Page 13 of Take the Blame (Seaside Mergers #3)

Chapter Eight

AUGUSTUS

Tap, tap, tap .

The repetitive sound of Gerald’s eraser knocking against his sketchpad was… fine.

Click, clack. Click, clack .

Jules typing away on the laptop up front was also… fine. She wasn’t even working. When there weren't any customers and all the emails were answered, Jules liked to work on her novel. But fine, fine, whatever.

Snap, clink .

There went Ryan with his goddamn glass sodas again. But don’t worry, that was all fine. And Lana bobbing her head to her extra loud music in her extra-large headphones–yup, fine too.

Just. Fine .

It was a slow Thursday at the shop and everyone was doing their own thing… loudly. Yet even with all the noise, the ring of the shop phone still made me jerk so hard, the tray I was prepping rattled.

Ink tipped and spilled onto the wrapped surface, splatter not only getting over everything I had perfectly lined up for my eleven o’ clock, but also wasting all three inkwells I would be using for the day.

I closed my eyes, hissing in a whisper, “Fucking Christ.”

“Everything okay, Gus man?” Quis asked.

“Yeah. Who’s on the phone?” I asked, my hands going about my tray in a frenzy, trying to clean up and reset for my appointment.

“No clue,” Quis said. “Jules?”

Jules held up her finger, signaling us to wait as she took the call. In the meantime. I reset my work tray with the necessary materials as I tried not to think about the same thing I’d been trying not to think about for the past week.

Stormy brown eyes.

“Gus!” Jules called from the front, finally off the phone. “That was your eleven ‘o’ clock calling to cancel! Again .”

“Jesus Christ,” I growled. I guess I would have to waste all of this ink twice . “Next time they fucking cancel, I’m dropping them. Let them go to fucking Tore for all I care.”

A reflexive groan rose throughout the shop at the mention of Tore Tattoo. A rival and a nuisance to Ink and Mar.

“ Someone’s testy,” Lana said underneath her breath, popping a look up at Jules that she thought I didn’t see.

I glared. “I’m not testy. It’s unprofessional and rude to just not show up to things. Am I wrong?”

“You sure you’re talking about the appointment, Boss ?” Ryan asked, eyebrow waggling.

I crossed my arms. “Of course. What else would I be talking about? ”

A collective snort filtered around the room, but I didn’t stick around to hear it. Leaving everything the way it was, I took a second to go back to my office and take a breather.

I just needed to take a breather. I was just overwhelmed or overstimulated or over- something today. My bad mood had nothing to do with the fact that Alta actually didn’t show up for her appointment on Tuesday and had sent no word about whether she’d be here today, either.

No. My snapping at anything and anyone who happened to come at me wrong had absolutely zero to do with the image of eyes usually so beautiful and happy suddenly tear-filled and stricken.

Nope. My bad mood had absolutely nothing to do with her .

And if I was suddenly bouncing on my feet with nervous energy as I paced the length of my office, it had nothing to do with the fact that it was almost eleven in the morning. Two hours before her scheduled time to come in.

Maybe she would find a need to stop by today.

What did she say her schedule was again?

She had other clients on this block today didn’t she?

Maybe I could find a reason to stop by one of those places…

I liked coffee or what was it that boutique sold?

Oh—one of a kind cashmere sweaters. Yep, maybe I could go for a sweater.

It was getting cold outside, I could just pop by and shop around.

Wandering over to my desktop casually , I tapped the screen to life.

It was set up against a wall of old pinned up sketches ranging from the first thing I ever drew in this shop to the last heart I’d drawn for her.

Absently, I ran my finger along the little touchpad to the side of the keyboard, racking my brain for details about her possible whereabouts.

I’m pretty sure she sent monthly calendars attached to all her emails. I’d never looked at it before because I knew when she’d be here, but…

Peeking over my shoulder I looked around to see if the coast was clear.

I don’t know why I was acting like I was doing something wrong.

It wasn’t like I was spying on her or anything.

This was public knowledge for all her Market Street clientele to see.

She wouldn’t have sent it if she didn’t want us to know. Right?

So why did it feel wrong the moment I opened the attachment for the first email she sent every month? It wasn’t like I was keeping tabs on her; I was just looking. Maybe she had an opening in there to take a break.

And what, Aug? Come to see your ass after you made her cry?

Shaking my head, I pushed the thoughts aside and opened up her attached calendar. Then I blinked. I wanted to wipe my eyes but, I’d always had good vision. I knew what I was seeing was real.

“Holy shit,” I breathed, setting back on my heels.

Alta’s calendar was packed. From top to bottom, each week was planned out to an absolute science.

She started all her days at “the office” at seven-thirty in the morning.

By twelve-thirty she was out in the field, keeping back-to-back appointments with business after business located along the beach strip.

On Tuesdays and Thursdays she took lunch directly before coming straight here, Ink and Mar being the first appointment on her block at one.

Then she took anywhere from four to six more forty-five minute appointments, depending on the day.

Her other days weren’t that different, only she didn’t take lunch on Mondays and her only appointments on Wednesdays was one at a local wine shop for multiple hours.

The rest of the time she spent at “the office.” And then Fridays were completely blocked off for “planning,” which I assumed meant she was still working just not face-to-face with her clients.

Come to think of it, a lot of her emails, charts and administrative alerts did seem to filter through over the weekends. She must prep them all on Friday during her “planning” hours.

I marveled at the grind she was putting in, not just for my shop but for so many others. For herself. Suddenly, I wanted to know what she was working for. If she was working this hard it had to be for something important, and I never even bothered to ask why.

Watery brown eyes with the war of several emotions flashed in my mind. She was so upset when I turned down her idea. And yet, she’d only swallowed the rejection and said “okay.”

She wasn’t a brat. I would never say it again. She was a workhorse, a powerhouse, and she had been counting on me for something the other day, and I didn’t deliver. Just like when we’d first met, she’d wanted something from me and I failed.

I had to stop doing that. I had to make it up to her. But as my dry emails and call history liked to remind me, I wouldn’t get the chance until next month. It was the second week in October for Christ’s sake. Did I really have to wait until November to speak to her again? To see her.

As if mocking me, my eyes caught onto the little orange block on the last Friday of the month. The Halloween party. The reason for my troubles. Looking closer at it, I noticed that Ink and Mar was in fact the only business she frequented that wasn’t listed as a participating vendor for the event.

I cursed under my breath. Could I still do it?

Could I just show up and announce myself as a participant?

No, she probably had a whole process for this thing.

Maybe I could just text, and say I wanted in.

But then I wouldn’t get to see her face when I apologized for being an ass.

I wouldn’t get to see for myself if I’d done enough to calm the storms.

I sighed. It was still early; I could visit her at “the office.” It couldn’t be too hard to find out where she worked, right? I could just stop by and say I needed to talk to her quickly. According to her calendar she should be leaving for lunch soon anyway. Maybe she’d want to grab a bite…

My eyes caught on a red block around the square for today’s date. The bar ran the length of the entire day. Every time slot available reading “Canceled. Personal. Sorry! ”

I scoffed. Leave it to her to apologize on her own damn calendar. But I felt my eyebrows tug together, my thoughts automatically wandering to the mysterious alert.

Other than now, I couldn’t remember a time where she’d ever canceled on Ink and Mar. I imagine the same went for her other clients too, so what could be so pressing that she not only canceled on us but also the rest of her appointments?

My shoulders sagged, dejected air seeping from my lungs. I guess that meant no stopping by since she wasn’t available. Her usual “in office” block wasn’t even there, so it must be important.

I hoped everything was alright.

Vibration coming off my hip made my heart leap in an emotion I couldn’t quite explain. The emotion soon drained as the same Connecticut number flashed across the screen. I stared at it, my hands going slick with sweat, my neck getting hot.

Was it her? No one else would try to reach me from back home. My parents sure hadn’t in the last ten years. This had to be my sister. But just like the last time, my movements stalled, my fingers unable to press the accept button on the screen.

“Gus?”

The phone fumbled out of my hand and clattered onto my keyboard in a loud crash. Reaching out I picked it up, praying to God it hadn’t answered. Suddenly I realized that if I did pick up, and it was Mar, I wouldn’t know what to say to her.

Luckily nothing happened. Nothing but the screen I’d been looking at on the desktop suddenly getting larger and displaying just what I had been looking at to Jules.