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“Beth can,” Vivien said.
“Already been there—and I’m the interim ACD. Not a wrangler.”
Courtney tapped her lips with her finger. “I don’t think your case against Grayson will stand. Noah’s not going to fire him because you have personal issues.”
The energy seeped out of Beth. “I know,” she whispered. Once all the indigence had faded away, her case against Grayson stood on the sole fact that she’d been humiliated by him.
Twelve years prior.
And no, Noah wasn’t going to risk his camp over that, and neither could she.
“But you do still need an assistant, right?” Vivien asked. “What about Walter? He was the wrangler forever.”
“He’s out of state visiting family until after the Fourth of July,” Courtney said, “but there is Johnny Lane. He used to work there as an assistant, right?”
Beth shook her head. “I called him last night when I got home. He works in Duluth now.”
“Who did Jesse have slated to help him?”
“Usually there are a few high schoolers interested, but the last two moved away for college in the fall. Neither one is coming back for summer.” Beth groaned. “With Jesse being on medical leave, it hadn’t occurred to him to put feelers out for new staffing.”
“So Grayson’s doing it himself?”
“You did point out how capable he is.” Beth took three glasses from the cupboard and poured milk in all three, then passed them out.
“Thanks,” Courtney answered. “Wouldn’t he be better than none? What’s the big deal with him? Assuming he didn’t actually cause a bunch of kids to get hurt…it seems like your beef is a little more…personal.”
She couldn’t argue with Courtney’s point. “We have a history.” Beth slumped. She might as well tell them now.
“Oh?” Vivien and Courtney perked up, leaning forward.
“From before we all were friends. High school.” Beth looked down, collected herself, then met their expectant gazes. “It was an incredibly stupid thing.”
Courtney took a drink. “Okay. Spill.”
“Did either of you ever go to a pit party?”
Vivien wiped her fingers on a napkin. “You mean those teen parties just outside of town with underage drinking and excessive stupidity?”
“Never,” Courtney answered. “Never, not ever.”
“I’ll take that as a yes,” Beth said. “For both of you.” She blew out a breath. Swallowed. “When I was a sophomore, my dad went out of town for a men’s retreat. These girls I’d been hanging out with invited me.” She shook her head. “It was a dumb thing to do.”
Courtney wiped her fingers on a napkin. “We all learn that at some point.”
“Yeah, well, I was so naive. The punch was spiked, and I’d had way too much. I remember dancing on the hood of someone’s car.”
“Oh.” Vivien’s eyes were round. “I’m having a hard time picturing that. I mean, you were…you—and I mean that in the best way possible. Sweet. Responsible. Maybe a little sheltered.”
Beth closed her eyes. “Yeah. Well, Grayson showed up at some point and saw me.”
“What was he—a senior?”
“Yep. And Dylan’s best friend.” Beth tucked a loose lock of hair behind her ear. “I mean, we’d known each other for years, but the summer before that school year, he grew up. Filled out.” Beth could still see him that night.
White T-shirt. Blue jeans. Fresh haircut.
And those eyes that turned her teen self into a puddle anytime he came near.
