Crushed (Crystal Brook Billionaires) (21 page)

She waved her hand dismissively. “We’ll get to that soon. I want to hear about what you do day to day here. I’m sorry I haven’t called sooner. I’ve just been so busy and sometimes I plan to, but then it slips my mind…”

“It’s all right, Mom. Really. And I haven’t been doing much else other than working on the house. Sometimes I hang out with my neighbors. Other than that it’s pretty quiet around here.”

“Oh.” She sounded slightly disappointed. “You’ve been here for months.”

“Yes, I suppose so.”

“You don’t get lonely?”

I didn’t know what to say to that. Mothers rarely ever ask a question without some kind of agenda hidden behind the inquiry.

“It’s nice to get away,” Dad said from behind us. “The city is too crazy.”

“Right,” I agreed. “That’s true.”

Mom clutched my arm a little tighter. “Have you met any nice girls here?”

I chose my words carefully. “There are some nice girls, yes…”

“Are they pretty?”

“Ah…”

Dad interrupted. “Are you seeing anyone?”

“No,” I sharply said, leaving it at that.

Mom clucked. “You’ll find someone, Owen. Don’t give up hope.”

I wanted to be like everyone else and just brush off my mother’s words. I wanted to say that I didn’t care about finding someone, that I wasn’t even thirty yet, and that meant settling down wasn’t a priority. But really, the idea of having someone permanently in my life haunted me, because I’d already found someone. Keeping her was a different issue.

Claire was no ones to keep.

“Or,” Mom said slowly, “you could not stay here.”

I looked at her. Take my mother’s supermodel height and add high heels, and we were almost eye to eye. Her big brown eyes gazed back at mine, the lashes innocently batting.

“What do you mean?”

“You could leave Crystal Brook.”

“I know that.”

“You could come to California. Work on the vineyard.”

I let the offer sink in, then glanced back at my dad. He nodded. “We’ve been talking about it. It would be great to have you there.”

“I don’t know what to say,” I admitted.

Mom sighed in pleasure. “It’s so beautiful there, Owen.”

“I know.” I’d seen the pictures she texted and emailed me. Although her phone calls hadn’t been regular, the pictures had been. All year long I’d been getting snaps of lush green hills, horses in pastures, and what looked like miles of grape vines. The vineyard looked just like the kind of place I loved to be the most.

A new thought occurred to me. “You don’t think it’s good for me to be here?”

My mom glanced over her shoulder, asking my dad for help. I slowed down, and we all came to a stop at the corner.

“We worry about you, yes,” Dad said. “You’ve become a loner over the last few years.”

I exhaled heavily. “All right.”

“I notice you’re not denying it.”

I spread my palms. “I don’t think I really can.”

“You would like the vineyard. Between it and the horse ranch, there are lots of people there. Dozens of workers. And the nearest town is only fifteen minutes away.”

“It’s so cute,” Mom added.

I nodded slowly, the idea growing on me. “But my house…”

Dad spoke up. “Keep it. Come back here and work on it. Or finish up what you’re doing now and then come to California. We just want you to be happy, Owen.”

“I know. Thank you.”

I looked down at the pavement. Really, what was keeping me in Crystal Brook, other than the house?

And Claire.

Claire. I needed to let her go. She had wounds to heal, her own path to hack through life. I had only gotten in the way of all of that.

Despite what I knew to be true, that little light shone deep in me, that one that beamed brightly with the promise of what could be. It told me that Claire and I had a chance, that — despite how it seemed — our meeting had occurred perfectly on time. I couldn’t see all the reasons behind it, but that didn’t mean our crossing paths hadn’t been supremely orchestrated.

And if we truly were meant to be together one day, didn’t that also mean it would happen no matter what I did?

I took in a deep breath. There were too many questions, and no matter how hard I tried, they couldn’t all be answered in one go.

I looked back up at my parents. “Thank you. I’ll think about the offer.”

Mom beamed. “Wonderful. You’d love it there. Really.”

Dad nodded. “Come and visit. Wait until you do that to make your decision.”

“All right,” I agreed. “I will.”

Claire

“I
t looks amazing,” I told Gwen, shading my eyes so I could inspect her finished sun room.

“Yeah, it does.” She sighed.

“What?”

“I was just thinking of how much more there is to do now.”

“So stop thinking.”

I turned and looked across the backyard, at the stone path that had recently been put in. It winded its way through the trees along the side of the yard, ending at a stone bench in the corner. Near the bench was where the arch for the wedding would go. They’d yet to pick one, but Jason was flying in that weekend so the two of them could go shopping for it together.

“I have to hire another person for the shop,” she announced.

“Why?”

“It just keeps getting busier. All of downtown keeps getting busier.”

I stuck my tongue out. “Ugh. What’s with all these people moving here?”

“It’s good for business.”

“Yeah, I know… Hm.”

“What?”

“You don’t have to keep that shop if you don’t want to.”

Gwen was quiet. Slowly, I turned to look at her. The look in her eyes said my remark had hurt her.

I sighed. “I’m sorry. That sounded wrong.”

“How did you mean it to sound?”

“It’s just… well, you don’t need the money. Your hubby makes more than enough.”

Her fists landed on her hips. “I don’t need my fiancé to support me.”

I thought about asking her who had paid for the big house we were standing behind, but that was too snarky and would start a fight, and there was no reason to do that to either one of us.

Thinking quick, I reeled it in. “I just meant that it seems like the place stresses you out a whole lot.”

“It always has.”

“So…”

“So it’s always been my dream to have that store.” Her brows furrowed. “Why are you talking like this?”

Because Jason is retiring and I thought you might want to join him. I bit my tongue. Jason still hadn’t revealed that plan to anyone but me, and it wasn’t my place to bring it up. For all I knew, he had a second part to the plan that included helping Gwen with Freddy’s.

“It was just a thought,” I mumbled. “Sorry.”

“It’s all right,” she said, suddenly sounding tired. “I’m sure that, from the outside, I look anything but happy right now… thank you.”

“Thank you?”

“For coming here and helping me.”

“I want to be here,” I sincerely said.

She nodded. “Cool.”

“Speaking of which, I’ve got calls to make. And I need to stop by the grocery store and pick up bell peppers. Are you coming for dinner tonight?”

“I’ll be at the shop till closing.”

I looped my arm over her shoulder as we walked across the yard. “I’ll bring you a kebab. Dad’s grilling.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“Can it. I’m not going to let my little sister eat muffins for dinner.”

Gwen laughed. “Muffins for dinner isn’t exactly torture.”

“Yeah, but you need to stay the same size you are now. Your wedding dress has already been ordered.”

“That’s right,” she said, biting her lip. “Okay, bring me some dinner. Thanks.”

We walked around the side of the house and into the driveway. Gwen waved and climbed into her car. I ambled down to my rented blue Nissan parked on the street. I opened the door and let out some of the trapped heat before climbing in. The summer had abated slightly, but full on fall was still weeks away. We were counting on a warm day for Gwen’s wedding and the only thing that could likely spoil it would be rain.

The last few weeks had flown by. In between working in the little office I’d set up in Mom and Dad’s downstairs guest bedroom and helping Gwen get every little detail for the wedding ready, I’d been running around like a chicken with its head cut off.

Exhaustion was good. It stopped me from thinking too much.

Unless, of course, it was nighttime and all distractions had faded away. When my head hit the pillow, it began… the questions.

There were all the same old ones, of course: the ones about Peter. Where would we be if he were still alive? Would we really be together like I had sworn we would be?

And, if so, was I doing him an injustice by wanting to move on?

The answer to that last one seemed to be yes. Shamefully, I wanted to get on with my life. I wanted to badly, despite the fact that the man I loved was still always half on my mind.

And then there was Owen…

What I’d done to him was wrong. There was no way of apologizing that could be big enough. If Owen and I ever had the chance to create some kind of future together, even if that future was years down the road, I’d blown it big time.

Basically, the biggest question I had was this… why did this have to be the shittiest year of my life?

It’s also a great year, I would sometimes think. Because although I’d lost Peter, I had at least found him. We had connected, and that bond would last forever. I didn’t know what I thought about the afterlife, but I swore, sometimes in quiet moments — in bed at night or alone near the river — I could sense him there with me. I could almost smell his aftershave, could almost feel his eyes on me.

I never let myself think too much about those moments. If I did, I would question whether or not he was really there. Instead, I just closed my eyes and fell into them, letting myself get carried away.

I turned the car on and headed down the road and to the local Food Lion, the path such a familiar one that I didn’t even have to think about it. I’d been spending half my nights sleeping at Gwen’s and half at Mom and Dad’s, depending on where I happened to be when the day came to a close. Though the stay was temporary, it felt, in a way, like I was starting a new life and leaving New York behind.

Maybe I wouldn’t return after all. With Jason selling the company, it seemed like a good opportunity to get out of the city. I’d gathered a good collection of memories there. I’d gone through enough triumphs and tribulations. I saw ghosts walking its streets and sitting on its park benches.

Perhaps my time there had officially come to an end.

I pulled the car into a space near the far end of the parking lot and grabbed my purse. Racking my mind, I tried to remember if Mom had asked for anything other than bell peppers.

The vegetable section was frigid. I tore a bag from the dispenser and dropped a red and a green bell pepper in. My arms wrapped around myself, I turned for the front of the store.

A man stood at the wine and beer aisle, staring at me. I halted when I realized it was Owen.

There were a few yards between us, but neither one of us said anything. We just stared across the divide, the uncomfortable moment stretching out.

Slowly, he raised his hand in greeting. “Hi.”

“Hello,” I awkwardly said.

It was weird to talk to him from so far away, but I was also afraid to get up close. We hadn’t spoken at all since my phone call after the night I ditched him, and I had no clue how he felt about me. My guess would be he didn’t have the most positive feelings.

Knowing I had to at least act normal, I walked up to him. He stood motionless, a bottle of red wine in his hand.

“Ah,” I said. “That’s a good one.”

I couldn’t see the label at all, so I had no idea which wine he’d picked.

Owen looked down at the bottle. “Is it? That’s good. I kind of just randomly grabbed it. The wine store is closed today.”

“Oh, is it? That’s too bad.”

“Yeah.” He nodded, looking back up and at me.

I shifted my weight. At least the conversation couldn’t get any more strained or weird.

“How are you?” he asked.

“I’m good. I’m here helping with Gwen’s wedding.”

“Oh, right. That’s soon.”

“Next month.”

“Great.”

He was trying to act interested and happy to see me, but there was a sadness — or maybe an irritation — hidden beneath the words. The man probably despised me. Perhaps the only thing stopping him from yelling at me and telling me how cruel I had been was the presence of other shoppers.

I wound the plastic bag holding the peppers in my hands. “I wanted to call you,” I said, the words spilling out in one quick breath.

The corner of his mouth twitched. “It’s all right that you didn’t.”

I slowly shook my head. “I don’t know that it is… I mean…” I looked around to see if anyone else was near. The only other person in sight was an old lady testing the firmness of avocados, and she didn’t look like she had very good hearing anyway.

I licked my lips and tried again. “What I mean is that I shouldn’t have done what I did. I shouldn’t have even…” I sucked in a breath.

“I understand why you might regret it,” Owen softly said. “You don’t have to explain it to me, Claire. I know I can’t understand everything that you’re going through, but I at least have a sense of how difficult it is. At least I think so.”

I shifted from one foot to the other. “I feel like I ruined any good friendship we might have had.”

A little smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. It seemed genuine. “It’s nice to hear that.”

I scoffed. “It is?”

“Yeah, because it sounds like you still hope we can be friends.”

I looked up at him, at his strong but somehow boyish face, his wide, trusting eyes. Owen was an old soul with a child’s heart. Hurting him was wrong. Maybe there was some way I could make reparations for what had happened.

“What are you up to tonight?” I asked.

He gestured at the wine bottle. “I’m going to dinner at some friends’ house. They live right down the block from me.”

“Oh. That’s nice. I was, ah, going to invite you to dinner at my parents’.”