Chapter 12

Dawn

Rory walked through the door at 8 p.m. exactly, jazzed up and smiling like he was on top of the world, which I guess as a billionaire, he probably was. He was so hot I had to check my smile. I didn’t want him to think I was a pushover, but damn, the way he looked at me did things to my insides that made me all jittery and nervous.

"Feeling better?" he asked.

I nodded. I was touched by the food he sent over. "Thanks for feeding me today, even if you did have ulterior motives."

"Me?"

"You." I rolled my eyes. "I'll be right with you." I made sure he waited patiently in the front while I walked over to the back door and let in the cat. I opened a can of food and made sure she had enough crunchies and water. Her litter box was pristine, so there shouldn't be any accidents. I dabbed on her monthly dose of flea and tick protection, and the baleful look she gave me should have withered me on the spot.

"It's for your own good," I said, tossing her catnip mouse in her direction.

Grabbing my overnight bag, I closed her in the back room. I hoped she be okay all by herself, but I didn't want to leave her out all night, and I didn't want to risk leaving a radio on that someone might hear and investigate.

"Are we good to go?" I said. I was wearing a frothy little dress that would blow off in a strong breeze. I wasn't planning on having it on very long.

"Yeah," Rory said, taking my hand.

Why was I so fucking nervous? It wouldn't be our first time, although it was the first time after declaring ourselves a couple—at least for the summer.

Maybe because my last relationship ended in the shitter. No, wait. That was all of my relationships. The key was not to care anymore. But it was hard when he did romantic things like sending me panties and buying me breakfast and lunch when he knew I wasn’t feeling well.

Just for the summer. I had to keep telling myself that. Rory Parker would never be mine to keep. But I didn’t mind renting him for a while.

"Did you bring everything?" he asked, eyeballing my overnight bag.

I smirked. "If by everything you mean if I brought the harness. Yes. Whether I let you use it on me or not depends on you."

His smile hit all my erogenous zones as we left the shop. I was hoping that a nice dinner and some drinks would lull me into that place where I could feel comfortable giving him control of my orgasms. He certainly was doing a good job so far.

"So why are you so happy today?" I asked. My hangover had long since faded, but I was still feeling tired and irritable. I was waiting for something to go wrong. This seemed too perfect.

"Isn't it enough that I'm seeing you?"

I gave him a look that should have been obvious that I knew he was up to something.

"All right," he said. "I closed another deal today."

"How nice for you," I said, trying not to tense up and let this ruin the first real date I’d had in a long time. "Another one bites the dust."

"Hey." He rubbed a circle on my back. "It's not like that. I'm relocating the knitter to a bigger store."

"You charmed Mrs. O'Toole out of her granny panties?"

Rory shuddered. "No, she saw a good deal and she took it."

Crossing my arms, I glared at him. "You took advantage of an old lady." That was low even for him.

"I did not. Look, get in and let me show you her new shop."

"I thought you had this big dinner planned."

"I do, but it'll keep. Come on. It's a nice night for a ride."

I couldn't argue with him about that. I let him hand me into the convertible and I tossed my overnight bag into the backseat. Soon we were whizzing down the highway. Rory put on a classic rock station, and even though it wasn't my jam, I felt the stress leave me. We didn't talk much, but he reached over to hold my hand. I thought that was ridiculous. We weren't high school kids, but I didn't take my hand away. There was something to be said about the human connection—even if I wasn't 100 percent sure Rory knew how to be a human. He was too much of a salesman. He stroked his thumb over my knuckles, though, and it made me smile. I had expected desire. I didn’t expect the little flutters in my stomach.

After about a half hour of driving, Rory turned off the highway into a business park and sped up a hill. He parked the car in front of ten identical shops, each trimmed in white with a large bay window. I was less than impressed.

"Come on," he said, turning off the car. Jingling a large set of keys, he went to the sixth door and opened it up.

"It looks just like her old shop." I did a double take. Except for the merchandise, it was set up just like the Knautical Knitter.

"It's better."

Rory listed a bunch of stuff that I stopped listening to. I wandered around the empty store, trying to picture Mrs. O'Toole in her rocking chair. But instead of seeing Haven's bustling town center, she'd be looking into a parking lot. Trailing my fingers over the shelves, I wondered if her Tuesday night stitch-and-bitch group would make the trip up. Or if the extra half hour would be too much of an ass ache for them to bother.

"Dawn?" Rory asked. “What do you think?”

"It's a little remote," I said. I didn’t want to hurt his feelings, but it was also very generic, and the emptiness was getting to me. I noticed that while there was a back room, it was too small to house a woman and her cat. Luckily, Mrs. O’Toole had her own house and a man to share it with her as well. I didn’t think they were married. She was tickled that they were “living in sin.” I was going to miss her.

"It's right off the highway. The reason you don't see the traffic is because it's after eight. This place is hopping during the day and on the weekend."

I took his word for it. After all, he was the expert on this nonsense. What did that leave now? Just me, the pizza place, and Zeke’s cigar shop. He was going to have a riot on his hands if he hustled Zeke out the door. Oh, and what did Jeannine say about turning the pizza crust into tofu? I frowned as I tried to remember what she said.

"The rent is the same as what Mrs. O’Toole was paying in Haven. I got her a guaranteed lock for the time remaining on her old lease."

I blinked up at him. "Then what?"

"What do you mean?"

"What is she going to do if the rent rises? She’s a little old lady on a fixed income." That might have been stretching the truth a bit, but it was obvious from his stunned expression that he hadn’t even thought of it.

Just like when summer was over, he would leave me without a second glance good-bye.

Rory jingled his keys and looked uncomfortable. "The same thing that would have happened if she stayed in Haven. She'd never be able to afford the new rental rates once her lease was up."

The silence between us was charged. In other words, I wouldn't be able to afford Haven rates either. Of course, I knew that. I also knew that unlike a sweet knitting shop, there would be no offer for a bookstore that sold questionable items about sexuality.

"I want to show you something." He held out his hand and grinned at me.

I let him lead me out of the store and into the next one.

"What do you think?"

It was larger than my existing store, and so empty that our footsteps echoed. It resembled the other store, except the shelves were different.

"It's a blank slate. You can decorate it anyway you want."

"Rory," I groaned, hanging my head. It was cold and lifeless. I couldn’t imagine myself setting up shop here. First, it was too far away from the ocean. I needed to be near the water. Second, my cat and all my customers were a half hour away. They wouldn’t make the effort to come and see me. And while I probably would find new customers, it would be like starting over. Which, I’m pretty sure I made clear to him, I wasn’t ready to do yet.

"Five years, same rent as Haven,” Rory talked fast, as if he was afraid I’d cut him off. “I'll pay for moving and relocation, if you're out by the end of June. I'll buy out your current lease and you start fresh with one hundred and twenty-five thousand dollars."

I could afford an apartment with that offer. I could probably even get one that would let me keep the cat. I would have to do it in five years anyway, and there was no guarantee that I'd get a better deal. But then I thought of Millie. She didn't have reliable transportation. She wouldn't come up all this way to see me. There was no way Chelsea's husband would allow her to go so far away at night. I thought of my shop that I built up when everyone expected me to fail. I would not go gently into that good night.

Taking a deep breath, I let out a huge sigh. "This was a bad idea."

Rory held his hands up in surrender. "It's just a suggestion."

It was such a suggestion that he put off our date night to try and sell me a shop. He put sex down the list for this. That should tell me where I rated with him. I was so stupid. Rory was schmoozing me and I fell for it. What an idiot. I went to the car as he was locking up. I got my overnight bag out of the backseat and started walking.

"Dawn! Wait!" Rory came running after me. “Where are you going?”

I glared at the empty parking lot and the street. I'd have to walk a good way in these stupid sandals to get to civilization or I'd be stranded here until Uber got here.

"Just forget it, Rory. This was a mistake."

"I'm not trying to pressure you," he said.

"How can you even say that with a straight face?" I asked. There was going to be no waiting around for Uber. I started walking in the direction of the highway. Fuck it. I'd hitchhike.

"I just want what's best for you."

"No, you want what's best for you. Don't sugarcoat it." The ground was hard and unforgiving on my thin-soled sandals. I had been expecting to be pampered on a yacht tonight. Instead, I got another half-assed sales proposition. I was pissed because of the missed sex. My feelings weren't hurt. It was just knee-jerk reaction and the stupid sand blowing around that was making me blink back tears.

"It doesn't make any sense why you're being so stubborn," he said.

"Funny, I was thinking the same thing about you." I wouldn't look at him as he walked by me.

"I have a lot of money riding on this. You don't."

I was so close to shoving him into a ditch and stealing his car that my fingers twitched. It was only the thought that if I got busted for grand theft auto it would make his job a whole lot easier.

"Rory, I told you in my emails I didn't want to sell. Several times. I've told you in person I didn't want to sell. Also several times. You need to accept the fact that I don't want to sell."

"I'm accepting the fact you don't like this place."

"That's big of you," I muttered, stepping over a large puddle.

"Let me get the car and we can go to the yacht."

Arching an eyebrow, I looked over at him. "Do you still think you're getting laid tonight?"

He smiled. "I think once we calm down and have a nice dinner and drinks, we can still have a fun evening. I like you, Dawn."

I stopped and turned to him. "I don't like you. You've got a hard dick and know how to use it." I shrugged. "The money is okay too, I suppose. But every time I let my guard down where I think we could just enjoy each other, you remind me that you're the enemy."

It was getting dark and I saw headlights approaching.

"I'm not your enemy. I'm just trying to find a win-win situation for all of us."

I jabbed my thumb out. Rory grabbed my hand.

"Stop that," he said. "That's not safe."

"Go to hell." I pulled away and almost fell.

The lights came closer and I saw it was a pickup truck. Waving my hands over my head, I attempted to flag it down.

"Stop. Jesus. Look, I'll drive you home. Please."

"I'm done talking tonight."

“Dawn, I mean it. I’ll take you wherever you want to go and leave you alone. I can’t let you get into a strange car and drive away.”

“You don’t get to let me do anything.”

The pickup slowed, as Rory could only hold one of my hands down. It stopped alongside us and parked. The passenger's-side window slid down and a bearded man leaned over. "There a problem?"

"Can you give me a ride to the train station?" I asked.

"She's fine. Move along, Buddy," Rory said.

"Get in," the driver said, opening the door.

Rory pulled me back.

"Son, you're going to want to let her go or things are going to get ugly."

"Look, I get you're a Good Samaritan, but I'm not letting my girl get in a car with a stranger. You could be an ax murderer for all we know."

I pried his fingers off my elbow. "You don't get a choice."

“I’m a software engineer,” he said.

“I didn’t ask for your résumé,” Rory snarled.

Climbing into the truck, I was scooted over when Rory came with me. He slammed the door.

"Uh, fella, you need to get the hell out," the driver said.

"Nope. Drive us to the train station. Hell, drive us to the police station. She's my responsibility."

"I'm not your damn anything," I said. And I hated that it hurt so much I wasn’t.

"You know what?" the driver said. "Both of you get the hell out of my truck."

"Gladly." Rory had my arm in a death grip when he opened the door and hauled me out of the truck. We nearly got our toes trampled when the truck spun its wheels as it took off.

"Let go of me or I'll punch you in the nuts," I said, seething.

He opened his hand. I continued to walk down the road.

"Dawn, please. I'm sorry. Get back in the car and I'll drive you home."

I couldn't do that. I didn't have a home. But I didn't want to walk miles in these shoes either. I tilted my head back and screamed. Then I turned around. "Why are you such an asshole?"

"Heredity?" he said.

I wasn't going to smile at him. I sighed and plodded back to the car. "You say one word about real estate and I will knock your ass out and stuff you in the trunk."

"Fair enough." He held up his hands in surrender. "I didn't meant for this to happen."

I nodded. I knew that. He was just doing his job. He didn't know that I would wig out. I closed my eyes. There had to be a way I could make him understand how I felt. "Rory, Tantric Books means a lot to me and my customers."

"Of course it does." He put his hand on my arm.

I flipped it off. "Shut up. Just shut up and listen."

Rory nodded.

"I wanted to be a lawyer, but my father said I wasn't smart enough."

He opened his mouth, and I held up my hand. "It's my turn to talk." We had reached the car. Opening the door, I slid in but I kept my overnight bag on my lap. I needed something to hold on to. "He refused to pay for law school, and I didn't know the first thing about getting myself scholarships or loans. So I went along with his choices so he would pay for my degree. Big fucking mistake. If I knew then what I know now . . .” My voice trailed off as I looked out the window. I gave a humorless laugh. “Let’s just say a lot of things would be different.” I sighed. “Anyway, along the way, I found I liked women's studies and psychology, and I thought maybe I would work in social services."

Rory started the car, but I barely noticed. I was still lost in that world. "Like law school, he wouldn't pay for medical school either. I got my paralegal certificate just to piss him off my freshman year to show him I could." I shook my head. "Joke’s on me. Guess how I spent my summer vacations in college? Unpaid intern in his law practice. That kind of soured me on the law. Then, after college was over and I didn't look the part of a corporate drone, he threw me out on my own." I shrugged. "I was an adult. I'm not sure what he was expecting. That I'd come back begging after a few months, but I didn't. I scrimped and saved and got a store in Haven. Of course, back then the property values were in the toilet. But I made it work. I built Tantric Books from scratch. I made a lot of mistakes and I'm still learning. But it's a haven for people like me who need someone or something to tell them that they are worth something."

Rory's hand clutched mine. "You are worth something, and I hate that your father has made you think that you are less than beautiful and brilliant."

Tears slid down my cheeks and I was grateful for the darkness. I took a shuddering breath. "So when you tell me that my store isn't good enough, I hear that you don't think I'm good enough."

It was like a silence bomb went off in the car, taking all the air with it.

"Fuck," he whispered. "No. Just no."

"Yes, Rory. Tantric Books doesn't fit into your new plaza, just like I don't fit into your life. Which is why this summer fling is doomed from the start."

"I don't care," he said. "You matter."

"I'm a financial line in your ledger. You keep forgetting that."

I was crying full on now. I have no idea what my problem was, but at least I was a silent crier. I snatched my hand back to dig into my purse for a tissue and turned away from him so he couldn’t see my tears.

"Can I talk about real estate without you jumping me?"

"Sure," I squeaked out.

"The store is burning you out. You need more income to hire a staff and you need better products sold at a higher margin to do more than tread water like you're doing now."

"Not making me feel any better." I hiccupped.

"If you want to stay in Haven, your store has to undergo huge renovations. If you want to keep your store as it is, you need to move to another location."

"Or I can take door number three and stay as I am."

"You're stagnant. And you know that. Staying where you are, as you are, is only hurting you."

I leaned my head against the window. Part of not having family around is no one told you hard truths.

"In five years from now, do you want to be in this same position?"

I shook my head, but realized in the darkness he might not have seen it. "No," I whispered. I didn't want to be homeless. I didn't want to be afraid to take a day off. I wanted a life.

“You want to help those women who come to you, like Millie and Cammy?”

Nodding, I peeked under my lashes at him. What angle was this? And why was he making sense?

“Then you owe it to them to take Tantric Books to the next level.”

“What do you mean?”

“Only you can tell me that. I’ve got suggestions and ideas, of course.”

I smirked despite myself. “Of course.”

"Then let me help. I want you to succeed, whether it’s in Haven or in another store. You’re so used to bucking the system it’s your default setting.” He held up his hand when I would have interrupted. “And I can see why that is. With me in your corner, though, I can protect you from the board of selectmen and your landlord.”

“I don’t need a fucking white knight on a horse, Rory.”

“No. You can slay those dragons yourself. What you need is someone who believes in you like I do.”

I hoped that noise I just made sounded more like a snort than a sob. “You’ve only known me a few weeks.”

“We’ve had months of emails to get to know each other. It’s all been leading up to this. If you want to stay in Haven, we need to change the store enough that it remains true to your vision and purpose, while being up to the new standards."

"I'm not good at fitting in."

"Who said anything about fitting in? You need to up your game. I want to get you there, not only because it looks good for me but because I want you to succeed. This can be a win-win situation."

"Can we not talk about this anymore?" My head was throbbing.

"Sure. Do you want me to take you home? You're still living on Park Street, right?"

Everything in me froze. "How do you know where I live?" Lived. That was the apartment I used to share with Jack before the shit hit the fan.

"I told you. I saw your credit report."

I let out a slow breath. It was as shaky as I felt. "No. I moved out after Jack left with the band." That worked. Stay as close to the truth as possible. "The lease was in both our names and I didn't want him to come back at the end of the summer as if nothing happened."

Rory grunted in agreement. But he was waiting for me to give him an address. Possibilities flew through my mind. I could lie and make up an address, but what if he wanted to come in for coffee? I could tell him to drop me off at Jeannine's or my sister's. A hysterical thought bubbled up. We could pay my parents a visit, make it a banner fucking evening. Or I could take him back to Tantric Books and tell him the truth.

No. I couldn't trust him. He talked pretty, and I was beginning to think he was a better ally than an enemy. But I didn't dare show him all my cards.

"Dawn?" he asked with a gentle hand on my knee.

"Let's go back to the yacht. You still owe me dinner."

His head whipped to me in shock. "Your mood swings are like a carnival ride."

"You're probably not getting laid," I lied. He probably was. I was too practical to give up a soft bed and a few orgasms.

"I am sorry I hurt you. I only want to help."

"Then change the subject." I didn't want to talk about the store or my pathetic life anymore.

"Did you know Mrs. O'Toole rides a motorcycle?"

"What?" A surprised giggle escaped my lips at the image.

"Fucking speed demon."