Six Rules: Book Two in the SIX Series (16 page)

          
As we headed down Dixon Drive, something caught my eye.
“Stop the car, Johnny!” I exclaimed, almost sounding panicked.

          
“Oh no, not in my Camero, Mal,” Johnny said, bringing the
car to a screeching halt on the side of the road. “You’re going to throw up?”
he asked as he reached across me and flung open my side of the door.

          
“No, no. I mean, maybe later. But that truck,” I said
pointing to the large black pick-up parked in front of the vacant lot across
the road. “That’s him.”

          
“What?” Johnny asked, clearly confused.

          
“Are you talking about Greyson? How do you know if that’s
even his truck? Why is he just sitting in front of that empty building?” Megan
asked from the backseat. “That seems a little creepy.”

          
“I know that’s him. That’s the building he wants to buy
for his catering business. He took me here one night,” I answered, wondering if
now was really a good time to talk to him. I can’t say the alcohol I had
tonight made me a nicer person, so maybe this wasn’t a good time to vent to
him.

          
“Mallory,” Steve chimed in, “are you sure you want to do
this? You had a lot to drink tonight. Are you sure you know what you want to
say to him?”

          
“Yes, I know exactly what I want to say to him,” I replied,
angrily unbuckling my seatbelt and climbing out of the car. “Will you just give
me a few minutes? I’ll be brief,” I said to Johnny, who replied with a nod.

          
“Mal, I just don’t think…” I slammed the car door as Megan
tried to call me back in, ignoring anyone else’s advice. I was really mad at
him, and I just wanted the last word.

          
I walked across the street to the vacant parking lot where
his truck was parked in front of the empty building. It was in the same spot we
parked when he first showed the place to me.

          
I walked up to the driver’s side window and angrily
pounded my fist on it. The door opened, and Greyson sat there with a surprised
look on his face.

          
“Mallory?” He climbed out of his seat and stood squarely
in front of me. “Mal, I am so sorry. I just want to explain what…”

          
“Don’t bother. I came here to explain something to you,” I
said firmly, interrupting him. He stared at me with his moist blue eyes. “Are
you crying?” I asked in a harsh tone.

          
Greyson closed his eyes and tilted his head back, unsure
of what to say. “I just… I was thinking about everything, and I…”

          
“I’m sorry, that was a rhetorical question I guess. I
don’t want you to think I’m interested in your answer,” I said, putting my
hands on my hips. “I just want to tell you that I think you’re an asshole.”

          
“Whoa, you haven’t even heard my side of the story yet.
Can I just explain to you what happened? I don’t even want the bid, Mallory.
It’s all yours,” he said genuinely.

          
“I don’t want your pity, Greyson. That’s not what I’m
doing here,” I said sternly.

          
“How did you know I was here? You came to find me?” he
said, narrowing his eyes at me.

          
“No, I was out with my friends and I happened to see your
truck. I had no intention of ever speaking to you again, honestly. But after
the shots I’ve had tonight, I finally feel like saying what’s on my mind. What
you did was despicable, Greyson. You are a bad person,” I began. “You didn’t
even warn me. Look, I know we have similar jobs and it’s not out of the
question that our paths would have crossed in this way. But you knew how bad I
wanted this. You never even said a word about it, Greyson. And that sucks. A
lot. That’s the worst part. You knew I would be crushed, and you didn’t even
bother to soften the blow. Worst boyfriend ever,” I said, staring straight at
him.
 
          
“Do you remember the day we
met? In the alley outside the back of the art gallery?” he asked, putting his
hand on my arm.

          
“Are you really getting all nostalgic on me right now? I
hated you that day,” I said honestly. “It doesn’t exactly give me a warm fuzzy
feeling, if that’s what you’re going for right now. Nice try. I wanted nothing
to do with you.”

          
“Right, because of the desserts. I had all those dessert
boxes in the back of my van, remember?” he explained, as if I would have
possibly forgotten about that. It was only a few weeks ago.

          
“Greyson, I really don’t want to relive that day. Please.”

          
“Will you just let me finish? I just want to tell you,” he
began.

          
“I’m not interested in your explanation, Greyson,” I
responded curtly, cutting him off. “I don’t want this. I want nothing to do
with this whole thing. I don’t want to compete with you. At first I kind of
liked the fact that we had similar businesses. I thought it was nice that I
wouldn’t have to explain my erratic hours to you, or my crazy time commitments.
I knew you would understand all of that, and I liked that about you. But I’m
essentially competing with you now. I hate that. There’s no way this will
work,” I said honestly. “And that’s all I wanted to tell you. In case I didn’t
get my point across when I was mad earlier, I am here to make it very clear to
you now. This isn’t working. This will never work.”

          
“It will work, Mal,” he said, staring directly into my
eyes. “I already told them I didn’t want the dessert bid and that it should all
go to you.”

          
“I don’t want that either Greyson. Now it’s just a pity
vote. That’s not who I am. If you won the dessert bid, then you should get it.
That’s not what this issue is about,” I said, still trying to explain how I
felt.

          
“Well if you won’t take my portion of the bid, then I’ll
at least give you the money from it,” he said sympathetically.

          
“Money?” I replied furiously. “You think this is about the
money? I don’t want your money, Greyson. That just proves how clueless you are
about this entire thing. Keep the bid, and keep your own damn money.”

          
“I don’t even want it, Mal. I don’t want any of it. Not if
it will ruin this,” he said sincerely.

          
“But you would take it if it had nothing to do with me,
wouldn’t you?” I asked directly.
    

          
“Honestly,” he replied hesitantly, “yes. Of course I
would. The reason I thought about getting into desserts in the first place is
because it would make me a lot more marketable. So it’s not like that was ever
out of the question for me.”

          
“And this is my point, Greyson. I don’t want to do this,”
I said, my voice finally sounding all choked up. A small tear slid down my
cheek.

          
“Mallory, just tell me what to do. Tell me how to fix
this,” he said, leaning down and putting his face near mine. He whispered in my
ear. “What can I do to fix this? Anything, tell me anything. I will never make
another dessert again if that’s what you want.”

          
“I think it would be best to just move on. Head our
separate ways,” I said shrugging.

          
“Or how about the opposite? Why can’t we just move in the
same direction? I’ll buy the building, and we could work together, and
eventually we could…”

          
“Greyson, your ideas are awful. That would never work. I
can’t even stand you for three consecutive days without something going totally
wrong. This relationship is toxic. It’s all about what you want. That’s not
fair,” I said, shaking my head. I looked over at Johnny’s Camero and saw Megan
waiving her hands at me from the back seat. “Look, I need to go. My friends are
waiting for me,” I said reluctantly.

          
“Can we just go out to dinner tomorrow night? Please?” he
asked sincerely. “I just want to tell you what actually happened.”

          
“Greyson, you can’t fix everything with dinner. Dinners
with you are wonderful. Really. But everything outside of that falls apart.
Look, I have to go,” I repeated. “It’s just not working out. But good luck with
the building and all that. And your business. You can mail me back my bird,” I
said with a smirk. Another slow tear fell down my face and I knew at that
moment I had to leave before I completely fell apart.

          
“I’m going to fix this, Mal,” he said confidently as I
walked away.

          
“Rule number six. No fixing me,” I said as I crossed the
street to Johnny’s car. I opened the door and climbed in. Before anyone could
even ask, tears poured down my face. We rode the rest of the way back to my
apartment in silence.

Chapter 22

          
Loud noises.

          
I awoke in a haze and rubbed my eyes, trying to clear the
fog. Everything still looked hazy.

          
Smoke.

          
I realized in that moment the smoke detector was going
off. Smoke continued to fill the room. I lifted my shirt collar around my mouth
and nose and immediately ran to the front door. The floor felt hot beneath my
feet, and within seconds, the air was filled with even more noise and panic.

          
I ran out the door and down my metal steps as fire engines
surrounded my building from every side. Within seconds, deep voices were
shouting orders, and men everywhere were pulling equipment off the trucks. Two
strong arms reached up and swooped my legs out from underneath me, and then…..

          
Darkness.

          
Voices. I could hear familiar voices. I opened my eyes,
anxious to know why I was in a hospital bed with my parents at my side. And
then there were the dreams… Cloudy dreams, full of danger, screaming, and
smoke.

          
A doctor quickly looked me over and told me I didn’t have
any severe injuries, other than some burns on my feet from running down my
metal stairs and some minor smoke inhalation. Apparently I passed out and had
been unconscious for several hours.

          
The worst part was, my parents had to tell me the bad
news. My bakery was gone. The fire was so bad there was nothing left of it. It
was torched, gutted, and empty. Exactly how my heart felt in this exact moment.

          
The doctors informed me the waiting room was full of
people waiting to see me. I felt too devastated to move my limbs. I was
relieved to hear my elderly tenants weren’t home at the time of the fire, so no
one was hurt. Or worse, dead. But I still felt like every piece of me,
everything I had been working so hard for, was disintegrated. I couldn’t talk
about it. Not now, not with a room full of people. All I wanted was silence. My
parents left the room, and I sobbed uncontrollably. For hours I just laid
there, weeping. I tried to fall asleep, but instead of vivid dreams, my mind
was blank. I guess there wasn’t much to dream about anymore.
 

          
My mom came into the room at some point, explaining to me
that my boyfriend had been out in the waiting room, waiting to see me for
hours. I tried explaining to her that I didn’t have a boyfriend, but she sensed
there was more to the story.

          
“He’s really handsome, Mallory. If he’s not your
boyfriend, why has he been waiting out there all this time? He was already out
there when we arrived at the hospital. You guys must be close?” she asked,
prying for more information.

          
“Mom, I really don’t want to talk about it. I don’t even
know that guy out there,” I answered, half telling the truth. I really felt as
though he was a complete stranger to me at this point. Everything had gone so
wrong from the beginning, so it wasn’t worth trying to explain to my mom that
he was just someone who ‘could have been’ something but wasn’t. My mom and I
were pretty close, but I just didn’t want to get into it. “Can you just tell
him to leave? Please?”

          
She nodded and kissed my forehead and I drifted back into
a restless sleep.

          
When I was finally released from the hospital that night,
my parents insisted I head back with them to California. I didn’t want that
though. I didn’t need anyone to coddle over me. All I wanted was for life to go
back to normal. Even if it couldn’t feel normal to me, I at least wanted it to
be normal for everyone else. Of course, with everything I had completely gone,
I wasn’t sure I would know normal anytime soon.

          
Despite my insistence that all my friends go home, they
all lingered around until they could hug me and be reassured I was okay. They
finally slowly trickled out, and Megan drove me back to her place. She insisted
I could stay as long as I needed to. As we pulled into her parking space, I
could see the outline of a man leaning up against the front door of her
apartment building.

          
“Sorry, Mal. I know you asked him to leave the hospital,”
Megan said quietly. I knew that meant it was Greyson. “But he was so
distraught. He came last night as soon as he heard about the fire and he stayed
all morning. He didn’t know where to go or what to do. He was really worried
about you.”

          
“Meg, you know all about our big fight. I don’t want to
see him. Why did you tell him to come here?” I asked, exhausted by the thought
of having to face him right now.

          
“You know I love you, and I’m always on your side, Mal.
But it seems like he’s really trying,” Megan responded sympathetically. “You
know that of all people, I’m not exactly big on the whole lovey-dovey romance
stuff. But he’s actually really trying here. Maybe you should just talk to him
for a minute? Just so he knows you’re okay?”

          
I unfastened my seatbelt, knowing Megan was probably
right. I was stubborn, sure, but I still had a strong sense of common courtesy.
He was probably exhausted too, if he really was at the hospital all this time.
He had probably been standing at her doorstep for at least an hour or two,
considering how long it took us to get out of the hospital once they discharged
me.

          
We climbed out of the car and Megan made her way inside
her apartment building, nodding at Greyson as she walked by. I saw him mouth
the words “thank you” as she passed. As he stepped towards me, I could see his
eyes looked moist.

          
“I’m sorry if you don’t want to see me,” Greyson said
apologetically. “But I couldn’t stay away. I just wanted to see you. I had to
make sure you were okay.”

          
“I’m fine, thanks. Look, I understand why you came, I do.
It’s a nice gesture. But we really don’t have to do this,” I said, crossing my
arms.

          
“Mal, I know you were really angry with me yesterday,” he
said hesitantly. “But I’m genuinely concerned about you. I was really scared.”

          
“Well now you can see I’m fine, so we’re good. You can
go.”

          
“Mallory, can we please just talk?” he asked softly.

          
“I said all I needed to last night, Greyson. Unless you’re
here to tell me you were right about all the old wiring in the bakery. They
think that’s what caused the fire, you know. Are you here to gloat about that?
That you warned me about those wires and I didn’t listen?” I said angrily.

          
“Mallory, no. What are you talking about? I didn’t even
know what I was talking about that day, it just came out of my mouth. I’m not
an electrician, it’s not like I know about that kind of thing. The fire wasn’t
your fault,” he said cautiously.

          
“Well if I had listened to you, maybe it wouldn’t have
happened, right? I feel like anytime you want to ‘talk,’ it’s to prove a
point.”

          
“No, Mallory, that’s not what this is. I was scared to
death. I didn’t know if you were hurt. No one at the hospital would tell me
anything since I’m not family. Your friends pretty much shunned me, who knows
what you’ve told them about me. Megan was the only one who would say a word to
me. Look, I didn’t come here to fight with you, or to make you be with me. I
just want to help you,” Greyson said sincerely.

          
“Well I already have a place to stay,” I said motioning
towards Megan’s apartment. “So I won’t need to shack up with you and your
non-dead fiancé.” I wasn’t sure why I said it, but I was still mad and those
words just fell out of my mouth.

          
“We’re back there, Mal? Really? Come on, what can I do?
Let me help you,” he repeated. “I really care about you. I want to make all of
this better.”

          
“Well everything I had went up in flames, Greyson. This
isn’t exactly an easy fix. Maybe you can fashion me a hand-crafted pair of
moccasins so I have some shoes to wear. Maybe you can knit me some sweaters so
I don’t have to wear Megan’s skimpy clothes. Maybe you can buy me a stove, so I
can someday actually cook food again. Shit, Greyson, this isn’t something you
can just ‘fix.’ I don’t need anything from you.” I stared at him angrily.

          
“Mallory, please. I know you’re mad. You’re mad at me, mad
at this entire situation. I get that. But I’ve already apologized for whatever
it is you think I’ve done wrong. And whether you forgive me or not, I still
want to help you. We can fix this,” he said softly,

          
“Fix what? My life? Or this broken relationship? I’m
pretty sure both of those things are purely a pile of ashes at this point,” I huffed.

          
“We can fix both, Mal. Please,” he pleaded.

          
“Do you want the napkin, Greyson? I already reminded you
about rule number six. Don’t fix me,” I said, walking towards the door to head
inside.

          
“The only rule I care about is Saturday. I still want you
to meet me at La Luna. I don’t care whether or not you
want
to be fixed,
Mallory. I am fixing this. Everything.” His voice trailed off as I walked
inside Megan’s apartment building and closed the door behind me.