Everyone leaves almost at the same time. Except for Henry who stays behind sweeping the kitchen.
“You don’t have to do this,” I say, taking off my shoes.
“It’s been a long day. You still have to organize your closet,” he points out. “I can stay if you need help. We might be able to get it done tonight.”
“Thank you, but I’m ordering hangers, baskets, and having my sisters pack the clothes I left in New York,” I explain. “It’s a big project that’ll require more than a night.”
“Why didn’t you bring them or have the movers do it for you?” he asks as he puts away the broom.
I shrug. There are too many answers to that question, including that I had no idea if there would be space for them.
“The guys and I were thinking about setting up a fire pit in your backyard,” he says. “I don’t know what else you’d like.”
“A pool?” I joke.
He twists his lips and stares at the ceiling for a moment. “I don’t think the backyard is big enough for that, but we can try a hot tub or something else.”
“It’s fine the way it is right now,” I say.
“Hey, I just want to make sure this house is what you want,” he states. His voice is so low, and he’s so close to me.
“Making up for dragging me here?”
“No, I’m trying to make sure you’re comfortable,” he says, his hand lifts and as he’s about to touch my face, he retracts it and takes a step backward. “There’s nothing I have to compensate for or feel guilty about your relocation.”
“You could hire someone else for the factory,” I suggest.
“Why is it that you think you’re better suited for Merkel?”
“I always wanted to travel and see the world,” I explain. “That’s why I applied for the scholarship in the first place. I thought I’d be managing one of the hotels, preferably in Maui, Fiji, or Barbados. Instead, I ended up in corporate and then…with you.”
“You’re in charge of the program now,” he says. “You decide the positions for each candidate and plan their career even before you send the acceptance letters. How do you decide their fate?”
“Skills,” I answer. It’s more complicated than that, but why go through the tedious process when he created the program.
“I know your dreams, your test scores, your passion… I also know your strengths, Sophia. The path you’ve been following since you started with us isn’t a coincidence,” he states. “Could you have handled all those jobs that have knocked on your door? Sure, but you’re made for more. I’m not holding you back. I’m shaping you before you get to the top of the hill.”
“You can’t possibly believe that,” I state almost laughing at what he just said. Is he serious? Does he believe I should just be with him forever? Or is he going to hand me my own company free of charge?
“You’re right. I can’t believe I’m doing this. I hate explaining myself to others and yet, here I am telling you more than I usually do,” he declares. “I only ask you to trust me. Even when I upset you, I’ve never failed you.”
“So now I should be what? Thanking you for keeping me stranded in this position for so long?”
“Not yet,” he says smugly and leaves me stoic.
This point goes to freaking Henry Aldridge.
Henry
The weekends are almost always exactly the same in Baker’s Creek. Bustling with people, vendor booths set on Main Street, and Anna Tattle, the town gossip, taking notes and pictures of everyone who attends the festival of the weekend.
In general, I don’t have a problem with her, until she posts her version of the events on social media. My brothers and I always come out like the antagonists of the town. Well, except Hayes who is the saint since he cures everyone. Someone should stop that woman, but my brothers think it’s hilarious.
The only difference between weekends is the type of festival. This weekend is the Beads and Handmade Jewelry Festival.
“This reminds me of Mardi Gras. Maybe we should go to New Orleans once this is over,” Leyla suggests, pulling Sophia along with her while they rush to the next booth.
“Why are we doing this again?” I ask Pierce.
“It’s our turn to show the town that we’re a part of them. They still think we’re here to tear them apart.”
“We’re not,” I deny. “It was the old man, but he’s making us look like the assholes. Have you found the list of buyers yet?”
Our father has a list of pre-approved buyers who will be purchasing the town’s assets if we fail to meet the stipulations of his last testament. I might have an idea or two on how to be a step ahead of his nonsense. However, I need names before we can start to work on my plan.
“No, and we’re here because your woman dragged mine here, and I don’t have an excuse to stay at home,” he says. “Plus, the doctors are making us look bad. They have their own booth.”
Pierce and I don’t have the same relationship that Hayes and I do, but I’m trying because we’re brothers. It’s pretty easy to piss him off, maybe as easy as it is to get on my nerves. Which is why I don’t ask why he just called his estranged wife, “my woman.” Seriously, what the fuck is the deal with these two? Moving on from his issues, I decide to clarify something.
“It’s not a booth. Hayes and Blaire are in their practice. Which happens to be on Main Street. They opened today just in case there’s an emergency like last weekend,” I remind him and sigh because people can be stupid. Who eats a pound of onions in one sitting just because it’s the Onion Festival? “Though, they make me feel like I’m littering while they’re being productive. I should be working too. I mean, Vance is in charge of the security, and Beacon is playing later tonight.”
“If it makes you feel better, Mills isn’t doing anything today. He’s at home,” he says, staring at the booth where Sophia and Leyla are still chatting with a shirtless man with lots of tattoos.
“He has a kid. That’s plenty,” I remind him and then say, “If you had had one of those during the happy period of your marriage you could be exempt from this ordeal.”
“Never, never bring that shit up in front of Leyla,” he warns me.
“Why do I feel like you need to provide us with a long list of banned subjects when it comes to you two?”
“It’s not long,” he says pointing at a big drink a woman carries. “I need one of those. I bet they have alcohol, like those drinks they sell in Vegas. Maybe if I’m drunk enough, I can keep walking around. We have to see every booth and thank the vendors for being a part of this wonderful festival.”
“Don’t sound so excited,” Sophia says, carrying a small suede bag with her. I take it from her and put it in my pocket, with the other four I’m storing so far. “So far that booth is the best one. The pieces are gorgeous and the artist, he’s hot. He likes redheads, by the way.”
“Where is Leyla?” Pierce asks, stomping toward the booth.
“Don’t forget to thank the vendor,” she calls after him.