Page 12 of To Fall or Not to Fall

Chapter Eight

T heo

Ava is standing at the counter, laughing at something the man is telling her. Her eyes are bright, and I watch as her fingers twist around her long, curly hair. The sound of her giggles carries through the store, and I feel annoyed.

Annoyed because she's standing there smiling, acting like everything is okay, even though I haven’t been able to sleep for the last couple of nights—guilt gnawing at me, my mind filled with nothing but the thought of touching her body.

It’s crazy. I’ve never had such a fever over a woman before, especially a woman I didn’t even know. We’ve never even been on a date, but there is just something about her. Something that intrigues me. Something that brings out the best in me.

I don’t know if it is because of her or because of this small town—a town that makes me think about my grandparents and my idyllic childhood. A childhood that had been ruined.

When my mother left my father and married my stepdad, Sherwin Northanga, everything changed. He was strict, mean, and only cared about money. My mother had put up with it because he was rich, and I learned quickly that the only thing that really mattered in life was money.

My trips with my grandparents became fewer and fewer, until they disappeared altogether.

At first, I thought it was because they didn’t love me anymore, that they didn’t want to spend time with me.

Later, I found out they had died, and my mother didn’t want to tell me.

She didn’t want me to go to the funeral.

She told me the reason she left my father was because he was toxic and narcissistic.

It was only as an adult that I realized those had all been lies. If anyone was toxic, it was my mother.

"Hi, Theo."

Aria comes bouncing through the store. "How are you doing?"

She looks me up and down, and I can see the slight annoyance in her gaze. It’s like she’s telling me to man up. Telling me to stop playing games with her friend. But I’m not playing games. I’m here for a reason. A purpose.

"I just thought maybe I’d look for another book today."

"Oh yeah?" she says. "Enjoy The Picture of Dorian Gray, did you?"

I stare at her for a couple of seconds, then nod. "I did. Thank you."

"And what happened exactly?"

"Sorry?"

"What happened in the book? I mean, I think you would’ve read it really, really closely, right? Seeing as the author pretty much has your same name."

I stare at her, wondering if she’s trying to call me out.

"As much as I would love to discuss the book with you, do you mind if I go and grab a coffee?"

"Coffee first? Oh, no. Of course not," she says. "Sure, go and grab a coffee."

"Hey, Aria," Ava calls out. "What are you doing?"

"Oh, I was just talking to Theo," she says, laughing. "He’s about to come up and grab a coffee from you."

"Oh, awesome," Ava says. I can tell by the look on her face that she’s surprised.

"Hey, Theo," she says, giving me a small wave. Like we didn’t almost kiss the other day. Like I haven’t spent hours thinking about her lips this close to mine. Like I haven’t spent more time imagining what it would be like to touch her than I’ve spent thinking about how to make this store mine.

"Can I get a black coffee?" I say, standing next to the tall man who glances me up and down. He looks familiar, and for some reason, he’s annoying the shit out of me. He looks smug, and I want to tell him to stop touching his hand to his chin like he’s thinking hard about something.

He is trying far too hard to impress Ava.

"Rupert, have you met Theo? Theo, this is Rupert. He’s new in town. He’s from the city, as well.”

“Rupert,” I say, looking him up and down, wondering if he knows who I am. I wonder what city he’s from. Not that I’m going to ask. I don’t really care.

“Theo.” He stares at me for a moment, his eyes narrowing. “Theodore. Theo.”

I see the moment he makes the connection. He presses his lips together.

“Nice to meet you.”

“You, too," I say. "So, just a black coffee. Thank you, Ava."

"You’re welcome," she says.

I watch as she grabs a mug and pours me a cup. I’m annoyed at her. Annoyed that she’s being friendly. Annoyed that she’s humming to herself as she makes me my coffee.

She’s too soft. Too trusting. Too warm. And women like that only get hurt.

She turns back to me and hands me the coffee. "Here you go."

"How much is that?"

"It’s on the—" she pauses. "Three dollars, please."

I hand her a five-dollar bill and shake my head. I knew she was about to give it to me for free. How the hell was she running a business where she gave things away? I’d never understand it.

"Thank you," I say as she hands me back two dollars. "You can keep the change."

"Oh, but?—"

"Keep the change, Ava."

"Okay. Thank you."

I take a deep breath and head to one of the small stools at the side of the room. Pulling out my phone, I pretend to check emails, but instead, I gaze up at Ava.

She’s chatting with Rupert. He’s flirting with her, trying to get into her good graces.

Which is what I paid him to do.

He’s a private investigator for my company, sent here to figure out what makes her tick and to give me the information I need. He didn’t know I would be here, as well. That’s because I never normally come on these trips.

As I watch her laugh at something he says, anger rises in me.

I wonder if she’s falling for him. If she thinks he’s attractive.

He’s certainly laying on the charm. Yet she doesn’t even realize that he’s here for a reason.

He’s here to fool her, to gain her trust, to sell me information so I can buy her company.

And I feel sad for her.

She needs saving. She doesn’t even realize she’s running her business into the ground with her generosity. She doesn’t even realize this man is using her.

And then guilt courses through me. Because I’m no better than him.

I’m using her, too.

But I know I’m also attracted to her. That’s real. The pull I feel for her is real. And maybe I can pursue it. But I won’t be able to forgive myself if I pursue something and she’s left in the cold.

But maybe she doesn’t have to be.

Maybe when I open the hotel, I can offer her a job. She’d be great at the front desk. Or maybe as an events coordinator. Or maybe she could string fairy lights and pumpkins everywhere. Hell, maybe I could even open a little bookstore in the hotel just for her.

It wouldn’t be this place, but it would be something. It would be a kindness. It would show that I cared. That if we made love, or became something more intimate, I wasn’t just using her for her body.

I look up at her. She’s staring at me.

She gives me a small smile. I smile back, then nod and look down at my phone. Because I don’t know what I’m doing.

I need to leave town. I need to leave Rupert and Jenna to the task at hand and focus on other parts of the business.

But maybe I should tell her who I am. Maybe even offer her the chance to create whatever business she wants inside the hotel—as long as she sells and convinces the others.

I don’t know how she’ll take it.

I want to laugh, because deep down, I know exactly how she’ll take it. She won’t take it well. Not at all.

And if I tell her the truth, I know she’ll never sell to me, and I’ll be out in the cold.

And I’ve invested too much time and money. I can’t just walk away.