Secondhand secrets, p.12
Secondhand Secrets, page 12
“You know me so well, it’s scary.” Ally scrunched the corner of her lip, not completely ready to admit her fears out loud. “But him being busy is the best-case scenario from what his friends had to say. I figure it’s more likely his new life will take him places that will have him completely forgetting I even exist. Not that I blame him.”
She checked the time on her phone. With just another twenty minutes left of today’s program, the children needed to switch workstations one last time. So she clapped her hands to get their attention. “Okay, everyone, it’s that time again. Stop what you’re all doing and move to the next table.”
The children’s voices grew louder, the relative peace abandoned for pushing chairs aside and racing to new tables. A hard tug came at the waist of her lavender summer dress, and Whitney stared up at her. “Aunt Ally, can I stay at your table? I don’t want to move.”
Ally bobbed to meet her four-year-old niece at eye-level, her gaze skipping to the potting table Whitney was due to visit next. “You don’t want to plant your own flower to take home to show your mom? I’m sure Jenna will help you if you don’t know what to do. She’s got a special way with gardens, yah know?”
She lifted her gaze and waved at Jenna, a waitress at Maynard’s, who also dabbled as a landscaper through the nursery, her presence today an early attempt at returning to work following a recent accident. The woman paused shifting potted plants onto a cart and waved back.
“It’s not that, Aunt Ally.” Whitney’s tiny voice had Ally peering down again. “I’m scared.”
“Really, now?” She gave a trouble-free smile and offered Whitney comfort in the form of a pat on the back. “Want to tell me what scares you?”
“Spiders.” Whitney scrunched her face, and her eyes turned watery. “Last time I played in Nan and Popo’s garden, a big black spider jumped out of the soil. It tried to eat me.”
Ally bit back a laugh but recalled her own childhood fears of spiders. So, she tilted Whitney’s chin upwards and gave her a light kiss on the nose. “Well then, there’s nothing to it. You stay at my station next to me, and since you’ve got a knack for painting, we’ll get Miss Emilia to spare one of her brushes, so you can paint my face.”
“Really?” Whitney’s cheeks lifted with an exuberant smile, the glint in her eyes a good sign that Ally would come to regret the offer, even though her smile broke loose too. Whitney, like almost all children, had an affinity for finding joy in life’s little happy turns.
Emilia, having heard the exchange, handed the girl a brush while lifting her brow at Ally in an, “Are you sure about this?” expression.
Ally nodded and reclaimed her seat, Emilia’s sideways glance continuing. “You’re at least a little happy for Chip though, right? It sounds like he’s going places.”
“Sure, I am.” Ally shrugged, her face hot because she should have felt prouder than she did. “For someone from these parts to be so talented, that Chip is making an impact on the wider world…” She paused, distributing pots for this new batch of kids to paint. “I just wish we had more time, yah know?”
Spiderman junior finished, Emilia changed kids again. Soon, she dipped a wet brush into her dry paint palette and then went about applying a vibrant purple unicorn horn to the forehead of the new girl before her. “Time to figure out if your relationship has potential?”
“I don’t know.” Ally’s voice turned husky, and she blinked down at her lap, the cold tip of Whitney’s paintbrush hitting her cheek. “Our potential is there, but Chip wasn’t the one to tell me about his new opportunity, his friends were, and I guess that leaves me with more than a few doubts and questions.”
As well as a sense that an end between us is inevitable, because in the end, I’m not sure I want to leave Harlow forever, and I’m not sure he’d even want me to go with him.
So, inevitable and painful. So much worse than any other guy-related heartbreak I’ve experienced so far.
“But, I mean, you got to meet his friends, Ally. That’s kinda big.”
“Emilia, I met his friends by accident, remember? Now focus. What am I supposed to do about all this?”
Emilia laughed and wrinkled her nose at the girl in front of her, a smiley little girl who—aside from her purple unicorn horn—now had a black pirate patch painted around her right eye. “Look, I haven’t had the chance to speak with Chip in any great way, but everyone keeps telling me he’s a guy worth knowing. Maybe he simply didn’t get a chance to tell you about his opportunity yet? Maybe he didn’t want to get your hopes up, or down, depending on what happens?”
“Because, once again, he’ll be leaving me behind.” Ally scoffed. “Let down is just the tip of how I feel now that I know.”
“Okay, well, that first time he left, you were kids. And this time, you already knew he’d be leaving. So, what’s changed?” Emilia shrugged, her focus not on Ally as she painted away. “Why not stick with the original plan and give the guy a chance to explain?”
“I know. I know. I guess I just didn’t want the truth quite so soon after, we… we… Yah know.” She winced at another cold slap of paint on her forehead from Whitney, that cold slap a welcome excuse to pause and take stock of the conflicted emotions churning in her belly since yesterday. “Things are so new and changing so fast. I don’t think I even have a right to confront him over what his friends told me, much less his leaving. He knows about my Dean dramas and is probably looking for signs of me being clingy. I don’t want to scare him away. And about his friends, they’re so… just so incredibly different. The years apart have turned me into an outsider. One thing’s for sure, I’m nowhere near on the same level as Chip.”
Emilia jerked her chin back in a look of surprise. “Well, now that’s a broad statement if ever I heard one. I wouldn’t know the first thing about building furniture or mending broken window fittings. Meanwhile, Blaine grew up far from the upper echelons of L.A. society, and still we get along great. You know, opposites attracting and all.”
Emilia patted the girl she’d been painting on the shoulder, allowing her to run along and show her parents her new pirate-unicorn face.
Ally stopped to let the boisterous noises around her, as well as Emilia’s advice, lift her spirits. “Maybe you have a point.”
With no more children left in line, Emilia turned and gave Ally her full attention. “So then, maybe quit fretting about the what-ifs and talk to Chip? You’ll have no answers until you do, so do it today before your doubts fester into something bigger.” Emilia gave an unfazed shrug paired with a quick smile. “And in the meantime, I have some news that will keep you fretting over something else entirely.”
“I’m not sure I like that idea of more fretting, but I’ll take any distraction you can offer.”
Emilia clapped her hands in a fast and excited manner, her shoulders bouncing in unison with her claps. “Remember how I wanted to find a wholesale buyer for your pots? Well, I did. I found someone.”
“What?” Ally slapped a hand over her mouth, her sudden loud and high-pitched tone a surprise even to her. She peered around at the nearby children, but no one really looked her way, maybe because loud and high-pitched was normal background noise to this lot.
“Now, don’t get too excited.” Emilia held both hands up in a gesture for Ally to slow down. “It’s still early days, but we have a foot in with Wanda and Stephanie Argyle.”
“No way.” Ally slipped her hand from her lips, regretting she hadn’t taken Emilia’s offer to find a distributor for her work more seriously, her voice now a rough whisper. “The Argyles? As in, the chain of boutique nurseries along the East Coast? I’ve seen their ads, but I’ve never had a chance to go far enough to visit one of their stores.”
“Yep, same Argyles, and they liked the initial photos I sent. They’ve asked for some physical samples of your work to assess quality and suitability to their brand.”
Emilia’s words were slow to filter through Ally’s excitement. She no doubt wore a wacky smile while her pulse maintained a steady thunder in her ears. “I mean, yah, of course! Take your pick from the pottery studio out back. Just let me wrap things up here, and I’ll show you.”
Ally stood and called time on the class, allowing the children to go find their parents. Almost as quickly, Emilia slung her purse strap over her shoulder and let loose with one final declaration. “Just so you know, I’ve decided I’m inviting Chip to the wedding after all. I’m sure it’ll be a real hoot if he can make it.”
Eighteen
Chip sat amongst his friends for one last night at Maynard’s before their road trip recommenced in the morning. Though Sarah worked behind the bar, too busy to join the group, Dean wasn’t, and Jamie held her wide-eyed stare on him, her mouth still agape. “So Chip wasn’t joking when he said a crime ring kidnapped his sister?”
Dean shifted his gaze to Chip, his prolonged flat stare asking if he really did have to answer Jamie’s question.
More awkward silence passed before he let out a sigh and turned back to Jamie. “The Syndicate were out to get me for leaving and hurting Sarah was part of their revenge. Except, she never had any real contact with the Syndicate.”
Jamie frowned at Chip. “You said they held her hostage in a freezer?”
Chip shrugged and took another sip of his beer. “Sure did, but Dean’s friend, Ramos, infiltrated the Syndicate and ended up being the guy holding her hostage.”
“Ramos? So, he kept Sarah safe.” Jamie’s lips bowed further, and she focused on Dean. “Does he live in Harlow too?”
“No, Ramos is back in L.A., at least for now anyway. He does still sometimes slip Syndicate information to me, but that’s getting harder to find since the showdown with Luciano folded the Syndicate’s West Coast branch. Last I heard, the feds are now focusing on the East Coast arm.”
Chip set his bottle down on the table with a light thunk, tension drawing high in his belly. “That sounds ominous.”
“In that the Syndicate still exists? You bet.” Dean, a real roll-with-the-punches-and-don’t-sweat-the-rest type, showed no true concern on his face, although he did twist the brown-glass neck of his beer bottle between his fingers. “The East Coasters are harder to nail down. Far more sophisticated. Less blatant thug, more stealthy corporate shark. Even in my days at the Syndicate, the East Coasters already had plans to shift toward a more legitimate facade of making bank, buying up large companies and the like. Though, I doubt their hands will ever stay clean.”
Dean’s warning settled like a lead ball in Chip’s brain, and he blew out a hard breath, the man’s description of the Syndicate a million times more menacing and insidious than anything he’d experienced. Not that he had any experience with crime rings. “I don’t know how you kept yourself and Sarah safe that day.”
Dean shook his head, clearly still blaming himself for Luciano’s inability to leave well enough alone. “All I know is, I’ll do anything to stop something like that happening again. And believe me, knowing the Syndicate, I can’t, in all honesty, say their beef with me is over now that Luciano is gone.”
Silence befell the table, and Chip stared down at his drink until a bottle top pinged to a stop before him on the table. He glanced up at Greg, now jabbing his chin toward the entrance. “Isn’t that your girl over there?”
Sure enough, Ally stood before the doors wearing a floaty, knee-length dress speckled with giant sunflowers, her gaze quick to meet his, her habitual smile slipping the moment her attention hit Dean. Still, she padded over, her fingers digging into the leather of a small, violet clutch that acted as a barrier between her and everyone else.
Jamie pulled out the empty seat beside her and offered it to Ally, while Ally’s greeting to Chip was no more affectionate than a simple and overly safe “Hello.”
He tilted his head to one side and sent her a What gives? look, although his actual words were far tamer. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”
The tension over her face faded, and she at least didn’t shy from giving him a direct stare. “I felt bad about skipping out on you yesterday and wanted to see your friends again while I had the chance.”
In an apparent peace offering, she smiled out to the others at the table, her joy once more drying when she got to Dean. His presence a seemingly sad reminder of what had passed between the two. Even if Dean made no sign of being bothered. Though, once again, not all that much bothered Dean.
“Hey, Ally”—Jamie nudged her with an elbow—“hope these two didn’t upset you too much yesterday spilling Chip’s news like that.”
“News?” Chip narrowed his eyes at Jamie. “What news?”
Though Jamie opened her mouth, Ally’s giggle interrupted any potential reply, and she swatted a hand in a gesture to let the subject go. “No, it’s fine. It was just a surprise. That’s all.”
Her reaction, plus the fact he still had no answer, had him glaring at the guy most likely to defy all social cues and speak. Greg. “What news?”
“Dude.” Greg gave a condescending grimace, one that said he thought Chip was slow on the uptake. “Your Encode grant.”
Chip’s world stilled, and he looked to Ally. Her quick exit yesterday and sheepishness today made a whole lot more sense.
“You got the grant already?” Dean’s question pulled Chip’s focus away.
“No, I’ve only—”
Ally’s lips parted in Dean’s direction before she spoke. “You knew?”
But her attention didn’t stay on him long, her gaze flicking to Chip with a small and incredulous shake of her head. “He knew?”
Her clear disappointment brought a pang to Chip’s heart, and he groaned, pressing his hands to his face and adding in his own head shake. “No. He didn’t know any more than you. And no, there’s no money.”
Though he dropped his hands, ready to ask why his news even upset her, Matt took his turn to interrupt.
“Here we go again.” Matt huffed out a big, exasperated sigh. “You’re playing yourself down, Chip. Making these finals is a huge deal. If you get it, there’s a huge target on your back as a tech genius in the making, and you’re set for life. If you don’t get the grant, well, pretty much every other tech company out there will at least be interested in looking at your ideas.”
He flared his eyes at Matt, a non-verbal order for him to shut up before Chip’s attention instinctively turned to Ally again, her lips pressed into a tight line and her bare shoulders rounded. The shift of her gaze away from his made his world slow, a new understanding taking over.
He hadn’t told her. He’d slept with her but hadn’t revealed this part of his life. Why? Right there and then, he wanted to explain, but any explanation would bring up personal details neither his friends nor Dean needed to hear.
“The way Sarah talks about you I’m sure you’re a shoe-in, man.” Dean gave Chip a congratulatory clap on the back. Chip jolted from the impact but couldn’t pry his attention from Ally.
She still clutched at her purse in her lap, although now, her gaze drifted to Sarah behind the bar. He reached under the table for Ally’s hand, her stare hitting his, only to bounce to Dean and then back to Sarah. Just before she pulled her hand away.
Maybe he should have questioned her move, but in that moment, he wasn’t all that sure he deserved to. Or that he blamed her. What assurances had he given? Not that he had any to give, not with where his chance with Encode would take him.
He’d move up and move on. Meanwhile, she’d stay in Harlow and deal with the million-and-one questions and comments the townsfolk would have about this brief relationship.
He peered back at the bar, momentarily wondering how much of Ally’s aversion had to do with her quarrel with Sarah. How much had to do with her past feelings for Dean?
Even if Dean was a decent guy, undeserving of jealousy, the reminder of Ally’s infatuation alone left Chip’s stomach churning and an angry heat boring deep into his chest.
Focus on Ally.
So, he turned to her again and pretended he didn’t mind her keeping her distance in public, even though he did. “Want me to get you a drink?”
Her gaze snapped from the bar back to him, the strain around her eyes only easing slightly with her small nod. “White wine. Thanks.”
She moved to open her purse, but he left before she could offer any money.
Quick to make his way to the bar, Sarah soon leaned against the counter, her easy grin pointed at him. “What’s your poison now?”
“Just a white.”
An expected silence took over, her fading grin hinting at her recollection that white wine wasn’t his usual drink. As expected, her stare skidded to his table, no doubt quick to find Ally.
“Oh, for Ally?” She blinked up at him now, new wrinkles forming over her brow. “She’s welcome to come over here and ask for the drink herself, yah know? There’s no reason to keep avoiding me.”
He gave a light shrug, even though his sister’s clear and lingering animosity made him feel anything but light. “Maybe for you.”
Giving a small snort, she went about pouring the drink anyway. “Funny how she’s fine to sit with Dean though. She hasn’t been to Maynard’s for months but—”
Halfway to sliding the wine his way, she paused, fingers still clutching the glass’s thin stem, the lines on her brow returning. Like she didn’t miss much, her mind already searching for reasons behind Ally’s sudden visit.
So, of course, he made quick with trying to distract her. “Ally’s being awkward around Dean too. You’re not so special.”
Sarah raised a brow and finished handing him the drink, one side of her lip creeping upward. “Why is Ally here tonight, anyway?”
Her attention washed over him, and all the lightness in her expression collapsed, suggesting he didn’t need to answer. “Say it isn’t so.”
He gave another disingenuous shrug. “How about I just say nothing?”
