Wrecked (Crystal Book Billionaires) (27 page)

“Joe and I wanted to do something for you,” she went on, hooking her arm over the back of the couch and turning to face me. “It would be kind of a present, but also an investment in your future. And even if you end up not staying in Crystal Brook, you could take it with you wherever you go.”

“I’m staying,” I told her with conviction. “For now, anyway.”

She smiled wide. “Good. So we wanted to get you a car.”

I stared at her, not knowing what to say.

“It wouldn’t be a new one,” she added, “But Joe will make sure to find one that’s good enough to get you started.”

“Why would you do that for me?” I asked over the lump that was growing in my throat.

“Well, Grace, you’re only getting busier and busier, what with your dog walking and school starting soon. I imagine since you’re staying you’re still considering taking classes?”

“Yeah,” I replied with a thick tongue. “Why not?”

Aunt Ginger nodded, satisfied. “We can go this weekend and look at some options.”

She patted my knee and started to stand up.

“Aunt Ginger,” I said. She halted at the edge of her seat.

I swallowed hard, tears forming in my eyes. “Thank you,” I said, even though the words must have been hard to understand. I cleared my throat. “For the car… and for letting me stay here. I don’t think I even said it when I first got here.”

She smiled. The kind of smile a mother would give their beloved child. “You’re welcome.”

I cleared my throat again, trying to explain myself, trying to come up with an excuse for why I’d been so mired down in my own misery on my first days in Crystal Brook.

“I was just…” I trailed off. “Stupid then.”

Aunt Ginger clucked. “No, Grace. Don’t say that.”

“It’s true.” I scoffed. “I’m still stupid.”

“No, you’re not,” she insisted.

I looked deep into her eyes. “Really. Thank you.”

Aunt Ginger wrapped her arms around me, her embrace warm and safe. At that moment, I knew without a doubt I finally had a new home.

C
HAPTER
E
IGHTEEN

Luke

I
waved my hand in front of my face in an effort to clear the dust.

“Kind of thick,” I remarked to the contractor, Larry.

“That it is,” he agreed. “Just cover your mouth and it won’t be so bad.”

I did as he instructed and blinked my eyes to clear them. In front of me loomed the back wall in the front room of what would soon be Community First’s second location. The plaster on the walls was being knocked down to reveal the bright red bricks underneath. Larry’s crew had just paused their efforts to take a lunch break, but dust still hung thick in the air.

The walls weren’t the only things that were still a work in progress. The flooring that had been in the old bank when I’d bought it still needed to be replaced, as well as the windows.

There was nothing in the spot I wanted to keep. The only thing great about the location was its spaciousness and its proximity to Crystal Brook’s lowest working class neighborhood.

When the place opened in two months, Crystal Brook would be the host of two pantries, meaning there would be more than enough food assistance in the town for those who needed it.

And after our grand opening on Oak Street, there would be more to come. Crystal Brook would be taken care of, but I dreamed of starting food pantries in other towns all across North Carolina.

That dream was what kept me going over the last two years… and through the last six weeks.

It kept my mind from drifting and lingering in places that it didn’t need to… that I didn’t want it to. It kept the flood of pain and regrets at bay. Mostly.

Because when I got home at night, Grace was there, waiting for me. I saw her in the shadows in each and every corner of my lonely house. I sensed her in my kitchen, sitting there quietly and watching me. And, worst of all, I felt her in my bed, her soft, warm form pressed up against mine when I woke in the night, covered in sweat and wracked by anxiety.

We hadn’t spoken since the afternoon at her aunt and uncle’s. When I’d gone into Community First that Monday, she’d already called in her resignation, leaving it on the voice mail for Brie to find.

I’d wanted to see her, of course, but I knew there was no point. There was nothing left to say and nothing left to analyze. All I had was disappointment to trudge through. I’d gotten my hopes up, and that had been a mistake. I’d chosen to see the best in someone and ended up wondering if the best had ever really been there, or if I had just imagined it because I wanted so desperately for it to exist.

It made no sense. I held on to the
idea
of a person, not the person who actually existed.

It was crazy, and I knew it, but all I could do was wait for the day when the insanity in my head would stop.

I turned away from the bricks and headed outside, into the sunny day. September was creeping around the corner, but in North Carolina that didn’t mean much. Apparently that month had never gotten the memo about it being a part of fall and not summer.

“I’ll check back in tomorrow,” I told Larry. “Call me if you need anything.”

“Will do.”

I took off the hard hat he’d loaned me and handed it to him before continuing on to my car. The list of what I could do for the rest of the afternoon started running through my head. The first food pantry had already closed for the day, but maybe I could go there and double check to make sure Ricardo had sorted all the boxes properly for tomorrow.

No. I’d done that. Right before I’d left the place an hour earlier.

I sighed and hooked my arm on the open window. It wasn’t even mid-afternoon yet and still the summer day stretched on in that way you loved when you were a kid, but hated when you were a jaded, heart-broken adult.

I pressed my fingers against my mouth and thought harder. There had to be something that needed to be done. Or
someone
I knew who needed my assistance.

Maybe I would go see Mr. Cooper. I’d visited him just a couple days ago, but the stop had proved to be more fulfilling for me than it had for him. The live-in facility had become the love of his life. Being around other people on a daily basis had brought back so much of his vitality it had been hard to even recognize him at first. When we’d visited, he’d gone on and on about the game nights and live music events within the home. His contented mood was no doubt aiding him in the healing of his hip. His doctor had proclaimed he would be able to soon ditch the wheelchair and start physical therapy.

I sighed and dropped my hand. Yes, I could go see Mr. Cooper. Though who knew if he was even available. Now that he was suddenly the social butterfly of Crystal Brook’s retired community, there was a good chance he was all booked up for the day.

I slowed down for the railroad crossing on the hill that peaked right before the turn off onto the highway. Glancing to my left, a waving canvas sign caught my eye.
Sale on Dogs!

I’d driven by the animal shelter numerous times but never given much thought to its presence. At that moment, I was struck by a feeling too strong to resist. Yanking the steering wheel to the left, I took the turn into the shelter’s parking lot at the last possible second.

Parking close to the front door, I hurried across the pavement and into the building. Maybe if I moved fast enough I wouldn’t question my intentions. After all, I couldn’t take care of a dog. I’d never
had
a dog.

Did I even
like
dogs?

They were cute, sure. And great company.

So that was it. I was just lonely… and not ready to hop on OKCupid any time soon.

“Hi,” the blonde woman at the front desk smiled at me, “can I help you?”

Her eyes traveled up and down my body before flicking back up to my face. She was checking me out. She was cute, sure. But the very idea of entertaining the thought of another woman in my life made me want to hurl.

No, I didn’t need a woman. I needed a dog. Case closed.

“I’d like to take a look at the dogs,” I told her.

“Ooh,” she cooed. “That’s wonderful. You can go right ahead and check them out. They’re right down at the end of the hallway.” She extended her arm in an exaggerated point. “Let me know if you need anything,” she added, batting her eyelashes.

“Thanks.” I nodded.

The kennel exploded with barking as soon as I stepped into it. Two long rows of pups stretched out along the walls. Each dog had its own metal room with a bed and food and water dishes. The set up looked better than being stuck in a tiny crate all day, but it still didn’t seem great. The whole thing kind of reminded me of an infirmary.

I walked slowly along the first row, gazing at the pit bulls and terrier mixes. There was a female black lab, but she was only twelve weeks old. As adorable as she was, I knew I couldn’t deal with a puppy. With running between two food pantries, I didn’t have time to house train an animal. I needed a pet who came semi-independent, one who was friendly and sociable, who I could take with me to work when need be or leave at home when that was easier.

I got to the end of the room and turned to start on the second row. Some of the spots were empty, but most were filled with mutts, Chihuahuas, and more pit bulls. Some of them jumped up and down, barking at me, and others lay on their beds dozing. Near the end of the row, there was one dog doing something completely different.

A German Shepard sat on its haunches looking out through the glass. As I came up to the animal, it tilted its head up and made eye contact with me.

I reached up and took the piece of paper hanging on a hook stuck to the front of the glass. According to the sheet, the dog was a three-year-old female named Junebug.

I smirked. “Junebug,” I whispered to myself. “How did you get here, girl?”

She cocked her head and looked up at me, as if trying to understand what I was saying.

I stuck my hands in my pockets and gazed down at her. Her dark eyes looked calmly and curiously back up at me. All around us the barks of the other dogs filled the space, but the spot where Junebug and I stood was quiet and calm.

An hour later, she was mine.

I drove down Highway 70, the windows wide open and Junebug sticking her head out of the passenger’s side. Her pink tongue flopped from the mouth holding the biggest grin in the universe. I reached over and rubbed her furry neck.

“Good girl, Junebug,” I told her. “Don’t stick your neck too far out.”

The only problem with getting a dog was I wasn’t prepared for its homecoming at all. Luckily, there was a shopping center right off the turn onto Crystal Brook’s main street. I pulled up in the grocery store parking lot, choosing a partially shaded spot underneath one of the little saplings.

Rolling the windows down enough so Junebug could stick her snout out to get some fresh air if she wanted, I climbed out of the car.

“Wait,” I told her through the open glass. She just smiled at me, perfectly calm. Apparently I had hit the jackpot in finding her. Supposing she didn’t escape from the car while I was in the grocery store and cause terror in the parking lot.

I moved as fast as I could, collecting a bag of dog food, not an easy feat when there were so many brands to choose from, and a bag of treats. Spur of the moment, I snatched up a ball and a tug toy, just in case Junebug turned out to be a playful dog. The store didn’t have any dog beds, so she would have to make due with an old blanket until I got the chance to get her one.

While checking out, I kept nervously glancing through the window at my SUV. I couldn’t see her at all. Hopefully, that meant she was laying down, and not either dead from heat exhaustion or panic over being abandoned.

That’s just what I need right now… to kill a dog on the very first day.

Done checking out, I booked it out to the car, fumbling in my pocket for my keys. A white truck had pulled up next to my SUV, and I edged between the vehicles to open the driver’s door. Junebug popped up from where she’d been laying with her head down on the seat. Her tail thumped against the door, and she eyed the bag of dog food.

“Good girl. Stay.”

“Aw, what a cute dog,” a voice behind me said.

I turned and saw a small red headed woman with a baby in her arms. The baby made a noise that sounded a lot like the word “doggy” and reached its hand in the direction of Junebug.

“Thanks,” I said. “I just got her.”

She shifted the baby to her other hip. “What’s her name?”

“Junebug. That’s what the shelter was calling her anyway.”

“I like it,” she smiled.

“Thanks. I’ll probably keep it.” I studied her face for a second, finding something about her oddly familiar. “Have we met before?”

She pursed her lips and studied me. “I don’t know… I don’t think so.”

“Hm. Maybe I’ve just seen you around.”

“Yeah.” She smiled again. “Do you work around here?”

“Kind of. I live near downtown, but I run a food pantry on the edge of town.”

Something like shock flashed across her face. “Oh.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Junebug step into the driver’s seat. Her nose nudged my shoulder, and I stepped in front of her. She seemed friendly enough, but I wasn’t entirely sure how she did with small children so it was probably best to keep her back.

When the woman spoke again, her words were slow. “Are you Luke Anderson?”

“Yeah. I am. So, we have met. I’m sorry. I usually have a good memory when it comes to names and faces.”

She shook her head. “We’ve never met in person.”

“We haven’t?”

“No. We’ve, uh, talked on the phone. I came into your pantry looking for help.”

“Ah.” I shut my mouth, feeling stupid. I should have guessed upon labeling her as familiar but unknown, that we’d crossed paths at the pantry. It was tacky of me to have let the conversation go so far that she had to point that out. Receiving aid was a sore topic, one people generally weren’t eager to talk about.

“I’m sorry,” I said. “I’m still a little confused. You said that we’ve only met over the phone. How did you recognize me?”