Wow. Okay. I guess we’re just getting right to it. “I’m not falling on a sword, Juliette.”
“What are you doing then?” She cocks her head to the side, waiting for my answer.
“Marrying Wes.”
“But why?”
“Why not?”
“You don’t love him.” She emphasizes the ‘you’.
“You don’t know that.”
“I do know that some woman shows up in Sierra Grande and a short while later she’s got my son using marriage as a means to an end.”
I make a face. “Is that what you think happened?”
“I’ve heard how well you researched this town. I’d imagine those researching skills extended to Arizona’s divorce laws. You must have seen Wes and then dollar signs popped up in your future. Anybody with your amount of debt would have.”
My mouth falls open, the air from a gasp slamming to the back of my throat. “How did you—”
Juliette’s mouth stretches into a smug line. “My family is my priority. I’m not going to let a fox guard the henhouse.”
“What is it with you Haydens?” I ask through clenched teeth. A deep breath fills my lungs and releases slowly. This is Wes’s mother, and on a normal day, she’d deserve the utmost respect, but not when she’s coming at me with guns blazing. “Wes asked me to marry him. He came up with this idea on his own. And he knows about the debt.” She doesn't believe me. I don’t know how I know that, but I do. I square my chin at her. “I don’t appreciate you coming to my jobsite and questioning my integrity. Excuse me, I have work to do.” I sidestep her and walk away. It takes everything in me to walk at a normal pace. I want to stomp and yell, release my indignation, but there are eyes on me. Scott and the crew, for starters, and probably Juliette. My future mother-in-law.
I’m back in my makeshift office when I hear the diesel engine roar to life. My eyes remain trained on the computer screen as the sounds of the truck engine get further and further away.
I keep trying to focus, but I can’t. My leg bounces and I can’t seem to stop it, even when I push down on it with my hand. I need to blow off some steam.
I pack up my things and get in my car, waving at Scott as I go.
I’m at The Bakery buying a piece of lemon bar the size of an NBA player’s palm when I hear my name. Turning, I see Jo sitting at a small table with a laptop open and a notebook with a pen lying on top. I wave at her, then finish paying and walk over to where she sits.
“Hi, Jo.”
She stands up and wraps her arms around me. I’m still upset from my run-in with Juliette, and when I hug Jo back, I squeeze tightly.
“Thanks for that,” I tell her when we pull apart. I’m a little embarrassed. I don’t know Jo very well.
“It felt like you needed a hug,” she smiles sweetly, sinking back down into her chair. She motions to the empty seat across from her, and I sit.
“I really did.” I offer her a lopsided grin. “Tough day.”
She points at the pastry I’ve set down on the table. “The size of that lemon bar tells me the kind of day you’ve had.”
I grab two forks from the small station nearby and hand one to Jo. I reach into my purse and remove the two cans of rosé I picked up from the Merc. “Do these further tell you the story of the day I’ve had?” I slide one over to her.
She pops the top and sips. “Sure does. Want to talk about it?”
I finish chewing my first bite of lemon bar. “It’s not an easy subject.”
“Let me guess,” she says, holding a forkful of the pastry in midair. “It has something to do with a certain Hayden.”
One side of my mouth turns up in a smile. “Sort of. More than one Hayden, anyway.”
She nods knowingly. “They can be an interesting bunch. There’s been some talk, you know.”
“About me?”
“You and Wes.”
I sip my wine. “What’s the talk?”
“That you’ve been seeing an awful lot of each other.”
“That’s true.”
“And that this town has been seeing more of Wes than they have in years, and that’s due to your presence.”
“Is that considered a good thing?”
She nods her head vigorously. “Most definitely. He’s a big deal in our town. My mom and dad remember when he was born. He grew up playing football, and there was this pride in the whole town when he went into the Army. He came home, and I think we all expected him to be the same Wes, which was pretty short-sighted of us. It might sound silly, but whatever happened to Wes when he was over there, happened to us too, because it took away the town hero.”
“That’s a lot of pressure to put on one person. To need him to be your hero. Not you, specifically. ‘You’ as in ‘the town’.”
“You are right about that. I think it comes with the territory though. Having Hayden as a last name.”
It makes me think about Juliette and her boundary-crossing behavior. “It does seem like an awful lot to live up to.”
“And now you’re dating a Hayden. Who knows, maybe your last name will be Hayden one day.”
I cough on my wine and slip my left hand under the table. Last name? I hadn’t even given a thought to that. Do I want to change my last name?
“Are you okay?” Jo asks.
“Yes, yes,” I sputter. “Let’s talk about you.” I need the subject change, stat. “Are you dating anybody right now?”
“Well…” Jo pokes at some crumbs with the tines of her fork. “Not dating, no. I might’ve made a teensy mistake last weekend.”
“Spill,” I command, grateful to be out of the spotlight.
“I went down to Phoenix with a group of friends. We stayed at a resort, did the spa thing, dinner and drinks. We all had a lot to drink and I miiight have slept with someone who was in our group.” She makes a bare-teeth face. “But he doesn’t remember.” Flames of red sweep across her face.
“Don’t be embarrassed.” I touch her forearm. “Seriously. We all make mistakes. I know I have.” Colossal mistakes, in my case. “Why do you think he doesn’t remember?”
“Because I left his room after, and when I saw him at breakfast the next morning, he didn’t even look at me twice.” Her eyes fill with tears. “And when our other friend asked him how the rest of his night went, he shrugged and said he went to his room and passed out.” She dabs at her eyes with a white paper napkin.
“Do you care about this person?”
She sniffs and takes a drink. “I’ve had a crush on him for years, and I swear he never even noticed me until last weekend.”
I groan and glance out the window at the traffic on High Street. “I’m sorry, Jo. That’s terrible.”
“Thanks,” she says in a small voice, tapping her nail against the can. “I don’t think I can ever look at him again.”
“It’ll take some time, but it’ll probably get better.” I nod to her laptop. “What were you working on when I barged in on you?”