Piper peels the other set of fake lashes from the other eye. “So, don’t let him find out.”
“Right. Because it’s that simple. Just don’t let him discover the truth.”
“Well, if he’s healthy enough that he wants to get back to normal life, surely, you could tell him you’re not the real fiancée!”
“Maybe. But have you ever had someone’s life depending on you?”
Piper shrugs. “Good point. Sorry I’m grumpy. I guess I’m just scared we won’t be able to get that business loan with only my work.”
Now I feel like a complete jerk. Piper and I have made plans to start our own restaurant and distillery. Unfortunately, it takes quite a bit of capital to start something like that, and we have both been working full-time so that we can qualify for a business loan together. However, with me losing my job last week…it’s going to put us behind—a lot.
“I’m so sorry, Piper. I didn’t mean for this to happen.”
She sighs. “I know. Your boss is awful, so we should have expected something like this. But I guess I’m just nervous about how this will change our plans.”
“I’ll figure something out. Maybe I’ll be able to get my job back, and then it wouldn’t look like any interrupted work history.”
Piper’s face brightens. “That’s a great idea! We’re just so close to making it happen.”
“It’ll happen.” I walk into the kitchen and open the fridge. I scan the shelves and settle on pulling out the butter and milk.
“Please tell me you’re stress baking.”
“I’m stress baking.”
“Hallelujah! Save me something tasty for after my shift.”
The cinnamon rolls are delicious. The new maple frosting I made is to die for. The more stressed I am, the better I bake. It’s a direct correlation.
CHAPTER 15
Nash
The day is brighter.Grandpa is getting stronger every day and has moved on to eating full meals. It’s put some good color back into his face.
Mary looks like she’s finally gotten a hint of sleep, the doctor hovers less, and Grandpa hasn’t mentioned money since his near-death experience. Instead, he’s been regaling me with stories of my father as a boy. A boy he loved to take to board meetings, even with his mischievous leanings.
He tells one particular story of Dad hiding in a cabinet at the office and scaring one of the board members when they opened the door to get something.
Grandpa laughs heartily as he tells it but then stops abruptly when he glances at his bedroom door.
Kevin stands in the doorway, looking disapproving. I still haven’t had a chance to corner him and ask why he pulled that fire alarm. I’d love to get into it right now, but I don’t want to add any stress for Grandpa.
Kevin’s disapproving look has been frozen in placeafter years of practice. I don’t think he’s capable of looking any other way.
“Nash, you’re exhausting Alexander! I knew we couldn’t trust you here with him. You’ll manage to kill him if you can.”
I squelch my initial urge to blast a retort back at him. Instead, I shake my head, pat Grandpa’s hand, and say, “Have a nice visit.”
I make it to the door before he calls to me, “Bring Magnolia for cards later.”
Kevin splutters and protests, and I wonder if I could manage to never see him again.
The equation working in my head doesn’t add up, because as long as there’s money involved, Kevin will be involved.
I slip out the door after propping it open.
James and Jackie are standing in the hall. Kevin and Judith’s kids.
