Chapter 7
Chapter Seven
Lavender
It's barely past lunch when Ruby's incredulous ringtone comes through the phone. "I had to learn what's been happening to you through the Kentbury grapevine." Her voice rises with each word, frustration evident in her tone. I can picture her pacing back and forth, her free hand waving wildly as she speaks.
I chuckle softly, trying to lighten the mood. "Wow, who gave you caffeine after ten in the morning?" I reply.
"Come on, be serious for a second. I'm not sure where to start. I mean, our parents sold the house. Are you kidding me?" She lets out an exasperated sigh, and I can almost feel the tension radiating through the phone. "I was planning on heading up next weekend so the kids could spend some time with you."
"Right. I was definitely surprised when I found out yesterday. Well, at least you found out before you got here, unlike me. I do have good news and bad news though," I say. My fingers fidget with the hem of my tank top, enjoying the momentary suspense.
"What is the good news?" Ruby asks, her voice suddenly filled with excitement.
"The Kentbury grapevine is still working perfectly. Actually, it's so good that the information gets all the way down to Maryland in less than twenty-four hours."
Ruby groans. "Lavender, this isn't funny. What's going on? Are you okay?" Her voice shifts from annoyed to concerned, and I can hear the worry in there too.
"Oh, it's in fact hilarious," I counter, still grinning. "So who told you about my eventful day?" I ask, as I start grabbing my clothes so I can take a shower. It's been a long day, and it's just the beginning.
"Don't worry about who told me. You didn't answer my questions. Are you okay though?"
I sober up, realizing that she's genuinely upset. "I'm fine, Rubes. It's just been a lot to process, you know?" I admit, searching for my shampoo. I'm pretty sure I brought it with me. "The house, the temporary job offer, everything's happening so fast . . ."
As I delve into the details, she listens without interruption.
Earlier, I had a meeting with the McFolley siblings and Lou's fiancé, Henrik. They have so many plans for the summer camp, but still not enough activities or camp counselors. Sinclair doesn't want to be the swimming instructor, but Paul swears he'll be the one in charge of that part of the program.
He was a national champion or something like that. If it hadn't been because his father needed him to focus on his studies, he could've gone to the Olympics. At least, that's what Paul claimed. Sin—that's what they call him—said he wasn't that big of a deal.
I offered arts and crafts since I'm good at creating things out of almost anything. When I was about to go to college, I couldn't decide between electrical engineering or art. I went with the one that would pay the bills while knowing that I would be able to draw and create things no matter what I did for a living. It's a decision I've never regretted, even if it meant putting some of my passions on the back burner.
In the end, it worked out marvelously since I can do both—create while applying my knowledge. I accepted the position since it includes living in my old house for the next six weeks. Meanwhile, Sinclair and I will be doing some updates to the structure—along with the construction crew.
"Knightly called me to give me the 4-1-1 about last night," Ruby states, her tone filled with concern. "We're worried about you, but she said the McFolleys covered your stay for the next week."
My eyes widen in surprise. "They did? I'm okay with paying for my own room."
"Uh-huh," Ruby confirms, and I can picture her nodding on the other end of the line. "Something about trying to get you to work for them because Genie says you're the best cookie decorator. Which I guess is why they offered you the camp counselor gig."
I laugh, shaking my head. "I wasn't. That was you," I remind her, a hint of amusement in my voice.
"Obviously, but you're the second best," she teases. "Now, tell me about the guy you were canoodling with this morning by the lake." Her tone turns mischievous, and I can practically see the glint in her eyes.
"Who told you about that?" I shriek, my cheeks heating up. "For fuck's sake, this town is too nosy, but also there was no canoodling." I pace around the room.
"So, you like this guy, huh?" Ruby concludes, and I swear I can picture the smile of satisfaction on her face.
"Not really," I lie, biting my lip.
Sinclair is pretty hot, but he's also broken. His divorce isn't the issue. It's the fact that he's not even interested in falling in love. I mean, it's not like I want him to be with me, but Sinclair McFolley is the kind of guy I have to avoid if I ever want to find my Prince Charming.
Not that I need anyone to save me, just someone to be my other half. Although I do hope he finds someone. I can't help but think about the sadness in his eyes, the way he seems to carry the weight of the world on his shoulders. There's something about him that draws me in, despite my better judgment.
Good thing he's leaving, and our summer friendship will be strictly platonic.
"It's okay to have a rebound fling after such a nasty breakup," Ruby suggests, her tone gentle.
"No, it's not," I say defensively.
"Come on, it's summer, and you need to wash away the bad taste of Theo's betrayal."
I sigh, feeling a pang in my chest at the mention of the cheating-bastard. "I take it you saw his latest post," I say, my voice barely above a whisper.
"Yep. Sorry, Lav," she apologizes, and I can hear the sympathy in her voice.
I take a deep breath, trying to push away the memories of Theo. "It's okay. Last night, I realized I wasn't in love with him, just with the idea of finally settling down," I admit out loud.
"You'll find love," Ruby assures me, and she probably doesn't believe that I'm not brokenhearted.
I said it then and I'll repeat it. My pride hurts the most. Well, that and him trying to take my business away.
"It's possible. If I found my other half, you will too," Ruby states so sure of herself .
I can't help but scoff, the skepticism practically rolling off my tongue. "Uh-huh. I'm almost thirty, Ruby, starting from scratch in a pool of spectacularly unimpressive eligible bachelors," I grumble.
"Which is exactly why I said you should have a rebound fling for now," she chimes back and maybe she's right.
Nodding to myself, even though Ruby can't see, I start heading out of my room, the idea slowly settling in. A fling could be refreshing, I think, my steps echoing down the hall toward the common bathroom.
"Listen, I'll do it, but I'm not just going to jump into bed with someone," I assert, trying to sound more convincing than I feel.
"You need to. Just have sex with the guy from the lake—just for the next few weeks," Ruby urges me, as if it's almost as important as breathing oxygen or drinking six glasses of water at least to stay hydrated.
Is it really that simple? Am I considering this? Halfway down the corridor, my hand reaches out, gripping the cold metal of the bathroom door handle. "And what am I supposed to say, Ruby?" I ask, my voice a mix of amusement and horror. "Hey, Sinclair, is it okay if we just, I don't know, have sex for a few nights? If we're going to hang out, might as well get naked and enjoy it?"
"That's a little forward, but we could discuss it." I freeze. The voice isn't coming from my phone. It's deeper, right behind me, rich with humor and a touch of surprise. My heart leaps into my throat as I whirl around, my face flushing a spectacular shade of red when I see Sinclair standing there, an eyebrow raised with a smirk playing on his lips.
The phone nearly slips from my grasp, and for a split second, I wish the floor would open up and swallow me whole. "Sin— Sinclair. I, uh, didn't see you there. I was just—" I stammer, the words tangling in my throat. "My sister . . ."
"No need to explain, Lavender. Sounds like an interesting proposal, though."
My embarrassment morphs into a nervous laugh, the absurdity of the situation washing over me. "Ruby and the gossip and . . . it's obviously a joke. I mean, you and I naked. Nah," I manage to say, though the half-truth hangs awkwardly between us.
"Of course," he replies, his smile broadening. He steps closer, his presence disarmingly comfortable. "But if you ever decide you're not kidding—let's just say I'm open to discuss it."
He winks and passes by into the bathroom, leaving me standing in the hallway, slightly dazed and more flustered than I'd like to admit.
Did he really say he's open to it?
No, the real question is, am I open to it and actually contemplating sex with Sinclair?