“Are you okay?” he asks.
“Fine,” I say, holding a hand against my chest as the air begins to stream more evenly into my lungs. “Sorry. That visual was just disgusting.”
He sips the wine, looking halfway proud of himself for grossing me out.
“Is that what you do all day?” I ask, gathering myself.
“What?”
“I don’t know. Inspect ferret poop?”
“I’ll do whatever duty calls me to do, and today it was making sure a teenage boy’s pet ferret wasn’t bleeding from its ass.” He holds the glass in front of him and swirls the liquid around. “The boy—Patrick, I think his name was—thinks I’m a rock star now, though. So there’s that.”
“Now I get it. You love your job because people think you’re brilliant and it feeds your ego.”
He raises his glass to me before taking a drink. I shake my head and try not to watch the way his Adam’s apple bobs in his throat.
The refrigerator hums softly, but other than that, the house is quiet. Whether it’s from the moonlight coming in through the windows or the wine hitting my veins, I don’t know, but a warmth settles over me. It’s a slight haze that I welcome with open arms.
“What’s all that?” Holden nods to the stuffed file folder next to me.
I eye it like it’s my mortal enemy. “A bunch of stuff I have to deal with.”
“Like . . .”
“Like it’s none ya.”
“Huh?”
“It’s none ya business.”
He rolls his eyes. “So clever.”
“Yeah, well, I’m a woman of many talents.”
My gaze drops to the folder again. The longer I look at it, the tighter the back of my neck becomes. The irritation builds and builds until I’m reaching over and pulling the pile in front of me.
“Wanna know what this is? Here. I’ll show ya.” I reach in and take out the tax bills. I slide them in between us. “This is the thing that’s going to put me out of business. It’s due by next month, or I’m kaput.”
He takes a look at it and whistles between his teeth.
“Right? Thanks, Chad, you fucker.”
Holden picks up the sheet of paper. “Shit, Sophie. Is that for just one year?”
“It’s spring and fall for this year and last. And maybe the fall from the year before that. I don’t even know anymore.”
“This is due soon.”
“No shit. I thought I’d be able to recoup some of it through bookings, but a place opened in Rockery—the Sweet Tea. What kind of a name, even, is that for a bed-and-breakfast?” I scoff. “Anyway, they’re pulling just enough of my business to let me not quite get ahead.”
He doesn’t laugh or smile or even almost crack a grin. I don’t blame him. It’s pretty mind-blowing that someone can get themselves into this kind of situation.
Peering out the window and ignoring Holden’s gaze on the side of my face, I chastise myself for getting into this mess. In my defense, it’s like it happened overnight. One minute, I’m conquering the world. Have a savings account with a decent little padding. The next minute, I’m in a hole a mile deep.
What the hell happened?
I squeeze my eyes shut.
Chad happened. Chad happened, and I haven’t found my footing. He found me at a time when I was reeling from the loss of Gramma and leaving Florida and feeling so . . . alone. As I was wondering what my future looked like and was secretly scared about the possibilities, he waltzed into town and held me tight and said everything I needed to hear.
I took the bait. He reeled me in and left me and my savings account gutted.
Damn it. And damn me.
I look at Holden, ready to change the subject. “What happened to you today, anyway? Dottie give you a hard time?”
He pulls his eyes away from me. “Not any more than any other time I’ve been around her.” He downs the rest of his wine.
“Want a refill?”
“Sure. Tastes like expired mouthwash, but what the hell.”
We sit quietly again, both lost in our thoughts. I take a few opportunities to sneak a glance at him, because even if I’m having a bad day, he’s still cute. And in my house. And I have to take what little pleasures life offers me.
“I heard about that job I was telling you about,” he says.
“The one in Florida that I hoped would provide me with a spot I could use for vacations? Please don’t tell me you blew it. I was counting on that.”
He grins. “You have so much faith in me.”
I sigh. “You blew it, didn’t you?”
“No. Not yet, anyway.”
“Good. What did they say, then? That they love you and think you’re a wizard and you start tomorrow?” I sigh. “That’s it, isn’t it? You’re leaving, and you’re sad that you have to go.” I pat him on the shoulder. “You’ll be okay. I know I’m hard to leave.”