Page 2 of Promise To Marry You
The half quirk of a smile I’ve seen a thousand times crosses his lips, soothing me with its familiarity. “I’ll always be here for you, Cam. Now go. Run the hot water tank dry like you always do.”
A laugh bubbles out of me, the first one in days. And I walk to the bathroom feeling lighter than I have since the moment I got the call that Grandpa had died.
Funerals fucking suck. I know, not a surprise. But really? Standing around while a bunch of people say things about my grandfather and cry over him, as if he were their family?
No thanks.
I thought I could hold it together. After all, emotional breakdowns in front of a room full of people who’ve never given two shits about me is not my idea of a good time. But as soon as Grandpa’s favourite song, “Take Me Home, Country Roads” by John Denver started to play, I lost it. Thank God Beckett was there, letting me muffle my sobs in his shoulder. That makes two shirts of his I’ve covered in tearstains in one day.
I’m a goddamn mess. But it would be infinitely worse without him by my side.
“Here, drink this.”
I take the glass of water Beckett hands me and guzzle it quickly. “Thank you. Who knew funerals could be so dehydrating.” My attempt to joke falls flat, but Beckett doesn’t miss a beat, handing me his own water as well, without saying a word.
I flash a small smile as yet another person walks up and murmurs their half-hearted condolences. I have no idea who they are; hell, I don’t know more than half the people in here. But they all apparently knew my grandfather well enough to come and pay their respects.
But finally, the crowd is dwindling, and there’s not that many people left milling about the hall I booked for after the burial.
“How soon do you think is too soon for me to just leave?” I mutter to Beckett, sinking down into a nearby chair. “My feet hurt, my face hurts, my heart hurts.”
He settles beside me, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees and turning his head to me, those gentle brown eyes filled with sympathy. “I think you can leave whenever you want. If someone needs to stay and shut things down, I’ll do it.”
My head is already shakingnowhen he shifts and pulls my cell phone out from his pocket.
“You should probably take a look at this; it’s been vibrating nonstop for the last half hour. I was going to tell you earlier, but you were a little preoccupied.”
I stare at my phone screen, feeling my mouth fall open in disbelief. Three missed calls and two messages from my boss, the new mayor as of last year. I open the messages first, then quickly close them. He can’t be serious. But when I dial into my voicemail and hear his irate voice asking why I wasn’t in the office this morning, my stomach sinks.
I drop the phone into my lap after the last message ends and stare at it numbly.Fucking hell, I hate that man.
“Tell me I didn’t hear that right, Cam. Was that seriously your boss asking where you are right now?”
The shock and anger in Beckett’s voice does little to settle me. If anything, it feeds the emotional exhaustion even further.
“You don’t understand. Joseph doesn’t give a shit that Grandpa was buried today. They hated each other. And Joseph has been looking for a reason to fire me ever since he took over. If I don’t listen to him, he’ll have that reason.”
“Like hell he will.” Beckett’s tone is filled with indignant fire. “You just buried your grandfather, the former mayor. What kind of jackass doesn’t close the office as a show of respect? He should be here, at his predecessor’s funeral, not in his fucking office giving you shit for not coming to work.”
It’s rare for Beckett to get angry, so the intensity of his reaction surprises me. But exhaustion hampers my ability to respond as I lift my shoulders in a helpless shrug. “Small town politics. You should be used to it.”
Beckett scoffs. “Dogwood Cove’s mayor is a good man, like your grandfather was. Guaranteed, Ethan would rather cut off his own arm than demand an employee — any employee — come in the day they bury a loved one.”
Part of me bristles at his anger toward Joseph and this town. Which is ridiculous, I know, seeing as I hate them just as much, if not more. But my connections to my grandfather are unraveling fast, and I’m desperately clutching to whatever I have left.
I know Beckett isn’t to blame right now, but he’s trying to tell me what to do, just like Joseph. And while the asshole mayor might think he can boss me around, Beckett should know better.
“Joseph might be an asshole, but he’s still my boss.” My harsh whisper has Beckett moving to crouch in front of me, not crowding me, but subtly shielding me from everyone else in the room. Given the fact that I feel like a brittle piece of glass, ready to shatter at any moment, I appreciate the gesture. I’m being irrational, and there’s nothing the townsfolk like more than to see me step outside their carefully coloured lines.
“Tell him you’ll be there in the morning, Cam. You won’t be any good to anyone right now. He’s being unreasonable and denying you basic employee rights. I know better than to push you, so if you tell me you want to go into work tomorrow to deal with things, fine. But you can’t go in today.” His voice is calm on the surface, but the steely, clipped tone makes it clear how he feels about the situation. He’s trying to be supportive, and I know he’s coming from a place of concern, not control.
It still makes me defensive, and a small part of me wants to exert my independence and insist I can handle Joseph and all the bullshit he’s likely to pile on.
But exhaustion wins out. I don’t want to go to the office and deal with Joseph. I want to go home and go to sleep so this awful day can be over. I’ll face the consequences of this decision tomorrow. I thumb out a text to Joseph, stating I’ll be there at 8 am tomorrow, then I shut my phone off.
“Let’s get out of here.”
Chapter two
