Reaper's Fire
Page 32

“I’m going to do what she says,” I told her flatly. “Not because what she did was okay. It wasn’t. And not because I’m scared of her, although I totally am. I’m doing it because she’s right, Carrie. What happened last night between me and Cooper was wrong and a huge mistake.”
“I know,” she said steadily. “But he started it, not you.”
“And I could’ve ended it if I wanted to,” I replied, meeting her eyes. “But I didn’t. In that moment I didn’t care about anyone but myself. I acted like Brandon, and I’m better than that.”
“You did not act like Brandon,” she said, her voice firm. “You can regret last night all you want, and I definitely think it was a mistake . . . But you have a long way to go before you’re on Brandon’s level. Stop beating yourself up and start focusing on how we’re going to fix things.”
“Maybe I should just move back to Seattle,” I said quietly.
“No.”
“Not back with Brandon,” I insisted. “But this town . . . You’ve always loved this place, Carrie, but I never saw myself in Hallies Falls. You know that. The only reason I’m here is my dad.”
“Okay, calm down,” she said. “You’re freaking out, which is fair. Talia is scary as hell. But you can’t just up and move to Seattle because one crazy bitch threw a tantrum.”
“A crazy bitch with a machete.”
“Yeah, that part is troubling,” she admitted, and I snorted. “Geez, it’s hard to wrap my head around. And talk about bad luck, having her walk in like that. I mean, you’ve been a fucking saint since—”
“We agreed to never speak of it again,” I reminded her, holding up a hand.
She nodded her head, then cocked a brow at me.
“Still can’t believe you banged Jamie Braeburn. I was so proud of you, babe! Nothing like getting laid to help you forget a man. And Brandon—”
“Stop,” I said, flushing. “We’re not rehashing this, and I think we should put the discussion of Cooper on hold, too.”
“I agree. But sometimes I wonder . . . Why are all the hot guys crazy?”
“Darren is hot.”
“I rest my case. Don’t suppose you still want your salad after all that?”
“Maybe I’ll just put it in the fridge for later. My stomach is still queasy from the adrenaline. I need to get things cleaned up here, and then I’ve got to start making more caramels. The deliveries will be late, obviously, but I should be able to get most of this replaced by Wednesday morning if I put in long enough hours. I’ll drive it to Seattle that night, then start my deliveries on Thursday. If everything goes well, I can come back and work through the weekend to put out next week’s product.”
“You’re going to kill yourself doing all of that, especially since it’s all by hand,” Carrie said seriously. “It’s not realistic—it’s time to put in a real kitchen. Darren can help you with remodeling the basement in your house. You need to make this sustainable, and that can’t happen if you’re running a tea shop and hand-dipping every single one of those caramels.”
I looked at her, wishing she weren’t right. I’d managed to hold it together so far, but my back and shoulders ached every night from all the leaning and dipping. My enrobing machine could do it all in an hour or two, easy. It was all ready and waiting for me, back in the basement in Seattle. The tea shop kitchen wasn’t big enough to hold it.
“Maybe I should just move Dad to Seattle,” I said softly. “Get a property manager for the building and end this. I never planned to stay in Hallies Falls this long.”
Carrie reached across the table, squeezing my hand.
“I know things aren’t perfect here,” she said softly. “And I’m biased, because I want you to stay in town. But before you make a decision like that, really think about your dad. We can all see that he’s failing. Nobody knows how long he’ll last, but one thing we do know—he’s in a house that feels safe and right to him. He’s comfortable, he’s happy, and he has his routine. He may not always remember that your mom is gone, but he always remembers where he is. He knows where to find a drink, he knows how to walk around the neighborhood. If you take that away from him, he’ll lose whatever quality of life he has left.”
Her words hit like a punch to the gut.
“I’m scared,” I admitted softly. Carrie nodded, her face determined.
“I know,” she said. “But we’re going to protect you. First thing, we shut down this shop for good, so you can work in peace without worrying about the crazy sneaking up on you again.”
I opened my mouth to protest, but Carrie held up a hand, cutting me off. “Your mom loved this place, but it’s not a functional business. She never would’ve expected you to keep it open and you know it.”
She was right.
“So, that takes care of the shop,” she said. “Now we need to deal with the candy crisis. Should you try to make up for all that lost work here, or should you go to Seattle so you can use the heavy equipment? I hate to even suggest it, but I know you’ll get more done in your big kitchen there. Of course, you’ll also have to clean everything up first and make sure it’s running right. Not only that, you’ll have to deal with Brandon. Not that I care if it’s inconvenient for him. The fucker’s been dragging his feet on the divorce and selling the house, so he can suck it up and share with you for a couple days. The real question is whether you can tolerate him long enough to get the work done.”
I considered her suggestion, weighing the pros and cons as dispassionately as I could.
“I should go to Seattle,” I finally concluded. “With the equipment there I can replace the lost candy twice as fast. Gives some time for the situation with Talia to cool off, too. I’ll have to do something with Dad, though.”
“Take him with you.”
“What happened to keeping him in the home he loves?”
Carried rolled her eyes.
“You’re not supposed to stay there, dumbass. You go, you catch up on your work, and then you come back. Bring Randi, too—I’ll bet she’d love to get out of the house, and she can do all the packaging. She can also help keep an eye on your dad.”