talking about herself in third person.

  Before I made another mistake and fell back into bed with him, I turned and ran as fast as my untrained short legs would take me. The door was unlocked, since we didn’t have time to lock it when we came inside. Guess that happened when you were too busy ripping your clothes off and kissing and sucking every inch of skin you could get your mouth on.

  But I wasn’t going there. Nope. Instead, I concentrated on running in my boots with impossibly high heels. But they looked kickass, and I got them from one of my friends from college, Lisa, who was trying out a new line. It paid to have trendy friends in even trendier places. Unless you needed to run away.

  I burst out onto the road and swiveled my head from left to right, resembling a scene from the Exorcist. Which would be the least likely path Oliver would think I’d take? I saw the sign for Drake’s Garage and pushed my legs to go as fast as they could carry me. Which wasn’t quick, though better than walking.

  The garage was a bit out of town, and so was the bed-and-breakfast Oliver was staying at. For once in my life, luck seemed to be on my side, because one of my best friends, Stella, was working at the garage for a few weeks. Oliver hadn’t met any of my friends so I thought he wouldn’t know to look for me there. I burst into her office, shouting, “Stella, hide me. Now.”

  And since she was one of the good ones, she pushed me under her desk and put the chair in front of me, asking no questions. I was small enough to fit without a problem and let out a deep breath.

  “I’ll explain later,” I said while curling up into a ball. This was definitely one of the low points in my life. Damn you, Oliver.

  The huge desk was enclosed on three sides, which made it an excellent place to hide. I heard Stella’s voice above me, keeping up the charade. “Sorry, we’re closed.”

  “Where is Maisie?” Oliver’s deep voice sounded from the other side of the desk.

  “I don’t know. Have you tried the bakery three streets over?” she asked, never missing a beat. Damn, she was good.

  “I saw her run in here.”

  “Can I help you?” another voice asked. It sounded like Mason, but I wasn’t sure.

  “Hi, I’m Oliver Thorpe. I’m looking for Maisie.”

  “As in Thorpe Holdings?” maybe-Mason asked. There was awe in his voice. Why was there awe in his voice? Did he know something I didn’t?

  “The very one,” Oliver responded.

  “Nice to meet you. If you want to book your car, Stella is happy to do that for you.”

  “No she’s not. Stella needs to close the office and go home,” my bestest of the best friends said.

  “Thanks, but I don’t need any work done on my car. Only bought it a few weeks ago,” Oliver said. “I really need to talk to Maisie though.”

  “Her name is Stella,” maybe-Mason said.

  “Nice to meet you, Stella. Now can I talk to Maisie?”

  I was getting uncomfortable but was too afraid to move. It was humiliating enough being a grown-ass woman who was hiding under a desk.

  The muffled conversation continued, and then Stella said, “Not sure when I saw her last, sorry.”

  Gotta love her commitment. But at this stage, we both knew the jig was up. Yet here I was, still crammed under her desk.

  “Look, I saw her run in here. I know she’s hiding so she won’t have to talk to me,” Oliver said, and I heard something land on the desk. “Can you make sure she gets this?”

  I heard Stella say, “Sure. No problem.” At least the torture was almost over.

  “Thanks. And tell her I’ll see her at my sister’s birthday party,” Oliver said.

  After a few more seconds, the front door closed, and Stella leaned down and pushed the chair out of the way, grinning.

  “Who the hell was that?” she asked.

  I st
ruggled out from underneath the desk and avoided eye contact. “Just some guy.”

  “Liar. I want to know what the hell is going on,” she said, knowing full well there was more to the story.

  “Nothing is going on. He thinks he has some sort of claim on me, but he doesn’t. Now, can we forget this embarrassing scene ever happened? And promise not to tell anyone.”

  Stella grinned and pointed behind me. “If you can convince him to keep quiet, you might have a shot.”

  I jumped when I saw one of the owners of Drake’s Garage. I had already forgotten about the third voice and had hoped against hope that it wasn’t Mason. “What are you doing in the office? Don’t you have your mechanic thing to do?”

  Mason narrowed his eyes at me. “It’s my garage, and I can be wherever I want to be. And right now, I want to be in the office because seems to me like Stella forgot she works here. Not sure why you’re here either.”

  I stood up straight, not letting him intimidate me. “I’m visiting Stella to make sure you haven’t made her quit yet.”

  “Still working on it.”

  “Lucky I need the money,” Stella grumbled.

  “Has Mommy finally cut you off?” Mason asked.

  “Why don’t you get back to whatever it was you were doing before you came in here?” she asked, her face pinched.

  “Gladly,” Mason drawled and left.

  As soon as the door closed behind him with a loud bang, Stella’s shoulders slumped forward and she exhaled loudly.

  “Seems like I’m not the only one keeping secrets,” I said.

  “Ha, so you admit to keeping Mr. GQ a secret. I knew it.”

  I grinned at Stella and took her hand. “Come on, seems like we have a lot of catching up to do.”

  “Should we head to The Grill?” she asked.

  “What kind of question is that?” I answered and grinned.

  Stella laughed and squeezed my hand. “I missed you these last few weeks. No more overseas internships.”

  “I missed you too, Estrella, and there are no more trips in my future. Europe is overrated anyway. Now, I hope you have your car here, because Lincoln dropped me off.”

  Stella’s dad was Colombian and died when she was little. Her mom erased any traces of him from their lives, which included speaking Spanish. Since Stella had already lost so much, Willa and I tried to find little ways of using Spanish words here and there. The nickname Estrella stuck after the first time Willa called her that, and now we all used it.

  Lincoln dropped me off at my store this morning on his way into town. I was supposed to catch a ride back to the house with him, but Oliver picked me up from the store, and here I was without a car.

  Lincoln was one of my three roommates and a computer nerd. He also owned the house we were all living in. Our relationship had turned from roommates to friends, and I loved hanging out with him. He was a friendly guy who went above and beyond for his friends. There used to be four of us in the house, but Des, our fourth roommate, got a job in New York and moved last month.

  “Lincoln, huh?” Stella teased me on our way out.

  I groaned. “Don’t start.”

  Getting a place where I not only had my own bathroom but also enough room to never see my roommates if I didn’t want to was divine intervention.

  Lincoln bought the house—if you could call a six-bedroom, seven-bathroom mansion a house—a few years ago and renovated it. He said it was too big for just him, and now there were four of us living there.

  “How did you manage to keep your car?” I asked and got into the passenger seat. Things with her mom had been tense, but ever since Stella left home, it was war. Her mom had cut her off from all her accounts, canceled her credit cards, and blacklisted her from all businesses so she couldn’t get a job anywhere. Well, except at Drake’s Garage. And that was only thanks to Willa, who I knew convinced her boyfriend, Jameson—Mason’s brother—to let her work there while they were traveling.

  “It was in my name, so my mother couldn’t really take it from me. She tried—of course she would—but there was nothing she could do. I’ll have to sell it though, if I don’t get a job soon.”

  “Honey, you’ve got a job.”

  “You know what I mean. A job that won’t end in a few weeks.”

  She had a point. But at least that would give her time to figure out what she wanted to do.

  “Are you still staying at Willa’s?” I asked.

  Stella nodded. “She’s at Jameson’s most of the time, so she’s happy she doesn’t have to pay full rent. But I have to find something soon.”

  We made it to The Grill and hid in a booth toward the back. Neither of us was in the mood for small talk. And since we had both lived here our whole lives—Stella out on a farm and I in a crazy hippie household—we knew pretty much everyone, and everyone knew us.

  “Tell me what’s going on with Oliver,” she said.

  “What the hell happened with Mason?” I asked at the same time.

  I wasn’t ready to talk about Oliver and was way too curious to find out what the hell was going on with her and Mason. I knew him as an easygoing guy, but he was more fire-spitting dragon when I saw him at the garage. At least Stella knew she had to give me something before I started talking.

  “Fine. I’ll go first. Not that there’s much to explain. It’s simple really. Mason hates me. I hate Mason. We make each other’s lives miserable whenever we run into each other. He thinks I’m a spoiled brat, and I think he has a chip on his shoulder the size of the Rocky Mountains. We only have to put up with each other while I work at the garage, so hopefully there won’t be any casualties.”

  I laughed, and she narrowed her eyes at me. “Hey, stop that. I wasn’t finished. I had a lot more to complain about.”

  I just bet she did. But I also knew the way Mason had looked at her at the garage was not the look of hate. More like lust. Things were about to get interesting. And since I had put a stop to my romantic life, I could just live vicariously through Stella. “Oh, Estrella, there is no way that guy hates you. And besides, he’s one of the nicest guys I’ve ever met. No way would he be mean to you. You sure you’re not overreacting?”

  “Don’t even go there. This is not a case of pulling someone’s pigtails because you like them. He is making my life miserable. I know for a fact that he can’t stand me, because I overheard him talking to Landon.”

  That stopped my amusement in its tracks. Landon was another mechanic at the garage, and usually the life of the party. He was good friends with Willa, and we all hung out together on occasion. He was a good guy and I liked him. I was surprised he didn’t defend my friend. “He said that? And meant it? He wasn’t drunk or something?”

  “Yes, yes, and no. A few weeks ago, I was waiting for Willa in her office, and they walked past. He said I was a spoiled rich girl who didn’t know what hard work was.”

  “He said that? Are you sure you heard it right?”

  “I was standing on the other side of the door. And it was definitely him. I’d recognize his voice anywhere. Besides Jameson, he’s the only one I know who has a voice that deep.”

  “I’m sorry you heard that. What a little shithead.”

  “Don’t go and yell at him. Please, Maisie, promise me. That’s not the reason why I told you.”

  I blew out a breath but nodded. “Fine. I won’t say anything. You know he doesn’t have a clue what he’s talking about, right?”

  “I guess so. It still hurt hearing him say it though.”

  I knew how much it hurt Stella when people thought of her as spoiled. She never talked about it much, but from the few things she had told us about her family, I knew she had it tough.

  “Stop. I know you. You are a good person, and your heart is made of lollipops and sunshine. You work hard, and you don’t expect handouts. It doesn’t matter where you come from. What matters is what you do with your life.”

  She avoided my eyes, but at least she hadn’t shut down yet li
ke so many times in the past when the topic came up. “I know. It’s just hard not to feel like a failure. Especially when the only things I own are my clothes and a car.”

  “So you’re just like a lot of other college grads out there. Don’t put yourself down like that.” And I couldn’t really say I was in a much better position.

  “Thanks, Maisie,” she said and looked at me. “You know I love you, right?”

  “Of course you do. Why wouldn’t you? I’m pretty awesome. Now let’s order some food, because I’m starving, and I already waved Leslie off twice when she tried to take our order. If I do it a third time, she won’t come back.”

  At least she didn’t push me about Oliver, and I stole some of her food while she wasn’t looking. The night wasn’t a complete write-off.

  “I’m so sorry, but I won’t be able to make it to your birthday.” Lies. All lies. I was such a lousy liar face, even Lancelot the overweight—and usually nonjudgmental—ginger cat was giving me the stink eye. He was Lincoln’s, but we had all adopted him. I got up from the couch we were both sitting on, just in case he got swipey. He had a displeased look on his face, which meant he could strike at any moment. And I couldn’t afford the distraction of a cat attack when I still had more lying to do.

  The phone felt heavy in my hand, but it was best to get this over with now. And it was easier if I didn’t have to look at her. I was a terrible liar, and if I had to do it in person, she would figure me out in less than three seconds.

  “We live together in the house where the party will be,” Anna said. She sounded confused. I couldn’t blame her. I was confusing myself. And if I told Anna the actual reason I couldn’t show my face at her birthday, she would never speak to me again. And I liked her. She was my friend. I wasn’t ready to tell her all the unspeakable things I had done. Like sleeping with her brother. Multiple times.

  The same brother who only came to Humptulips because she’d moved here. He obviously cared about her, having uprooted his entire life to be closer to her. And I knew they had a great relationship. But she never told me how she got stuck in our tiny town.