God, I was such a flaming bitch to him. It was like all the anger and hurt I was feeling gathered up into that one conversation and I heaped it on him with no thought of how it would make him feel. I wasn’t being fair. If I weren’t in the middle of the worst days of my life I would’ve talked to him and told him it spooked me when I was at his house and the place was coated in his life with his wife.

I would’ve told him that the girl filling in for my sister has stolen an ass-ton of money right out from under us and no one can find her. I would’ve told him that my sister is better, but her family is having a hard time with losing my dad and the kids are a mess. Marshall, Jeff and I are working an ungodly number of hours to help make the money for the mortgage and business loan since the money in our account is almost nonexistent. We can’t have Pete working overtime because we’d have to pay him for it. The rest of us can work the overtime for free just to keep the business afloat, at least until our bills are due.

I would also tell him that I’m stressing because I know my being gone for the monster truck shows will put a further strain on Jeff and Marshall. If I didn’t have a contract to honor, I wouldn’t go. I have to leave early next week and my family is in no way ready for me to go.

I’ve interviewed four guys to work in my absence and am hoping to hire one, but after hiring the stealing bookkeeper from hell, I’m gun-shy. At this point, I trust no one and wish I would’ve adopted that personal policy before that crazy bitch stole from us and disappeared without a trace.

We filed a report with the Colorado Springs Police Department and I could see the pity in their eyes as they listened to the story. Both cops who were present for the interview are clients of the shop so they know us and realize what we’re going through with Shaunda sick and losing Dad.

The police didn’t sound too hopeful, but are bringing in a forensic accountant and have put out a warrant for her arrest. They said they’ll work on it but told us not to expect to see the money again, and if we do, it will be a while. I figured as much but didn’t say it out loud.

* * *

A week has passed since my showdown with Victor in the office and I want to see him, but I can’t be certain I won’t lash out again. I feel like it’s all bottled up inside just waiting for an outlet and I can’t find the proper place to let it go. I’m afraid it’ll be the same thing as the last time so I’m going to do the humane thing and just let him go while I try to make it through this monster truck season. Besides, I’ll only be home on Tuesdays and Wednesdays for the next several months, and on those days I’ll be doing the accounting, the deposits and any cars I can fit in. There won’t be time for my regular friends, much less a boyfriend.

The receptionist we hired is strictly answering the phones, receiving walk-in clients and scheduling appointments. No one except family members or Pete will touch the money from here on out. We’re hoping that my sister can come back to work during the last month of the monster truck season so I can be in the shop on my days at home. I can handle doing all of this for a short period of time, I think. She needs time to heal. Eventually it’ll all be okay—if we can just survive these next several months.

Today, I have to meet with a loan officer at the bank to discuss our loan. I’m going to clean out my savings—which isn’t much—to help with some of the money the shop owes on past-due bills we didn’t know about until that bitch took off. Dad’s estate is in probate right now so we can’t touch anything that was his to help with this. My brother is broke; he never learned to save and is learning the hard lesson of what a rainy day is all about and why you save for those. My sister and her husband cleared out their savings to pay for procedures that their insurance didn’t cover. I don’t mind using my savings to keep our business afloat, but it’s not going to be enough. More than anything, I’m hoping it buys us some time. If it were our old bank, I’m sure they would make concessions for us, but they were bought out by a big New York bank last year and are governed by different policies that don’t flex with circumstances. It seriously sucks for us.

Luckily, the funeral home is still locally owned by a client of ours and he is willing to wait to get paid until Dad’s estate is available to us. The whole thing is so embarrassing and sad, and my dad, who was hard-working and full of pride, is probably rolling in his grave if he’s watching all of this. I’ve wondered several times if he figured out this was going on and that’s what caused the heart attack. I guess we’ll never know.

Every night when my head finally hits the pillow, the first thing I think of is Victor. I wonder if he’s moved on to someone less complicated or if he’s picking up women in bars and taking them home to take the edge off or if he’s lying in his bed wondering what I’m doing. Maybe he’s secretly relieved that he can go on living his life of comfort, surrounded by his dead wife, never having to really move on.

He’s such an amazing man in so many ways. Multifaceted is the best way I can describe him. When I first met him, I thought he was handsome in a goody-two-shoes sort of way, which is not my type. His kind heart caught my attention first, but the wicked hazel eyes and warm smile made me look twice. When he showed up for hiking with my brother and our friends, looking like that’s how he spends all his weekends, I knew there was more to him and I was intrigued. The real kicker came though later that day when I saw his tattoos and watched him carry my best friend for over two miles without huffing and puffing. Victor is thoughtful and intelligent, he can cook, his home was clean, and my family liked him—which is saying a lot right there because it took them forever to like Curtis.

Speaking of Curtis, he’s been calling me nonstop and even stopped by my place last week unexpectedly. Throughout the entire visit the only thing I could think about was how to get him out of there. I’m not in the mood to deal with him. We were together for a long time but he broke my heart in a big way and I’m finally over him. Once I’m done with something or someone there’s no going back for me. The arrogant ass can’t seem to get that through his head. It’s crazy. He even went so far as to call Victor a few choice names and got pissed when I defended him. Now he won’t stop texting and calling. Like with everyone else though, I’m ignoring him.

* * *

The first month of the season has gone by and I’m struggling. I’m lonely, despite being surrounded by people all the time, and exhausted because I’m not sleeping well on the road. When I’m home, I’m working 12-hour days to get us caught up for the time I was gone on the road. I’m still avoiding everyone except Shaunda’s family and my brother because I don’t want to answer the questions that everyone keeps asking about how I’m doing. My siblings are holding up the best they can too, so I don’t have to worry about that stupid question from them.

It’s 25 minutes past the time that I was supposed to get out of bed when my phone buzzes on the nightstand of my hotel room. I roll over and pick it up.

“Hey, Jeff. Everything okay?” He’s taken to calling me this early to check on me, so I don’t freak out anymore when the phone rings at this time of morning.

“Yeah, just getting ready to head to the shop.”

“Makes for a long day, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah, the boys don’t understand why I’m so tired all the time, but if I don’t get in early I don’t get my work done in time to get them from school and help around the house.”

“Only a little longer until things will be better. I’ll be off the road and she will be back behind the desk.”

“I know, that’s why I’m not complaining. How are you?”

“Living the dream,” I say sarcastically.

“You are so full of shit.”

I chuckle a little. “Yeah, well I’m hoping that if I lie to myself long enough it will become the truth. Listen, I need to get off here. I’m supposed to be ready in half an hour and I haven’t even been through the shower yet. Kiss the boys and hug my sister for me.”

“I will.” He clears his throat like he’s building up the courage to say something and I wait. “Colby, please take care of yourself. We love you and are all worried about you.”

“You draw the short straw for calling me?”

This time his chuckle rumbles through the line. “Something like that. I’m serious, Colby. This family won’t survive if something happens to you.”

“I’ll be fine. I love you for caring. Now get to work!”

“Love you too.” That’s more sentimentality than he’s known for so I take it for what it’s worth and drag myself out of bed to start another long day.

* * *

Later that night, I’m exiting the arena with one of the other drivers and I hear my name called. I plaster on my crowd-pleasing smile in case it’s a fan or a sponsor and turn toward the sound. It’s then that I realize my mistake. Curtis is jogging my way. I can’t help the curse that slips from my lips. Why is he in Utah?

Darryll, the other driver I’m with, asks, “You okay? Want me to get rid of this idiot?”

“Nah, I can handle him. He’s my ex, not a crazy stalker.”

“You sure? You don’t look happy to see him.”

“I’m not, but he’s harmless. I’ll get rid of him and head back to the hotel. See you later.”

He looks at me like he’s not sure and I turn away from him. I can handle myself if I need to, but Curtis won’t hurt me. Annoy me, yeah, I’m certain he’ll do that, but I’m safe.

“Hey, Colby-girl! You done for the night?” He grins at me like I should be happy he’s giving me his attention.

“Yeah.”

“Let’s go grab a beer.”

“Not tonight, Curtis. I haven’t been sleeping well and I need to get some rest.”

“Come on, just one. It will help you relax a little. We can go to your hotel bar so you can go straight to bed after.”

I contemplate it. Maybe a beer would help me fall asleep easier. I rarely drink while I’m on the road so a beer will probably help to settle my racing thoughts a little.

“Fine, I’ll have one beer.”

He smiles like he’s won the lottery and for a second I remember some of what I saw in him. We were good together once. Although he may be thinking he has a chance with me, he doesn’t. I was done with him when he crushed my heart the last time.

When we arrive at the bar we take a small corner booth for two and order our drinks. It’s relatively quiet, just the low hum of voices around us and the occasional clinking of glasses as the bartender cleans up the empties.

His jovial expression sobers as he asks, “So how are you really doing?”

I don’t feel like confiding in him about what’s going on with me. I no longer trust him with the things in my life and heart, so I lie. “I’m doing okay. Being on the road helps because we’re so busy I don’t have time to think. How are things with you?” I ask, not really caring.

“Lonely.” Oh Lord, here he goes.

“Seems to be the same for a lot of people these days. State of the world, I guess.” If I give him a generic response, it won’t leave the conversation open for him to get into things I don’t want to discuss.

“You know that’s not what I mean.”

“I’m not in a place to ask you about that part of your life, Curtis. We broke up a long time ago—by your choice, if I remember correctly.”

“Your brother said you and that stuffy ambulance chaser broke up. I was thinking maybe we could spend some time together and see what happens. We were good together.”

“You’re a nice guy and I appreciate you coming to see me, but you ended things with us a while ago. You broke my heart and didn’t think twice. You can’t come waltzing back to me, expecting me to jump into your arms. I don’t get burned twice. I learn my lessons the first time and I learned a hard one with you. If you want to remain friends I can do that on a limited basis, but past that I’ve got nothing for you.”

I made a mistake thinking I could sit here and relax while drinking a beer with him so I pull money from my wallet and toss it on the table.

“Thanks for dropping by to see me. Take care of yourself.” As I’m attempting to flee, he grabs my arm and spins me back to him. The quick change in direction throws me off balance and I end up right in his arms with his mouth less than an inch from mine. Before he can put his lips on me, I knee him in the nuts. “No means no. No, I’m not interested. No, you can’t force it, and no, you can’t kiss me,” I growl and stomp off.

So much for a relaxing drink. Asshole. He doesn’t follow me, thank goodness, and I return to my room to change into my pajamas and crawl under the covers. One thing I can thank him for is he took me from depressed to fiery mad. It’s an almost welcome feeling.

* * *

By the time I return home early on Tuesday, I’m exhausted. Between all that’s required of me and my lack of sleep due to current life circumstances…I’m done. I call my brother on the way home and let him know I’m going to nap before I come in to do the books. When I shuffle inside my house I’m so tired that I plop down on my bed sideways, thinking I’ll just rest like this for a few minutes.

* * *

The sunlight that only streaks through my bedroom window during late afternoon blinds me for a moment as I blink my eyes open. I run my hand over my face and find dried spit in a line from the corner of my mouth into my hair by my ear. Lovely. It only takes a minute to fully come to my senses and realize I’m supposed to be at the office, so I leap out of bed and rush around to wash my face and head out the door.

In my haste to leave I grab my purse, but forget my cell at home. I never forget my cell phone, but that’s how out of sorts I am. When I finally show up at the shop, Jeff comes inside the office, wiping his hands on an old rag as I gather the invoices to work on.

“You okay, Colby?”

“I must have been more tired than I thought because I fell asleep fully clothed, even had my shoes on, and woke up five hours later. I’ll get this done as soon as I can and make the drop at the bank.”

“Colby, a few hours isn’t gonna make a difference. If you need more rest, take it. I can always get Shaunda to help me do it.”

“No!” I practically shout. “I want her to get better. She can’t do that if she’s stressed with this place. I’ll get it done, I promise. Thanks for offering.”

He stares at me with concerned eyes for an uncomfortable minute before he nods and leaves me alone in the office. The overly chipper voice of the new receptionist up front, who is taking calls and greeting customers, is slightly irritating until she’s ready to leave two hours later. She pokes her head in the door. “Ms. Averette, I’m headed home for the day. I’ll see you tomorrow.” I nod at her, almost too tired to speak, and return to logging in invoices, hoping to finish them today.

My brother leans on the doorjamb of my office a couple of hours later. “Colby, you need to go home and get some rest. You can’t keep going like this.”

“I’m fine. I got a nap today. I need to finish these so I can tackle payroll in the morning.”

“Colby, why don’t you let Shaunda help? She’s not going to die if she comes in here and does payroll for a couple hours.”

“You’re right. She’s not going to die, because we’re going to give her time to heal. Her body needs recovery, not more stress. She’s got enough with the boys and her own well-being. I’ll be fine. Now, leave me alone so I can finish this for tonight and go home to do laundry.”

He crosses the room, leans down and places a brotherly kiss on the top of my head. “Love you, Colby. I’m here if you need me, no matter what it is.”

“I know. I love you too.”

I know if I tell him how bad I’m hurting, how lonely I feel, how overwhelmed I am, that he would move heaven and earth to fix it all for me, but he has his own shit to worry about. He doesn’t need mine added to it. I’ll be fine, eventually.