Chapter 19
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I pull into the parking lot of Piggly Wiggly, desperate to refill my fridge with food after Logan cleared it out for me while I was gone so nothing spoiled. I’m not really excited about small-town grocery shopping today, but I refuse to let the chance of running into anyone nasty get between me and food.
I grab a cart from the parking lot and push it through the automatic doors. As soon as I’m inside, I realize I misjudged my timing. I figured late afternoon on a Monday would be dead, but Piggly Wiggly is as busy as I’ve ever seen it. Apparently, a lot of the people in this town are already out of work at ten after four.
I make my trip quick, pushing around the perimeter and up a few aisles before making my way to the liquor section. Unfortunately, as soon as I turn the corner, I spot one of the ladies who I tangled with right after I got to Gold Haven. At least this time, that bitch Tricia isn’t with her. The brunette grabs a bottle of cheap vodka, and I park my cart right in front of hers and reach for the good stuff on the top shelf.
I don’t say a single word to her or even make eye contact, but that doesn’t stop her from running her mouth as soon as the bottle touches my cart.
“You just have to rub it in, don’t you? That you think you’re so much better than us. Wasn’t this weekend enough for you?”
It doesn’t surprise me that the story of what happened at the bowling alley has already made the rounds, and even more, that whatever story is being told makes me look bad.
“You weren’t there, so you might want to get your story straight before you decide to talk about it.”
“I didn’t need to be there to know that you’re more trouble than you’re worth to Logan Brantley.”
That stings, because I’ve thought that more than once myself. Regardless, there’s no way I’m going to let this woman think she hit a sore spot.
“Again, you don’t know what you’re talking about.” For good measure, I grab another bottle of vodka and push my cart around her, but my exit isn’t quite as graceful due to the squeaking cart wheels.
From behind me, she keeps talking. “I know that Logan Brantley is working his butt off on some big project, because Jock was talking about it this morning at Home Cookin’. And I also know as soon as Tricia told her mama’s cousin what happened, Mrs. Borst decided she isn’t going to finish that upholstery job Logan hired her for until you apologize to both Tricia and her mama for what you said about her brother.”
The vodka bottles tip over in my cart with a clatter when I freeze in mid-step.
Slowly, I turn around to face her. “Excuse me?”
The brunette gives me the evil eye. “You heard me. You messed with the wrong family, and now Logan’s paying the price in a big way.”
And he hasn’t told me about any of it.
Refusing to give her any more ammunition to gossip about with her friends, I tell her, “There’s absolutely nothing that’s going to stop Logan from finishing his project, let alone a bunch of small-minded bitches.”
“I guess we’ll see about that,” she says before turning in a huff and tipping over her own bottles in the process.
I head directly to the checkout lanes. My phone is already in my hand when I join the line, and I text Logan.
BANNER: Did your upholstery lady quit? Because of me and the bowling alley bitch?
When he doesn’t respond right away, my attention drifts from the lady in front of me with a dozen cases of Dr Pepper on the belt to the rack of tabloids.
I grab the one with a familiar face on the front page.
Cavanaugh Westman Cozy with Billionaire’s Sister
Sure enough, there’s my best friend, Greer, and her man, Cav, sitting side by side at a sidewalk café somewhere.
My phone buzzes in my hand.
MY SEXY MAN: Don’t worry about it. I’ll figure it out.
My thumbs fly across my screen to reply.
BANNER: So that’s a yes?
MY SEXY MAN: It’s not your issue. I’ll handle it.
BANNER: It is my fault. What do I need to do to fix it?
As much as I hate the thought of apologizing to that bitch, if I have to do it to save Logan’s project for Boone, which I know is crazy important for him, I will.
MY SEXY MAN: You’re not doing anything to fix it. I fucking forbid it.
Whoa now.
BANNER: You forbid it? Really? You’re going there?
MY SEXY MAN: Bruce, leave it alone.
BANNER: We’re talking about this tonight.
MY SEXY MAN: I’ll call you when I finish up.
That’s not an agreement that we’re going to talk, but I have a feeling it’s all I’m going to get out of him right now.
My mind starts flipping through options. I don’t know anyone who upholsters shit, but someone I know has to.
The woman in front of me pushes her cart out of the checkout line.
“Ma’am, are you ready?” the cashier says, clearly waiting for me.
“Sorry.” I unload my cart on the conveyer belt and toss the tabloid on it too. Maybe I’ll make a scrapbook for Greer and give it to her someday.
As soon as I’ve paid and the groceries are loaded up in my rental, I give her a call. She answers on the first ring.
“Hey, B, what’s happening? You back in Kentucky?”
“Yes, and don’t get me started on the bitches in this town. You need to tell Hollywood that small towns aren’t like they portray them in the movies.”
“You’re more than capable of handling them.”
“Of course I am, but it’s the repercussions on Logan that’s the problem.”
“What do you mean?”
I fill her in on everything I haven’t already told her, including the bowling alley situation, and the upholstery fallout.
“Good God. Only you, Banner. Only you.”
“My life might not be as interesting as yours, Ms. Tabloid Queen.”
She groans. “Oh no. What did they print now?”
“Nothing bad. Just you and your hot man.” An idea strikes me. “By the way, does he know any of those car show guys? Like the ones that do restorations on TV?”
“You’re trying to fix the upholstery situation without having to apologize, aren’t you?”
I shrug, but she can’t see it. “You know I would in a hot second if Logan asked me to, but I don’t think he will. Actually, he forbade it.”
“Wait, Logan Brantley forbid you from doing something, and you’re actually going to listen to him?”
“Normally I only take orders while I’m naked or cock is involved. I might make an exception for this one, but only if I can’t find a way to fix it.”
Silence follows.
“Greer? Are you still there?”
“Sorry, I’m trying to wrap my head around what you just said. I never knew you liked it when guys told you what to do in bed. I feel like I don’t even know you right now.”
“Shut up,” I say, feeling my cheeks heat.
“Logan really is different, isn’t he?”
I take a deep breath and tell her something I’ve never told her before. “I’m in love with him.”
Greer squeals into the phone. “I knew it! I freaking knew it! I love this so much for you.”
“Calm down, chica. You’re acting like I just cured cancer. It’s just a guy.”
“But it’s not. It’s the guy. The one who changes everything. You found yours, and that makes me so happy for you.”
“Don’t get too happy because if I screwed up the most important project he’s ever had, things might not be awesome for long.”
“Stop it. It’s going to be fine. I’ll ask Cav. He knows a ton of people, and if he doesn’t know someone, he knows someone who knows them. Let me go work this Hollywood connection stuff, and we’ll get it figured out.”
“I swore I wasn’t going to come to you to clean up my messes anymore, G.” My tone is quiet, and Greer answers the same way.
“That’s what friends are for, babe. Love you.”
“Love you.”
We hang up, and the knots that formed in my stomach in the liquor aisle loosen a degree.
I’m going to fix this. I will not let Logan’s business suffer because of something I did.