Some Call It Fate Page 6

  “I was taking photos for my blog update.”

  “And?”

  “There is no ‘and,’” I said and looked at my shoes. There was a sprinkle of mud on both tips, most likely from my farm visit today. I made a mental note to clean them when I got home tonight.

  “Landon was there. And you aren’t looking at me, which means you’re hiding something.”

  I looked up, deciding I just needed to rip the Band-Aid off and hope for the best. He couldn’t break up with me since we weren’t together, anyway. And it was an accident. It wasn’t like I ripped my clothes off in front of Landon.

  “Fine. But don’t go weird on me. I forgot the dress that I wanted to take a photo of, so I took one of the one I was wearing. And Landon walked in on me in my bra and panties.” I rushed to get the last part out and tried to take a step back, but his hold had turned ironclad.

  “He saw you in your underwear?” he growled, back to looking like he was ready to blow a gasket.

  “What if I say yes?”

  “For God’s sake, Maisie, what is wrong with you?”

  “With me? What is wrong with you?”

  Oliver released my hand, and I instantly felt the loss of his warmth. If I believed in soul mates, then I would say without a speck of doubt that he was mine. But that stuff didn’t exist. Especially not for me. And I didn’t believe in it, anyway.

  “What would you say if another woman saw me in only my boxers?”

  “Nothing.” I would rip her eyes out and make her eat them.

  “Stop lying to me,” Oliver roared.

  “I’m not.” Because I would probably just beat her senseless with the arm I also ripped off earlier.

  “What do you think this is?” he asked, pointing between us.

  “Two people arguing on the street for all of Humptulips to talk about tomorrow?”

  “Stop being a smartass.” Oliver ran a hand through his hair and started pacing. “I know you think we’re only a hookup, but it never was and never will be. The sooner you accept that, the better off we’ll both be.”

  “The sooner I accept what? Are you trying to tell me how to feel about us? You’re delusional. And I’m leaving.”

  I tried to stomp away, but he stopped me with an arm around my waist. “Stop running away.”

  “I’m not,” I said and tried to get my feet back on solid ground so I could make a run for it. “We can just go back to being friends. Phone friends. Not real-life friends. Because I think we should just stay away from each other for a while.”

  He held me tighter to him. “I don’t want to be just friends. I know what you taste like. I know what you feel like. I know what you look like without your clothes on. And I love it all, so no to being friends.”

  I felt a deep inhalation on my back from where Oliver held me against his chest. “Okay, let’s do this your way. You have until Friday to get your head out of your ass. Then I’m coming for you.”

  He set me back on my feet and walked away. Walked. Away. Walked. The fuck. Away. Like we didn’t just entertain all of Humptulips.

  Now everyone would know he had poked me with his stick. Pricked me with his dick. Struck me with his hammer. God help me, but I needed to make that therapy appointment and stop talking like I never had sex before.

  So I did the only thing I could and walked home, making myself Pop-Tarts for dinner even though Sunshine made perfectly edible lasagna.

  “Did you sleep with my brother?”

  My eyes went wide, and I took a step back. Anna’s chest was rising and falling from the deep breaths she took, and her hands were balled into tight fists. I took another step back. She had a mean right hook, something I found out last summer when someone got frisky with her at a bar we were at.

  “Maybe a little?” I said, but it ended up sounding like a question.

  Damn, the Humptulips gossip line worked fast. It was only five in the morning, and Anna had cornered me against the front door I was trying to get out of for my pretend run.

  She pinched her nose and took another deep inhale before looking at me again. “A little? How can you only sleep with him a little? Either you did or you didn’t. Now which is it?”

  “It was an accident. It just happened.”

  She made a choked sound between a laugh and a growl. “An accident that made you fuck him? That’s your excuse?”

  “We met. Our clothes came off. The rest I’m not comfortable discussing with you, being his sister and all. At least that’s how it happened the first time.”

  “The first time?” she yelled and narrowed her eyes.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “You should have told me.”

  “I know. And I’ve felt awful for the past five and a bit months.” It was closer to six months, but five sounded a little better.

  “Five months? Five months?” she yelled, and I decided putting more space between us would be an excellent idea.

  “It wasn’t like we had an affair. We just had casual sex whenever we saw each other.” Which was pretty much every day. But she didn’t need to know that little insignificant detail either.

  “Because that makes this so much better,” she groaned. “He’s been through enough. He doesn’t need someone else using him.”

  “Whoa, I’m not using him. We have an agreement. Maybe I should go,” I said, trying to find the doorknob behind my back. Better not to take my eyes off her. She seemed calm enough right now, but that could just be a ploy to catch me unaware. “Should I go? Or stay? I mean, if you want to talk about this more, I guess I could skip my run.”

  She waved me off and walked toward the kitchen. “I need time to think about your punishment. And it will start with helping me out at the party on Saturday. You’re baking three pies.”

  “But I—”

  She turned and glared at me, and I stopped the excuse that would come out of my mouth.

  “I’d be delighted to bake three pies for you.”

  Satisfied with my answer, Anna left, and I all but stumbled out the door.

  I started jogging to the end of the road, just in case Anna was looking out the window. I made it to Sweet Dreams without running into anyone else. It was still dark, so not many people would venture outside yet.

  “Morning, Rayna,” I greeted the best baker in the world.

  “Morning, darling. Still pretending to train for a marathon, I see.”

  “Yeah, sorry about that. But I’ll help you fill up the display cases. To buy your silence, of course.”

  She chuckled and handed me a tray as soon as I rounded the counter. “There you go. Vanilla slices, brownies, and chocolate delights in the first row, muffins in the second.”

  I started lining up the amazing-smelling pastries and debated whether it would be too much to get one of each. I could always save some for lunch. That way I didn’t have to go out again to buy any.

  “You talked to Willa lately?” I asked, curious how my best friend’s trip was going. Her phone reception was spotty while she was traveling. That combined with the fact that I had been a shitty friend who didn’t answer her phone when she had reception meant I had hardly talked to her since she left to travel around Europe with Jameson.

  “Not for a few days. Last I heard she was camping at some giant lake in Italy. Or was it Austria?”

  “Lago di Garda?”

  “Maybe? I can’t remember. She thinks she knows how to speak Italian now and throws in all these words I can’t understand.”

  “Ha, that’ll wear off soon, don’t worry. Remember when she tried to learn Japanese when she first started studying? She lasted three weeks.”

  Rayna laughed. “True. But how are you doing? The opening is coming up soon, right?”

  I groaned and decided I would get one of each pastry I was currently putting in the display case. It was either that or actually doing exercise, like running, to help with the stress. And nobody needed a collapsed lung. So it was still a no to going for an actual run. Sugar was a
much better emotional crutch.

  “Theodore Roosevelt said, ‘Believe you can and you’re halfway there,’ and I have to agree with him. Just believe in yourself and the shop opening will be a success.”

  “Have you been staying in and reading your inspirational quotes again?”

  Rayna was obsessed with reading them and then handing them out like the baked goods at her store. She had a memory like an elephant, and once she read about something, she never forgot it. Her current reading material included mostly self-help books and motivational quotes, so she was giving out a lot of advice.

  “Of course I have. There’s not much else to do in this town once you’re too old to hit the college bars. Only one other place to get a drink around here, and I won’t be caught dead going there.”

  “It’s been years.”

  “All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given us,” Rayna quoted. “J. R. R. Tolkien.”

  “Not sure I’m following your quote speech. Translation, please?”

  “It means my time is too precious to waste in a shithole.”

  “Did you just use the word shithole?”

  Rayna was one of the nicest, most even-tempered people I had ever met. She would give a stranger the shirt off her back and not even worry about how to get home only half dressed.

  She waved me off and went out the back, saying, “Never mind. I have to get more salted caramel slices.”

  I finished stacking the case and made myself a takeout container. Rayna came back, and I paid her for my box of heaven.

  “Same time tomorrow?” she asked while I put my money back in the small pouch in my running shorts. The damn thing was so small I struggled to get anything inside every damn time. Did whoever design them think all women had tiny little fairy hands? Because I couldn’t get anything in there without losing half of it.

  I grabbed my box and blew her a kiss. “See you tomorrow.”

  “Bye, honey.”

  I skip-walked back to the house and silently opened the front door. Hopefully, Anna had gone back to bed. She rarely got up before eight. She worked just down the road and started at nine, which meant she could have daily sleep-ins. Her being up to yell at me meant she was pretty upset about Oliver and me, but fingers crossed she had gone back to bed instead of stewing on her anger.

  I was in luck, and everything was quiet when I snuck back inside. I took off my shoes as quietly as I could without letting go of my cakes and made my way up the stairs. When I still couldn’t hear any movement, I sprinted to my room and shut the door, wincing at the loud click when it closed.

  After a quick shower and long deliberation on what to wear, I took my remaining two cakes and walked to my shop.

  “Really? The floors are done? And there’s nothing else? What about the sink? I think it was dripping the other day.”

  “The sink is fine, girlie. Your shop is ready to go,” Barry said and continued packing up his tools, ignoring my mental breakdown.

  “What about the drawer in the second row, fourth from the top? It was hard to open yesterday. Maybe you need to fix that first before you say you’re officially done. Someone could get hurt if it’s stuck, and I yank it out. What if it hits someone on the head because I pulled too hard? I don’t have insurance that covers accidental death. At least I don’t think I do.”

  “You’ll be fine. I’m sure you can use any of the other hundreds of drawers instead of that one. And I’m definitely done. I’ve done all I can, and it’s damn good work too. Make sure to invite me to your opening. And there better be one of your pies. Just don’t try to cook anything.”

  He finished putting the last of his tools in his bag and got up. “Now I have to fix Mrs. Pritchard’s front porch. One of her steps broke. The entire thing is a hazard and should be replaced, but the stubborn woman won’t let me do more than fix whatever breaks. I best get going. She doesn’t like it if I’m late.”

  “But you weren’t supposed to finish until tomorrow. How would she know that you’re running late? You could just keep hanging out here. Just in case something goes wrong. Not that I’m saying you did a poor job. You did an amazing job, but nobody’s perfect.”

  “There’re those things called a phone. Sometimes I call people with it to let them know I’m on my way,” the smartass said, then grinned at me. “Bye, Maisie. I’ll see you at the opening.”

  My heartless handyman left without another word, not caring about my precarious emotional state. See if I cared. I would definitely call him when something broke.

  My phone vibrated, and I checked who messaged me, hoping it was Oliver. Stupid girl.

  Willa: You better answer your fudging forking fruitcake phone or I will hurt you when I get back.

  Before I had a chance to message back, another text came in.

  Willa: We are doing an intervention when I get back. Everyone knows I love a good intervention. And you are long overdue for one. This poop is unacceptable.

  Maisie: Why aren’t you using your big girl words? I thought Europeans were much more open?

  Willa: Nobody makes me do anything. I’ve just grown up. And open isn’t the word I’d use when describing Europeans. More like free-for-all. They take personal space and throw it out the window. Did you know there are approximately 2,398 nude beaches in Germany alone? And they don’t tell you that shit. It’s like a lucky draw. You show up to any beach and people could be naked or clothed. You just never know.

  I laughed and couldn’t wait to hear more about her adventures. I also couldn’t wait to tell her about the shop. But that had to wait until she was back.

  Maisie: When are you coming back? I miss you.

  Willa: Back in ten days. Jameson wanted to stay longer, but I just can’t do it. Need to check on Dad.

  Maisie: Want me to call the station to make sure he’s not locked up?

  Willa: Could you? That would make you the bestest of best friends, and I would be forever in your debt. I can’t ask Stella because she’s gotten herself in a bit of a mess with Mason.

  Maisie: What happened with Mason?

  Willa: What didn’t happen? Need more than a few messages to tell you, but have to go because Jameson is taking me to see the Colosseum. I hope I don’t see blood.

  Maisie: You realize there’s been no fighting there for a long time?

  Willa: And you realize how hard blood is to get out, right? You never know where it takes up shop and scares tourists.

  Maisie: Right, of course. I hope you’ll be safe. And that you’re having the best time.

  Willa: There are no words for how much I love this trip. And Jameson is everything. Where is this damn heart emoji when you need it? Was it in one of the lists? Anyway, no time to look for it, just pretend I inserted about twenty heart emojis. Okay, gotta run. Love your disloyal ass.

  Maisie: Promise to be better. Have so much to tell you. Love your crazy ass.

  Willa, Stella, and I used to be inseparable. But now that Willa had been gone for a few weeks and Stella was working, we hadn’t seen each other in a while. I missed my friends. And it was time to tell them about the shop.

  As soon as Willa was back.

  “Do you have the pies?” Anna asked.

  “Right here,” I answered as I made my way into our backyard. It was a warmish night, and Anna was moving the party outside.

  “What about the balloons? Why aren’t they hanging up yet? I thought you said you wanted to repent for your sins. Forgetting half the decorations is not the way to do it.”

  I put the pies on the table and dug the balloons out of my jeans pockets, stifling the sigh that wanted to escape. This making amends business was hard. I wonder if she gave Oliver as hard a time as she did me.

  At least she gave me an hour to get dressed and put some makeup on. I liked to call tonight’s outfit casual elegance. I wore black skinny jeans and a white peasant blouse with three-quarter sleeves and embroidery around the hem. A silver lariat-style necklace with two small blue stones
at the bottom added a little bling.

  I finished it all off with light makeup, my hair was flowing down my back in loose curls, and I was wearing my lucky shoes—blush-colored, impossibly high Jimmy Choos. They were a graduation gift from my parents and only came out of their box on special occasions. And I felt tonight was one such occasion, since it was likely Oliver would show up. Also, it was Friday.

  I hadn’t heard from him since the day of the incident. Either he’d had enough of my drama or he was doing what he said he would and was giving me space. I didn’t know which option I preferred.

  Instead of wondering what would happen, I started blowing up the balloons and placing them around the backyard. Anna wanted some in the trees and around the buffet and the rest on the stairs leading outside. I didn’t know what was up with her balloon obsession, but as she pointed out not so nicely, I had a job to do, and that didn’t include asking questions.

  My head was spinning, and I had to catch my breath when I finally finished with all the balloons in the packet. Anna had put up lanterns and a giant banner that said “Happy Birthday.” She had also ordered a gigantic birthday cake that she made me pick up earlier today from Rayna.

  But I was down with that one because it meant I could grab a few things while I was there. At least that would tide me over until I could snag a piece of birthday cake.

  We were still putting out chairs when the first guests arrived. I didn’t know them, but Anna seemed beyond excited that they were there. She introduced them as her work friends and took them to get some drinks.

  “Maisie.” The voice startled me into dropping the chair I was carrying.

  “Oliver,” I squeaked and turned around only to be met with an ache I couldn’t explain. I had just seen him a few days ago.

  How could I have missed him so much? What is wrong with me?

  I made a vow to never let anyone crush me again. A vow that meant something to me. But here I was already feeling more for him than I ever did for my ex-fiancé. And I agreed to marry that shithead.