Pieces of Us - Carrie Elks Page 0,80
of it now. But not just about the pier. More than one decision. At least two.
The second one was kissing him.
You were a mistake. You always have been. The voice in his head sounded exactly like his mom’s.
It made him feel sick. Like the kid he’d been when he’d cried in the hospital, the only one in the pediatric ward not surrounded by adults who loved him when he’d been injured.
A mistake.
A bad decision.
It all added up to the same thing. He wasn’t wanted.
“I gotta go,” Griff said, shaking his head, though the messy thought refused to move.
Lydia reached out for his arm. “You should wait to talk to Autumn. She’ll be out soon.”
“I can’t.” He shrugged her off in the same gentle way he’d eluded Ember. When you’re as big as he was, you knew how to stop from hurting others inadvertently.
Funny how he couldn’t stop himself from hurting, though. Not when the word ‘mistake’ was battering around in his head like a pinball on speed. He heard it in his mom’s voice, a little bit screechy, and a whole lot of painful.
For all his life he’d gotten in the way of her plans. Was he getting in the way of Autumn’s, too?
Christ, he needed a drink. Or five.
“The pier isn’t for sale,” Autumn said, looking from her father to Mr. Carlsson and back again. “I’m sorry for your wasted journey.”
“Of course it’s for sale.” Her dad did that lying laugh again. It grated her nerves like cheese. “As I explained, Autumn has gotten attached to this place. Who wouldn’t? It’s a beautiful property in a beautiful town.” His steely eyes slid to Autumn’s. “Hence the agreed price.”
“Dad…”
“Actually, could you give us a minute?” her father quickly said, striding over to the door and pulling it open. He beckoned at Josh, who was standing with Lydia and Carla of all people. Autumn frowned, wondering where Griff was.
“Josh, can you take Mr. Carlsson on a tour of the pier?”
“Now?” Josh asked, frowning just a little.
“Yes. I want to talk to my daughter alone.”
“Oh, sure,” he smiled agreeably. “Let’s go.”
Autumn watched as they left, her arms folded tightly across her chest. All the adrenaline shooting through her veins seemed to evaporate, making her body feel leaden and achy. She collapsed into a chair, frowning as she tried to work out how the day had morphed from triumph into disaster.
She should have been up front with her dad about the pier not being for sale. It was her own stupid fault that this had happened.
“Why didn’t you tell me you were coming?” Autumn asked him.
“Because I wanted to surprise you.”
She wasn’t going to hit something. Not even if her fists were aching to feel the wood of her desk. “You should have called. You’ve just wasted twenty-four hours for nothing. And I haven’t even gotten started on Josh being here. Why the hell have you involved him in this?”
“Because he has good contacts, and he wanted to help. He feels bad that you bought this place while you were drinking away your sorrows.” Her dad frowned. “You should have told me all about that from the start, by the way. I could have stopped the sale.”
“I didn’t want you to. I wanted to buy the pier.” She blew out a mouthful of air. “And I’m glad I did, because it brought me back to life again. Made me realize I can make it on my own. Without Josh and our business. And without your help.”
His face fell, and she winced. That hadn’t exactly come out right.
“If you don’t sell, it’s going to be impossible to manage this place from New York. Which means you’ll have to employ somebody to do it for you, and that’ll eat into your profits even more.” He leaned forward and cupped her face. “Think about what you could do with the money if you sell. I’ll help you set up a new business if you want.” He blinked at her expression, hastily pulling his hand away. “Or I can let you do it yourself,” he added quickly. “But it’ll give you the freedom to choose.”
She took a deep breath, steeling herself. “I don’t know that I want to come back,” she said, not quite able to meet his eye. “I like it here.”
He didn’t respond for a full thirty seconds, and her nerves felt every one of them. She could hear the blood rushing through her ears, matching the beat of the music from the stage.
“Is it