Nothing But This (Broken Pieces 2)

The other guy’s mouth twitched slightly. “About forty minutes.”

Greyson stared at him in disbelief. “You should have said something.”

The man shrugged in response to that. “No harm done.” He sorted through the many items Greyson had offloaded onto the counter but didn’t comment on the—now that Greyson looked at it—ridiculous amount of sportswear.

“Uh, I noticed you have a gym.”

“Hmmm,” the man rumbled, his eyes on his task.

“Do I need a membership card or something?”

The guy’s piercing green gaze lifted to Greyson’s. “Moving to town?”

“Not really, but I may be here awhile.”

“Spencer Carlisle.” He held out his hand, and Greyson, bemused by the unceremonious introduction, took his hand in a firm handshake. Since the store was called Carlisle Sporting Solutions, this guy had to be the owner.

“Greyson Chapman,” he responded with equal brevity.

“A flat fee will cover three months.”

“How many visits?”

“Unlimited.”

Greyson nodded. That seemed like a good deal. “I’ll come by on Monday to sign up. Do all the other businesses in this town close at one on a Saturday?”

“Grocery store and hardware store will be open for another couple of hours.” He finally finished ringing up and bagging the mountain of clothes and whistled appreciatively at the final total.

Greyson handed over his card, and once their business was complete, he nodded at the man. “Thanks for staying open.”

“Worth it,” Spencer said with a quick grin. He didn’t appear to be a man of many words, which Greyson could appreciate. “Where are you staying?”

Greyson told him, and the man winced. “Place is a dump.”

“I know.”

“My sister-in-law’s house is available for rent.”

“I didn’t see any other vacant places when I was looking for short-term rentals.”

“Word of mouth only. You interested, contact the vet, my father-in-law.”

Oh, Greyson was definitely interested. He couldn’t wait to get out of that hovel and now wondered if Harris had chosen it solely because Martine lived next door.

“Sounds great. Thanks. I’ll see you on Monday.”

The man nodded and unlocked the front door to let Greyson out.

It was bucketing down by now, and Greyson dashed for his car, dumping his packages with the other pile of shopping in the back. After he pulled away from the curb, he headed downtown, then cruised slowly past MJ’s, hoping to catch a glimpse of Olivia. He seriously considered going inside to talk to her again.

He shook his head and drove to the grocery store instead. He passed the hardware store on the way, and a plan started to formulate in his head.

Tina wasn’t there at the start of dinner service either. Now more concerned than angry, Libby tried to reach her again. She couldn’t leave to go check on Tina, so she kept sending increasingly anxious messages.

Finally, just after seven, her phone rang, and she was relieved to see her friend’s name on the screen.

“Tina? What the hell? Are you okay? Where are you?”

“Hey, Libby. I’m so sorry. I came home to do some work, and I fell asleep. My phone died, so I got none of your messages until now.”

Libby drew in a deep, calming breath at her friend’s response. Her friend’s lying response. How could she have gotten any work done when her laptop was still in the office? And she’d been sleeping? Sleeping while they worked through two services without her? What in the actual—?

“Charlie told me you left when Clara wouldn’t stop crying,” Libby said, inserting some serious frost into her voice as she finally reached the end of her tether.

“I need to . . . I’m sorry. I needed to concentrate.”

Libby squeezed her eyes shut at that response. Hating the way it made her feel. The resentment, anger, and hurt. Clara had already been rejected by her own father. Tina purported to love the baby, but this didn’t feel like love to Libby.

“I’m sorry I left,” Tina continued when Libby swallowed back the angry words she longed to toss at the woman. She felt like a protective mother bear with a wounded cub. She wasn’t prepared to subject her baby to any further negativity. “I’ll be right over. God, this is so . . .” Whatever Tina had been about to say faded into nothing, and the silence hung awkwardly between them for another beat.

“I’ll see you soon.” Libby knew she sounded cold, but she wasn’t prepared to pander to any more of Tina’s weird behavior.

“Fifteen minutes,” Tina promised before disconnecting the call. Libby shook her head and shoved her phone back into her pocket before focusing her attention back on her kitchen. It was up to her to make up for Tina’s complete lack of professionalism. She wasn’t sure what she was going to do, but she knew she could no longer have her baby around Tina’s negative energy.

She was busy garnishing a dark chocolate mousse when she heard Tina’s timid voice coming from behind her nearly twenty minutes later. Libby’s head snapped up, and she pinned her so-called friend with a cool look before calling Agnes over to step in, interrupting whatever lame apology Tina had been in the middle of uttering.