Lacey

MY BED WAS CONSTRUCTED, my freshly washed linen was in place and the handyman I’d paid extra in town to move all his pressing jobs to the right, was starting tomorrow to decorate. I felt more relaxed when I climbed out of the tub on the hot as hell June evening, surrounded by recently purchased fans and a clean, semi-comfortable property. The afternoon, after taking delivery, was spent looking through the files in the office and asking leading questions of Alex’s staff to try to find out more about Emma-Louise and what the hell all the existing staff members did. Alex had been in and outflanked by his faithful dog and when the kids got back from school, he left to go get them a snack. I followed, intending to walk home but the teenage girl who visited me the other night waved me over.

“Lacey!” she yelled, and I smiled, walking to where she sat on the ground in the sunshine, eating a muffin with Bear draped over her legs.

Alex stepped out the back door as I walked to Sara and watched me warily, “How was school?” I asked.

“You two met?” Alex asked with narrowed eyes and he passed Sara an OJ which she reached up for with a self-satisfied smile on her face.

“Sure,” she shrugged, “I introduced myself seeing as you have no manners.” He turned away from her and went to walk back inside when the young guy I’d seen him with at the pizza place thundered out of the door. He had a football in his hands and was talking a mile a minute.

“So, Luke Dactara said that ghosts exist like for real and if you look at them, like in the eye, you’ll die, like immediately.”

“Well Luke Dactara is a moron and his brother is in my grade and has the mental capacity of an ape,” Sara said, eating her muffin crumb by crumb slowly, sharing with Bear.

The boy ran around her in circles still holding the ball, “He’s seen a ghost, an old lady who lived in their house.”

“Baloney,” Sara said, rolling her eyes and shaking her head. Logan stopped his running as if just noticing me there and stepped forward.

“Are you the owner?” he asked, narrowing his eyes just as Alex did and I noted the resemblance. He had lighter hair than Alex but the same unusual colored eyes and intense stare.

“I am,” I nodded confidently, and he stepped towards me, “Do you play catch?” he asked and Sara groaned.

“Logan, stop!” She jumped up and Bear groaned as he was involuntarily moved off her lap. “He asks everyone to play catch. This,” she pointed to the little guy, “is my ten-year-old brother, Logan, and he really wants a playmate for Christmas,” she teased.

He stared at her, “Get lost, Sara, I just asked.”

“I’ll play,” Alex stepped our way, and I watched as his lithe but strong body moved to step between me and his siblings.

“Yessssss,” Logan hissed, “you wanna?” he peeped around Alex to ask me and I shrugged.

“I’m not very good.”

“Can you catch?” he asked.

“She’s too busy,” Alex answered.

“She’ll mess up her outfit,” Sara agreed and I felt a little outraged that it was assumed I wouldn’t join in.

“I can catch,” I nodded with a determined stare, “I have a kid brother, I’ve played football.”

Alex just looked at me, “on the PlayStation, yeah?”

“No,” I popped my eyes open and shook my head, “on a field.” I looked down at my Rolex although I had nowhere to be, I guess it was habit. “I have some time.”

“Sara, you better play if she is,” Logan whined. “Girls versus boys.”

“What?” she squeaked, “I just ate a huge muffin and I hate to get sweaty.”

“Come on,” I cajoled her, “if I’m doing it then you should, you can burn off that muffin.”

“Fine,” she stroked Bear and walked to where I stood. “Ten minutes.”

Half an hour later the four of us were still running up and down the length of the grass behind the big house, sweating, laughing and screaming at each other. The boys named their team ‘the winners’ so Sara and I named our team ‘the champions’. We were down four points, sixteen to twenty when Mabel yelled out from the back door, “Lemonade.” She placed a pitcher on the long, outdoor wooden tables and we walked, panting, to the large pitcher and four glasses on a tray.

“You play good for a girl,” Logan told me as he chugged down the homemade lemonade.

“You need to work on your compliments,” I winked at him.

I glanced at Alex and he was quiet as usual, breathing hard like the rest of us and drinking the lemonade with his eyes trained on me. “You guys play hard, huh?” I laughed, but he didn’t smile.

“Usually Logan begs us to play but we’re too tired,” Sara added, “but today was fun having a girl on my team.”

“Yeah?” I grinned and drank the lemonade.

“You staying for dinner?” Logan asked me and before Alex could protest as he was still swallowing his drink I shook my head.

“I better get back. I need a shower now and I have lots of work to do but thanks for the workout, little dude,” I threw my hand up for a high five and he smacked it.

“See you around, Lacey,” Logan yelled as I walked away.

“Bye,” Sara shouted after me.

“See you, guys,” I waved as I walked off down the side of the house and didn’t miss the fact that Alex couldn’t bring himself to say a goddamned word.

 

Just as I was getting settled in front of the TV, dressed in my pajamas with my laptop on my knee and glass of rosé in hand, there was a knock at the door. I thought it would be one of my neighbors that I’d met over the last few days. I moved to the door and had no way of peeking before I opened. I pulled back and saw Grayson.  His dark eyes washed over my pajamas: matching Beauty and the Beast shorts and a vest top that Mom had bought me for Christmas. No sexy nightwear here. His mouth turned into a wolfish grin and he leaned on the doorjamb with his forearm.

“Hey, city girl,” he drawled easily. I smiled and crossed my arms over my chest. This guy was ruggedly good looking, cocky and desperate for some action. All attributes I liked in a man, but I usually liked to be dressed in something a little more than almost sheer cotton before the sex. I was body confident, that came from lots of gym before work, barely eating carbs and skipping lunch. I liked makeup as well—once you wore MAC you couldn’t go back—and I hated the blemishes I saw when that was removed from the equation.

“Hello, Grayson,” I said, the grin he drew out of me still owning my face. I bit my lip a little, “how did you find me?” I raised an eyebrow.

“Not hard when we don’t get newcomers often, you having more deliveries than President Trump and you've also hired up the only local handyman, pissing everyone else off.”

“I drive a hard bargain,” I told him, “and what I was prepared to pay meant I got what I wanted.”

“Oh, I bet you always get what you want, huh?” his eyes glided down my toned, tan body again and I nodded.

“Yeah,” it was true. I’d been able to get what I wanted from the day I realized how to manipulate men and how to win over the stubbornest of women.

“Well, I thought I’d take you to the latest watering hole for a drink.” I narrowed my eyes and noticed he was all dressed up, for a country boy. He had jeans, tucked into brown cowboy boots and a black short-sleeve button down tucked into those belted jeans. His hair was styled, and he smelled delightful: fruity yet sweet. I liked how he looked freshly showered and maybe still a little wet, it had been a while since I’d felt the weight of a man on me, almost two weeks.

“Say I don’t drink?” I teased.

“I guessed a city girl with a stressful job needs to unwind somehow,” he sighed, then smirked and raised an eyebrow.

“Who said I had a stressful job?” I narrowed my eyes again.

“It’s the rumor on the street,” he licked his lips, “so you coming like that?”

“I’ve not decided if I’m coming at all yet,” I laughed.

“Come on, a girl needs a friend.”

“True,” I nodded, “give me five.” I went to close the door.

“Whoa,” he held his hand out, “aren’t you inviting me in?”

“Nope,” I gave him a cute pout. “I barely know you and there are seats right out there.” I closed the door and smiled to myself. No way would I be inviting him in, we might get sweaty later, but I wasn’t about to be tempted to a preview party.

I had no idea where he was taking me but had an idea it wouldn’t be an exclusive club somewhere, so I found a pair of skinny white jeans I’d had a year or so, a red vest top and some mules. I added some costume jewelry and touched up my makeup that hadn’t melted off during the day. I rarely washed and dried my own hair—my exclusive hairdresser to the stars, Karl, did that. He tamed it once a week at home, and beyond that I tried my best not to get it wet. It was getting to the point where I was going to have to have to start my own styling unless there was a decent hairdresser in the vicinity. I hadn’t seen somewhere when I’d driven out.

I used dry shampoo on the roots and teased the ends with my curling iron to try to make it look decent. Then I pinned it at one side, so it would flow over my shoulder. After fifteen minutes I was happy with the results and walked to the door and pulled it open to see Grayson sat at one of the two old, wooden seats on the veranda distracted by his phone. When he saw me, his face lit up like a Christmas tree.

“Wow,” he said. Yeah, I had it, I knew I had it. I had the big boobs that always made me look older than my years as a teenager and even at twenty-eight they were still pert and pointed the right way. I had a booty that filled out jeans, but my waist was trained to be tiny and I liked the look. My bras were purchased to enhance my assets and boy they were expensive but did they!

“Thanks,” I grinned, stepping out on to the veranda and then turning to lock the door. “Where are we going?” I asked casually.

“Lou’s bar,” he said, “but damn girl you’re gonna be the hottest girl there for sure.” I flashed him a grin.

“Lou’s bar, huh?” We walked to the truck that I recognized as his from our meeting in town a few days ago. “Do they serve cocktails?”

“I’m sure they can rustle something up,” he grinned.

I climbed into the truck, buckled up and Grayson started to drive. We drove along the dirt track and past the main house which was illuminated but I didn’t see anyone through the windows. The house was tired; it needed painting inside and out and had not been renovated for some time. The whole place was a little tired but maybe that’s how farms rolled, who knew? We drove outta there and Grayson turned the music up a little as we headed away from town and into the wilds. I did wonder fleetingly whether this guy could be a serial killer, but hey, everyone knew him, he couldn’t be dangerous... I guessed. Every day in New York was taking my life in my own hands and a party girl needed to drink.

So I told myself.

After twenty minutes of driving and some small talk later, I noticed some flashing lights and a few more taillights than we’d seen before. There, off the road up to the left was a bar that had a blue neon sign that read Lou’s Bar. It was in the middle of nowhere flanked by a house and over the road a shabby looking motel. The place was not what I was used to, but I was sure that nothing round here was. We parked up, and I hopped out when Grayson did. He walked around the truck to collect me and I smiled.

“One bar town?” I asked, and he nodded.

“Don’t know who Lou is but sure as the day is long, when you turn twenty-one round here this is your bar,” he grinned.

“Well let’s get inside,” I nodded towards the place.

As soon as we pushed through the door, the beer smell was overwhelming and the heat hit me like a tidal wave of sweat and moistness. I almost gasped but managed to maintain control. Air con was like rocking horse shit in Montana, it seemed, and no one batted an eyelid. I followed Grayson to the bar and although I only wore a light vest, I felt like it was already sticking to my body. People were looking at us, but I wasn’t averse to attention. The bar was like a huge warehouse with wooden tables and stools scattered through the middle, booths all around the outside and a dance floor at the end. There was a poor excuse for a stage where a band was set up, but no one was playing. The bar was on the right and ran half the length of the room.

“What you havin’?” Grayson asked, “they got a menu.” He handed me a folded laminated menu that had various drinks on there, it was sticky and looked homemade.

“Any rosé wine,” I told him, “I’ll get the next one.”

“Sure,” he gave me a confident grin, “go find us a seat.” I hadn’t grown up a pampered pooch, far from it. My parents had been the epitome of middle class America. My mom was a homemaker and my dad has his own fishing shop. We lived in a small town, but nothing compared to Celebration Falls. We knew our neighbors, but we didn’t feel restricted like I had here so far. I needed this break, I needed to remember who I was and where I was from. I could rough it.

I found a seat at a vacant booth as it was still early and the place wasn’t really alive yet. Grayson slid in next to me on the bench seat and turned to face me; he had a bottle of bud and slid me the wine.

“Thanks,” I nodded to him. He was keen and wasn’t giving me much space. I liked confident, but I hadn’t yet decided if I liked Grayson.

“So, you out at crazy farm, hey?” he asked. I smiled and slanted my head, taking a sip of wine. I had no idea how much he knew about the situation. “How come you’re staying all the way out there?” He swallowed the beer, and I noticed how his Adam’s apple bobbed neatly in his strong neck that was coated in a layer of scruff. He was good looking, and he knew it.

“Business,” I grinned.

“You could have rented a room off me,” his eyes glinted with mischief. “I love hiring out to hot women.”

“Oh yeah?” I took another sip of the wine. It was sweeter than I usually liked but it was alcohol and that would do, “you rent out to a lot of hot women?”

“Don’t get many round these parts,” he grinned, and I laughed and shook my head.

“Full of charm, Grayson,” I said.

“Sure am,” he chinked his beer bottle to my glass. “So you’re not sharing your business then?” he asked.

“I like privacy, but you can tell me about you.” I smirked at him and he grinned, flirting with me. 

“Mysterious much?” he moved in closer and slung his arm around my shoulder. I liked a man who knew what he wanted, and I appreciated a good looking guy with a great body but my instincts with Grayson were a little off. It was too early in the night for him to be so familiar.

I scooted back a little, and he got the message.

“Well you know I'm a mechanic and I told you my dad owns the autoshop, so you know everything,” he shrugged.

“Not married?” I asked.

“Never been, you?”

I pursed my lips, “I am married actually,” I sipped my drink and narrowed my eyes to gauge his reaction.

“Happily?” he asked.

“Separated,” I answered.

“You related to the Millers?” he asked.

“No,” I shook my head.

“What d’ya think of them?” he asked and I shrugged.

“I don’t know much,” I answered honestly.

“Well if you want to know about the real people in this town, you’d do well to stay clear of them.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah,” he nodded, “their mom is clear crazy. I hear she’s in some sort of psychiatric hospital right now, always in town ranting and screaming at her kids.” He sighed.

“What?” I scrunched my eyebrows together. “I met her, she didn’t seem crazy.”

“Manic is the word,” he held up a finger, “and that Alex, he punched me clean across the face in this here bar, full of anger and rage that guy. Then that weird, little sister... don’t get me started.”

“She’s a teenager,” I said with defense in my tone, “they’re all quirky.”

“Well she takes quirky to a whole new level,” he blew out a breath, and I felt annoyed. I got that he clearly had beef with the Millers for whatever reason. He'd made it clear he didn’t like Alex when we saw him at the restaurant but now to pick on Sara was irritating.

“I don’t know them all that well and I’d rather hear positive stories than negative gossip about Bishops Hill farm’s inhabitants.” I snapped.

“Okay,” he drew out the word sarcastically but could tell I didn’t want to discuss it any further. “I’m just trying to warn you.” He said, his hands held up in surrender.

“I’m quite capable of making my own mind up about people thank you,” I said a little haughtily, “let me past and I’ll get another round.”

I marched to the bar and took a shot of Tequila whilst I waited for our order and decided that Grayson Tyrer was the town dick. He was self-assured to the point of arrogant and he had an idea that I was a done deal. I was way too good for him and I wasn’t so hard up for a good fuck that I needed him.  When I returned it was laughable that he didn’t realize he’d blown it big style. We had a couple more drinks and then I said I had to get back as I had an early start. I didn’t like how he had blatantly tried to muddy everyone else’s reputation rather than try to get to know me. Hell, he didn’t even blink when I’d said I was married. That spoke volumes, but one thing he did say had bothered me. He’d said that Emma-Louise was in a psychiatric facility—that angered me. I’d given Alex various opportunities to tell me where his mom was, the manager of the farm and the person who guaranteed me a high turnover when I purchased the place. I had no clue if her mid-twenties son could manage the place in her absence and he had been sketchy about when she was back.

Clearly her issues were more pronounced than he'd led me to believe. Mental health problems did not heal overnight, and they were never truly gone. 

Grayson offered to come inside when we got back but I politely declined, told him I had an early start and I’d see him around. I didn’t owe the guy anything, we’d gone Dutch all night, and I had decided he was not my type of guy. I’d had my fill of snakes in my youth and I smelled them out a mile off. Yes, I liked casual sex but in a small town the faceless bang was not possible.

I stood on the porch and watched as his taillights disappeared, then I ran inside, changed my mules to flip flops and decided to pay Alex a visit. I was a little loaded as I’d had a couple of shots and four glasses of wine, plus I hadn’t eaten much for dinner. I wasn’t drunk, but I was buzzed and I wanted to know why Alex felt I didn’t need to know the truth about his mom.