Joey’s jaw tightens for a second. Then he smiles again, but it doesn’t reach his eyes this time. “You deserve to be happy,” he says before he heads back into the shop.
I can’t shake the feeling that I just said the wrong thing.
I dive into the stack of invoices for the next few hours. When I’m finally caught up, I take a breath and stretch. I’ve done enough to ease my guilt over quitting. Now I just have to do the hard part. I just need to rip the Band-Aid off.
I walk into the shop area where Joey is wiping grease off his hands with a rag. He looks up, smiling when he sees me.
“All done already?”
I nod. “Can we talk?”
Something in my tone makes his smile falter, but I know those are words people never want to hear. He nods toward the office. “Sure.”
I follow him, my heart hammering against my ribs. This shouldn’t be so hard. People quit jobs all the time. Joey leans against the desk, waiting.
“I’m quitting,” I tell him. “I know it’s short notice, and I’m sorry.”
Joey stares at me for a long moment. The silence stretches, heavy and uncomfortable. I have to fight not to fidget. Then he pushes off the desk, taking a step closer to me.
“Madeline, please,” he says gently. “Is it the hours? The pay? I can fix that. Just tell me what you need, and I can fix it.”
“It’s not that,” I say, glancing away. I haven’t worked here long, so this all sounds a tad dramatic. “I’m just spread too thin. Only so many hours in a day. School, the hockey stuff, everything. I need to focus my attention on certain things.”
“Focus.” He repeats the word, and I hear the shift in his tone. It’s still friendly on the surface, but there’s an edge to it that I don’t miss. My girl senses are starting to tingle, and I trust the hell out of those. “Or is it that you’re too focused on someone?”
I don’t answer because honestly, I don’t care for the question. Joey is crossing a line now. I get that he and Luke have issues that stem from before, and he gave me his little warning. That was far enough. I don’t need him trying to bang what he believes into my head.
“Because of him,” Joey says, and it’s not a question. “That hockey player.” He’s just being rude; he knows Luke’s name.
“Joey, you don’t understand?—”
“I understand plenty.” He takes another step closer, and I don’t like it, but I stand my ground and stare him dead on. I can sense the change in him. I refuse to allow him to intimidate me.
“He’s controlling you, Madeline. Can’t you see that? First, he doesn’t want you here; next he won’t want you talking to your friends. I’ve seen guys like him?—”
“Stop.” I hold my hand out. “You don’t know anything about him. Or me. This is my choice.”
“Is it?” Joey reaches out, his hand hovering near my arm. It’s a fight not to flinch away, but I’m holding my ground because it’s starting to feel like he wants to control me.
For a second, something flashes in his eyes, cold and calculating, completely at odds with his nice-guy smile. It happens so fast I almost miss it, but then it’s gone, covered by that familiar, easy grin. “I’m sorry,” he says, dropping his hand and stepping back. “I care about you, that’s all.” That alone has the hairs on my arms standing up. He barely knows me to care this much.
Thankfully, he gives me space.
“I got the paperwork all caught up, so you should be good for a little,” I say, grabbing my stuff, the urge to get out of here strong. I no longer feel guilty about quitting. This entire interaction with Joey just lets me know I’ve made the right decision. Luke’s instincts about him were right.
“I appreciate that,” Joey says, his voice back to normal, friendly. “Thanks for everything.” I nod, stepping toward the door to leave. “And Madeline? If you ever need anything, you know where to find me. I’m always here.”
I nod again, telling him thanks before I make my escape out to the sidewalk. That was weird as shit. I tell myself I’m being paranoid, but something about that moment, that split second before the smile came back, made my skin crawl.
I check my phone, seeing the time. The innkeeper’s voice echoes in my mind, recalling how Emily kept to a routine each day.
I look up from my phone, and speak of the devil, Emily is walking past across the street with an oversized sweater and leggings on, her hair pushed back by her sunglasses that are sitting on top of her head. That’s fate, right? Walking right past me at the perfect time. It’s a sign from the universe.
She glances my way toward the open garage door where they are working on a few cars. I follow her gaze and see Joey standing inside one. Emily gives him a half-smile, and I’m unsure whether it’s the kind you give when you accidentally make eye contact with someone or when you know each other. I’m sure it’s a mix of both since she went to school here.
I shouldn’t do it, but it’s broad daylight out. I’m in the middle of town. I follow her.
Emily is half a block ahead, walking with purpose now, her head down. She turns into the coffee shop. I hang back for a minute, watching through the window as she orders at the counter then settles into a corner, pulling out a drawing pad.
