Suede to Rest (11 page)

“How do you know that?”

“I was one of them. Got behind on the payments on the shop. Business was slow. I thought I was going to have to sell it. But when I went to the bank, they said the payments had been made for me. By him.”

“Why would he do that?” I asked. It was a generous move. Almost too generous. If I had been Charlie, I would have been suspicious. I was curious to find out why she wasn't.

“He said it was a loan, that he respected what I was trying to do by owning my own business and not asking for special treatment. I tried to fight the gesture because I didn't want to owe him anything, but he was persistent. Turns out his loan was what I needed to get through a tough couple of months. We worked out an arrangement.” She paused and took her eyes from the road for a second to look at me and wiggled her eyebrows, like
arrangement
had a secondary meaning. “In the meantime, business picked up and I paid him back. He still asks for the occasional favor, and I'm happy to oblige. It's the least I can do.”

I looked out the window again. She was being purposely vague, I guessed, because she liked having an audience for her story. I didn't want to admit that it bothered me that that “arrangement” might have involved something more than the exchange of money. It shouldn't bother me. A couple of times when Giovanni couldn't make the payroll expenses, I had to rely on Carson to float me through my debts. There had definitely been a price to pay for that. And even I had to admit that I didn't know much about Vaughn McMichael. He could be playboy of the year on the San Ladrón calendar for all I knew, and Charlie could be one of a number of women who liked him. If he was the son of a real estate tycoon who owned half of the town, then he surely had more to offer than those light-green-flecked-with-gold eyes, the angular cut of his jaw, and the broad shoulders that filled out his William and Mary sweatshirt.

“. . . besides, there aren't a lot of people around San Ladrón who can offer him what I can,” she finished. I silently cursed myself for tuning her out, but wondered for the briefest of seconds if this was part of Charlie's thing, baiting me to see how much dirt I really wanted.

We sat at a red light. She stared at me while waiting for the light to change. Based on our conversation, I wasn't sure anything I said would be kept between us girls. The last thing I wanted was for Vaughn to find out that I'd been asking about him.

“How about Adelaide Brooks? What do you think of her?” I asked. The light turned green but Charlie didn't notice.

“I don't want to talk about her,” she said. The driver behind us honked his horn, two short taps, and Charlie found the gas pedal.

“It's good to be in a position of power,” I said, when it became clear that she wasn't going to talk about Adelaide. “If you and Vaughn have a good thing, do what you have to do to keep it going.”

She threw her head back and laughed a long, throaty laugh. I fought the urge to ask what was so funny.

“I like you, Polyester. I hope you stick around.”

“Until you finish fixing my car I don't have much of a choice.”

“That means I'm in a position of power over you, too. Good to know. I'll try not to let it go to my head.”

She pulled the Camaro onto Bonita Avenue and accelerated. The tires screeched and the truck rocked to the left then right until she straightened it out. She pulled the car up to the front of the fabric store and I discovered I had bigger concerns than Charlie's power over me.

Carson and Vaughn stood in front of the gate.

“Somebody's popular,” she
said. “The new guy. Is he with you?”

“Sort of,” I said.

“Cute, in a small-tipper kind of way.” She flicked an eyebrow and pursed her cherry-red lips. I smiled a friendly smile but didn't comment.

“He's a finance guy. He's here to take me home.”

“Finance guy. He probably smelled the money McMichael offered you. You sure he's not here to talk you into selling?”

I turned away from the scene of the two men and looked at Charlie. “Why would you say that?”

“Testing your resolve, that's all. Got your keys?” she asked.

“Yes.”

“You want my advice? Don't give them to him.”

I hopped out of the car. Charlie peeled away from the curb before the door was shut. I wondered why she hadn't hung around, considering she knew Vaughn. There could be a thousand reasons, starting with the secret nature of their relationship and the very public presence of us on the street.

I approached the guys.

“You should have told me I have competition,” said Carson.

“Nothing happened.”

“I hope not. My offer's a lot more lucrative than his.”

“Your offer?” I asked.

Vaughn looked down at the toes of his white Stan Smiths, but not fast enough to hide the smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“The investors I told you about. What did you think I meant?” He looked back and forth between us. “You and him? He's only interested in one thing.” He laughed his banker laugh, the empty one he saved for clients and his boss. I had come to hate it.

“What are you doing here?” I asked Carson.

“You told me to meet you here at three. I've been waiting for an hour.”

“It's only three thirty.”

“I got bored. There's not a lot to do in this town. But you're so predictable I figured you'd be late. I already got us a room and the good news is it's ready for check-in. Let's go.”

“I need to get a couple of things from the store.”

“I parked the car in the back. I'll meet you here in two minutes.”

I waited until Carson had disappeared around the side of the curb before making eye contact with Vaughn. I didn't know why he hadn't left, and I didn't know what I was going to say. Within the past twenty-four hours I'd learned that his father was suspected in the murder of my great-aunt, I'd learned about the bracelet from his mother, and his relationship with Charlie had put me on alert. I couldn't justify the nice guy he appeared to be now with the act of taking the note from the ledger. And since I wasn't sure why he was there in the first place, I didn't know if he really
was
a nice guy.

“He's your boyfriend?” Vaughn asked.

I looked back at the vacant street corner for a few seconds, then faced Vaughn and nodded.

“Did you tell him your plan to reopen the store?”

“I told him I wasn't selling.”

“So he came to help you out?”

“In his own way.” My vague comment solicited raised eyebrows from Vaughn. “He found another buyer for the store. He thinks that's the way to get me to go home.”

“I thought you said he knows you don't want to sell.”

“He means well. He doesn't understand why I feel the way I feel.”

Carson's car appeared at the other end of the block. He pulled out and swung it up against the curb on the opposite side of the street.

“He also doesn't understand that I really am his competition.”

“No, that I think he does understand. He's known from the beginning that your father wants to buy the store.”

Vaughn turned his attention from Carson to me. “That's not what I meant.”

His words hung in the air for a few seconds. I looked at him, gauging what his words meant. After a few awkward seconds of eye contact, he smiled a crooked smile, one dimple appearing on his cheek. I expected him to look away first, but he didn't flinch.

Carson tapped the horn twice, an unnecessary gesture since Vaughn and I were the only two people on the street. I pointed at the gate and held up my index finger to indicate that I wasn't done yet. He rolled down the window.

“Hurry up,” he called.

I unlocked the gate and yanked on it forcefully, the hinges giving way more easily than they had the day before. Next I unlocked the front door and entered. My bag of personal items was by the cutting station next to the box with the kittens.

The kittens. I couldn't leave them in the store alone.

I threaded the plastic shopping bag over my left arm and hoisted the cardboard box against my hip. I carried them with me out the front door, set the box on the sidewalk, and relocked the store.

“How are they?” asked Vaughn. We looked down into the box at the same time and our heads bonked against each other.

“Ow,” I said. I stood up and rubbed my forehead. He did the same. “They're okay. They're starting to meow.”

“You sure the hotel will take them?”

“I'm not leaving them here.”

“Let me watch them for the night.”

Carson tapped the horn again. I looked at the car, then back at Vaughn. “I don't trust you enough to let you watch them.”

“You know, I don't think you're as predictable as your boyfriend thinks.”

I picked up the box and carried it to the car. I didn't turn around to see the look on Vaughn's face as we drove away.

“So what's the deal with that guy? Did you give him reason to believe you were going to sell to him?”

“No, Carson, I didn't. I made it very clear that I don't want to sell to anybody.”

“Good girl. He seems like the persistent type, but I know he's only working for his dad. The real battle will be when I see his dad later today.”

“You're going to see Mr. McMichael today? What for?”

“If you want to win a battle, you have to know your competition. I figured as long as I was here I might as well see what this guy's all about.”

“But it's Sunday.”

“Business doesn't stop because of the weekend. The man works round the clock. Who knows? Maybe McVic will be impressed by me and I'll become his protégé. What's in the box?”

“Just some stuff from the store.”

I stared out the window, letting the conversation drop. Two days away from Carson had been unexpectedly nice. No conversations about my job or our future. None of his high fives over interest rates or the stock market. Carson and I had fallen into a rut in Los Angeles. Tacos on Tuesday. Wings on Wednesday. Sex on Saturday. Our routine was dictated by the day of the week, and I felt like I was on the verge of a meltdown. But it was only Sunday, and the way our life had been structured, meltdowns weren't acceptable until Monday.

When I'd gotten the call that Great-Uncle Marius had passed away and left the store to me, I'd been a little bit in shock. Carson had been the one to schedule the initial meeting with Ken and arrange for me to come to sign the paperwork. I'd been thankful for his knowledge at the time, his efficiency. The reading of the will, the handling of my family's belongings, it all felt so impersonal, and it was nice to have someone step in and manage the process so I didn't have to. It was the first time in years I was happy that Carson functioned like a machine in matters of the heart. I had grown accustomed to his little quirks in Los Angeles, but outside of our element, I wanted him to shed those quirks, like taking a vacation from himself.

That's what this time in San Ladrón felt like. A vacation from myself. Adopting two stray kittens I already knew I couldn't have in my LA apartment, refusing to sell the store, making new friends like Genevieve and Charlie, it all felt right, like I had somehow awakened from a very boring dream. Or maybe, this was the dream and I was about to wake up. It surprised me to realize I didn't want to wake up, to return to my reality. I was
this close
to buying something other than black. That's how I knew my world was changing.

Carson pulled the car under the carport in front of a Best Western. “You want to wait in the car? I'll pick up the keys.”

“Fine,” I said.

I waited until Carson entered the lobby of the hotel before reaching into the box and rubbing each kitten between their ears. They turned their pink noses toward me and squeezed their eyes shut. The gray one sounded like a tiny engine. I didn't know what I was going to do with them when I went back to LA, but I didn't want to think about that yet.

A tap on the window startled me and I jumped. Carson stood outside. I lowered the window. “Take the keys and pull the car around to the side that faces the trees. We're in unit five on the first floor.”

“You know I don't like to stay on the lower level,” I said.

“This is San Ladrón, not Los Angeles. It's probably the safest town in California. Nobody's going to break into our room while we're sleeping.”

“Can't you go inside and ask for a different room?”

He leaned in the open window and lowered his voice. “That's exactly my plan, but we have to find something wrong with the room before I can go back in and renegotiate. If I ask for another room and they have it, we're done. If I find some kind of problem with the room they gave us, they'll have to either figure it out or give us a discount. Trust me, Poly. I know what I'm doing.”

His face was inches from mine, and if he had been so inclined he could have leaned forward and kissed me.

“Are those cats?” he said instead.

I looked into the box where the two kittens were climbing over each other, trying to get me to pet them again.

“No, Carson, they're bullfrogs.”

He stood up and looked at the office, then strode around the car and climbed into the driver's side, slamming the door behind him. Without any additional words he pulled forward, swung the car to unit five, and parked. Before I had a chance to explain he got out of the car, slammed the door again, and popped the trunk. I counted the seconds that passed until he slammed the trunk and entered the hotel room. He slammed that door, too.

I waited a solid five minutes in the car, expecting him to come out and see what was taking me so long. I didn't want to be sitting in a car in a Best Western parking lot. I wanted to go to The Broadside Tavern and find out about Mr. Pickers. I went from mildly annoyed to angry in those five minutes. By five minutes and fifteen seconds, I knew what to do. I got out of the car and went into the hotel room.

Carson's jacket was on the bed and the door to the bathroom was closed. I crossed the room and rooted around through his pockets until I found the keys to the car.

It was time Carson learned what Vaughn had already recognized. I wasn't as predictable as he thought.