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ChapterNine
TESS
Spencer Crane has lost his mind. It’s the only conclusion I can draw. That or someone dropped a dumbbell on his head the last time he worked out. You know we joined the Springfield Fitness Center at the exact same time. But that was a coincidence. I wasn’t running after Spencer. I was simply trying to be more disciplined about my workout schedule. Turns out discipline doesn’t really work for me. So, I never even saw Spencer at the gym. Until a week ago, I’d never seen him with his shirt off. If I’d known how effective the Fitness Center could be, I might’ve kept my membership a bit longer.
But enough about Spencer’s body.
His mind has totally atrophied.
Did he really just say he’d order meone of everything?That is nuts. Beverly’s Beanery has fifty kinds of coffee drinks on their chalkboard. In both hotandcold options. And their food menu is almost as extensive. But that’s not the point. The point is, I need to figure out why Spencer is acting so… let’s call itshifty…
I’m going to investigate.
So I slide off my chair, planning to head over to ask him what’s going on, but he catches my eye first, waving me off like I shouldn’t come over. Then he pulls his phone from the pocket of his jeans.
I didn’t know Spencer even owned a pair of jeans. And this pair fits him perfectly. Add that to the list of things that have shocked me about him this past week. He points at his phone, mouthingtext me. So I slip my phone from my purse—the one I’d hung from a table hook like he asked me to—and I send him a message. Straight to the point.
Me:What is WRONG with you today?
Clark Kent: How about a chocolate croissant and a caramel macchiato?
Me:That’s not an answer to my question.
I hit send then realize a chocolate croissant and a caramel macchiato does sound kind of amazing.
Me:On second thought, you can order a croissant and macchiato for me. Please. But you’re still being weird.
Clark Kent:I’m not weird.
Me:Agree to disagree.
I hop back onto my seat and shove my phone into my purse. Then I play around with the napkin dispenser and the tiny dish with different kinds of sugar packets in it. Splenda. As if that name will convince me a fake sweetener is splendid. I’ll take regular sugar, please. And all the caffeine. Usually.
But if I have regular coffee now, I’ll be up. All. Night. Long. And I can’t afford to be exhausted going into my first week as camp director. We’ve got a hundred kids signed up. Ten counselors, two lifeguards, and one cook. And I’m in charge of all of them.
A cold prickle breaks out at the base of my neck. Maybe I’m not as ready for this job as I think I am. And Spencer won’t be arriving until after nine each night. I’m already tired just thinking about waiting for backup.
So I absolutely need sleep tonight. Which means I need decaf.
I glance at the counter where Frank and Alice have just finished ordering. Spencer’s already talking to Bev, who grabs a Sharpie and two giant coffee cups to write our names on. No time to fish my phone from my purse again. Instead I hurry across the coffee shop and insert myself between Spencer and the counter.
“Can you please make the one for Tess a decaf?” I ask Bev. Then I glance at Spencer, who’s darting his focus between Frank and me. He’s intense and twitchy, which makes me feel intense and twitchy. Forget the caffeine. I’m already thrown off balance. “Sorry, I just… I needed decaf,” I tell him.
“I heard.” His teeth are gritted, and his eyes are flinty. “Can I finish ordering now?”
“Be my guest,” I say, stepping away from the counter to make room for him. Unfortunately, I back straight into Alice.
“Sorry, Tess,” she says. Her voice lisps softly at the end. I’d say she’s a blue-eyed blonde, but her coloring is moresee-throughthan anything.The woman is sweet, but she’s also sheer. Pale. Transparent, even.
“Don’t apologize,” I say. “I bumped into you.” Alice blinks and offers up a small smile. She’s the kind of woman you’d imagine blowing away in a stiff wind. Next to her, I feel like a boulder.
A boulder in danger of causing major landslides.
Alice graduated from Apple Valley High the year my sisters and I were freshman. Our father hired her that summer as an administrative assistant. When we lost Dad, and Mac took over as CEO, Alice was mostly assisting my brother and Nash.
Then I started working there.
The whole time, I couldn’t stop thinking the other employees didn’t like me very much. Maybe because I was hired without an interview. Or maybe I was just succumbing to insecurity. Either way, I kept imagining everyone at McCoy giving me the side-eye whenever I turned my back. I wanted to stand on the conference room table and shout: “It’s not my fault I’m Ted McCoy’s daughter!”
