Broken Hero

“Does this mean you figured things out last night, then?”

“Yes, we did. I’m sure we’ll argue more in the future, but as long as we talk it through, we’ll be fine. How about you? Did you survive Logan?”

“Yes. We talked for a bit, actually.”

“Really?””Yes, but don’t get any ideas.” She raises a finger in warning. “I can see where your mind is heading.”C0pyright © 2024 Nôv)(elDrama.Org.

I pretend to salute her. “Understood. Roadblocks erected.”

“Dork.”

“You know you love it.” I grab the plate with tasters of the Oreo chocolate chip cookies. “Try our new flavor?”

Mandy gives me a final hug before she leaves, and I’m left alone with my thoughts. So people know. It’s not just speculation-they know know.

The reasonable part of me tries to argue that it was inevitable. The town was always going to find out, anyway.

But not this way. Now everyone knows he stayed the night with all that that implies. I like to think I’m not a prude, but in a town this small, with people like Gavin who already draws conclusions about me being a massage therapist? This was not the way I wanted to be spoken about.

My aunt realizes something is wrong the second she comes back out of the kitchen. She’s at my side in seconds, and the concern on her face nearly undoes me. I tell her exactly what Mandy told me.

“I just don’t want them to think… he’s my boss, technically, you know.”

She shakes her head. “People don’t think that way. They’re just curious, sweetie. It’ll pass, especially once they see how you and Oliver are together.”

“You think?””I know. Tell you what, they’re unveiling the new fountain in town today.”

“They are? The one that’s been under construction for ages?”

“The very one. I even think the current mayor will be there to give a little speech. How about you and I go there this afternoon? Phil can handle the cash register. People can’t talk if you’re there, and if anyone has any questions, you’ll be there to answer them.”

I swallow. I know exactly the type of crowd who’ll be there-Mrs. Masters and her friends. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”

“Of course it is! You have nothing to be ashamed of. Why don’t you show them that?”

“I just don’t like being the town gossip, you know.”

She rubs my shoulder. “I know, sweetie, no one does. But you’re strong, Lucy.”

I take a deep breath. What was I afraid of, really? Oliver and I had done nothing wrong. “You’re right. We should go.”

“And who knows? Maybe they’ll discover a new lark next week and your relationship will be entirely forgotten.”

I can’t help but laugh. “Thank you.”

“Now let’s find your uncle, wherever he might be, and tell him he needs to man the front desk. We’re going out to have some fun.”

The center square is entirely shut off from traffic. Tables with drinks are set up along one edge, and in the center, the fountain is covered with a giant, red piece of cloth. The top 100 hits are playing on repeat from a hidden speaker. I shade my eyes and look around at the crowd.

Is this far too much attention for a single fountain? Yes. But I’ve kind of learned to like this aspect of small-town life. Claremont locals will take any excuse to celebrate and talk with their neighbors, to spend more time together, and there’s something beautiful in that.

Claire waves at a group of women as we arrive. “That’s the book club I’ve been trying to get into for ages,” she stage-whispers to me.

“Trying to get into?”

“They’re very exclusive.”

I chuckle. “I’m sure you qualify.”

“Yes, well, I might have to bribe them with some cake.”

“That’s a great strategy. Bake it in the shape of a book.”

Her eyes light up. “Lucy, you’re a genius.”

“I was joking!”

“I’m not. Come on, let’s go talk to some people.”

I extricate myself from a fascinating conversation about Claremont history about twenty minutes later to head to the drinks table. My aunt is right-no one is looking at me any differently. Only one person asked me about Oliver, and that was more in a congratulatory way. Maybe I’d overreacted, after all.

It isn’t until I’ve reached the drinks area that I notice a small clique to my left, hiding from the sun under a parasol. One of the men is easy to recognize, with his slicked back hair and confident stance. Gavin Whittaker.

I pour myself a cup of lemonade and try to listen to what they’re saying. I finally make out their words, though I quickly wish I hadn’t.

“That’s why he hired her, you know. Easy access.”

There’s a round of snickers. “He doesn’t even have to leave the ranch,” a woman says, someone I don’t recognize. “I can’t think of a more perfect set-up. Home delivery.”

“Zero work, maximum reward.”

I look over and see a blonde woman shaking her head. “Well, that’s for sure-I’ll never let Mark book a treatment with her!”

They all laugh. “What wife would let her husband go there? No, you were right from the start, Gavin. This town is better than… that.”

This can’t be happening.

The ground tilts underneath my feet. This can’t be happening, not again, not here, please not here. The cup slips out of my hand and falls to the ground. This town is better than that, she said. There was a world of insinuation in that single word. That.

I pick up my cup with shaking hands and throw it in the trash before I head blindly for Main Street. I need to get away, I need to go back to my studio. I need to be alone. I can’t let them see my cry, even though tears burn behind my eyes.

“Wait.”

I speed up.

“Wait!” A strong hand reaches out and grasps my forearm. “Where are you off to in such a hurry?”

I blink my eyes clear as I look up at Gavin. Was he not done humiliating me? “I heard you,” I say. “I don’t want to be in your company for even a second longer.”