Chapter 6

Chapter Six

Blythe

I let out a yawn and sucked back the remaining dregs in my coffee mug before refocusing on the invoice on the computer screen in front of me. I’d never been a fan of clerical work, but when I got to Hope Valley I hadn’t really been in a position to be picky when it came to finding a job. Unlike Elliott, I hadn’t had a clear idea of what I wanted to do once I graduated from college. He’d known he wanted to teach—hell, we met because he was TAing one of my classes. I’d gotten a degree in business management mainly because it sounded good, but I spent the first few years of our marriage bouncing from job to job, trying to find my passion. I eventually discovered it when Avett came along. I loved being a stay-at-home mother, but without Elliott’s paycheck, I’d needed to find a source of income fast.

Sure, there was Social Security, and Elliott and I both had life insurance policies, but I would have rather put that money away for my kids’ future than live off of it, so not long after returning to my hometown, I’d started my job hunt. None of the jobs I’d applied for filled me with excitement, but I told myself it was about taking care of my family, not finding the perfect fit. I applied for anything I thought I might have been reasonably qualified for, and the first callback was for a receptionist/file clerk for a local OBGYN and reproductive endocrinologist. The work could be mind-numbing, but Dr. Shaundry was kind, the pay was good, and the other women on staff were easy to work with. It could have been worse.

“So, I told him if he wanted that in the bedroom, he’d have to do better than an all-you-can-eat pizza buffet and a pitcher of beer at the bowling alley,” our lab tech, Diana, continued, recounting her latest dating fiasco to our office manager, Gretchen. “For that, I expected a lobster dinner with a side of filet mignon.”

Gretchen let out a whoop of laughter. “And what did he have to say about that?”

Diana scoffed. “That he wasn’t gonna shell out that kind of money until he knew it was worth it.”

“What an ass,” our nurse, Heather, muttered.

I could have sworn I heard a giggle come from the other file clerk on staff, Merritt, but when I glanced at the woman sitting at the work station beside me, her head was lowered, her face hidden behind her thick curtain of long, dark hair.

I’d only been here a couple months, but it was just long enough to notice the dynamic between the women was different with Merritt. It wasn’t for lack of trying on their part, but Merritt was incredibly quiet and kept to herself. When one of us tried to engage her in conversation, the most we could get out of her were short, whispered answers.

She was nice enough, offering small smiles when we managed to catch her eye, but there was something... off. My gut was telling me it wasn’t that she was shy; she was trying to hide herself from us, and that left me unsettled.

She looked to be somewhere in her late twenties, and was the only other married woman on staff, so you would have thought this conversation was right up her alley. But she volunteered nothing.

From the corner of my eye, I saw Gretchen and Diana look my way. They were both more than a decade younger than me and in their prime dating years. I didn’t have much in common with them, but they were sweet and hilarious, so I didn’t mind listening to their stories.

“What do you think, B?” Gretchen asked, pulling my attention away from the computer. “You think she should have put out first?”

I swiveled my chair around to face them. “Absolutely not.”

Diana looked at me with curiosity. My friendship with these ladies was mainly surface, so they didn’t know much other than that I was married for fifteen years, had three kids, and my husband passed away earlier that year. Because of that, they looked to me like I had all the answers. If only they knew just how unqualified I was to hand out dating advice. “So what should I do?”

I braced one foot on the floor and twisted my chair side to side as I tapped my pen on the desk, thinking her question over. “Personally, I’d hold out for a man who’d want to buy me a lobster dinner simply because he knew I was worth it, not because he expected something in return. And call me old-fashioned, but I believe the first date is too soon to be talking anal. That’s more of a fourth or fifth date thing.”

Diana and Gretchen burst into laughter just as the mechanical chime above the door went off, filling the lobby with a tinny sound that was a lot less pleasant than an actual bell.

I spun in my chair, the professional smile that had been affixed to my face drooped as I caught sight of the person who’d just come in. Merritt’s husband had come into the office once before since I started here. He was the picture of charm and swagger in his expensive suit, his perfectly styled hair, and the gleam of the thick watch on his wrist. He was an attractive man, there was no doubt about it, but something about him didn’t sit right with me, despite the attractive toothpaste-commercial-worthy smile. I didn’t like him. I’d been around enough to know that the persona he put on was fake, and I had a sinking suspicion that it was masking something dangerous.

He'd gone out of his way to charm the rest of us, even spitting pretty words regarding his wife for his audience, but I didn’t miss the way Merritt had curled even deeper in on herself as soon as he walked through the door, or the way her face drained of color. Seeing that had made me watch closer, so I didn’t miss the infinitesimal way she flinched when he leaned in to give her a kiss.

He was the same put-together, confident version of himself this time as he moved toward the long counter that separated our section of the office from the rest of the lobby. “Hello, ladies. Hope you’re all having a wonderful day.” He stopped in front of me since my station was front and center as receptionist, and cast his charismatic smile on each of us. “I just thought I’d surprise my lovely wife with a lunch date.”

Diana and Heather cooed over how sweet that was, but while they gave that walking red flag the attention he so clearly craved, I was busy watching Merritt for every little action and reaction. Diana and Heather might have thought it was sweet that a man was swinging by his wife’s work to treat her to lunch, but by the way Merritt’s complexion turned a ghostly shade of white and her hands fisted so tightly her knuckles bleached, I didn’t think she shared in their swooning.

Despite her body’s reaction, her lips tilted up into a shy, almost unsure smile as she turned to him. “Thank you, honey. But we’re kind of swamped today. I was planning on working through lunch to catch up.”

I could have sworn I saw a flash of anger flit across his face before he schooled his features. “Nonsense,” he insisted, his charming tone barely masking the command beneath it. “I’m sure your colleagues here would be more than happy to help you out so your husband can spoil you for an hour.” His gaze locked with mine, his smile tipping up even higher. “Isn’t that right, sweetheart?”

My eyes narrowed and my lips pulled into a tight, flat line. Unlike the other woman around me, I didn’t swoon at the bastard. I heard that sweetheart for the condescending insult it was meant to be.

I wanted to open my mouth and tell him, “You don’t fool me, asshole,” but something held me back. I was worried that a man like him wouldn’t take kindly to a woman bruising his ego, and I feared what that might mean for Merritt since she was the one who had to go home with him.

Instead of telling him to fuck off like I so desperately wanted to, I gave a single, clipped nod in agreement.

He smiled, but it wasn’t a smile of kindness it was one of triumph, like he thought he’d just bested me and gotten his way. It made me like him even less than I already did.

“See?” he chirped happily. “I told you. It’s all good.”

Merritt’s movements were jerky and robotic as she reached for her purse beneath the counter we worked at and stood, heading for the door that led into the waiting area. She smiled up at her husband, but I noticed the way her mouth pulled tight when he reached out and wrapped his fingers around her wrist. Not her hand, her wrist. As though his grip were a shackle, not an affectionate touch. I also didn’t miss the way his grip tightened to the point it looked painful. Alarms started going off in my head. I knew this man was dangerous without needing a lick of proof. Unfortunately, without it, there wasn’t much I could do to help Merritt.

Between the mind-numbing work, spending the rest of the day worrying about Merritt, and the fact that I hadn’t slept well in months, I was running on fumes by the time I handled school and daycare pickup, and it was barely four in the afternoon.

I would have given anything to take a nice, long soak in a hot tub with a glass of wine then sleep for a full eight hours, but there was still too much to do. I had to make dinner, help Avett and Adeline with their schoolwork, make sure everyone bathed—and by bathed I meant did more than just stand beneath the water for ten minutes before hopping out and declaring they were clean. At 9, 7, and 4, I still had to make sure my kids used soap.

Unfortunately, before I could do any of that, I had to stop at the grocery store. Thanks to all the stress cooking, Tristan’s pantry and fridge were running low.

“All right guys, you know the drill,” I said as I threw my SUV into park and twisted to look back at my kiddos. “You behave in there and you can each get one treat.” I held up my index finger for emphasis.

Ainsley did a little happy shuffle. “I wants a princess cupcake!” she declared, and I held back a wince at the thought of the mountain of pink frosting they piled on top of the cupcakes in the bakery section. With that much sugar, I’d be lucky if I got her to sleep before ten.

Adeline’s eyes were round with excitement. “Can I have a honeybun?”

I smiled at my oldest daughter. “Sure you can.” Then I turned to my boy. “Avett? What are you in the mood for?”

He tapped his chin in contemplation, the picture of seriousness, before stating, “ Technically, those bags of mini-donuts should count as one since they’re all in one bag.”

I gave him a look that my mom had given me countless times growing up. My baby boy was sometimes too damn smart for his—and my —own good. “Nice try, bud. Push it and I won’t let you pick. I’ll just get you an oatmeal raisin cookie.”

His face screwed up like he’d just sucked on a lemon. “Raisins are gross!”

I arched a brow. “Exactly. So I suggest you play by the rules.”

He rolled his eyes, the gesture making him look much older than his nine years. God, when did my kids start getting so damn big? “Fine,” he let out a beleaguered huff. “I guess I’ll get a cake pop.”

“Smart man.”

I had high hopes that my bribery would make this shopping trip go faster, but I should have known better, because the moment we entered through the retractable glass doors, they started bickering.

“I want to push the cart,” Avett proclaimed.

“Nuh-uh! You pushed it last time,” Adeline argued. “It’s my turn this time.”

My son narrowed his eyes at his sister. “No way! You’re too little. You can’t even see over the handle.”

Adeline stomped her foot and clenched her hands into fists. “Can too! Mommy said I had a growth sport and that’s why I had to get all new clothes. ’Cause my old ones didn’t fit no more.”

“It’s growth spurt ,” I corrected. “And both of you knock it off. Since you can’t play nice, neither of you gets to push the cart.” That was followed by a chorus of whiny objections, each of them blaming the other. The twitch in my eyelid sped up.

“Keep arguing and you lose your treats. This is your last warning.”

The two of them clamped their mouths shut but continued glaring daggers at each other as I lifted Ainsley and placed her in the seat at the front of the cart and started down the first aisle. We managed to make it down the bread, canned goods, and spices aisles without incident, but my luck ran out two aisles later. I was standing in front of the selection of pastas, trying to decide which would go best with shrimp in a garlic butter sauce when a crash whipped me around.

Avett stood there among what looked like a murder scene, broken glass and marinara sauce splattered everywhere.

He looked up at me with big, remorseful eyes. “Sorry, Momma. I was just tryin’ to help and it slipped.”

That twitch grew more intense. “That’s okay, baby, it was just an accident. But don’t move; there’s glass everywhere.”

Then Rhodes’s deep, raspy voice spoke from behind me. “Everything okay?”

How was it that this man always managed to run into me when I was at my worst?