Saugatuck Summer (Saugatuck, #1)(33)

I hesitated in the doorway for one silent, uncertain moment. Lightning flashed again, illuminating us in startling white light, and a moment later, thunder cracked like a shotgun blast.

Each time I stood on this precipice, it seemed a little easier to jump. I think he must have felt the same, because after a long, solemn stare, he held his hand out to me.

I closed the door behind me and took it.





Tired of waiting

So tired of all this waiting

So long I’ve been here hating

What I’ve become and hating

What doesn’t change

And more what does

I cannot change what I am now

—Casey Stratton, “Waiting”

Fortune was with us, it seemed. Mo decided to spend her next weekend off in Big Rapids with her pretty archery instructor.

“You sure you don’t hate me for not coming down?” her voice asked over my phone as I searched town for the art gallery she’d mentioned. “I can swing by there for a day, then come back up to Big Rapids . . .”

“No, no!” I was probably a little too quick to assure her that wasn’t necessary. Fate, or whatever higher power you chose to believe in, had granted me a reprieve. I wouldn’t have to face her and confess yet, or perhaps worse, try to hide what Brendan and I had done while pretending everything was normal, going back to sleep in my attic room alone while she was in the house. “Are you kidding? If Archer McLovelyArms wants you to spend the whole weekend, you go, girl. Get you some.”

She snorted. “His name’s Cody Rey.”

I quirked an eyebrow, even though she wasn’t here, and for the first time in the entire conversation, banter didn’t feel forced.

“You sure he’s an archer? Sounds more like a gunslinger. Just what exactly is he packing?”

It took Mo a few minutes to stop laughing and catch her breath. “I’ll let you know next week.” We giggled together for a moment longer, then: “Did you stop by the art gallery?”

“I’m actually on my way there now, if I can locate the damn place.”

“Oh good! Yay!” She sounded far too delighted by this information, and proceeded to give me directions.

“Okay, I gotta go,” I said, spotting the gallery ahead. “Call me next week, give me all the gory details.”

She said good-bye, and I tucked away my phone before walking into the gallery.

The first thing I noticed was that there was no Help Wanted sign in the window. Well, great. I’d waited too long and the position had already been filled, which meant there went the best chance I’d had at finding a job here in town. The tips at the coffeehouse and the occasional one-or two-day temp jobs weren’t nearly enough. I needed something steady.

Guess that’s what I got for spending a week doing the nasty with a man I shouldn’t have even considered touching. I should probably have counted on a lot of karmic kicks in the teeth in the foreseeable future.

A bell chimed as I walked in, and after a moment, a heavily pregnant woman of Asian descent waddled from the back room. She gave me a scrutinizing once-over, discerning immediately that I wasn’t there to shop for paintings.

“Can I help you?”

“Um, maybe?” I bit my lip for a moment, suddenly unsure. “A friend of mine told me she saw a Help Wanted sign here a couple weeks back, but I guess the position has already been filled? If it has, then perhaps I can put in a résumé in case you need any more help in the future?”

The woman looked at me again and began to smile, tapping two fingertips to her curving lips.

“I think your friend was trying to matchmake. There hasn’t been a Help Wanted sign in the window here in two years.”

I blinked in confusion, looking her over, because hello? Woman. Definitely not anyone Mo would ever try to match me up with.

“Um, no. No no no. My friend wouldn’t . . . She knows that I’m . . .”

“Oh, not with me.” The woman’s eyes sparkled with more amusement. “With the gallery owner, Robin Brady. He’s gay, and very good-looking, and, sorry to say, one hundred percent taken.”

“Ah. And that, Your Honor, is when I snapped and strangled my best friend.” I closed my eyes and gritted my teeth for a moment. “Yeah, um. Mo probably meant well, but . . . yeah. Sorry for taking up your time.”

Thank God no one could tell I was blushing. I turned on my heel, prepared to try to beat as dignified a retreat as I could manage.

“Though now that you mention it—” Her voice stopped me with my hand on the door. “I start my maternity leave in a few weeks, and Robin will be looking for help, though I doubt he’s actually realized that yet. He’s still taken, but if you’d like to leave that résumé, I’ll recommend he call you to set up an interview.”

“Great!” I nodded eagerly, extending my hand. “By the way, hi. I’m Topher Carlisle.”

“I’m Ling Gilchrest, Robin’s sister-in— well, not-quite-law.” She shook my hand and accepted the résumé I pulled out of a portfolio in my backpack, promising Robin would call me when he got back from a buying trip to Chicago.

“Thank you.” I smiled at her, pleased to have found something resembling an opportunity. “If you find out about anywhere else hiring, you know, just some general help, feel free to pass my number along to them, too.”