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“I believe you. Can you believe in me?” he pleaded to know.
Calista blinked and thought, making Tristan’s heart skip several beats. “I want to,” she admitted.
“That’s a start.”
CALISTA
“STELLA, OPEN THE DOOR,” I shouted above her wailing. Tristan had taken Quinn Christmas shopping in town so I could deal with the aftermath of the Skippy breakup. Stella didn’t know Tristan and I played a part in it. Believe me, she was going to, and I was going to talk some sense into her. I just hoped the authorities had nabbed the thief. Like a good citizen, I’d left an anonymous tip saying I’d spotted him, giving them his license plate number and a description of his car. Tristan and I had covertly followed him out of town to make sure the bozo actually left and to find out which direction he was headed.
Tristan was turning into a regular James Bond. And oh, baby, did I want to shake and stir him. I tentatively agreed to the proper date night. I wanted to talk to Deidra first. Tristan was right. I never backed down from a fight, but Deidra deserved to have the choice of jumping in the ring or not. And, I needed to prepare myself for going several rounds with the Grangers and this town. Oh, Quinn was going to flip if it ended up working out. But first, I needed to deal with Stella.
“Go away,” Stella yelled back.
“I’ll pick this lock if I have to.” She knew I had the skills.
“Please, Calista, just leave me alone,” she begged, her voice trembling.
No can do. “Stella, I know Skip broke up with you, and I know he’s a lying scumbag.” I made sure he’d told her he was a swindler in his text. He didn’t want to, but we threatened to call the police right then if he didn’t. I’d never seen anyone text, or pack their bags, as fast as Skippy had.
Stella whipped open the door. Her cheeks and eyes were wet and red. “How do you know?”
I pushed my hand against the door so she couldn’t close it on me. I was stronger than she was. “Because I made him.”
Her jaw dropped before she spluttered; then came the angry contorted face. “Why would you do that to me?” she screamed.
“Because I love you and you’re a hot mess right now. And someone has to save you from yourself.”
She tried to shut the door on me, but I pushed myself the rest of the way into her light and airy room, which was an apartment unto itself with a sitting area and fireplace. Not to mention her enormous bathroom.
Stella ran from me, crawled into her bed, and hid under the covers like a child.
Fine with me. I was tired, so I crawled right in with her.
“Leave me alone. You’ve done enough to humiliate me today.”
In the dim light under the pillowy comforter, I reached over and smoothed her tear-stained cheek. Being under the covers reminded me of times when I was a little girl. Stella and I always shared a room, and anytime I had a bad dream or was afraid of the dark, I would crawl into bed with her. She always comforted me, or would make me giggle so loud our parents would come in and tell us to go back to sleep. I wanted to do that for Stella now—comfort her. Maybe even bring some humor back into her life.
“Stella, I didn’t do any of this to humiliate you. I’m worried about you and Quinn. Do you realize what this guy could have done to you, to your daughter?” Thankfully, Stella had only given him a small “business” loan of $5,000. At least that’s all he’d confessed to. Who knew how much he would have stolen from her? Apparently, he’d convinced her that together they would start their own fitness channel on YouTube and become huge sensations.
She squeezed her eyes shut and sobbed.
I drew her to me and held her like a child while she wailed and shook. All I could do was stroke her hair and let her get it out of her system. Once her cries became shudders, I asked, “How did you even get involved with Skip?”
“You’re going to think I’m stupid,” she whined.
“I already do.” No need to lessen the blow.
“I get it. I’m not smart like you.” She tried to pull away, but I wouldn’t let her.
“This has nothing to do with any of my degrees. You can’t put this on anyone but yourself right now. I’m not saying that you’re not hurting, and that Jonathon didn’t mess with your head, but you need to own this and then together we’re going to fix it.”
She stopped fighting me and nestled back into my chest. “I know I’ve made a mess of everything. I’m a mess.”
“We can clean up the mess,” I promised. “Just tell me what’s going on and how you got involved with that loser.”
She thought for a moment and sniffled a few more times. “I saw some of his workout videos on social media several months ago. And I’m a sucker for an Australian accent, so I private messaged him and he responded.”
“He’s not really from Australia,” I informed her. “He’s from North Dakota.”
