Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 81986 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 410(@200wpm)___ 328(@250wpm)___ 273(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81986 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 410(@200wpm)___ 328(@250wpm)___ 273(@300wpm)
Monroe cleared his throat but didn’t say anything. He didn’t need to. I saw the whole damn story in the way his eyes narrowed and color rose up his cheeks. He knew.
“I’m not an embezzler.” Best to get that out of the way right now.
“Of course not.” Monroe nodded tightly. “Perry and Ellis going under was hardly your fault. I’m sure not every employee there was in on all the wrongdoing the SEC and feds found.”
“I wasn’t,” I said flatly as Knox slid closer to Monroe, whether to calm him or show solidarity, I wasn’t sure which.
“I trust Worth.” Sam’s voice was firm and didn’t invite argument.
“I take it the news of my downfall has reached Safe Harbor?” I stared Monroe down. Old friend or not, I wasn’t about to be intimidated.
“I’m not sure about news per se. I’ve kept up with you.” Monroe waved a hand, but the gesture did nothing to settle me.
“For your book.” There. I’d said it aloud. If he’d kept up with me, well, that street had gone both ways, and I knew perfectly well he had a fancy book deal about the investigation into my mom’s disappearance.
“No, I checked up on you because I’m your friend.” Monroe sat forward at the same time I scooted back. Coming had been all kinds of a mistake. “We’ve all been worried about you.”
“I’m fine.” Why had I thought I could socialize like regular people? Had I really thought my mother wouldn’t come up as a conversation topic? Monroe’s book deal? My guilt-by-association career implosion? Nah. The truth always did wash up in Safe Harbor.
Eventually.
“Do you need a place to stay?” Monroe pressed.
“He has one.” Coming up behind me, Sam clapped a welcome hand on my shoulder. “And a job.”
“I thought you were just helping out?” Holden frowned. Like Monroe, there had been a certain wariness to him all evening, a limit to how friendly and trusting he was willing to be. “When did you last barista? Twenty years ago?”
“It’s not something one forgets, and it’s not like I can work in finance now. Hell, Monroe doesn’t even trust me with Sam’s books.”
“I trust you.” Monroe sighed like the admission had cost him stock options. “I know you. I know what kind of person you are. And I know you’re hurting. You missed the memorial, but a lot of people turned out in support. I’m sure grief is part of what you’re dealing with.”
“Don’t make assumptions. Please.” I rubbed my temples and leaned into Sam’s hand, which was still on my shoulder. My stomach burned. The ulcer medications needed to work faster.
“I thought we were grilling dinner, not Worth.” Sam laughed pointedly. “How about sharing some of the more fun turn of events? Like how Aunt Henri turned out to be a lesbian?”
“What? Seriously? Was the whole town gay, and I didn’t know?” I blinked, trying to picture Monroe’s stern, quiet aunt as a lesbian. She had been rather tolerant of the various stray animals Monroe and I had paraded through there, unlike my parents, but fondness for cats and sturdy footwear were hardly clues.
“Yep. We’re working on becoming the second gayest place in Oregon.” Knox threw an arm around Monroe. “Thanks to the Lucky Penny, we’re going to be a destination for gay tourism just like that Rainbow Cove place down on the southern coast.”
“That place is gay?” Cal spoke up for the first time in a while. He’d been so quiet I’d thought perhaps he’d dozed off against Holden on the lounger they were sharing. “I drove past Rainbow Cove a few weeks back. Ate some amazing carrot cake at this little tavern…” Mouth twisting, he trailed off. “I guess now that you mention it…”
“It’s okay, baby. I know your queer radar is broken.” Holden yanked Cal closer. “As long as you don’t accidentally bring a barfly back with you.”
“I always do come back to you.” He gave Holden a look that was nothing short of worshipful. Hopefully, there was a fire extinguisher by the grill if the two of them spontaneously combusted.
“What do you do?” I asked Cal, trying to make the barest of efforts to be social.
“I dive.” Cal regarded me much too solemnly. “Started with the navy, but now I do some classes and nonprofit work.”
“Cal’s way too humble.” Holden beamed at his guy. “Cal does recovery dives all over the country.”
“He’s the one who found your mom,” Sam said softly, and I lurched away from his hand.
“Oh.” Sour acid rose up my throat, medicine completely inadequate in the face of this news. I pushed to a stand. “I need more water.”
If anyone wanted to question the quarter of a bottle I left behind, they were more than welcome to. I stalked over to the drinks table near the door. Gripping the edge of the wooden table, I took several steadying breaths. Didn’t help. I was dizzy, nauseous, and utterly rung out, with no more reserves left.