Page 11 of Falling for Autumn Again

“Dessie hired me—as anarchitect. I’m designing a building for her. A restaurant for the farm. What areyoudoing here?”

Her jaw clenches just like it used to whenever someone made Autumn uncomfortable. “Dessiedidn’thire you. I’m doing the hiring.” She drops her arms from their fold.

The blonde blows out a poof of air, momentarily distracting me. “Oh boy.” She rocks on her heels, front then back, hands on her hips. A breath exhales through her nostrils before her eyes land on me again. “You’reEzra. Autumn’s Ezra.”

"He's not mine!" Autumn says, whacking the girl on the shoulder with the back of her hand.

“Ouch!” The blonde rubs one hand up and down her shoulder.

Autumn’s arms return to their tight fold. She is all closed up. Everything about her body says so. She’s not giving out any answers today.

“Umm, hello,” the blonde says to me, her mouth in a flat line. “I’m Meg. Autumn’s best friend.”

The last time I saw Autumn, that wasmytitle.

“Shhh,” Autumn hisses, her cheeks blooming red.

It looks as if my presence is getting right under Autumn Green’s skin. It may be petty, but she’s caused a lot of heartache in my life. So, maybe I don’t mind being the thorn in her side for once. “It’s nice to meet you,” I say, holding out my hand to Autumn’s new BFF.

Meg reaches out to take mine, but Autumn slaps her hand away.

Shaking out her fingers, Meg shoots Autumn a glare. "Ow," she growls, complaining twice in two minutes. "So," she says, eyes wide on Autumn as if to dare her to smack her one more time. "Ezra. You said Dessie already hired you?"

“She did not!” Autumn protests.

“Except that she did,” I tell her. “She said she had a special job that needed a special touch and couldn’t be trusted to just anyone.”

“That’s not true!” Autumn huffs as if we were lifelong enemiesrather than people who had once planned out their entire lives around the other.

“Of the two of us,” I say, playing it cool. I am earning an Oscar for this performance. “We both know I’m not the one who tells lies.”

“I’m not a liar,” she spouts.

I just bounce my brows once—because we both know her plans didn’t change. We both know she never confessed the whole truth.

“I’m going to call Dessie!” Oof—clenchandgrind, the girl is pissed. “You”—she points at me—“stay outside.Orfeel free to go back to New York."

I’m tempted to leave. But I won’t. And I’d love to lie to myself and say I stay for Don and Dessie. But how can I leave when Autumn is finally in front of me, after all this time? So, I wait outside with Meg, Autumn’s new, very tall bestie.

“How long have you lived here?” I ask her. We didn’t go to school with her.

"Um," she hums as if she's unsure she should be talking to me. I am the enemy. "I don't live here anymore, actually. My husband is from Hawaii. We moved back there."

I flick my chin up. “That makes sense. Love never had much going for it.”

"I like Love," she says, and I think maybe I've offended her. I don't want to do that—she may be my only key to learning anything about Autumn. And in the last ten seconds, I've become determined. I'm not leaving without the truth.

“It’s not bad,” I say, though Autumn and I always planned to get out.

“Her family’s still around?” I ask, keeping up my cool visage. Maybe that’s why Autumn’s moved back—to be close to family. Or maybe being a chef in a big city didn’t work out.

Meg holds her purse to her chest, folding her arms over the soft leather bag. “Just her mom. Summer’s in Utah now.”

“Just her mom?” I repeat. I shake my head, more confused than ever. Mr. Green never would have left his family. Mrs. Green, April, depended on him. He was her rock. “Her dad…” I start, hoping not-so-tight-lipped Meg will give me just a little more.

Now that I’m here, I’m a sponge, sucking in all the info I can get.

“I never met Autumn’s dad. He died before I moved here—” Her lips press in on one another while she thinks. “I think Autumn said five years ago.”

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