Chapter 24
Joshua
I stepped out of the office in Cowboys n’ Cuts with Faith breathing down my neck and right behind me. We moved out into the center of the restaurant, which was quiet, with only one customer in the corner, eating pancakes drowned in syrup, made by Bob the chef.
“I – ” Faith started.
I held up a hand. “If it’s an apology, I don’t want to hear it. We’ve already discussed everything we needed to, Faith.”
“I wasn’t going to apologize,” she said, and colored bright red. “I wouldn’t.”
“Of course, you wouldn’t.”
“I stand by everything I’ve done and said. If I don’t have my word, what else do I have?” She folded her skinny arms across her chest.
“Just bitterness,” I replied, because that was all she’d amounted to: schemes and bitterness.
“I did what I had to do.”
“I wonder if your father would agree with that sentiment.” I didn’t smirk at her, I didn’t take pleasure in any of this, but a part of me wanted to know why she’d done this. Why she’d gone the extra mile to ruin everything for Eve. Why she hated her so much.
I doubted she would’ve had the same reaction to another woman. She might’ve interfered, sure, but would she have been this hell bent on destroying everything?
“What is it about her?” I asked, at last. I didn’t have anything to lose now. “What is it about Eve that drove you crazy like this?”
“Nothing. She’s nothing,” Faith said, for what had to be the twentieth time in as many minutes. “She’s –” She looked down at herself.
“The opposite of you,” I said. “In every way.”
Faith wanted money. She was attached to it, prepared to scheme to get it and me for that end, without any prospects or a desire to work hard.
Eve was happy to run from me and money. To work hard in a restaurant and to dream big of owning her own one day.
Opposites. Perfect opposites. No wonder Faith turned my stomach. She was the anti-Eve.
My phone rang before I could point it out. I drew it out of the pocket of my jeans and frowned at the number on the screen. “Hello?” I turned my back to the restaurant’s door.
Faith hovered nearby, waiting for me to give her a final farewell? I wasn’t sure.
“Joshua?”
“Cassidy?”
“Hold on a second, Charlie’s screaming something,” she said, followed by a muffled shout, and then footsteps. “What is it? What? No, honey. No, she’s not coming back until later.”
“Hello?” I muttered, glancing sideways at Faith.
She arched an eyebrow at me, the uncertainty from a couple minutes ago scoured clean by her usual arrogance.
“Hello?” I repeated, on the brink of hanging up. I was kind of in the middle of something here.
“Hello!” Cassidy yelled. “Christ, yes, I’m here. Sorry, I’ve got a sick kid moaning from her bedroom and the kettle’s boiling, and there’s someone at the door. Who the hell –? Never mind, it’s not important. Here’s what’s important. Eve’s leaving.”
“What?!” I clenched my fist. No, not when I was this close. Not when I’d jumped through hoops to make this right, at last. “When? Where is she going?”
“I don’t know. She hasn’t got it planned out yet. She just came by to say goodbye to us. She’s leaving, Joshua. I just – I thought you ought to know,” she said, and sighed. “God, she’ll kill me if she finds out I told you. I suppose it doesn’t matter anymore, since she’s gone.”
“She’s already gone?”
“No, not yet,” Cassidy said. “She’s on her way to collect her last paycheck from Faith, and then she’s going. You’ve got to intercept her if you really care about her. I know you do, Joshua.”
“Intercept –”
The front door of the restaurant slammed, and Faith jumped and let out a tiny squeal, then turned to glare hatred and fire at the source of the commotion.
“Joshua?” Cassie asked. “You there?”
“Come down to the restaurant,” I said. “As quick as you can.”
“Are you serious? Mama’s here. I guess I could come.”
“Quickly.”
I turned and came face-to-face with Eve. She took my breath away. I lowered the phone from my ear, hung up without even thinking about it, and slipped the device into my pocket.
God, after the last time I’d seen her, this was like rain in the desert. I drank up every drop of her.
Hair pulled back in ponytail atop her head, messy tendrils escaping to frame her oval face. She didn’t have any makeup on, and wore a loose pink t-shirt, and a pair of worn jeans. Moving clothes.
I looked past her at the truck parked outside, and tensed at the sight of the loaded back – boxes packed neatly, jostling up against the sides.
“What are you doing here?” Eve asked, and I focused on her again. “What is this? Some last-ditch attempt to rub the fact that you won in my face?” She wasn’t talking to me, but to Faith.
“That’s not what this is about,” I said.
Faith smirked, loving every minute of this. Of course, she did. Until a minute ago, she’d been convinced that I’d get what I wanted, or that Eve’s dreams would come true, and that in turn made her feel like a cockroach.
“I don’t have anything to say to you,” Eve directed that at me, but the anger was tinged with sorrow. “I don’t.” She sucked in a breath. “Except one thing. I said things I shouldn’t have said to you and I’m sorry about that.”
“Eve –”
“But,” she said, and lifted her palm, facing it toward me, “that doesn’t give you the right to talk to me.”
“You’re leaving,” I said.
“Good riddance,” Faith muttered.
“Stay out of this.” I glared at her and she backed off, then finally turned on her heel and stomped off back to her office. She slapped the door shut behind her, but it couldn’t stay closed for long.
The guy in the corner, who’d been mid-pancake bite, flinched at the slammed door, and a glob of syrup gooped onto his plate.
Eve blinked at the office door. “Shit,” she uttered.
“What is it?”
“I came to quit and get my last paycheck,” she said. “Guess that’s gone out the window. But you know what? That’s fine. I wanted to be professional, but it’s clear Faith doesn’t give a crap about this place anyway. She won’t miss me.”
“The paycheck?”
“I’ll figure something out,” she said, and then jerked around as if she’d just realized it was me she’d spoken to. “I’m done. Leave me alone. Goodbye, Joshua.”
“Eve, wait.”
She banged out into the morning sunshine and fumbled keys out of her pocket.
I couldn’t afford to hesitate this time. No matter how much I wanted to retain my privacy and remain the elusive Hope Creek recluse. I chased her out into the parking lot, keenly aware of the watching eyes from the gas station just across the street.
There wasn’t a storm to save me from folks overhearing.
“Wait,” I said. “Eve, wait.”
“For what?” she asked, and unlocked her car door. She swung it open and put her foot up. “I’ve got to hit the road. I’m done.”
“Stop saying that.” I caught her wrist on the door and held it there.
“Or what?”
“I don’t want you to leave,” I said.
“Yeah? Well, this isn’t about what you want,” she snapped.
“It’s not about what you want either.” My voice rose, and heads whipped around in the lot across the street. “Because if it was about what you wanted, you wouldn’t be doing this either.”
“Excuse me?” Oh, boy, that had gotten her back up. “Jesus, you just can’t let it go, can you?”
“You, no.”
“I told you I was sorry for saying what I said to you, and that I need to leave and you just –”
I tightened my grip on her wrist, not painfully, just so that she’d know I was there, that I wanted her to stay. She hadn’t told me to let go yet. That meant something. “You don’t want to leave me, Eve.”
“How the hell would you know what I want?” She leaped down from the cab and slammed the door shut behind her.
I finally let go of her arm and looked down at her, beautiful now, even in her fury. “You want to be with me.”
“You’re so god damned sure about that,” she said. “You don’t know me. You don’t know a damn thing about me. You probably don’t even know the town I was born in, or my mother’s maiden name, or the kind of relationship I had with her growing up. Or what I really want out of life.” Eve took a breath. “You don’t know me.”
“I know who you are,” I said, and caught her wrists.
This time, she worried them under my grip. “No.”
“I know who you are. I know who you are inside. I know the type of woman you are. I know you’re ambitious, and strong, that you’re protective of your friends. That you care for people. That you see the best in them.”
“No,” she said, and tears sprang to her eyes. “Stop talking. No.”
“I know that he hurt you bad. I know that he hurt you so bad you don’t want to believe it won’t happen again,” I said, and held her fast. I had to break this out of her piece by piece, make her see who she really was. That she deserved this as much as I did. “It won’t happen again, Eve.”
“You don’t know that,” she said, and struggled on. “You don’t know that.”
“Why would it happen again? Why would anyone hurt you again?”
“Because I don’t deserve this. I don’t deserve someone like you, and I can’t stand being here and pretending I do for a second longer,” she said, and the tears came thick and fast. She was hoarse.
I drew her into a tight hug and tucked her head against my chest. “I’ll never hurt you. You have to believe that. I’d never do anything to hurt you.”
“Being near you is hurting me,” she whispered. “It hurt everyone around me. Cassidy lost her job. I have to leave. I – no, this can’t happen. I’m sorry. I want to believe that we could be something but it’s not feasible.” Eve pushed back and stepped out of the embrace, shaking her head.
She didn’t know things had changed yet. She didn’t realize the lengths I would go to make sure that she stayed here in Hope Creek, with me. It was time to make her realize.
“Eve, can you give me five minutes of your time?”
“What?”
“Give me five minutes to prove that we’re meant to be together, that you’re meant to stay here in Hope Creek.”
“I –” The doubt coalesced. She wavered on the spot. “I guess.”
“Thank you,” I said, then marched back to the restaurant’s door and opened it. “Faith, could you come outside for a second? Bring them with you.”
“Them?” Eve’s jaw dropped. “Joshua –”
“Just trust me on this one,” I said, and waited for my college ex-girlfriend to exit the office and make her way out into the sunlight to stand in front of the woman she despised, and the one I loved.
This was the moment I’d waited for.