Chapter Eleven

October 29th

Two days from now, it would be her favorite holiday.

She stood in the middle of the street and scanned the houses she'd done on both sides. This might be her most inspired year ever. The interiors were just as warm and inviting, and tastefully spooky.

In two days, hundreds of people would be touring these houses, parking in a big side lot, bringing their kids to trick-or-treat in one of the best Halloween-themed neighborhoods in the state.

The yards were adorned with extravagant skeleton and vampire décor, haunted graveyards, and enormous webs hanging from towering trees with mechanical spiders that would drop down when anyone got close enough to the motion sensors. Every yard was different, and over the top in the best way.

Danielle hadn't done many of the houses on this part of the street, so it's where Demi had decided to come and take promotional pictures for her flyers and website for next year.

She felt a sense of accomplishment. Danielle had put a huge dent in her business. At times, Demi had been working scared, nervous that she wouldn't make enough to pay her property taxes and the yearly rent for her warehouse. The rest of the year she coasted, making her income from the pumpkin patch that they would shift over to a Christmas-tree farm in a week's time, and then the growing season in between. It was tulips in the summer, and a fruit farm where families could pick their own berries. But this seasonal job? This was where she felt alive, and like her exact self. She enjoyed the creative process so much.

She wished Halloween could last all year round.

It was bittersweet approaching the 31st, knowing the next day, the countdown would be 364 days until she could enjoy this holiday again.

But…

The bright side was that November first wasn't going to feel so hollow this year, because Tyler was here. They'd already talked about bullying their parents into accepting each other so they could do a big, combined Thanksgiving dinner this year. That part had been Tyler's idea initially. He had a much bigger mountain to climb with that idea, since he'd charmed her mother, unbeknownst to her.

He'd brought her a dozen black roses and had a sit-down talk with her yesterday. He'd told her he was sorry for being a shithead kid back then, and toilet-papering her house. He'd told her mom how much he liked Demi, and hoped that over time Mrs. Darke would see the good in him.

That was grown-man shit right there. Her father had never really minded him, and thought him funny for the most part, but her mom had watched her fall apart back when she was younger, after that kiss and rejection.

Tyler was a fixer, she was starting to learn.

His work had finished up yesterday. He had single-handedly done the lighting on almost every home in this part of the neighborhood over the last couple weeks, which was wild. His work ethic was sexy. Already he spoke of doing this with her next year, and she loved it.

Right in the middle of her clicking pictures for her website, Danielle pulled up in a brand-new truck that was the same make and model as Demi's.

"What the hell?" she muttered, lowering her phone.

"Hi!" Danielle called, hopping out with a coffee in her hand. She was dressed in orange leggings, and a black thermal that hugged her perfect curves. Her platinum-blonde hair was pulled back in Viking braids, and her makeup this morning looked like it belonged on a runway.

She approached as Danielle was pulling her tailgate down. The bed of her truck was full of real pumpkins in the varieties they sold at her family's pumpkin patch.

"Nice truck," she said, annoyed.

"Thanks. I saw yours was working well for you, so I got a newer model," Danielle quipped.

She swallowed her sarcastic laugh down. "Real pumpkins now?" she said.

"Yeah, your mom was kind enough to cut me a deal."

"No, she didn't."

Danielle gave her a harsh smile and cocked her head. "No, she didn't. She probably overcharged me."

"Why do you do this?" Demi asked, finally giving a voice to all of the roiling feelings she'd had over the decorating season.

"Do what?" Danielle asked innocently.

"Copy everything I do?"

"Because you came up with a good business model, but I know I can do it all better than you."

"It's not doing it better if you just chase my scraps."

"Your scraps."

"You undermine my business and undercharge just to take clients away from me. I get a truck, you get a truck. I get real pumpkins, you get real pumpkins. Nothing you do is original. You're just an off-brand version of me wishing it was more."

"Hmm," Danielle said darkly. "Or perhaps I'm your replacement."

Demi shook her head and walked away. "You have problems, Danielle."

"You're going to have problems next year," Danielle yelled after her. "I have plans, and then you will be the off-brand version. No one will want to work with you."

"What is it?" Demi yelled, rounding on her. "Why are you obsessed with what I do?"

"I'm not!"

"Yes you are! You always have been. It's not healthy! It's fucking creepy. You've given me way too much room in your mind, when I don't even think of you. Why have you given me that kind of power in your head?"

"Because you get fucking everything!" Danielle screamed. Her blue eyes flashed with rage as she approached. "You get fucking…everything. Since we were kids, it's been Demi Rhone Darke, the special one. The fun one. The valedictorian, when everyone knows I should've been the one to make the speech! I worked hard! Teachers just gave you good marks because of who your family is in the community. I have to actually earn what I get."

"That's what this is about? Me being valedictorian a hundred years ago? I earned that, it was not because of my family's name, Danielle! I worked my ass off for it back then. You acting like I'm just handed everything is so messed up. It takes away from the quiet work I do, and it is quiet! I work harder, and more hours than anyone I know, and I don't complain. Is that what you need? You need my success to look harder? It is hard-earned!"

"I was moved on, but then what do I see splashed all over the news? Your stupid bitch face, out as a crow shifter. Once again, Demi Rhone Darke is soooo special." Her words held venom.

"Oh my gosh," Demi muttered, disgusted. "You think I did that for attention? I don't like attention. I don't like people looking at me like I'm an alien, or wanting to talk to me about this part of me that has been this huge secret all my life. You need to go to counseling and let this go. This is uncomfortable. You're supposed to grow up. We aren't kids anymore, Danielle. This isn't even about me anymore. It's about your need to be like someone else, and it's not healthy. Work through your shit."

"I won't be chased off of my business!" Danielle yelled after her.

"Do what you want," she said, shaking her head as she walked away. "Just stay the fuck away from me."

"I'm going to take everything you have!" Danielle yelled.

The most unsettling part of that? Demi could hear the truth in her tone. Danielle truly believed that she would take everything from her.

That fact sat heavy on her mind as she went from house to house, taking pictures of the ones she'd decorated. She'd taken the interior pictures already, as she'd finished each one. She talked to a few of her clients who happened to be outside while she was working, but for the most part, it was a quiet morning after the blow-up with Danielle.

Around midday, a familiar truck pulled up and parked in front of the house where she was working, rearranging the skeleton scene in the front yard. This one had dozens of skeletons crawling out from the ground in a graveyard of fake headstones, but someone's dog had clearly gotten loose in the night and had dug up a bunch of the fake bones.

"Hey," she greeted Tyler as he slid out of his truck.

He wore a tight, charcoal-gray thermal and matching beanie, with dark jeans that hung low on his hips. Hot, hot man.

"What are you doing out here?" she asked.

"Thought you could use some lunch. That, and I have a meeting with a potential client."

"Whoo, last-minute job."

He leaned down and kissed her, then handed her a paper bag from her favorite sandwich shop.

"Prince Charming," she murmured as she looked inside. "Thank you so much. Seriously, this is perfect. I was just getting hungry."

"I got myself one, too. Want to eat on the tailgate before I meet my client?"

"A tailgate picnic?" she asked. "Okay sir, you can have anything you want from me."

His chuckle was deep as he led her to his truck. "You know what I want."

"Is this a bribe, so I'll let you play with my boobies?" she teased.

"Absolutely." And there was that crooked smile she'd fallen in love with.

He grabbed her waist and lifted her onto the tailgate easily, then took a seat beside her. He took a bite of his sandwich, then leaned over and pulled his phone from his pocket, read a text, and set the phone down between them.

She criss-crossed her legs and asked what time he wanted to meet up for Halloween. His phone vibrated on the truck bed, and naturally, she glanced down at it. Just a quick glance, but she'd read the caller ID fast.

She hadn't meant to. It was just a casual look at a lit-up phone, and now the name was burned into her brain.

Why was Danielle texting Tyler?

She knew it was Danielle, because he had her saved by her first-and-last name. When had they exchanged numbers?

The phone vibrated again, and she sat there frozen, anger building in her middle.

Another text vibrated the phone. What in the actual hell?

Tyler didn't seem to care that his phone was blowing up. He sat with one knee drawn up, chatting to her between bites about a conversation he'd had with his dad last night.

Another text, and she glanced down again. This one was from Erin.

I keep thinking about our talk.

Another text came through from Danielle. I'm up at 707 when you're ready. Client isn't home.

And then an image, but she couldn't see what it was.

"What's wrong?" he asked, chewing. He leaned over and looked at his screen as it faded to black. "You look mad."

"Why are you talking to Danielle?"

"Uuuh." His frown deepened. "Because she's wanting to hire me out to hang lights."

"Are you fucking serious?" She set her sandwich down and slid off the tailgate. "How long have you been talking to her?"

"Just a week or so." He sounded genuinely confused.

"Why is she telling you where she is, and that her client isn't home?"

"I don't know. What's your problem?"

"What's my problem? Besides two women, one of whom I hate, blowing up your phone right now?"

"Chh. How do I know who your enemies are, Darke? You don't talk to me about that shit. Look," he gritted out, lifting his phone so she could see the text message thread from Danielle.

The bottom picture dropped her heart right to the ground. It was an edited boudoir picture of Danielle in red lingerie. Feeling absolutely sick, she scrolled up to find another one. She'd sent him these after telling him her client wasn't home.

"I am so stupid," she uttered softly.

"What?" He turned the phone to himself and froze, eyes locked on the picture. Nice.

"She looks pretty," she told him. "I think we're good here. You haven't changed at all."

Sick, sick, sick.

"But I didn't know she was sending me these," he said. "I don't know why she did that."

"Because you encouraged it, Tyler! No woman is going to send you nudes if she doesn't feel she has a chance. Is Erin sending you naked pictures too? No! You know what? Don't even answer that. I don't care. I don't want to hear it. Oh my gosh, I'm so stupid," she said in a shocked whisper as she yanked her truck door open.

Tyler caught the door, and wouldn't let her shut it. "Okay, misunderstanding! We need to talk about this."

"You need to lie about it, you mean?"

"No, no! Just…give me a second—"

"To get your story straight? Fuck, Tyler! I can't trust you! I never could, but I did anyway, and now it feels awful. I let you in. I let you see me. I let you see my crow, and my nest, and my warehouse, and my whole life! I fucking let you in." The sob racked her body before she'd even realized she was crying.

"Wait, wait, wait. I didn't do this," Tyler said. "Just let me have a minute to figure it out. Don't leave like this."

Tears streaking down her cheeks, she told him, "Do you know what you did to me when we were in high school? I liked you so much. So much! You had flirted with me for so long, and then you finally kissed me, and I was so happy, Tyler. I was having a hard time with my crow. All she could see was you, and you had kissed me. You liked me. I wasn't alone in it! After all that time, I wasn't alone in it! And then you were making out with someone else the next day. You have commitment issues, Tyler. You didn't know what you wanted back then, and you don't know what you want now. You work hard to get me, and then you immediately throw attention at other women. You sabotage. You will always hurt me. It's what you do." She shook her head. "Not anymore. Lose my number. I deserve better than this, and we both know it."

"Please—"

"Fuck off," she told him as she pulled her truck door closed.

He didn't deserve to see how much he affected her.

Tyler didn't deserve to witness any of her tears, or see how deeply he could cut her.

He deserved silence and distance, just the same as before.

She was tired of being a game. From this day on, she would never be a game for a man again.