Chapter Sixteen
“Alice?”
Alice stared at the phone, wondering how Lillian had gotten her number. She recovered quick enough to answer, “Yeah?”
“There’s been an accident. Can you come down to the library?”
“I’m halfway there.” Alice threw open the door and darted down the steps, only to have to turn around and go back for her keys. She was at the library as fast as she could be, ready to do what needed to be done. Few things in the world meant as much to Alice as the library. It was a haven, a small piece of celestial glory here on earth, where things were in order. She’d craved that order ever since she was a little girl. With her life crumbling around her, there was no place she’d rather be than curled up in the reading loft, knowing Lillian would maintain the quiet and return books to their shelves and the numbers would line up and the floors would be free of clutter and Alice could breathe.
Which was why, when she saw the tree limb poking through the west window, she took it personally. She wasn’t one to weep and wail, so the tears poured silently down her cheeks like a gentle, cleansing rain. She’d read once that tears cried in sadness were tainted with the chemicals in the body that created the feelings of depression and woe. Therefore, when one cried, they were literally washing away the pain. Perhaps that was why her tears drained her. And perhaps that was why her mind cleared of all the hopes she’d placed within the hallowed library walls.
Russ pulled up on his bike, breathing as if he’d sprinted. “I got a text from Lillian and came right away.”
Alice glared. He was a part of the destruction in her heart. Maybe he wasn’t the actual branch in the window, but he had figuratively delivered a blow to the library and to Harvest Ranch. “I’m surprised you came at all, since Harvest Ranch is just abump in your road to success,”she said, quoting the article.
Russ’s face turned red, and he checked to see who had heard her.
Alice rolled her eyes. The Russ she knew and loved was selfless and thoughtful and everything she thought she wanted in a man. She wasn’t sure where that guy had gone, but she wasn’t about to spend her days pining after him.
“I didn’t say those things,” he whispered urgently.
“Pfft.” Alice brushed him off with a wave of her hand. She was so angry. “What’s going on with you? You’re an—” She looked for a synonym for a curse word and finally said, “Acting different.”
“Things are changing, and I’m just trying to keep up. I just need to hang on, and all this will be worth it.”
“Are you trying to convince me or yourself?” She waited a beat. “Because I’m not buying it.”
“My career is about to take off. Gabriella …” Russ trailed off and stared at the ground.
At the mention of Hollywood’s supposed good girl, Alice tugged her jacket close as if she could ward off the chill Gabriella’s name sent through her. “No, your career is about totake over. Good luck with that. You’ve always been in love with writing; I hope it’s enough for you.”
Before he could answer, Alice flipped the hood of her jacket up and rushed into the building, her hands shaking. She’d never stood up for herself like that before, never respected herself enough to expect more than to have to beg for something.
It felt good—and awful—and awfully good.
Chapter Seventeen
Russ watched Alice walk away. Each step she took jabbed at his chest.
What was it with women this week? Gabriella went all predator on him, as if he’d compromise himself just to be with her, and Alice roared at him for wanting more out of life than a small house and a small career. Couldn’t she see what an opportunity he’d been handed? Yes, the article was absolutely over the line, but he’d learned a valuable lesson the hard way. He’d have to be more careful with his words and attitudes around Gabriella; the woman was a live wire.
But Alice wasn’t like Gabriella. Normally, she was kind and funny and saw the good in everyone. She hated confrontation. Any second now, his phone would ring, and Alice would want to make up. They weren’t the type of friends who stayed mad at one another. He couldn’t remember them ever fighting before. They disagreed about politics, but those were deep conversations, not arguments.
He was mounting his bike when his phone did, in fact, ring. He answered it quickly, sure he and Alice would be splitting a fried chicken at the café for lunch.
“Russ!” boomed Graham. “I gotta tell ya, man. I’m getting some mixed signals from you.”
Russ clenched his teeth. He’d missed two calls from Graham since the article ran Sunday morning. There were some not nice things printed about Graham, supposedly said by Russ, and Russ felt like a jerk even though he hadn’t said them. “Graham, I’m so sorry about the press. I didn’t say those things. I’m working on a retraction.” Which was an all-out lie. If he even thought about calling the article back, Gabriella would have a conniption fit. As long as the article stayed in Harvest Ranch and didn’t get out to the national press, he’d let it die a natural death.
“I didn’t think you did, really,” replied Graham like the true-blue friend he was.
Russ pressed his fingers into his eyes. “You’re the only one. Not even Alice believes me.”
“Snap! No wonder you haven’t been answering your phone.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, she’s your muse, man. If things are off, you’ve got to be struggling.”
