Folk Around and Find Out (Good Folk: Modern Folktales #2)(41)

“I don’t know. Why does it matter? You both broke up with me.”

“You seem to like those things. And are we sweet? Are we too sweet? Are we witty? Do we get embarrassed often?”

“I have no idea.”

She hit the table again. “And yet, you dated both of us. Tell me Hank, why did you like me for so long?”

My gaze lost focus and drifted over Patty again, not wanting to answer because the first thing that popped into my head was you’re impressive.

Licking my lips, I said, “You’re pretty. And honest. Hardworking—you have a solid work ethic. And . . .”

A small, superior-sounding chuckle left her. Giving her back my attention, I found her shaking her head.

“Face it. You like Charlotte. You like who she is as a person. You’re attracted to her personality as much as you’re attracted to her body and beauty. You’re used to making judgments about worth based on shallow factors, based on what you think you should like rather than what you actually like, and that’s why you feel conflicted.”

“That’s bullshit. You make it sound like you and Genevieve and Sienna are shallow. You’re not.”

Ignoring me, she added, “Your parents and that stupid boarding school you went to brainwashed you to only notice people based on how good they look on paper. Yeah, you fought against it tooth and nail, but it seeped in. Deep down, you’re not like that, not really. If you were, why would Beau Winston still be your best friend?”

“Are you kidding me?” I curled my lip. “Everybody likes Beau. He’s awesome.”

“Yes. In Green Valley, everyone loves Beau. But if you were to take Beau to a dinner party with your old boarding school chums, he’s a local auto mechanic and that would make him the butt of every snobby joke. If you were to take Charlotte, she’s a divorced single mom of four kids, college dropout, and teacher’s aide. That’s who she is on paper. She’d hardly fare better than Beau—or you. You’re a strip club owner from BFE Tennessee. You’d both be sneered at, whereas you take me with my PhDs from Baylor, or Genevieve with her degree from Princeton and impressive court record, or Sienna and her Oscar, and everyone would immediately agree we belong there.”

“Wait a minute. You—” I had trouble drawing in a full breath. Patty’s true meaning finally permeated, leaving me feeling shitty. “You’re not like that.”

“I’m not. Nor is Genevieve or Sienna. Which was ultimately why we all broke up with you. None of us wanted to be a trophy.”

My lips parted along with the clouds in my mind, the mysteries of my previous failures revealed. “You thought I was using you?” My voice turned dusty. “I was using you for your impressiveness?”

That was my parents’ modus operandi and I’d done everything in my power to never be anything like either of them. This revelation felt like being sucker-punched.

“No, and yes. You weren’t using me on purpose. But if you’re honest with yourself, you would admit that you weren’t really attracted to me either.”

I swallowed, looking beyond her. “I was—”

“You weren’t.”

Her declaration had me focusing on her again.

She smiled at me like was I cute. “You thought I was pretty, and I am pretty, but my knee freckles never drove you to distraction. You never waxed poetic about my legs and sweetness while in a bar sitting across from your ex-girlfriend.”

“Fine. You have me there.” I released a tremendous breath, the simmering discomfort in my chest intensifying. “What do I do about Charlotte?”

“Oh, honey.” Patty made a soft, sad clicking noise with her tongue. “There’s nothing to do other than try to see her as a friend, try to curtail your attraction, and end those feelings before they grow too big. It’s only been about a week. Who knows?” She shrugged. “It could go away on its own.”

I took another swig of my beer. That seems unlikely. How was I supposed to stop being attracted to someone I didn’t want to be attracted to in the first place?

“Hank, you know nothing can ever happen between you two, right?” Patty tilted her head, inspecting me from a new angle.

“I know.” Using my thumbnail, I picked at the corner of the damp label at the back of my beer bottle. “I’m her boss, and unless she quit—”

“No. That’s not what I mean.”

This earned her a raised eyebrow. “I’m not asking out my employee, Patty. That would be highly unprofessional.”

She lifted her hands up, showing me her palms. “Sure. But even if she weren’t your employee, or you didn’t have high standards in the workplace, the main issue is her kids.”

“What’s wrong with her kids? Her having kids doesn’t bother me.”

Patty glared at me like I was a dummy. “Nothing is wrong with her kids, but they are part of a package deal. Charlotte can’t ever be in a relationship with you for the same reason she can’t be a stripper.”

I blinked, confused, and then I flinched. Patty’s meaning finally dawned on my thick-as-molasses brain.

Well, fuckity fuck fuck fuck. A hot breath vacated my lungs, and my mouth curved with a bitter twist. I felt raw.

Of course.

Charlotte couldn’t be with me. Not ever. She was 100% saint and I was 100% sinner, an undesirable in this town. I’d made certain to earn the title with every methodically subversive choice I’d made since turning twelve. And hell, I’d gleefully worn my badge of dishonor, prideful of my place as a thorn in the sides of polite society and decent folk while succeeding in a business they hated but couldn’t do anything about.