A Date with the Other Side (Cuttersville #1)(61)
Author: Erin McCarthy

Brett snorted. “Sensational would be an accurate assessment.”

“Did they name the company?” Boston was starting to sweat under his T-shirt, realizing the implications of what he’d done. Brett could be here to fire him for bringing bad publicity to Samson.

“Yes.” Brett said nothing more, but stood up. “Is Amanda upstairs? I would like to speak to her.”

“Amanda? She doesn’t live here. I guess she’s at her own house, but I’m not really sure. I haven’t talked to her since Tuesday.” Boston drummed his fingers on his knees. “You can call her cell phone.”

It hadn’t seemed like anything could get worse than losing Shelby. Yet losing his job might just add to the fun summer he was having, given the thunderous look on Brett’s face.

“You mean Amanda isn’t living with you?”

“No, and we’re not seeing each other either.” He would have thought that would make Brett happy, but it didn’t appear to be having that effect. His boss was a trim, healthy, in-shape guy in his mid-fifties. He wasn’t losing hair, didn’t have a gut, and never seemed out of breath. Right now he looked like he could have a coronary on the plum-colored throw rug.

“She told me she was going to New York to visit friends. But she came here for you, I know she did. That’s why I sent you here in the first place, to get you out of her reach. But if she’s not with you, what is she doing here?”

Exploring America didn’t seem like the answer to give Brett. And truthfully, he didn’t really know what Amanda was still doing in Cuttersville. He would have expected her to be long gone by now. Like he wanted to be.

Despite the fact that he’d reconciled himself to Cuttersville, and that he enjoyed living in his big old house, which hadn’t had a hint of haunting since he’d last seen Shelby, he wanted to leave. Because every time he stepped into the Busy Bee or drove past Hair by Harriet, or saw Brady, he thought of Shelby.

And wanted her all over again.

He was losing sleep, struggling to concentrate, feeling beyond miserable, and he wanted to slide back into his old life and forget he’d ever spent the summer hot and dusty and with the woman he wanted to marry.

“I don’t know what Amanda’s doing here, Brett, to be perfectly honest with you. I would have thought she’d have left two weeks ago.”

“She does it to annoy me,” Brett said flatly.

Boston stood up, not sure how far he could go, but he spoke anyway. “She just wants some attention from you.”

Brett looked unimpressed. “She’s not a child. If she wants to talk to me, she can call me, not play these damn annoying games that have me worried half to death she’ll get herself raped and murdered in some godforsaken place.”

Boston didn’t know a thing about fatherhood, but he could see the concern on Brett’s face and he felt for him. But he also felt like he should talk to his daughter. “Let me give you directions to where she’s staying. Then I’m requesting that you transfer me back to Chicago. The plant here is well run, and I’m superfluous.”

His boss paused and looked him over before nodding. “I’d be happy to grant your request.”

But it wasn’t relief that surged through Boston, it was sickening regret.

The problem was, when you had a good plan, there were other people who just went and messed it up. Take Boston and Shelby for instance, Jessie Stritmeyer thought as she weeded out her petunias, cursing the prickers. Damn things had the flowers in a chokehold.

What was Boston about, leaving Cuttersville? She had walked that horse to water, knew for a fact that he’d even taken a drink, and yet he’d just strolled right out of the pasture.

She didn’t like being wrong. She didn’t like being right and having no one listen to her.

Jessie yanked with fervor, tossing a spiny plant into her lawn refuse bag.

It was time to have a talk with her granddaughter.

Chapter Twenty

There was miserable, then there was scum-sucking, life-draining, pit-of-despair agony. Shelby was experiencing the latter.

As she dragged herself through to the end of another day, she wondered why doing the right thing was so goddamn awful. Stepping into the Yellow House, she pulled at her sticky hot T-shirt and reminded herself that she had done what she had thought was best in breaking things off with Boston.

There hadn’t been any better options, and when she walked herself back through her thought process, she could see that she’d made the only logical decision. If the last two weeks had been something akin to hell on earth, well, she’d get better eventually.

“Shelby Louise, come in the kitchen. I need to talk to you.”

Gran sounded crotchety, which was a little out of character. Shelby sighed and forced her feet to take her in that direction. She was bone tired, not sleeping well at night, and taking tours through the now-empty White House was like a fresh slap every day.

She loved Boston Macnamara. And she had sent him away.

No. He had left, and she’d do well to remember that.

“Hey, Gran, how are you?” Shelby kissed Gran’s cheek as she came into the kitchen.

Her grandmother was standing by the sink, making iced tea and looking severe. She had on aqua blue capri pants and a white shirt with a little nautical anchor front and center, making Shelby feel a little better. She may not have Boston, but she had a family who loved her.

“Shelby Louise, I’m kicking you out.”

Or not. “What! What do you mean?”

“I mean you have until the end of the month to find another place to live.” Gran stirred the pitcher of tea vigorously before setting it on the windowsill above the sink.

To say that she was shocked was an understatement. She was flabbergasted, and hurt. “Why? Do you want me to pay rent? I can do that. Gran?” Shelby just didn’t think she could deal with finding another place to live right then. She wanted comfort, the familiar.

“The rent is six hundred.”

“I can’t afford that!”

“Guess you’ll have to move out, then. Now you can do a couple of things. You can move in with your mother.”

And listen to her mother and Dave cooing over each other night and day. Shelby shuddered.

“You can find an apartment. Or you can haul your butt up to Chicago and throw yourself at Boston. I’m hoping that’s the one you’ll pick.”

So that was what this was all about. Gran wanted her to get back together with Boston. Yeah, well, Shelby wanted that too, but this was the real world.