Bliss Brothers: The Complete Series Boxed Set, page 42
Frustration flares. “I thought you didn’t want to have a conversation.”
“I got new information.”
“Care to share?”
He folds his hands on top of the menu and looks me in the eye. “There aren’t any free rooms at Bliss. Normally, we’d provide you with one during the course of the repairs, but we’re booked through Tuesday at the earliest.”
“I’ll stay somewhere else, then.”
“That’s not—” He steels himself. “I was going to offer my guest bedroom, if you wanted to take it.”
“I don’t.”
“Okay.”
A silence stretches out between us, and I read over the menu again, even though I’ve made a show of wanting to leave. The truth is that I want chicken with buttered noodles. Charlie brought me here once before, when we came to stay, and I can still remember exactly how they tasted.
“There are a couple of smaller motels on the outskirts of town,” he begins, and I slap my menu down onto the table.
“I do want to stay with you.”
“Then stay with me.”
“I can’t.”
“You already have.”
“I can’t, because I want to talk to you, and you don’t want to do that. And I’m willing to respect it if you don’t want to rehash what happened. I don’t want to rehash what happened. It fucking sucked, fighting with you that way—”
Charlie arches an eyebrow. “I thought you didn’t want to rehash it.”
“I don’t, but I’m also wildly curious about you.”
He takes one look at my stony expression and laughs. Charlie laughing is like the sun breaking over the horizon in the morning. Once it’s happening, you know it’s inevitable. But his default expression is thoughtful seriousness. “I’m curious about you, too,” he admits. “But because there are…things…that have happened in the past…”
“I get it. But the universe—and don’t look at me like that, Charlie, I really think it’s true—brought us together for some reason. At the very least, you shouldn’t look at me walking around in my underwear without catching up a bit.”
“You’re going to walk around in your underwear?”
“I didn’t have anything on under that bathrobe, if you must know.”
Charlie groans, putting both hands over his mouth. “Jesus, Leta. You’re not going to let this go, are you?”
“I’m only here for two weeks, okay? I don’t want to be that far from the house. I wanted to get it in good shape so I can make my decision.”
“Decision about what?”
I look into those blue eyes, which are on fire with a need to know. I did it on purpose. I’m that person. Charlie Bliss could never resist getting new information, and I’ve hooked him with it. Fish, meet bait.
“I’m ready to negotiate,” I tell him.
He presses his lips together, a smile sneaking out nonetheless. “Terms for what?”
“I’ll tell you everything that’s going on.”
“Deal.”
“If we can both agree to leave the past in the past.”
Charlie leans back in his seat, looking thoughtful as usual. “How much of the past?”
“The parts that hurt.”
He gives one crisp nod. “This doesn’t mean we’re committed to anything.”
“No. But I already ran into you once. I don’t want to hide from you for the next two weeks. I can’t hide from you in your own house. Do you know how awkward that would be? I’d rather pay for a motel. Even if funds are tight.” I mumble the last bit.
He hears me anyway. “Funds are tight and you’re waffling about staying with me?”
“Protecting the heart is priceless.”
“I thought we agreed not to bring up the painful parts.”
“There you go, bringing up the painful parts. My finances are not my proudest subject,” I say with a sniff. “That’s why I think it would be best if I—” I shut my own mouth. “There I go, getting ahead of myself. I won’t reveal any more secrets until you agree to the terms.”
“And those were what, exactly, again?”
“No dredging up past arguments. No fantasizing about me if you happen to see me in a state of undress—”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” Charlie puts both hands in the air. “That’s a dealbreaker.”
Maybe he’s kidding. Maybe he’s not. Either way, a glowing satisfaction spreads through my chest. “Do you really do that much fantasizing, Charlie Bliss?”
He picks up the menu again and fixes his eyes studiously to the print. “That’s the kind of information that would fall under the agreement, I think.”
“Then…do you agree?”
“Do you agree to stay in my guest bedroom instead of wasting your money on a motel?”
I purse my lips. “I wouldn’t take that attitude toward people staying in motels. If it’s such a waste of money to stay there, wouldn’t the same also be true of the Bliss Resort?”
“We offer much more at the Bliss Resort.” Fire in his eyes, and an edge to his tone that reminds me of bedrooms and living room couches and, once, the back of his car. Charlie extends a hand. “I agree to the terms. Do you?”
I take his hand and we shake. Firmly, without hesitation. His hand feels so big compared to mine. It’s been years since I felt this body-melting heart-swoon when shaking a man’s hand.
No. It’s been longer. I have never felt this way about shaking a man’s hand.
Damn you, Charlie Bliss.
I drop his hand. “I agree.”
“Good.”
“Is it?”
He locks eyes with me. “Yes. Now tell me how you ended up in Ruby Bay, down the street from me, after all this time.”
9
Charlie
“You never knew she owned a home here?”
“No. She didn’t tell anyone about the house. Not even her sister—my mom.” Leta tucks her feet beneath her on the sofa and cradles her wine glass in her hand.
She told me at Bellissimo that she’d inherited the house from her aunt, but that led into me telling her how I’d inherited the job from a man who left the company years ago, leaving the financials largely to my father and a rotating team of secretaries. I didn’t get in to the mess they’ve left, or the missing money. I’ll think about those things enough in the morning.
“I’m intrigued.”
“Tell me about it,” says Leta. “It was a double surprise. I never expected to inherit a house. I didn’t know there was a house to inherit. My parents have their house, I guess, but we’ve never gone into a lot of detail about the will. I think the plan is for it to be sold.”
“Does that bother you?”
“No. I didn’t grow up in that house. She and my dad got it after I moved out and went to college. It’s theirs.”
I can’t fathom having the Bliss property sold out from under me, and my stomach turns over. If I can’t figure out this money thing—or worse, if I figure it out and the problem is larger than anyone could have anticipated—we might end up selling it off piecemeal to save ourselves. It’s not imminent, but try telling my brain that in the middle of the night.
“And now this house is yours.”
She sips her wine and looks out the picture window at the front of my living room. We did end up going our separate ways after lunch, me to my office and her to the house to see the progress on the bookshelf. Pete’s guys set up a portable tent in the yard with sides that can roll up and down to let in the light during the day and close it off during the night.
“The house still feels like hers—Mari’s.”
“You mentioned her a few times.” I don’t add when we were together, since that seems like it’s tiptoeing too close to the “painful things” category.
“She was good.” Leta looks down into her glass and clears her throat. “The house was a surprise because we weren’t…I mean, we weren’t best friends, or anything like that. She spent time with me when I was growing up, but we didn’t get super deep.”
“Really?”
“Really.” She glances up at me. “This doesn’t count as painful, just so you know. Not like…some things we’ve agreed not to discuss.”
“Got it.”
“We were just different. She was quiet.”
I laugh at that. Leta is not quiet, unless she’s painting or sketching. “I’m surprised that stopped you.”
“From being close?”
“Yeah.”
“We were close. We just didn’t get deep. You know.”
I do, but only because of the time I spent with Leta. It’s one thing to be close with someone. It’s another to go straight to the heart of something.
Leta untucks her legs, and there it is—that look. The look that says let’s get deep. “What about you?”
“I didn’t inherit a house.”
She wags a finger at me. “We both know that. I mean, what’s got you down?”
“Nothing.”
“Quick answer.” She crosses one leg over the other and sweeps her hair back over her shoulder. “Also a lie.”
“No lie.”
“Charlie.”
How many other times has she said my name in exactly that way—half chiding, half affectionate—and taken down some wall I’d built up? A hundred? A thousand? Bricks fall from the wall I’d built around my feelings for her and hit the ground with a dull thud.
“I don’t know if I should be telling you this.”
“Please. You know you can tell me. I’ve always kept secrets.”
That, as far as I know, is true.
“Tell me one now to prove it.”
“Not a chance.” Leta sits up straight. “Never in my life.” If I believe in honor and duty as assigned by the Bliss family, Leta believes in keeping secrets. “But I’ll keep yours. You can tell me.”
If I tell her, that’ll be one step down the road that I can’t take back. I can already feel the tendrils between us getting thicker and stronger—harder to cut—and it’s a fucking risk. Because I still don’t know if she’s leaving or staying. I don’t know how much time is left.
“I can see you, you know. You carry all your tension in your shoulders.” She mimics it. It’s not unkind, but it is accurate—I’ve caught glimpses of myself in the mirror looking like that. “If it’s me, you can be honest. I won’t be hurt.”
“Who’s the liar now?”
“Fine.” Her cheeks redden. “It would hurt, but I wouldn’t show it.”
“No. I’ve gotten better about that.” Leta lifts her chin, and I know it’s true—I can see it in the set of her jaw and her clear eyes. Back when we were together she wore her heart on her sleeve. Now I see that it’s tucked under a layer of cloth. Still close to the surface, but not on full display.
“It’s not you.”
She lets out a long breath. “Thank god.”
“It’s something going on with the resort.”
Leta perks up again. “Like a murder?”
“God, no. Like…a financial conundrum.”
Her eyes light up. “That sounds better than a murder.”
“Of course it’s better than a murder. Nobody’s dead.” She bursts into laughter, then struggles to settle herself.
“I’m sorry. It’s not funny, I know. But it is better than a murder. I would never say otherwise.”
“It’s probably embezzlement.”
“Probably?” Leta drags a finger around the rim of her glass. “That doesn’t sound great, even theoretically.”
“It’s not great. There’s money disappearing every month, and I can’t figure out where it’s going. I’ve been working on it since July.”
“But Charlie, that doesn’t make any sense.”
“But Leta, I know. Trust me, I know. I’ve been digging into everything, all the records, and I can’t figure out who’s behind it. It’s a series of accounts, all going somewhere, but the transactions…”
“This shouldn’t be a thing, though. All banks keep records of transactions. Every transaction. There has to be a record somewhere.”
“That’s the thing. They’re all part of a…a kind of network. It’s part of the trust. The financial structure—”
“Will it be over my head.”
“It’s over my head, and I’m the one who’s supposed to be running this show.”
Leta nods solemnly, then puts her wine glass on the end table. Carefully. On a coaster. “You’re not going to figure it out tonight.”
“Who knows? Maybe I—”
“You’re going to dance.”
10
Leta
“No.”
“I knew you’d say that.” I go over to Charlie and extend a hand, even though he’s way taller and way stronger. There’s no way I can pull him off the couch, and part of me sings with that recognition. He works out. He worked out in college, but now that he’s admitted the thing about the resort, I can see it for what it is: desperation exercise. “I’m choosing not to listen.”
“I am not going dancing.”
“You are going dancing, and it’s going to be amazing.”
“Where do you think I’m going to dance?”
“Down on the beach.”
“No. No way. Beau’s parties aren’t my thing.”
I put both hands on my hips. “They should be, because he throws great parties.”
His eyes fill with skepticism. “How many of his parties have you been to? One?”
“Two. So I’m very experienced. Anyway, we’re not going to a party. We’re going to the beach. Right now. Come on.”
The sun has already set. The long summer nights are over, but we’re in that sweet spot where it’s not too cold and not too warm. I offer him my hand again.
“This is still your solution to everything, isn’t it?”
I thrust my hand toward him. “It’s a good solution.”
I can feel it—the weight of this moment. If he takes my hand and we go dancing, it will mean something. The exact meaning escapes me, which is why it’s a good thing I’m not a lawyer or otherwise involved in a career that hinges on exact meanings.
Charlie takes my hand.
He stands up from the couch.
“Okay.” He puts his hands in his pockets. “Let’s go to the beach.”
I only have to make one stop before we hit the sand: the rental car. In the trunk of the rental car I have a pair of portable speakers designed for beach use. I didn’t expect to get the chance to use them, but hey, when the universe gives you an opportunity, you take it.
Even if it means breaking up with your boyfriend, in some cases. The speakers fold down enough to fit in my carry-on. It fits neatly in my hands while we make our way down to the last bit of dry sand before the water’s edge. I settle it into a crest on the beach and kick my shoes off next to it. Charlie does the same.
“I feel ridiculous,” Charlie says, and a zing of pleasure sweeps through me along with the night breeze.
“Hmm,” I say, as if Charlie admitting such a feeling out loud is completely commonplace. “Shut your eyes.”
“Uh, no. I’m not going to be the idiot falling into the water.”
“Don’t fall in, then. Just close your eyes. I’m getting set up.” I set my phone into the slot on the speakers, then scroll through the music on the screen. I have a mix for situations like this. With a flick of my thumb I start the song, then turn the volume up.
It’s an old Pilot Five song from when we were in college. “There. So—” I stand up and face Charlie.
His eyes are closed.
He’s smiling.
“I thought we agreed to stay away from the painful parts.”
I know exactly what he means. This song was everywhere when we were together. It stayed on the charts for months, and people requested it from local stations forever. It was on in the background while we made dinner, or when we went for a rare dance at one of the college clubs, or when the radio was our alarm for the day. I swear, the day I drove away and left him behind, it was on then, too.
“This can be both.” There’s nothing between us now but sand.
Even that distance is too much.
The song rises, picking up tempo, and I step forward and take his hands in mine. He doesn’t open his eyes.
I close mine, too.
All the sensation of the night magnify. The sand beneath the soles of my feet. The breeze coming in off the lake. And Charlie’s hands, warm and sold in mine.
The beat to the song comes in heavy and strong and my hips move with the rhythm. Charlie lets go of one of my hands, and the next moment I feel his palm on my hip, following the movement. The intimacy of it stops my heart in place, the next beat lingering.
Then we’re both moving, dancing, and Wilder Felix sings like singing is the only thing keeping him alive. I don’t know why Charlie was worried about falling into the water—even with my eyes closed, I’m so aware of where the water is, so in tune to the shifts of the sand. And I’m so close to his body that the magnetism between us doesn’t feel like a magnet at all. It feels like the natural order of things. Like gravity. You can’t feel gravity until you’ve gone to outer space and come back.
The song changes to something pulsing, crashing, wordless, and Charlie takes my hand and spins me out away from him, then back into his chest.
“I tried not to think of you.” His voice rockets out over the lake and the waves throw it back at us, mixing in with the song.
“I thought of you every day,” I shout back. I don’t care who hears.
“I don’t even know you anymore.”
“I still know you. It’s the worst, still knowing you, Charlie Bliss. It means I can’t forget about you.”
“I could fuck all of this up.” All of this means, truly, all of it—his job at the resort. The work he does as a brother, as a member of his family. This dance.
“Anyone can fuck up anything,” I answer. “That’s the way of the world.”
“You can’t always fix it.”
In all this time, I haven’t opened my eyes, yet I still feel balanced. There is no danger of falling when I’m in his arms. Falling to the ground, anyway. Falling in love? I did that once. I’m not sure it ever left me. I tried to leave it there, getting smaller in the rearview mirror, but the universe wouldn’t have it. It picked me up and put me right back in Ruby Bay.
