Page 35 of The One I Hate
I don’t mean to make a dramatic exit, but I do as I shoot up from my chair and storm across Wes’s backyard. I don’t say bye to anyone as I race to my car and slam the door shut. Without thinking, I peel out of the driveway.
What the fuck? She’s here? In Rolling Hills? I start to turn toward Whitley’s house but I stop myself. That’s insane behavior. Except I’m feeling a little insane right now. That’s how she makes me feel. Crazy and insane and impulsive.
Well, more than normal.
I start driving aimlessly and use the voice command to call Emmett. Because I need answers, and he has at least some of them.
“Hey, man.”
“Who are you showing the restaurant to tomorrow?’
“Nice to talk to you too,” he says. “My night is going fine, by the way.”
“Great. Now answer me.”
“I thought you didn’t care to know?”
“Well, now I want to.”
“Sheesh, chill out,” he says. “My first showing is at eight in the morning. A woman named Whitley Evans set up the showing, but she told me she was doing it for a friend who would be the tenant.”
“What’s that person’s name?”
I hold my breath as I wait for the two words I know he’s about to say.
“Charlie Bennett.”
I almost rip the steering wheel off the column as I turn onto an empty side road. I don’t even bother throwing on my flashers. Hell, I barely remember to put the car in park. All I know is that in this moment I can’t drive. I can barely think.
She’s here.
“I’m going to go out on a limb and say that you know her?”
I try my best to calm down so I can figure out how I want to explain this to Emmett. I know I need to tell him something, but I don’t want to tell him everything. Not yet. Not until I know if she’s here for good.
No. Not if. When.
Because she’s going to be. I’m going to make sure of it.
“She went to college with us.”
“Really? I don’t remember the name.”
“She was in a few of my business classes. And she worked at the coffee shop.”
“Don’t you hate coffee?”
“I do, but that’s beside the point,” I say. “I need you to make this happen, Emmett.”
“I mean, I figured you wanted it rented quickly,” he says. “And I have a lot?—”
“No. You don’t understand. It needs to be her. Ithasto be her. Only her.”
I pictured Charlie the day I was at Mona’s and now that picture is even more clear. I can see her smiling and serving the people of Rolling Hills. I can hear her snark and wit come through as she trades barbs with the old men. I can picture it all so clearly.
This is how it’s supposed to be. She’s meant to be here.
And bonus? I can get my answers. Even if it comes with the punishment of knowing what’s underneath her apron.
