Chapter Sixteen

Wednesday, September 14, 2022

"Okay, Vi. I've waited long enough. Tell me about him," Honor demanded when she strolled into the bookstore on Wednesday afternoon. "Who is he? Where's he from? How long's he stickin' around? Oh, and why weren't you at church last Sunday?"

"Hello to you, too."

Honor waved her off as she approached. "Don't change the subject. How old is he? Has he ever been married before? Kids? Pets? Brothers? Sisters?"

Violet had been waiting for her sister to bombard her with questions about Simon. Whenever word got out that one of them was dating someone, Honor was the first to inquire at length. Everyone else relied on gossip to fuel their curiosity.

"Is there anyone else here?" Honor whispered when she reached the counter in the center of the store.

Not that she'd cared when she first walked in or anything.

"No."

"Good." She hopped up on the counter, giving Violet her full attention. "What's his name?"

"Simon Jennings."

"No middle name?"

"I don't know."

Honor narrowed her eyes, her brain clearly working to place the name. When she couldn't, she shook her head. "He's not from here."

"No. Definitely not."

"How old is he? Is he close to his parents?"

"What's with the third degree?" Violet asked, stacking the little coloring books she stocked for kids to take when they came in.

"It's no less than I get whenever I'm datin' someone."

"I don't recall givin' you the third degree about Luca," Violet retorted.

"Maybe you should have."

"Uh-oh. Trouble in paradise?"

Honor frowned. "No comment. Plus, I'm not here to talk about me."

She never was.

"I can't answer all your questions. I don't know the answers."

"Have you slept with him yet?"

"Yes," she said honestly because if she didn't, her sister would harp on it until she caved. This saved time.

"Good? Bad? Mediocre?"

"Phenomenal."

That shut Honor up quickly. Her mouth fell open as she stared a hole right through Violet's head.

"Are you in love with him?"

Violet snorted. "What? No. I barely know the guy."

She could feel her sister's eyes boring into her. She chose to busy herself by rearranging the books on a nearby table.

"What does he do for a living?"

"He's got a true-crime podcast."

"Oh. My. God! That Simon Jennings? Holy shit. You screwed a famous guy?"

Violet spun around to face her. "Shhh!"

Honor's eyes swept the room. "You said there was no one here."

"There's not, but you're so damn loud they probably heard you at the bakery."

Honor giggled. "Whatevs. Good for you, sis. It's about time you got some famous dick."

Violet shook her head. Her sister enjoyed being crass because she knew it was the fastest way to embarrass her. And everyone else in the world.

"And it was phenomenal famous dick at that. I'm proud of you."

Violet didn't get a chance to say anything more because Honor headed straight for the door and out into the afternoon sunshine. That was her sister. Honor had the attention span of a squirrel.

Half an hour later, Violet wished she'd been the one to hightail it out of the store with her sister.

"Hey, Vi."

"Dad," she acknowledged when her father strolled in, his expression friendly. It was the same expression he always had when he was going to ask for money.

"I like what you've done with the place," he said, scanning the area.

"It's the same as it was when I opened years ago, Dad."

"Are you sure?"

Violet stared at her father, waiting patiently for him to get to the reason he was there. Harold Anderson was about as reliable as a hands-free soap dispenser in a public restroom. It rarely worked when you expected it to, and half the time, it was empty and pretty much useless.

"What's up, Dad? You stop in to see Mom?"

"I … uh … spent the night there last night."

"Gross," she muttered under her breath as she resorted to adjusting the candy bars near the check-out counter. "Now you're headed back to the girlfriend?"

"She's outta town till tonight."

Which explained why he had a sleepover with her mother.

Double gross.

"You should leave Mom alone. Maybe then she'd be able to move on."

"You know our relationship's complicated, Vi."

Standing tall, she turned to face her father, planting her hands on her hips. "I know that you treat her like shit, and she deserves so much better."

He actually smiled. "I tell her that all the time."

"That doesn't make it okay," she countered.

Harold looked sheepish. "You're right. I know you're right."

"Why'd you stop by?"

"I just wanted to check on my girls. I saw Honor a few minutes ago. She mentioned you're datin' someone famous."

Oh, brother. That was what brought him here? He wanted to hit up a famous person for money?

Before she could blast him for being an asshole, movement in front of the window caught her eye. She looked over in time to see Simon walking toward the door.

No. No, no, no.

Shit.

The door opened and Simon walked in looking good enough to eat. His gaze swung to her and a smile started to form.

"Hi," she greeted in her customer service voice. "Welcome to Shelf Help. If there's anything I can help you with, just let me know."

It took only a second for Simon to catch on. "Thanks. I'm just lookin' for now."

"Take your time." Violet turned back to her father. "Dad, I'll be closin' up in a minute."

Harold watched as Simon walked toward the back of the store, turning back to her when he disappeared down one of the aisles.

"I came by to see if you wanted to get dinner sometime."

"Dinner?"

He nodded.

Violet had been down this road too many times. She knew if she accepted the offer, she would end up eating alone at some restaurant because Harold was notorious for not showing up. Half the time, he didn't even bother apologizing, claiming he simply forgot because he was busy doing something else. And since everything else was more important to him than his children, she usually believed him.

"Sure, Dad. How about tonight?" she said because she knew he would decline.

"I can't tonight, sugar. Sorry."

And now she got credit for accepting his offer. "You're busy. I know."

"I'm meetin' someone."

A woman, more than likely. And the chances were better than good that the woman he was meeting was not the wife or the girlfriend.

"Maybe another time, then." Violet started toward him, intending to walk him to the door.

"Hey, Vi," he said, sidestepping her. "I wanted to ask you for a favor."

For Harold Anderson, a favor usually meant a loan. And her father's definition of a loan did not consist of the payback part.

"I don't have any money, Dad."

"I just need a little. I'm good for it. My new job starts on Tuesday. I can have it for you by the end of the week."

She absolutely would not lend her father money, but she indulged him anyway. "How much do you need?"

"Two," he said simply, pretending to be interested in one of the books on the table.

"Two hundred?"

"Two thousand."

Violet wouldn't have been surprised if he had asked for two hundred thousand. The man had no shame whatsoever.

"What for?"

"I … uh…" He looked up at her, holding her gaze intently. That was a sure sign that a lie was about to come from his mouth. The man overdid eye contact when he was hoping to convince someone of something. "I need to get some work done to my truck. It's not reliable. And I got the new job and all."

"I thought your girlfriend bought you a new truck."

"She did," he said quickly, still staring intently.

"What kinda work does it need? You know Ethan's a mechanic, right? He might be able to help you out."

"No, no. I ain't lookin' for no handout from the Walkers."

Violet snorted because that was all Harold Anderson had ever looked for. After all, he married Daphne Walker because he'd been under the impression she was going to come into some money.

"Just lookin' for a handout from your daughters, huh?"

"It's not like that, Vi. You know it's not."

"I don't have that kinda money, Dad," she said with a sigh because arguing with him required too much time and patience. No matter how much she wished otherwise, Harold was never going to change.

He looked around the store as though assessing how much he could get for it.

"Even if I did, you know I wouldn't give it to you," she tacked on so he would know she considered the conversation over.

Violet peered back at the aisle where Simon was, wondering what he was thinking. Although she loved her father, she wasn't proud of the things he'd done or the things he continued to do. Some thought Harold might mature with age, but so far, that dream had died painfully. He was still the same selfish guy he'd been when he met her mother, married her, got her pregnant, and started cheating on her. And yet, for whatever insane reason, Daphne let him keep coming back.

"I've got a customer, Dad. And I'm about to close up."

His attention shifted to the cash drawer beneath the counter before he met her gaze again. "All right. Can you give your ol' dad a hug, at least?"

She did, but only because it would get him to leave faster.

"Whenever your new boyfriend comes around, I'd like to meet him," Harold said as she guided him toward the door. "I've gotta assess him, make sure he's good enough for you."

"Sure, Dad." Yeah, right. Like you should be judging anyone. "One day."

·····

Simon was trying not to eavesdrop, but it was difficult when he was the only one in the store. It wasn't an enormous place, so everything being said at the front carried to the back.

When her dad finally left, Simon came out of the aisle, moving slowly to the front, trying to gauge Violet's mood.

"I'm sorry you had to hear that," she told him as he approached.

Simon grinned. "What? That you've got a boyfriend?"

The crease in her forehead disappeared, and a smile curved her pretty mouth. "His word, not mine."

He pulled her into him. "So I'm not your boyfriend?"

Violet tipped her head back, holding his stare. "Do you wanna be my boyfriend?"

Simon wanted to be her everything, but he didn't say that. No sense freaking her out again. They'd somehow managed to get past his faux pas yesterday, but he didn't want to risk it again. He already knew what she did when she panicked, and the thought of her sneaking out on him did not sit well.

"I definitely do," he said, leaning in for a kiss.

"I'll take that under advisement," she whispered before melding her mouth to his.

He liked the way her fingers played with the ends of his hair. When this woman touched him, he never wanted her to stop. Unfortunately, that was what happened because Violet pulled back, forcing a smile as she let him go.

"What brings you by?"

"I thought maybe we'd go for a walk. Then maybe we could call in an order at the diner. Get it to go."

"Then what?"

"Maybe take it back to your place."

"That's a lot of maybes." Violet smiled. "You don't sound as sure of yourself as you did yesterday."

He clamped his arm around her back. "That's because we're not talkin' about sex. If you'd like to discuss that, I'll be more than happy to tell you everything I intend to do to you tonight once I get you naked."

She didn't say anything and he was almost positive the light in her eyes dimmed a little.

"Maybe not tonight," he said.

Violet swallowed and stepped back. "I was thinkin' we should sleep separately tonight."

Simon wondered whether her about-face had to do with their conversation last night or seeing her father today. Not that it mattered. He would respect her wishes.

"If that's what you need, you know where I am."

"It's just … we're movin' kinda fast, don't you think?"

They were moving fast, but Simon hadn't thought much about it. Granted, he had spent the night with her several times, so he could understand her wanting some space. The last thing he wanted was to overstay his welcome.

"I don't think so," he told her, keeping his tone level. "But I understand if you do. I'm not lookin' to rush you. Like the first night. You text, and I'll be there."

"Isn't that the definition of a booty call?" Violet teased.

"It is. I'll be your booty call if that's what you want."

Simon was only partly kidding. He wanted more from Violet. A lot more. But until they were on the same page, he would take his cues from her.

"But there's still a lot of daylight left. We could take that walk and then grab a bite at the diner. No takeout tonight."

"I'd like that."

And if it meant putting more of those smiles on her face, he liked it, too.