Undone (A Country Roads Novel)
Undone
Shannon Richard
New York Boston
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To my parents,
for believing in me
and supporting my dreams.
I couldn’t have done this
without you.
There are a number of people who helped me write this book. Words cannot even begin to express how grateful I am for all of you.
To Sarah E. Younger, my amazing agent and friend. Thank you for taking a chance on me and appreciating all of my many, many quirks. Our music mind-melds prove that we were meant to work together, and I’m so blessed to get to work with you and everyone at the Nancy Yost Literary Agency.
To Selina McLemore, my ingenious editor who uncovered a path that I didn’t even know existed. Thank you for helping me turn
Undone
into something so much more than I ever imagined it could be.
To Gloria Berry, for putting up with me and my crazy on a daily basis. Thank you for reading every day, listening to my ramblings, and helping me figure things out.
To Sarah Purcell, thank you for reading along the way and listening to more rants than I can count.
To Amy Smith and Chris Pennell, for being the most supportive bosses a girl could ask for. I owe you both many, many thanks.
To Kaitie Hotard, Katie Crandall, Catie Humphreys, Jenna Robinson, Jennifer Pezzuto, Jennifer Ewing, Diana Oliveira, Kelly Filippini, Marina Coleman, Amanda Blanchard, Michelle Blanchard, and Ronald Richard, thank you all for reading the manuscript and giving me invaluable feedback.
And to my mom and dad, thank you for all of your love and support. I owe you everything.
Short Fuses and a Whole Lot of Sparks
B
ethelda Grimshaw was a snot-nosed wench. She was an evil, mean-spirited, vindictive, horrible human being.
Paige should’ve known. She should’ve known the instant she’d walked into that office and sat down. Bethelda Grimshaw had a malevolent stench radiating off her, kind of like road kill in ninety-degree weather. The interview, if it could even be called that, had been a complete waste of time.
“She didn’t even read my résumé,” Paige said, slamming her hand against the steering wheel as she pulled out of the parking lot of the Mirabelle Information Center.
No, Bethelda had barely even looked at said résumé before she’d set it down on the desk and leaned back in her chair, appraising Paige over her cat’s-eye glasses.
“So you’re the
infamous
Paige Morrison,” Bethelda had said, raising a perfectly plucked, bright red eyebrow. “You’ve caused
quite
a stir since you came to town.”
Quite a stir?
Okay, so there had been that incident down at the Piggly Wiggly, but that hadn’t been Paige’s fault. Betty Whitehurst might seem like a sweet, little old lady but in reality she was as blind as a bat and as vicious as a shrew. Betty drove her shopping cart like she was racing in the Indy 500, which was an accomplishment, as she barely cleared the handle. She’d slammed her cart into Paige, who in turn fell into a display of cans. Paige had been calm for all of about five seconds before Betty had started screeching at her about watching where she was going.
Paige wasn’t one to take things lying down covered in cans of creamed corn, so she’d calmly explained to Betty that she
had
been watching where she was going. “Calmly” being that Paige had started yelling and the store manager had to get involved to quiet everyone down.
Yeah, Paige didn’t deal very well with certain types of people. Certain types being evil, mean-spirited, vindictive, horrible human beings. And Bethelda Grimshaw was quickly climbing to the top of that list.
“As it turns out,” Bethelda had said, pursing her lips in a patronizing pout, “we already filled the position. I’m afraid there was a mistake in having you come down here today.”
“When?”
“Excuse me?” Bethelda had asked, her eyes sparkling with glee.
“When did you fill the position?” Paige had repeated, trying to stay calm.
“Last week.”
Really? So the phone call Paige had gotten that morning to confirm the time of the interview had been a mistake?
This was the eleventh job interview she’d gone on in the last two months. And it had most definitely been the worst. It hadn’t even been an interview. She’d been set up; she just didn’t understand why. But she hadn’t been about to ask that question out loud. So instead of flying off the handle and losing the last bit of restraint she had, Paige had calmly gotten up from the chair and left without making a scene. The whole thing was a freaking joke, which fit perfectly for the current theme of Paige’s life.
Six months ago, Paige had been living in Philadelphia. She’d had a good job in the art department of an advertising agency. She’d shared a tiny two-bedroom apartment above a coffee shop with her best friend, Abby Fields. And she’d had Dylan, a man who she’d been very much in love with.
And then the rug got pulled out from under her and she’d fallen flat on her ass.
First off, Abby got a job at an up-and-coming PR firm. Which was good news, and Paige had been very excited for her, except the job was in Washington, DC, which Paige was not excited about. Then, before Paige could find a new roommate, she’d lost her job. The advertising agency was bought out and she was in the first round of cuts. Without a job, she couldn’t renew her lease, and was therefore homeless. So she’d moved in with Dylan. It was always supposed to be a temporary thing, just until Paige could find another job and get on her feet again.
But it never happened.
Paige had tried for two months and found nothing, and then the real bomb hit. She was either blind or just distracted by everything else that was going on, but either way, she never saw it coming.
Paige had been with Dylan for about a year and she’d really thought he’d been the one. Okay, he tended to be a bit of a snob when it came to certain things. For example, wine. Oh was he ever a wine snob, rather obnoxious about it really. He would always swirl it around in his glass, take a sip, sniff, and then take another loud sip, smacking his lips together.
He was also a snob about books. Paige enjoyed reading the classics, but she also liked reading romance, mystery, and fantasy. Whenever she would curl up with one of her books, Dylan tended to give her a rather patronizing look and shake his head.
“Reading fluff again I see,” he would always say.
Yeah, she didn’t miss
that
at all. Or the way he would roll his eyes when she and Abby would quote movies and TV shows to each other. Or how he’d never liked her music and flat-out refused to dance with her. Which had always been frustrating because Paige loved to dance. But despite all of that, she’d loved him. Loved the way he would run his fingers through his hair when he was distracted, loved his big goofy grin, and loved the way his glasses would slide down his nose.
But the thing was, he hadn’t loved her.
One night, he’d come back to his apartment and sat Paige down on the couch. Looking back on it, she’d been an idiot, because there was a small part of her that thought he was actually about to propose.
“Paige,” he’d said, sitting down on the coffee table and grabbing her hands. “I know that this was supposed to be a temporary thing, but weeks have turned into months. Living with you has brought a lot of things to light.”
It was wrong, everything about that moment was
all
wrong
. She could tell by the look in his eyes, by the tone of his voice, by the way he said
Paige
and
light
. In that moment she’d known exactly where he was going, and it wasn’t anywhere with her. He wasn’t proposing. He was breaking up with her.
She’d pulled her hands out of his and shrank back into the couch.
“This,” he’d said, gesturing between the two of them, “was never going to go further than where we are right now.”
And that was the part where her ears had started ringing.
“At one point I thought I might love you, but I’ve realized I’m not
in
love with you,” he’d said, shaking his head. “I feel like you’ve thought this was going to go further, but the truth is I’m never going to marry you. Paige, you’re not the one. I’m tired of pretending. I’m tired of putting in the effort for a relationship that isn’t going anywhere else. It’s not worth it to me.”
“You mean I’m not worth it,” she’d said, shocked.
