Hot Pickle - J.J. Knight Page 0,83

the crowd.

“Not everyone can be a strong as Alma Packwood. And I’m here to say I’m in awe of what she started, and what she led our family to do. If you find yourself getting lucky with the people the world brings to you, don’t be like me and squander it. Be like my grandmother, Alma Packwood, and let everyone’s light shine.”

I lower the mic and turn to the side of the stage. My dad is already coming up the steps, followed by Jason. Anthony heads to the crowd to collect my grandmother.

My part is done.

I pass the mic to my dad, glancing out to see if Camryn is still in her spot by the drinks.

But she’s gone.

It didn’t work.

Jason smacks my back as we pass on the stairs. Nova squeezes my hand. By the time I get to the bottom, Anthony has returned with Grammy. She kisses me on the cheek. “That was lovely, grandson.”

I stand in a quiet corner between the stairs and the back wall, my hands clasped in front of me. I’ve made the biggest fool of myself ever.

And she left anyway.

The speeches continue, Dad talking about Grammy’s legacy. He jokes about the early days of the Manhattan Pickle. Jason goes on with his jocular self, about how he did his best to run his franchise into the ground but was saved by his brother Anthony.

I should listen more closely. But I feel leaden, as if my veins are filled with concrete. I failed.

I gave it my best shot.

38

Camryn

I press my back to the wall behind the drinking fountain, out of view of the stage.

My legs are shaking.

Why did Amy drag me here? I was doing so well, leaving my past behind. Forging a new way.

Oh, who am I kidding?

We know I was flubbing it. My job was terrible. I’ve been miserable since I left Los Angeles.

Since I left Max.

I have not been as lucky as the speech he gave. No great mom. I only met my grandparents a time or two. Our family is not close.

Perhaps the best person in my life has been Franklin. At least he took care of me when no one else would.

I’m adrift.

Not lucky. Except…

Max.

He thinks he’s lucky to have met me.

How can that be, when it cost him the career he’d just begun?

How can he think of me as good when it all went down so badly? His deli, wrecked. His friendship, ruined. His partnership, ended.

He said he was wrong. He shouldn’t have kept this a secret.

But it was my decision, too.

He’s blaming himself.

But it’s my brother. My lie.

Our lie.

I peek out from behind the water fountain. Grammy is up on stage with Sherman, Anthony, and Jason.

Where’s Max?

Grammy turns to the back corner. “Max, I need all my boys up here.”

I lean against the cold steel of the ice chamber beside the fountain.

Max runs back up the steps. They look good up there. Such a tight, close family. Jealousy floods me.

Max is lucky. And he knows it.

Max accepts the arm his brother Anthony puts around him.

His eyes go to the water fountain, to me. I don’t duck behind the stand. I stay out. Let him spot me.

The relief on his face tells me everything. He thought I’d left again.

Like in L.A.

I walked away. Took the easy route.

I’m not going to leave again.

As the room stands and claps, I push my way through.

I dodge chairs, squeeze through narrow channels between tables, and finally, I make it to the bottom of the stage.

Anthony sees me and turns to the musicians, pointing at them to start playing.

As the Pickles file off the stage, I wait.

Then he’s standing in front of me.

Max.

My Max.

“It’s like the day we first met,” I tell him.

He tilts his head. “I have a bad tan?”

I can’t help but laugh. “I see you in a crowded room.”

I touch his chin and move his face from side to side. That beautiful face. How I’ve missed it.

“But, yeah, I don’t see much tan action here.”

He closes my hand in both of his, holding it to his cheek. “You told me that day you would have to save me.”

“I remember.”

“And you did. I became the biggest winner in the room.”

I know he doesn’t mean the gold medal. My heart turns over. “It’s your turn.”

“To save you?”

I nod. “My new job is terrible. We’re overworked. Fourteen-hour days plus travel. People yelling at us all the time. No ventilation for the tans. It’s a madhouse. I have to go back tomorrow, and I don’t