Big City Little Rebel

ChapterTwelve

Beau

He walked into Spurs with a lot more on his mind than food. The diner was busy, but he found his favorite stool at the counter empty and slid into it. The saloon-type door that separated the kitchen from the restaurant opened, and Bobbie burst through it with her arms full. When she saw him, she stopped, and one plate slid from her arm and crashed to the floor.

“Shit,” she shouted as she kicked the food aside and delivered what she had left. When she returned, she yelled into the kitchen for another chicken and tater plate. It was Monday’s blue plate special.

She pretended to ignore him, and when he tired of waiting, he stood in her path and blocked her way. “We need to talk.”

“Can’t right now. I’m busy.”

“Bobbie. Now.” He kept his voice low, but there was a razor-sharp edge to it that sliced through the air. He didn’t wait for her to concede. He took her hand and led her down the hallway. When they were out of earshot, he let loose. “Where are the damn result letters?” With her back against the wall, he caged her between his arms. “They’re going to close the site if I don’t produce them by Wednesday.” He planned to hold her there until he got answers.

She looked at him with her big brown eyes and said, “Neutral zone.”

Hearing those two words was like getting slapped in the face. They’d established neutral territory, and he’d disregarded it. It still didn’t diminish his need to get answers, so he took her hand and walked her outside the front door into open territory.

“Bobbie, I need those letters. You know I have everything riding on this job. If I can’t close on that house for my mom, she’ll never be able to heal. Don’t you get it?”

“I do, Beau. I get it, but it doesn’t change how I feel about things. I don’t want your mom to suffer any more than I want you to suffer, but I want Pete Schiff to suffer.” Tears were flowing freely down her face. “I’m stuck between caring about you and being true to my mom.” She leaned in and gently kissed his lips. “I’ll have your letters for you tonight. I’m sorry.”

“Bobbie, we can’t continue this thing we have if the only neutral places are Spurs and my bed. I’m stuck too. My mom is fragile, and for me to pull the rug from under her would send her back to the bottle. For the first time in my life, I can do something that makes a difference. Don’t take that away from me.” He cupped her cheeks and looked deep into her defeated eyes.

“The thing is, you’re not free, Beau. You think you’re in control, but you’re not. You’re a pawn in Pete Schiff’s game, and as for your mother, she may not be here with you, but you’re still parenting her.” She poked him in the chest. “You’ll never be free until you let her go. I gotta go back to work.” She pressed her head into his chest and wrapped her arms around his waist. There was a finality to the hug, and it rocked him to his core. He wasn’t ready to give up on what they had. He wasn’t prepared to set his mother free. He wasn’t willing to sacrifice his dream of re-creating Westhaven Construction. As far as Aspen Construction was concerned, they were a means to an end.

Thoughts of Bobbie and her words accompanied him home. He didn’t walk with purpose. He walked with dread. Everything was changing too fast, and his perfect little world was collapsing around him.

Cable and Internet had been hooked up that afternoon, so he pulled his laptop from the closet and logged on. Bobbie had been on him to do his homework, and if he was honest with himself, he only knew the story people told him. Dad used to tell him not to believe any of what he heard and only half of what he saw because the truth was often found somewhere in the middle. He imagined that was his dad’s way of telling him to remain open-minded.

Google informed him that Pete Schiff and Todd Hundley had a long-term partnership. Todd Hundley had been the leading investor in Paradox Construction, the company causing all his woes with Bobbie. Paradox was an interesting name for a company with so many problems.

He read every article he could find. It took some deep digging to locate anything that could make him second-guess his decisions.

A tiny little blip in the Denver Sentinel accused Paradox of purchasing fraudulent reports. The source was listed as B. Cruise. Of course, Bobbie would be right in the middle. Had losing her mother skewed her sense of justice?

The computer powered down when he closed it. He could honestly say he’d done his homework. After pulling the leftover pizza from the refrigerator, he sat on the couch. There wasn’t a room or a surface that didn’t remind him of Bobbie.

What was it he and Bobbie had? Great sex was at the top of the list, but was their attraction and connection based solely on it? Spending time with her without sex was still appealing. Her strength, determination, and sense of humor were things to admire. She was fearless, and yet she was fragile. He closed his eyes and reimagined her body covered only by a poster board. That right there took confidence and courage. She was willing to put herself out there for what she believed in.

He loved her patience when she was trying to help him master chopsticks. She cradled his head in her lap when he needed to be held and silently encouraged him. The truth was, he was falling in love with her. She’d wound her way around his heart in a week and turned his world upside down.

When his phone rang, he flew off the cushion by inches. It was a normal ringtone, and he didn’t do standard ringtones. Everyone had a ringtone explicitly picked for them. This was a local number, which could mean anything from a problem at the site to Bobbie.

“Hello.”

“Beau.” Bobbie’s voice was small.

“Bobbie, what do you need, sweetheart?”

Her voice shook. “You, Beau. I need you.”

He was out the door and running to the diner. “I’m on my way. Stay there, Bobbie.” He was still on the phone with her when he turned the corner and saw her standing in front of Spurs. He’d forgotten they closed at seven on Mondays. He was awful at this boyfriend stuff.

When Bobbie saw him, she slid down the wall and buried her face in her hands. “I’m so sorry. I’m ruining what we have with my obsession.”

He slid down beside her and pulled her into his lap. “Sweetheart, nothing is ruined. We have to figure this out together. No more neutral zones. We have to talk, and no more avoiding me.” When he rose, he pulled her to her feet and wrapped his arms around her. “Did you eat?”

“No.” She leaned into him and inhaled.