The Pepper in the Gumbo (Men of Cane River #1)(79)
“Oh, no. Ruthless?” Paul sat forward, trying to type and talk at the same time. “Nothing like me.”
“Sure she is. Maybe it’s the Southern charm. She’s soft-spoken― wait, until we poke holes in her mantel piece.”
“She didn’t even yell.” Paul flinched inwardly at the memory. She’d forgiven him but he still felt bad.
“True. But I guess it’s more about how she’s so concerned for how things should be, like she’s from a hundred years ago. People don’t act like that now. I get the feeling she really didn’t want to sue, but she was doing it for some kind of ideal, the greater good.” Andy seemed like he was just warming up. “She’s making a sacrifice. Everyone’s going to be angry, but she went ahead with it because she believes she’s right. Even if she suffers for it.”
“Beau geste,” Paul mumbled.
“What?”
“It’s from a book. Here, should I say, ‘inconsequential lawsuit,’ or ‘minor legal speed bump’?”
“The second one,” Andy said.
“Okay, almost done.” He wanted Andy to stop trying to figure out Alice’s motivations and how she was working against herself. His sleep-deprived mind couldn’t tangle with the problem anymore. He had a company to drag out of the internet gossip sites.
Chapter Twenty-Three
“Once a new part of technology rolls over you, if you’re not part of the steamroller,
you’re part of the road.”― Stewart Brand
Alice ran her hand over Van Winkle’s sleeping body and tried to sense the usual peace of a Saturday morning spent in By the Book. The bright, fall sun shone through the side windows, and the familiar scent of old books and good coffee filled the air. It should have been the most perfect of mornings, but all she felt was a knot in her stomach and an ache behind her eyes.
She hadn’t slept well. She hadn’t heard anything from Paul, hadn’t even glimpsed him in the hallway. Of course he wouldn’t want to talk to her, but somewhere inside there had been a tiny spark of hope that he could separate this lawsuit from the two of them. It had been foolish to expect that kind of charity. Her whole body felt heavy and sluggish with the knowledge.
She’d paired a dark blue silk top with delicate pearl buttons, and a fitted skirt. It usually made her feel pretty and feminine. Today, nothing could shift her mood. The only thing she had to look forward to was Charlie coming in for the day.
Alice treasured their weekend girl time, with no interruptions from Bix and his unintentionally embarrassing remarks. They would sort inventory, or pore over catalogues, chatting like only two book-lovers could. Charlie would try to convince Alice to read something with a dragon or a broadsword on the cover, while Alice would try to convince Charlie to read something else, anything else. When they closed, Alice treated Charlie to dinner at Babet’s Diner. Charlie reminded Alice so much of herself at that age. Charlie’s family was happy and intact, but something about Charlie’s teenage worries reminded Alice of the girl she’d been, raised by a mamere in a house full of older brothers. Sometimes, a girl needed to talk to someone who wasn’t related, and Alice was happy to be that person. Not that she had a lot of life experience, but she tried her best.
“Miss Alice,” Charlie said, already talking as she came through the door. “I won’t be helping you today. Or any other day. I can’t believe you kept ScreenStop from opening.” She was panting with anger.
Alice stood up, struggling to switch between the idea of a normal Saturday in the store with Charlie, and the angry girl who stood before her. “Okay, come sit down and let’s talk. Let me explain why I―”
“No!” Charlie crossed her arms over her chest. “I always thought you were cool, bein’ a girl and havin’ your own store. But that’s not really important, is it? It’s about how we treat each other.”
“But I had a reason for the lawsuit. It’s not what you―”
“You can’t explain it. Not in any way that changes what you did. I just can’t believe you’d do this to Paul, especially after how he offered that grand prize for the scavenger hunt. You just don’t get it and you never will.” Charlie turned back toward the door, blond hair flying out behind her.
Alice stood there, shock coursing through her. She reached for her necklace, and realized for the hundredth time that her parents’ rings weren’t there. Their loss made every situation worse, like a second wave of pain.
Paul had won over everyone in town in just a few weeks. He’d given Bix an e-reader and suddenly Bix was on Paul’s side. Charlie had been sucked into the promise of a party with some kind of big prize. She tried to think clearly, but anger spiked inside. Paul thought he could buy off the world. Maybe that’s why he’d bought the Arthur Rackham portfolio the very first day. For just one horrible moment she wondered if his interest in her was part of a plan, if his kisses had an ulterior motive. She brushed the thought away. Paul would have to be a sociopath to be so appear so generous and noble, but be so scheming in real life.
The little bell on the door jingled and Mrs. Olivier walked through. She carried a large leather tote and was dressed in a pale-blue linen pantsuit. Alice stood up, but didn’t speak, feeling like a frog on the highway in the headlights of an oncoming truck. Last night, Mrs. Olivier had been polite, if a bit blunt. This morning might be a completely different matter.