Page 17 of Reece & Holden (Gomillion High Reunion #6)

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Holden

This is a bad idea. Ever since Reece offered to help yesterday, I’ve been bouncing between extremely grateful and thinking this is the worst idea of my life.

I’m currently in the bad idea phase of that process.

It’s only the thought that I’m not going to get another opportunity like this for several months that’s prevented me calling it off.

Clara sees no problem in it, but I think that’s because it solved the problem for her neatly.

Sometimes I do wonder about the motives of my best friend.

I glance over at Reece. Neither of us has spoken since we left Gomillion twenty miles ago. He seems wrapped up in his own thoughts. I sigh and feel Reece’s gaze on me.

“I knew this was a bad idea.”

“In what way?” he asks.

“We have nothing in common, w-we can’t even hold a conversation.”

“Sure we have.”

“Okay, name one thing.”

I’m met with silence.

“See,” I grind out. “It’s a very bad idea.”

“Well, we both run our own businesses,” he says and I bark out a laugh.

“You jet off across the world to meet with who are probably millionaire clients, and I just run a yarn store in the town I grew up in. They couldn’t be more different.”

“First, don’t demean what you do. You have to manage finances, deal with lots of customers, stock management . . . All of it by yourself. I’m a project manager. I just have to coordinate other people to do their jobs.”

“Well, when you put it like that,” I say bitterly, not believing a word of it.

“I mean it, Holden. You’ve achieved a great deal. I’d say I’ve had it easier, and I have a business partner.”

“Tell me about him?” I ask and watch the miles roll by as he explains.

“Nolan’s a great partner to have. We met over a decade ago when we were both working for another company.

We both realized we wanted to set up on our own in the same sort of business and decided it would be easier together.

We’ve been going for nearly four years now.

So far we’ve been lucky, we’ve worked hard and managed to secure some good clients. ”

“Your millionaire.”

“Billionaire, actually,” he says and I glance over, detecting a small smile.

“That’s not helping,” I say, but his smile is catching and I match it. “Sounds like the perfect life.”

“It’s good but it’s not perfect,” he replies and I detect a slight hint of wistfulness.

“But you must have lots of friends.” Okay, now I’m digging a little, but I’m stuck with him for several hours so I’m allowed to. I’m not looking at him but I can almost feel his frown.

“Not many, no,” he says carefully. “But I do have a brother.”

“W-what! Wait!” I steer the car back to the right hand lane from where I’d crossed over to the left in shock. Once I can drive properly again I ask, “Y-You have a brother?”

My mind is trying to get around that and failing. I know his dad married several times, but none of his wives had any kids by him.

“Yeah, you met his mom the other day. Marina.”

“How? Your mom just said she was a friend from England. So like, how?”

He gives a little chuckle.

“This isn’t her first visit to the States. She came over thirty-nine years ago for a tour of several states. She met my dad right before he married my mom—the night before from what I’ve been told. And yeah, I know my dad’s an asshole.”

I glance over again at Reece, and he has a slightly pained expression on his face.

“Does your dad know about your brother?”

“Yeah, he knows,” he says with a sigh. “He doesn’t care about Mac any more than he cares about me.”

“Mac? Is that his name?”

“Well, it’s Mackinley,” he says with a laugh.

“Wow.”

“Yeah, apparently Marina has a thing for old cop shows. But then, as Mac is a cop, I guess it fits.”

“A cop, huh?”

“Yeah, a detective. Mostly investigating largescale gang crimes or murders.”

“Sounds like the stuff movies are made of,” I say and Reece laughs.

“Yeah, a much more exciting life than mine.”

“I don’t think I could stand that much excitement,” I say. “The most excitement I get is when I’ve run out of a shade of yarn a customer needs to finish their project. So far it’s not led to murder and I’m happy with that.”

“Never underestimate small town pettiness,” Reece replies and I laugh, properly this time, and he does too. The tension I felt before eases and we manage to chat for the rest of the journey, Reece swapping with me halfway to share the driving.

I know as soon as we pull up outside the store that it’s not right for me.

For the most part because of the neighborhood.

The stares we were getting as we drove slowly trying to find the address .

. . the three stores next to the one we’re looking at boarded and shuttered, all adorned with graffiti .

. . I can’t see how there’d be a need for a yarn store.

“It’s not what I was expecting,” I say to Reece as we get out of the car.

“Is it the right address?” he asks, looking around, and I double check the address again. It’s correct.

“I don’t think I even want to look.”

“How about you do it anyway?” Reece suggests. “It’s all experience and you might learn something, even if it’s about what to avoid in the future.” That seems reasonable.

“Alright.” I agree.

“We’ve come all this way and you never know, it might be amazing inside.”

“Yeah, right.” I doubt it very much but I trail after him, disappointment weighing me down.

We meet with the agent who looks in no way apologetic for the store being nothing like it was described. Reece, though, looks interested and asks lots of questions, while I walk around wondering if I’ll ever find a suitable place.

“Lunch?” Reece suggests when we get back into the car, and he drives us to a diner we passed on the way in. When we’re seated and we’ve placed our orders, Reece leans forward and places his elbows on the table.

“So what did you think?”

I give him my opinion, which is fairly short, but basically comes down to . . . it didn’t matter if it was the most amazing store I’d ever seen, I couldn’t open it in a neighborhood I didn’t feel safe in.

“Yeah, that wasn’t nice, was it?”

Our food arrives and we tuck in.

“Thank you for asking all the right questions,” I say, and he shrugs like it was no big deal. “But sorry for dragging you out on a wasted journey.”

“It’s fine. I don’t like the outcome, but I do like spending time with you.”

I look at him for any hint of mockery, but he seems serious, which makes me feel a little exposed.

“Thanks,” I mutter and turn my attention to finishing my lunch.

Soon we’re back on the road and heading home. I’m behind the wheel again.

“So, how did you find the prom?” Reece asks after a short but surprisingly comfortable silence.

“Well, it wasn’t quite how I imagined my prom would be.”

“You didn’t go to the prom in high school?”

“No,” I reply, but if he didn’t know that, then . . . “Didn’t you go either?”

“No.”

“Oh.” That’s news to me, and I fall silent, assimilating the information.

“So how did you imagine your prom would go?” he asks softly.

“I would’ve danced a lot more.” I risk a glance at him and see a half smile playing on his lips. I’m about to tell him how I regret not staying for another dance. “I—”

There’s a loud clink and then an awful noise coming from my car.

“Shit!” I pull over and we jump out. I look back and see part of my exhaust lying in the highway. We’re not going anywhere else until that can be fixed.

“Where are we?” I ask, and Reece says the name of the town we passed about ten miles back, but pulls out his phone and finds us with the GPS.

We’re about fifty miles out of Charlotte, but there’s a town a few miles away.

I grab my phone and do a search for garages.

There’s one that appears to have a tow truck, so I give them a call, mouthing a “sorry” to Reece as I wait for them to answer.