Bad Boy’s Revenge(30)

I had just one.

And I’d lose everything if he learned the truth.

I nibbled on the end of my pen and counted the minutes until five o’clock. Office jobs bored me to death. I never used to stare at my phone when I worked at the candy shop. Sweet Nibbles took a big bite out of my spare time. We always had dough to knead, cakes to bake, candies to boil, and tables to wipe down. We stayed open until eight, but we left the doors unlocked until ten because I didn’t have the heart to deny anyone a cupcake after a bad day, date, or news.

Now?

Part-time work as an office gopher for the Saint Christie Reporter wore on me. Papers to file, emails to send, ads to invoice, and highlighters to doodle hearts in the corner of scrap paper. Too little hours for too little money, and I knew what would come of it.

At four thirty, my boss let me go for the day. Sean knew I had to get to Willowbend to see Granddad, but kicking off early meant he didn’t have to pay me for another half an hour. The newspaper strained enough from carrying me on the payroll for a year, even part-time.

I had to find something else in town, but no one could afford more than a few hours a week at a wage high enough above minimum that they wouldn’t insult me or my family. I understood. I’d owned a small business. I worked every day open to close just to spare the couple bucks for additional help until it was absolutely necessary.

Anything extra went to savings. And anything in savings eventually paid Granddad’s medical bills and extensive debts—money we didn’t know he owed until after the fire.

That was just the beginning.

The administrators at Willowbend didn’t give me good news. I grew up with Cassie Miller’s daughter, and Granddad stayed in the same hall as Cassie’s mother.

“Josie…” Cassie exhaled. “You know how much I love your family. I want to do everything I can, but Matt needs a bit more care. His lung function will only decrease, and we feel it’d be best to move him to an area of Willowbend where he’ll receive more direct nursing care. Someone to handle his medications and help him with his everyday activities.” She cleared her throat. “A few days ago, Matt went for a walk. He was gone for hours.”

I frowned. “Sneaking out to smoke again?”

“Probably. But we worried when he didn’t return. He’s never been gone that long, and anything might have happened. It’s time to get serious about his condition. We have options, but…”

I didn’t like buts. Buts were expensive. “What’s the problem?”

“I’m sorry, Josie, but if we move him, we can no longer negotiate his care for the agreed upon price. It’s…going to get more expensive.”

I hated having to ask. “How much more?”

“About four thousand—”

“Oh.” That wasn’t so bad.

“—more a month.”

My heart sank.

“Because he’s Matthias—he helped my husband to build this place—we can move him for the first two weeks, no change. After that…”

“I understand.” I nodded. “I appreciate that.”

“I wish there was more we could do.”

Me too. I shook her hand and snuck upstairs to visit Granddad. He was sleeping, but I gave him a kiss on the forehead. That made the decision easy.

Whatever I had to do to make him comfortable, to help him, I’d do.

Even if it ruined me.

I went home, cell phone in hand as I paced the living room. The decision gutted me, and my stomach turned, sickly and gross. I hated this, that moment when everything sweet turned sour, and what had been once only a sticky life suddenly sucked me down into the mire.

This wouldn’t be easy, but shame never was. Still, I’d rather it be my disgrace than Granddad’s, especially as his pride suffered enough from the illness and the town’s gossip about his debts.

I dialed the number.

And waited.

Nolan answered with a smile echoed in words that dripped pretention. He knew I’d call, and I knew what he’d want in return.

“Josie…” My name buttered on his tongue, and I worried where it would spread. “Your voice brightens a bad day. How are you, Sweets?”

He wasn’t worth my temper. “Nolan, I wondered if we might talk about…your offer.”

“On your property?”

Like he didn’t know. “Yes.”

“Reconsidering my terms?” His laugh wasn’t at my expense, just a graveled chuckle in a moment of victory. “But, Josie, you realize that particular arrangement was unsatisfactory to you?”

“I remember. But that was…then.”

“Business moves so fast these days,” Nolan said. “Unfortunately…that particular contract was a one-time offer. I warned you then, I’d be unable to negotiate the same amount a second time.”

“I’m willing to deal now.”

“As am I, Josie.” Nolan grunted, a rutting sort of sound I never wanted to hear again. “I don’t conduct business over the phone.”

I anticipated that. “Fine.”

“You will meet me for dinner.”

A flash of goose bumps prickled my neck. “I’m not hungry.”

“Get hungry, Josie. You will meet me at Jackson’s in an hour, and we’ll discuss this arrangement.” His voice lowered. “Come alone.”

“Like I would trust you around Maddox.”

“You can trust this, Josie. If I wanted Maddox dead, he’d be buried by now.”

“I’m tired of your threats, Nolan.”

“Meet me at Jackson’s or it won’t be a threat any longer.” He paused. “And Josie? Wear that pretty pink dress for me.”

Nolan hung up. I wouldn’t give the creeper the satisfaction of getting under my skin.

Or under my clothes.

The pink dress looked good on me. I’d wear it tonight and then burn the damn thing. The material clung to my curves, and I hoped Nolan would be too preoccupied with the plunging neckline to refuse the offer.

Only one thing left to do. I texted Delta, pulling the best friend card.

If Maddox asks, I’m with you tonight.

The reply came instantly. Yeah right. What will he do if he knows I’m lying? What will he do to you?

I hesitated. He’ll understand. Eventually.

Delta was the type to talk me out of any bad idea—like a hyperactive conscience who refused to let me take a step without clearing the way first. I ignored her texts and shoved my phone in my purse. Maddox would be harder to deter. I scribbled a note and stuck it to the fridge.

Under his message.

Found a lead on a job—checking it out.

I wished I could give him that time. Maybe if he hadn’t gone to jail, maybe if we both had worked and made the money to ease Granddad’s debts…maybe if the shop was rebuilt. We might have already been married, had a baby, made a good life. Too many maybes and not enough certainty.

It wasn’t worth mourning a past we never had when I still struggled to build a future worth living. I grabbed my purse and hid the dress beneath a light shawl.

And then I left to sell a piece of my soul to the devil.

Nolan met me in the corner of Jackson’s, an intimate and familiar little booth in the best restaurant in Saint Christie. The same restaurant where we met a year ago, the night of the fire.

He ordered me red wine and gestured to toast as I sat down.

“You look lovelier than I imagined.” Nolan licked a droplet of wine from his lip. “And I have quite the imagination.”

Gross.

I let the glasses clink, but I didn’t drink. I wasn’t about to split an appetizer and chat about our favorite cuts of steak. My voice lowered, too humbled for my stubborn façade. “Nolan, I am willing to negotiate on prices, but—”

“Easy, Josie.” He opened his menu. “We have all the time in the world to discuss this.”

“I’d prefer to get this done quickly.”

“These things can’t be rushed.” He hummed over the specials. “This transaction might be fairly involved if we expect to sort all the details out.”

“I don’t think that will be necessary.”

He met my stare. “If you want this sale, I foresee many, many long nights ahead of us.”

This wasn’t going the way I hoped. I anticipated it, but I would only agree to numbers on a page, not bodies between the sheets.

Nolan smiled like a true gentleman. I saw through it. “I’m ordering us both the Pasta Diablo.”

“I don’t like spicy food.”

“You’ll love this.”

“I’m really not hungry.”

I stilled as his gaze traced over my bare shoulders, the neckline of my dress, the secrets beneath.

“Josie, I’d prefer it if you were amenable.”

“This is business we’re talking about.”

“Business is my pleasure.” He arched an eyebrow. “And it could easily be yours.”

“I’m only interested in selling my property.”

“And I am very, very interested in what is on that property, what comes with it, what I might do to replace what was lost.”

“What you burned,” I said.

He sipped his wine and motioned for me to do the same, but I refused. “You still believe I set fire to your shop?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“To frame Maddox. To punish me for refusing you.”