Page 29 of Tempting Promises
“Okay.” I roll my eyes. It’s been two fucking years.
She clears her throat. “Will you come visit? I miss you.”
“I can’t come to New York. I have so much going on here with the farm.” I don’t tell her it’s because I had to let go of one of the farm hands because I couldn’t afford to pay him. “Faye is trying to convince me to go to the cabin so if I can get help, I can’t do both.”
“You should go with Faye! You love going up there, and you never do anything for yourself anymore.”
I can’t because I have no money. However, Faye isn’t hearing it. She told me it’s already paid for thanks to her parents and none of us have to worry about anything. It’s her present to herself, and it would be rude of me not to go.
“I might. She’s really good at guilting me.”
Aurora sighs. “Maybe that’ll be my route to get you here then.”
I stay quiet, hating her because she doesn’t seem to care what’s going on here. “I have a killer headache and really need some sleep. Can we talk tomorrow or something?”
“Of course, I hope you feel better. I love you.”
“Love you too.”
And again, I face this alone.
However, about all I can face right now is getting rid of this headache. I vow to never drink again if it would just ease up a little.
Knock, knock.
Great, now my headache is literally pounding. I shift the ice pack over my eyes.
Knock, knock, knock.
You have got to be kidding me. It’s someone at the door? Why? Because I am having to repent?
“Ugh,” I groan. “Who the hell is here?” Not that I’m expecting an answer since I whisper it to myself.
I roll off the couch, clasping my head as I get upright. Shuffling my feet to the door as the knocking starts again. “I’m coming, keep your pants on!”
I swear to God, if Rowan is on the other side of this door, I’m going to slam my head against it and hope to be knocked out.
When I open the door, it is not, in fact, Rowan Whitlock. It’s a very pretty blonde I’ve never seen before. “Um. Hi?”
She smiles. “Hi, are you Charlotte?”
“Are you lost?” I ask, not answering the question.
“I am if you’re not Charlotte Sullivan.”
“Then you’re not lost.” The sun is freaking blinding. I squint before continuing. “Who are you, and why are you looking for me?”
Do they send debt collectors to your house now on a Sunday? Is that a thing? I really hope not because it’s going to make it much more difficult to hide from them.
“Well, my name is?—”
I don’t have time for this, I cut her off to save us both time. “Whatever you’re selling, I’m not buying. We don’t want solar panels or pest control. I’m all stocked up on meat and whatever else people are going around town to sell. I had the worst night of my life, my head is pounding, and while normally I am much nicer, today...I don’t have it in me.”
I start to close the door, but her hand shoots out. “Kimberly Knight, with Knight Food Distribution.”
No. No, no, no. This can’t be happening. Oh my God. They said they’d be coming out in a few weeks to see the farm. Not today. Not after a bender from hell. My jaw opens and closes and then does it again as I scramble for words. “I...I didn’t . . .”
She smiles sympathetically. “Expect me?”
