Chapter 9

CHAPTER NINE

The windows were open; I was speeding through town like a madman, yet I felt like I was suffocating. I loosened my tie to relieve the pressure, but that didn’t seem to help. At this rate, even if I crashed and wrapped myself around a tree, I didn’t think I’d be able to feel it.

Seven fucking long years, and she waltzes back into town as if nothing had changed. Seven fucking long years, and she walks back into my life just as I had stopped seeing her in everything I did.

When I made it to the loft above my law practice, the first thing I did was grab the bottle of scotch and pour myself a drink, then another. After the third drink, my blood had stopped racing, my anger had faded, and I was back to my calm self.

A bitter laughed escaped me when I realized Freya Pratt was still the one person who could make me lose control. The thought pissed me off, and I ended up flinging the empty glass across the room, watching it shatter right before my eyes. This wasn’t real, it couldn’t be, but the sweet smell of apples followed me home. It was the first thing I noticed, even in the auto shop with the smell of oil and fumes. It was a nostalgic smell that reminded me of high school and memories I wished I had forgotten. Then she spoke, and every memory I had pushed back came back front and center.

I needed to get far away from Freya before I let go of whatever pride I had left and begged for answers.

My ringing cell phone woke me up the next morning. My neck was stiff from falling asleep on the sofa. The bottle of scotch was empty and a slight hangover was forming. Fuck me. I was losing my shit for a selfish bitch who didn’t think twice when she dropped me.

“Hello,” I answered on my way to wash my face, trying to at least feel a little normal.

Right away, Sandy, my multitasking secretary, began ranting in my ear. “I’m sorry to bother you, Mr. Dunnett. I know today isn’t your day to come and check things at the factory, but your brother isn’t here yet. I already called him three times, and he hasn’t answered. Normally, I wouldn’t care, but you have the investors coming in later today.”

“Sandy, it’s okay. I’ll be there in a few.”

Shit, where the fuck was my brother? Prescott should have been overseeing the factory today. I get that he was running for mayor, but we still had our obligations. I got changed fast, throwing on pants and a button-up shirt. I needed coffee to help with my hangover. I couldn’t believe my brother. We needed this deal to go through since the one I got three years ago would expire soon. The company we’d been helping assemble the parts for went out of business, so we needed a new contractor to keep all our employees. Things would also be easier if every once in a while my sister came and did her share. Juliet was in Minneapolis with her husband, Chad. She preferred city life.

Emma’s was empty when I stopped by for a cup of coffee. Someone had already filled the spot for the quote of the day. I couldn’t help the laugh that escaped me; I was sure little Em did not write it herself. I got myself. I’ll catch myself. I’ll pick up myself. Fuck relying on anyone. I got me.

“This is different, who wrote this?” I headed over to get my regular. I was sure she worked on it as soon as she saw my car pull up. That was just the kind of business owner she was.

“It was hectic this morning. I didn’t catch them, but I like it. It’s more assertive, aggressive even, but inspiring.” She was cleaning the countertop even though there weren’t any stains on it. Any other time I would pry, but today I was already running late, and I had enough of my own problems; I didn’t need more.

“I like it too, but I disagree with that statement. It’s always nice to have people who care about you lend a hand.”

Emma said nothing back. I didn’t expect her too, but I liked the girl, liked how she ran her business, and I would hate for her to one day close shop. I knew she wouldn’t say anything, but if it weren’t for Harold at the bank mentioning it, I wouldn’t have any idea that Emma was struggling.

As I made my way to the warehouse, I had to talk myself out of driving down the road just to see that old trailer. Nothing good would come of it. Right now I was acting like an addict that remembered how good his drug of choice made him feel.

“Oh, thank goodness you are here. I was freaking the F out.” Sandy came running toward me, her black hair in a tight bun like always and wearing a nice pantsuit. She was holding a stack of papers I had to go through before the investors got here.

“Hey, Sandy, can you do me a huge favor? Can you get flowers delivered?” At least that would take care of one of my problems for today.