“And they want you to dress as him.”
“Me? Why me?”
“That, I’m not sure about. Something about Bash taking your sister to Disneyland for Christmas, and Austin had something? Not sure. Just heard that part of the conversation.” I opened my mouth, but Rusty held up a hand in front of him. “And please don’t yell. I’m just telling you what I heard yesterday.” A muscle twitched under my eye.Yesterday.Fuck, my best friends were a pain in my ass.
“This is crap.”
“And I hate to tell you I can donate the goods, but I won’t have time to help you build it.”
“What?” That made my eyes widen.
“Well, I’m seeing someone, and my nights are… busy.”
“You’re seeing someone?” I leaned against the counter, curiosity getting the better of me. I had four sisters and knew good tea when I heard it. Sue me. “Anyone I know?” I asked.
“Probably.” His pepper-and-salt brows bunched, “You remember Pearl Lynch?”
“You mean Mrs. Lynch, the third-grade teacher at the elementary school?” Holy shit. Rusty was seeing someone.
“Yes. Her,” he muttered, looking around the store as if someone had unexpectedly snuck in to overhear us talking.
“Why haven’t you let Candy take over this place?” I asked plainly. The words slipped past my lips before I could find a better way to ask him.
“What?” Rusty crossed his arms over his chest.
“You heard me.”
“Look, kid, I don’t know if this is your business.”
“She was upset, Russ,” I said quietly. Guilt shined in his stare. “She never gets upset. She might wreak havoc, but she doesn’t cry,” I unnecessarily reminded him.
“Candy’s great, but… she’s not ready.”
“That’s bullshit, and we both know it.”
“Really?” His eyes widened, and he chuckled. “She’s been adding glitter to your paint,” he said. I wasn’t sure why it surprised me he knew about that.
“That’s because she’s mad at me,” I shared.
“What you do to my niece?”
“Nothing,” I grumbled and ran my hand through my hair. “That really why you won’t hand over the place and finally retire? You genuinely think she’s not ready?”
“She’s pissed,” he stated the obvious, but I didn’t do anything other than look at him. “Not completely. Not at all,” he admitted. “I know she’s capable even if she’s messing with your paint, but I know it’s because your place is…”
“Is what?” I asked when he didn’t say another word. He scratched his neck while looking guilty as hell for talking a little too much.
“Special to her, son.”
“What?” I blinked.
“She grew up there. Before her parents split up, she used to live there.” I blinked.
“She did?”
“Yeah. They split, and her dad hardly ever came back. The piece of shit,” he shared even more.
“Holy shit.” I’d purchased her childhood home. Now it made sense why she knew what would work where better than I did without ever having been there with me.
