Chapter 14
Merry rested her elbows on the desk and plopped her chin in her hands. She stared at her laptop and wondered why the Faeries weren’t talking to her.
“C’mon girls, she murmured. “We’re on a strict deadline here.”
“We miss the golden-eyed creature,” Sunbloom said with a pout, and her sisters chorused their agreement.
“If that’s all you’ve got to say, then shut up,” Merry said.
“Who the heck are you talking to?” Holly asked from the guestroom doorway. She stared at Merry with a wistful smile and shook her head. “Are those faeries talking to you again? I’m not sure that’s normal.”
“It is for me.” Merry closed her laptop and swiveled to face Holly. “I can’t concentrate today.”
“Maybe it’s that apology from Nick Brubaker that’s gone viral.” Holly sat on the corner of the bed facing her sister. Behind her, sprawled on the mattress, Chula twitched and emitted a snore.
“My agent texted me about it, said it’s bound to sell more books.” Merry rolled her eyes. “I haven’t read it, and I’m not going to. I told you, I swore off social media. Besides, Nick Brubaker is a liar, and I don’t care what he has to say.”
“Did you ever read his last tweet? After you told him to go pound sand?”
“Nope. Don’t want to.” Merry pursed her lips.
“Well, it was surprisingly sweet and accommodating.”
“Whatever it is, he tweeted it weeks ago. It can’t possibly be relevant now,” Merry said, setting her hands, palms down, on her denim-clad thighs. “Anyway, it won’t change how I feel.”
Holly sighed and stood. “Well, you should at least read his apology. It’s respectful—even a little formal sounding—but it’s pretty clear you two had something going on,” she said. “I get the feeling you didn’t quite tell me everything, Mer.”
“Oh, great. So now the whole world knows I was stupid enough to be involved with him?” Merry threw her hands up. “Just like a man, to go kiss and tell. Now I’m even more certain he’s a jerk.”
“Didn’t I say his wording was respectful? Look, I understand why you’re angry, but the whole world knows he’s Scurvy Rickets now. And I think you should at least read what he has to say. Give the poor guy a chance. Deep down, you know you want to.”
Merry watched Holly leave the room. Hands shaking, she opened her laptop and tapped the keys. It wasn’t difficult to find the letter Nick had posted to all his social media sites:
An Open Letter to Ms. Merry Sunjoy:
Dear Ms. Sunjoy:
First, please accept my apology for the recent social media brawl dumped on you by my alter ego, Scurvy Rickets. At the time of Scurvy’s first snarky comment, I was under the impression that you understood there would be a back-and-forth. I have since learned that you did not know, nor did you approve. Please know that I regret any personal distress you may have suffered. I—and by extension, Scurvy Rickets—have only the utmost respect and appreciation for you and your work.
Second, I regret the way you discovered my nom de plume, although I tried to tell you another way. I was bound to silence by a contract with my publisher. This was recently revised at my request and the mystery of Scurvy Rickets’s identity brought to light. Consider me now an open book.
Third, you’ll find me where the moondrops dance on the water. It is my deepest hope to see you there. But whatever you decide, please know that the outcome will always and only be as you wish.
With sincere respect and affection,
Nick Brubaker
Merry re-read Nick’s apology. And read it again. And again. Two phrases attached themselves to her heart.
As you wish.
He had to know what that would mean to her when he wrote that.
I tried to tell you another way.
What other way? When? How?
Heart pounding, she opened a new tab and brought up her Twitter page. She hadn’t been on it since she’d told Scurvy Rickets to pound sand.
And there it was. She sucked in a quick breath.
Scurvy Rickets @scurvyrickets Dec 15 @merrysunjoy As you wish.
She hadn’t wanted to see the tweet, had let it sit unread for weeks. But now it was impossible to look away. Those words . . .
She forced herself to breathe.
Nick had written those words weeks ago. He’d posted it the day before she walked into that Naples bookstore and discovered his secret, the day before her heart split open and bled angry words and painful sorrow.
He had tried to tell her with that tweet the day before.
Had she read it, she would have known who he was before she walked into the bookstore. That tweet meant that he had trusted her with the information he was legally bound not to share. And more than that, he . . .
As you wish.
She sucked in a quick breath. Understanding washed over her, cleansed the debris of the past from her heart. Quick tears stabbed her eyes.
As you wish.
There were only two people in the whole world who knew what those words meant to her, only two who understood the depth of importance. One was herself. The other was Nick Brubaker.
As you wish.
Three little words that changed absolutely everything.
***
Nick strode across the lawn, waving to residents and staff on his way to where Ruth Canton sat enjoying the breezy day. She looked up when Nick approached, and her face crinkled in a smile.
“Well, this is a surprise! What are you doing here?” She tilted her face so he could kiss her cheek, and she caught his hands in her own. “I didn’t expect to see you again so soon.”
“One of the housekeepers at the Casa Blanca recommended a new restaurant here in Naples, and I thought you might like to join me for lunch today. What do you say? Can you clear your busy schedule?”
Ruth chuckled and squeezed Nick’s hands. “Twice in one week? You’re spoiling me, but I love it. A couple of my friends saw me leaving with you the other day and asked if you were my nephew or grandson. You should have seen their faces when I said, no, you were a young man who asked me out on a date.”
“You are date-worthy, Ruth,” Nick said, smiling.
“Well, not as much as I used to be, that’s for sure.” She squeezed his hands again and released them. “What happened with the grand gesture you told me about? Heard anything from the lovely Merry Sunjoy?” Nick shook his head, and Ruth frowned. “I’m sorry. Give her some time. I assume you’re willing to wait for her?”
“As long as it takes.”
“That’s the spirit. How are your plans coming for the big move? Have you had any success in the last couple of days finding a permanent place?”
“Not yet. There are plenty of choices here in Naples, but I really want to be out on the Key, and that’s a little harder. But the villa at the Casa Blanca is a comfortable place to stay while I look for a permanent residence, so I’m not worried about it. The right thing will come up.”
“It is a lovely place, and that’s a wonderful attitude. And you’re moving at the right time of year. We’re in season, now, and the weather is perfect, even with the snowbirds gumming up traffic.”
“You’ll see the traffic for yourself when we drive to lunch. You hungry?”
“Starving.”
“Me too. What do you say we leave right now?”
“Why, I say let’s ditch this joint, handsome,” she said, laughing.
***
Merry set Chula on the walkway leading to the villa. The little dog knew her way, and she trotted up the steps that brought Merry to Nick’s front door.
A slip of paper taped to the door rustled in the breeze.
Poppy, please use your master key to come in. I’m out this afternoon—hoping to snag another date with that lovely lady you met here the other day—but I appreciate your delivery of jerked chicken. I’m already looking forward to eating it for dinner. Thanks for everything - Nick.
Chula scratched at the door and let out a little woof. Merry ignored her and reread the note. She knew that Poppy was Poppy Washington, the Jamaican woman who worked as a housekeeper and who was responsible for the delightful jerked chicken Merry had enjoyed with Nick once before. But who was “that lovely lady?” Whoever she was, Nick had obviously brought her here to the villa at least once, and he was on a date with her this afternoon.
He’d posted that public apology on social media and then hadn’t even given Merry the time necessary to respond to it before he’d used his smooth moves on someone else.
Merry’s heart pounded against her breastbone like an anvil. Like some weird emotional virus, the ache spread from her chest to her extremities. Her knees quavered, and she lowered herself to sit on the villa steps. Chula sat beside her and rested her head on Merry’s thigh.
Merry had come back here at Nick’s request, certain she understood the meaning behind his words. But obviously, she was wrong. He wasn’t saying he loved her, he had simply used the words he knew would capture her attention, get the reaction he wanted.
As you wish.
But how else could he have meant those words? He knew the meaning she would take away. She had trusted him with how and why those words were important to her. Was he so uncaring that he’d forgotten? Or worse, had he used those specific words to play her again? And was she really so stupid she’d allowed herself to be taken in by him a second time?
Merry closed her eyes and breathed, “Oh, my god. I’m such a gullible fool.”
Chula climbed into her lap and licked her chin.
“You know what?” Merry said, stroking the dog. “You’re my silver lining in all of this. Yes, you,” she said when Chula’s pink tongue took another swipe at her jaw. “If it weren’t for Nick Brubaker, I wouldn’t have wanted to come back here so badly, and I never would have found you. You are my silver lining, and I’ll never be sorry about that.” Merry kissed the top of Chula’s head, set the little dog on the pavers, and snapped on the leash. “You’re worth all of this. Best silver lining ever.” She smiled through a blur of tears when Chula wagged her fluffy tail.
Merry dried her eyes and gave one last look at the note fluttering against the door with every whisper of the salty breeze. She lifted her chin and straightened her shoulders and spine.
“I am Merry Sunjoy,” she said aloud. “I am the author of the successful Foundling Faeries series. You, Nick Brubaker, are not the only wordsmith on the planet, and the next time I see you, you’ll be the recipient of a few choice words of my own. Hope you enjoy your damn date. C’mon Chula. Let’s get out of here.”
Merry put her back to the villa and strode away.