I spin around and search for the soccer player I’m here to see. He must have moved somewhere else during this horrible conversation because he’s nowhere to be found. Just great, I’m going to need to mingle some moreto find him again.
I sense Jorge lurking behind me. His voice is harsh as he whispers, “You’ll regret all of this, Holly Kingston. I’ll be watching for a wedding announcement, and if anything about your supposed relationship seems out of place, your worst enemies will hear about it.”
A chill runs up my spine and I turn, only to see Jorge walking out of the room.
I make sure he’s gone before focusing back on business.
My stomach sinks as I think about the conversations ahead of me.
I just pray Mateo agrees to go along with my charade because Jorge doesn't dish out empty threats.
Chapter 4
June Bridegroom
Mateo
Chris LeDoux’s country song about a county fair blasts in my ears and my head bobs as I sift through the leaves of the tree before me. I grip a handful of dark red cherries, pulling the stems off the branches, then dropping the fruit into the bucket strapped to my chest. Cherry picking season in Bolt has always been my favorite.
I pick our few Bing cherry trees by hand so they're not bruised by the machines that harvest our tart cherries. The fruit tastes better when hand-picked and there’s something about climbing a ladder, being in a tree, the sweet scent of cherry juice, and the relief the shade brings from the sun that fills my heart with joy.
The afternoon sun is brutal this time of year. I’m grateful I’m in the orchard today instead of with our small herd of cattle this afternoon. The oval cherry tree leaves shade me from the heat, although they sometimes make it harder to find the fruit. But I’d rather have to search for cherries than have the sun beating on me.
Unlike my Mami and sisters, whose salvadoreño blood showed up in their skin tones, I inherited my dad’s coloring. Though my skin has a slight olive tint to it, I still burn if I’m in the sun for too long. I never tan like mysisters. My sun-sensitive skin means sunscreen is my best friend and worst enemy.
Any chance I have to avoid putting it on makes me happy.
Call me crazy, but I’ve never been a fan of the smell.
Fresh cherries, on the other hand, I could eat and smell all day.
As my hand wraps around a small bunch, my music stops and my generic ringtone pierces my eardrum. I really need to set up personalized ringtones for my friends and family because if this is Hudson calling me to try to set me up with another woman in town, I might just ignore his call. I’d definitely let the call go to voicemail if it’s my mom calling about another granddaughter of someone in town who wants to date me. Her meddling is driving me insane.
I drop the cherries in the bucket, slip my hand out of my gloves, and hit the answer button on the side of my Bluetooth earbuds. “Hello?”
“Hi, Mateo.” The sound of Holly’s voice soothes my worry over it being another matchmaking call but fills me with another sense of concern. Holly has never called me before. We’ve talked maybe five or six times. I didn’t even know she had my phone number.
“Hey, Holly. What’s up?”
She pauses, and I hear her let out a deep breath on the other side of the line. “I have a situation. I need help, but I can’t ask Alex. So, I thought I’d call you.”
I am all ears and insanely curious. “Always happy to help you, Holly. Anything for my best friend’s sister.” My hands wrap around another handful of cherries, hoping the normalcy of the movement helps keep my intense interest under wraps.
Her laugh is stilted. I’m not sure if it’s because we’re on the phone or if something isreallywrong. “Well, you haven’t heard what I need help with yet. So, just… hear me out, okay?”
“I’m pretty sure whatever you’ll ask me, I can help with Holly. I know some great places to bury a body, too.”
Holly chuckles and this time it sounds real. The happy noise sends a swarm of bees into my chest. I smile, picturing Holly as we talk. I think about her smile, and how she looked the last time I saw her on that almost-a-date red carpet experience. “Don’t tempt me. I don’t want to kill the man. I just want him to stay away from me.”
Cherries slip through my fingers. “I’m getting my shovel.” Joking is my fail-safe for when I feel things. In reality, which I’m glad she can’t see, I’m white-knuckling this ladder. My knees have failed me at the thought of a man bothering Holly. I desperately want to run and defend her from the creep.
She laughs again, the sound only slightly easing the tension in my chest. “You don’t even know what he’s done, Mateo. You can’t just threaten people like that.”
I scoff. “Youjustsaid you want him to stay away from you. That means he’s doing something he shouldn’t. That means I can threaten the man.”
“Jorge isn’t worth you going to jail.”
I squeeze the cherries in my hand too tight and crush them. Juice seeps into my fingers. “Jorge, as in the Jorge from the red carpet? Who was getting way too handsy?”
