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Barf. I really hoped that was all my parents did in that theater. Otherwise, I’d bulldoze it immediately.
“That’s nice, Mom, but I can’t get sentimental. It’s just business. I’m building something for the future.”
“The future. You’re not even married. No kids. Who are you building this future for?” she asked, indirectly complaining about the fact that I hadn’t given her grandkids yet. But this was the first time I didn’t immediately deflect her gripe. She had a point. Who was I building a future for?
I was doing it for her and Dad, most of all. For the three of us, as recompense for what we’d endured.
But…then what? What if my mother didn’t want what I was planning on giving her? What if she really did care about a moldy old theater?
So who was I doing this for, really? The good residents of New Elwood? I didn’t think so. For me? I’d only enjoy the financial gain of my investments for another forty years, sixty at best if modern medicine could crack the longevity code.
Discomfort churned in my gut. But if I lost my nerve now, I’d never close this deal. I had to get the approval, sign the contract with Sinclair, give one fat check to Hamilton Bach, and erase New Elwood from my memory.
At that moment, the only thing I knew for sure was that this wasn’t the time to argue with my mother. The water had started to heat up when I turned it off; there was steam coming from the bathroom, and I only had about ten minutes before the water turned cold again.
“I got to run, Mom. Thanks for checking in.”
In the morning, I stopped by Magnolia Café the same way I had every morning since I first discovered it. Sophie at the register had seen me enough times that she’d asked if I wanted the usual. Of course I did. Those damn scones were addicting and her freshly brewed coffee was perfect.
There was something comforting about having a “usual.” I liked walking in here and smiling at the staff, knowing they knew me and would take care of me the way they always did.
Sophie smiled at me. “You and Charlie still at each other’s throats, or has she softened up at all?”
I blinked. “You know her?” What was I asking? Everyone knew everyone in New Elwood.
“Sure do. She’s a sweetheart,” Sophie said, and my throat tightened. Did she say sweetheart or sweetheart, my little nickname that Charlie loved to hate? Did Sophie know about us? And by us I meant our living situation, work competition, the unrelenting sexual tension? Was that why Sophie always gave me that look when I walked in here? Shit. Was any place in the town safe?
Or was I just paranoid because I’d jerked off to the thought of Charlie, and now I couldn’t go two minutes without thinking about how it would feel to have the real thing?
“She hasn’t been too sweet with me,” I told her.
Sophie flashed me a rueful smile. “She’s loyal to the bone, and unfortunately, your plans are a direct attack on New Elwood.” Sophie handed me the warmed scone in a brown paper bag and my usual coffee.
“Calling it an attack is a little harsh. I’m trying to help the town survive.”
“Uh-huh.”
“I am.”
Sophie tilted her head. She was much friendlier than Charlie, but she had a little glint in her eye like she could see right through me. “Charlie’s a good friend, is all,” she finally said.
I nodded. “You know what Charlie usually drinks?”
That glint in her eyes flashed again, and I wondered if her whole sweet-as-pie thing was just an act. “Why?”
“Might as well save her a trip and get her one,” I answered, shrugging.
Sophie popped a brow. “Uh-huh. Vanilla cappuccino.”
“I’ll have one of them as well, then.”
“Coming right up.”
I ate my scone while I waited, then thanked Sophie for the second drink once it was ready and headed out on my way.
I got to the theater early and waited outside with two coffees in hand. It wasn’t long before Charlie arrived in a pair of worn jeans and a tight green T-shirt with her hair swept up in a high ruby bun. “Who’s the worm today?” I joked.
“You’re always the worm, Anderson. And since it seems you missed the memo, that’s not a compliment.”
