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“I’m going to break more than my laptop if I stay here any longer.”
“No one wants to surf more than I do. But I got a ton of things to catch up on after being out most of last week. I imagine you do too.”
That’s the thing.
I do have a shit ton on my plate. I got calls with my bankers. Spreadsheets to review. Some personnel bullshit to deal with here at Stede’s. Emails and project updates and strategy meetings with my business development and marketing teams.
Ordinarily I’d tackle it all gladly. Nothing energized me more than making moves. Making money.
Seemed like a good way to stay busy.
Now busy just seems . . . empty. The dreams I worked so hard to make come true feel fucking empty without the people I love in them.
This gaping hole in my chest—it’s always been there. Being with Lu just made me aware of it. She also taught me how to fill it.
Work and money are never, ever going to fill it on their own.
“What’s the point?” I blurt.
Tuck’s eyes go wide. “Of working?”
“Of life. It can’t be work. Or just work. Like, the point of why we work so hard—it’s so we can enjoy life, right? Enjoy the dreams we made come true. And I am not enjoying any of this one fuckin’ iota without Lu here.”
He’s staring at me now. “Okay,” he says slowly. “Do I need to call 911? I’m worried you’re having an episode.” Tuck glances at Tom. “Your daddy been acting strange? Complaining of chest pains, numbness, and/or hallucinations?”
“I worked hard. Now I wanna enjoy the fruits of my labor with the woman I love. Only, I’m not sure she’s in love with me.”
“She is.” Tuck’s tone is definitive. “Are you kidding? Lu’s head over heels for you, dude. We all saw the way she looks at you. Sounds like she’s just in a weird place right now. You want her, you gotta be patient.”
I tug my hands through my hair again. “And if I die in the meantime?”
“You ain’t gonna die.”
“What if she decides she loves me, but she can’t do it? Make a life with me? I got money, but I’ll never be a part of the world she grew up in back in Charlotte. Her pedigree opens doors to country clubs and alumni associations and board rooms that would never in a million years welcome a high school graduate like me with no family connections. That world, it has this pull on her. Her parents. Her friends . . . they’re all part of a club I’ll never, ever belong to.”
“She chooses that world, you’re better off without her. But knowing Lu, she’s gonna choose you. Be. Patient.”
I chain smoke cigarettes on the way to Marsha Marsha Marsha. The storm finally cleared out overnight, leaving behind blue skies and a cool breeze.
Perfect walking weather. And swimming weather. And cruising weather, and fucking weather . . .
“You smell like an ashtray.” Mom pulls back from our hug, nose wrinkled. “Please don’t tell me you’re smoking again.”
I drape an arm over her shoulders. “Okay. I’m not smoking again.”
“I see that pack of Camels in your back pocket!” Marsha calls from behind the register. “Throw them away this instant, Riley.”
Mom frowns. “I’m going to have to speak to Woody about selling you those cancer sticks.”
“He didn’t sell them to me. I stole them. I paid for them, of course, but Woody wasn’t exactly there when I visited the store.”
“A gentleman thief!” Mrs. Underwood appears beside the candle display. “How very Thomas Crowne of you.”
I chuckle. “Pierce Brosnan would beg to differ. Beautiful ceremony on Saturday, by the way, Mrs. Underwood.”
“Thank you. It was such a lovely wedding, wasn’t it? You’re awfully good at making them happen, Riley.”
“For other people,” I reply.
Mom squeezes my arm. “For everyone who wants one.”
“Welp, I’m starving,” I lie. “It’s been real, y’all. Mom, let’s go grab a sandwich.”
We head for the little deli beside Marsha Marsha Marsha. I pick at my pimiento cheese sandwich on the patio outside.
“So.” Mom wipes her hands on a paper napkin.
“So.”
“Lu is back in Charlotte.”
“And I’m here.”
“And y’all are going to see each other again . . .”
“I wish I knew.” I lift the bread off the sandwich. “It’s killing me, Mom. Not being in control.”
Her eyes are kind as she looks at me from across the table. “One of the best things about you, Riley Dixon, is that you’ve always known what you want. You’ve also been very, very lucky in that you’ve been able to get what you want. Granted, you’ve worked very hard for it. But ultimately, you’ve gotten what you asked for. Now, though . . .”
I swallow. “I’m not sure I’ve ever wanted anything more than I want Lu.”
“Oh, honey.” She grabs my hand. “I can see you’re hurting. I’m very sorry.”
