“She was in my truck,” Bishop said, lifting his t-shirt to sniff it.

  “You’re making the entire room stink,” I replied, wiping at my face again. Had it rubbed off on me?

  “Sorry,” he said, taking a couple steps back. His brows were drawn together in confusion, like he couldn’t figure out why I was being a jerk.

  I honestly wasn’t sure why, either. I just knew that I wanted him out. It wasn’t fair—but who the hell said life was fair? While I’d been hustling trying to get my life back on track, not exploring what Bishop I had, he had been dating the woman who was the whole reason my life had gone to shit in the first place.

  What a cosmic fuck up.

  “Can you just go?” I said, hysteria bubbling up in my chest. I wasn’t sure how much longer I could manage to keep my emotions in check.

  “You want me to leave?” he asked calmly. I knew he was trying to diffuse whatever was happening, but there was no stopping it. My skin started to tingle and itch as I got another whiff of that fucking fruit perfume.

  “Please,” I said, waving him off. “Please, you stink.”

  He huffed in disbelief but he didn’t move. He just stared at me like he was trying to figure me out. Finally, when I reached up and covered my nose with my hand, he turned on his heel and strode out the door.

  The smell was everywhere. No matter how I waved my arms around and opened all the windows, it still seemed to linger. Finally, I decided that the perfume must have gotten on me somehow.

  I hopped in the shower and scrubbed, tears of frustration rolling down my face. God, how stupid I’d been.

  Knowing that someone was badmouthing me was bad enough. I’d been a jittery mess all night while Draco, Kara and I had tried to figure out the best way to fix the situation. By the time Bishop had shown up with Tabitha, I’d already spent half the night in tears.

  The sense of betrayal was so strong that I had no idea how I’d get past it. I knew that he’d had no idea. I knew that he’d done nothing wrong. But logic had absolutely no sway when it came to emotion.

  I wanted to hit him. I wanted to hurt him. I wanted him to feel the way I was feeling. To hurt as bad as I hurt. I wanted to scream at him. To make him feel as small and embarrassed as I did.

  It scared me, this overwhelming urge to get revenge.

  Tabitha and Mary and Bishop had gotten all tangled up together in my fury and I couldn’t figure out how to untangle them.

  I got out of the shower and toweled off quickly, throwing my hair up as I hurried back into my room. I couldn’t stay in the same house with him. I needed to get out of there before I did something stupid. I got dressed, and without bothering to pack a bag, I left.

  I cried the entire way to my parents’ house. I wasn’t sure if it was anger or frustration or hurt that had me practically sobbing, but I guessed it didn’t really matter.

  “The hell?” my dad asked, swinging the trailer door open after the third time I’d knocked. “Charlotte?”

  “Can I stay here?” I asked.

  “Stupid question,” he grumbled, stepping out of the doorway.

  I made my way inside, running my hands along the walls as I climbed the stairs in the dark.

  “What’s going on, baby?” my mom called from bed. I could hear her rustling around, and less than a minute later, she was there, wrapped in a hastily donned robe, her arms around me.

  “It’s been a shitty night,” I replied, my voice wobbling.

  “Who do I need to kill?” she replied, rubbing my back. “Don’t worry, your dad won’t let me get caught.”

  “You’re too pretty for jail, Ladybug,” my dad joked as he scooted around us.

  “Figured out why the business is tanking,” I said, my face still buried against my mom’s shoulder.

  “You did?” she asked in surprise, pulling far enough away to see my face.

  “The girls I fired have been badmouthing the cart,” I replied, the news no longer seeming as important as it had that afternoon.

  “That can’t be all it is,” my dad said, coming back from their little bedroom area in a pair of jeans. I took a second to be thankful that he’d at least been wearing boxers when he’d let me in.

  “I think it is,” I said tiredly, letting my mom sit me down at the table. “They’re working at another shop now and they’ve been telling customers that they left because Coffee Now is a health hazard.”

  “Huh,” Dad said, sitting down across from me. “I don’t know, baby girl. Seems like customers would take it with a grain of salt.”

  “They probably did,” I mumbled as mom got us each a beer. “But then people started talking about it on the community pages and it took on a life of its own.”

  “I hate that fuckin’ thing,” my dad replied in disgust. “Just a place for assholes to bitch about each other.”

  “It used to be, the neighbors would just bitch to each other until they’d worn themselves out,” my mom said dryly. “Now they’ve got a whole fucking audience.”

  “I’m not sure how I’m going to fix it,” I said quietly, taking a sip of my beer. “How do you prove that you don’t have mold and rats and shit? Take pictures? Invite customers inside?”

  “Just don’t get into it on the community page,” my mom warned. “That’ll just add fuel to the rumors.”

  “I know,” I said in frustration. “Do you have any idea how hard it is not to call people liars? Some of them are saying that they saw shit when they came through. Uh, no, you didn’t. That never fucking happened.”

  “That’s why I don’t have any social media,” my mom said with a laugh. “I know that I wouldn’t be able to keep my mouth shut. I’d be fighting with people all day long.” She shrugged. “If I want to see someone’s shit I just sign in on Callie’s accounts.”

  “Smart,” I said with a nod. My dad was quiet, but I knew he was paying attention. I knew that expression. He was thinking, looking at the problem from all angles as he figured out a solution.

  I was just grateful that we finally knew the problem and actually had something to fight against.

  “Ignore it,” he said finally. “Ignore all of it.”

  “That’s your solution?” my mom asked flatly.

  “If you’d let me talk,” he said, looking at her in exasperation. “We’re gonna rebrand you.”

  “Rebrand her,” mom said, unconvinced.

  “Yep,” dad said, smiling comfortingly at me. “You were already plannin’ on movin’ to the new location. We’ll just move up the timetable. You’re gonna finish out the week, then we’ll move the cart Friday night. Bring it here, change the signs, paint the outside, get her all spruced up. Monday mornin’ you’ll be in your new spot with a new name, in a shiny as shit cart, drawin’ people in.”

  “You think she can just change the name?”

  “I think that people have short fuckin’ memories,” Dad said. “And as long as no one keeps stokin’ the fire, the talk will die out. They’ll be talkin’ about the old name on the community pages—that cart is no longer there, it’ll quiet down.”

  “You really think that will work?” I asked in disbelief.

  “I do,” he said, nodding. “Hell, Charlie, I bet half of the people commentin’ on those bullshit posts haven’t even been to your shop. They just wanna be in on the action of tearin’ someone down. Once Coffee Now is gone, they’ll shut it.”

  “Unless someone mentions that I’ve moved the cart and renamed it,” I muttered.

  “You should advertise that you have,” my dad said, leaning back in his seat with a grin. “New place, new look, new name, new drinks. They’ll be crawlin’ all over you to see what you’ve done.”

  “This seems like a Hail Mary,” my mom said with a laugh. “But I kind of like it.”

  “Doesn’t stop those girls from badmouthin’ the new place though,” my dad said thoughtfully.

  “Oh, I think I handled that,” I said, my lips twitching. “I called their boss.”

  “Oh,” my mom’s mouth dropped open in awe. She toasted me with her beer bottle.

  “Narc,” my dad joked.

  “Hey now,” I said defensively. “Mal gave me his number for a reason—I just didn’t realize I’d actually need it. All I did was ask him to make it known that they weren’t allowed to badmouth other businesses.”

  “Did he say he would?” my mom asked.

  “He was a little reticent—”

  “Good word,” my dad interrupted.

  “But he said he would.”

  “Nice,” my mom said, nodding.

  “And then,” I grimaced. “Bishop showed up with one of them tonight, and when we kicked her out of the house I’m pretty sure we got our point across.”

  “He did what?” my mom yelled.

  “Bishop,” my dad said, pointing at mom. “That’s who you’re killin’.”

  “They’ll never find the body,” she replied darkly.

  “I don’t want you to kill him,” I said in exasperation, leaning down to thump my head against the table. “Maim, maybe.”

  “What the hell was he thinking?” my mom asked in disbelief.

  “He was thinking that he wanted to bring his date home with him,” I replied around the knot in my throat. “He didn’t know that we knew her.”

  “His date,” my mom spat.

  “It’s fine,” I said, leaning my head on her shoulder. “I told him that I had to much going on to date him—”

  “Which one?” my mom asked. “Redhead or brunette?”

  “Tabitha,” I replied, still leaning on her. “Brunette.”

  “Ugh,” she said in commiseration. “Pretty but mean.”

  “In a nutshell,” I agreed.

  “Stupid,” my dad said, shaking his head slowly.

  “He didn’t know,” I argued tiredly.

  “He knows he’s hung up on you,” my dad said simply. “Takin’ someone else out is stupid.”

  “Can’t argue with that,” my mom agreed.

  “He’s obviously not,” I retorted.

  “Please,” my mom said with a laugh. “If he was any more into you he’d be following you around like a lost puppy.”

  “He’s dating other people,” I countered.

  “Thought we already concluded that he’s not firin’ on all cylinders,” my dad pointed out.

  I didn’t want to talk about Bishop. Not with my parents or anyone else. Not while the burn of betrayal still tingled under my skin.

  “He’ll come running back,” my mom said reassuringly. “They always do.”

  “Maybe I don’t want him to,” I replied.

  Both my parents started laughing. It was both annoying and infuriating.

  “Charlie Bear,” my dad said, reaching out to pat my hand. “Don’t lie to yourself.”

  “He’s banging other people.”

  “You love him,” my mom said, rolling her eyes. “And you already know that he hasn’t actually done anything wrong.”

  “One,” I grit out through my teeth. “I never said I loved him. And two, he’s clearly not in love with me if he’s been banging Tabitha of all people.”

  “Men are idiots,” my mom said, making my dad huff with laughter. “They’ll bang anything when they’re lonely.”

  “Low hanging fruit,” my dad added. “If things are hard, we gravitate to what’s easy.”

  “Watch it,” my mom said, raising an eyebrow.

  “Not sayin’ she’s easy,” my dad clarified. “Don’t even know her. I’m sayin’ the situation with her was easy. No feelin’ or stress. No commitment.”

  “I don’t care,” I said, smacking the table. “I don’t care if he technically wasn’t doing anything wrong. He can’t stick with easy. Fuck him.”

  “Alright,” my mom said firmly. “Fuck him.”

  “Fuck him,” my dad repeated.

  “I’m not bringing him coffee tomorrow,” my mom announced.

  “I’ll spit on him,” my dad replied. “What’s he gonna do about it?”

  “Ooh, that’s a good one,” my mom said, nodding. “I’ll pretend like he’s not even there.”

  “We won’t even acknowledge him,” my dad agreed. “Except the spitting.”

  “Just stay out of it,” I ordered. “Both of you.”

  My parents both smiled.

  “You’re not funny,” I grumbled. “None of this is funny.”

  “I know,” my mom said, kissing the side of my head with a loud smacking noise. “But it’ll all work out. I promise.”

  “Come on,” my dad said, standing up. “Shit’ll seem easier after you get some sleep.”

  “He’s right,” my mom said as she followed him.

  A few minutes later, I was tucked in next to my mom. They hadn’t even mentioned making the kitchen table into a bed, just got into their queen at the end of the trailer and scooted over so I could slide in next to her. It reminded me of when I was little and I’d crawl in with them after a nightmare. I always climbed in next to my mom, never my dad, because I’d needed them both but I’d always needed her more. I’d wanted her to know I was there so she’d wrap her arm around my waist and curl around me, protecting me from everything.

  That night, even with the smell of my mom’s hair in my nose, I couldn’t find my way to sleep. I thought about how I’d revamp the cart, what colors I wanted to paint it, what supplies I needed to buy for the list of new drinks that I hadn’t had a chance to make yet. I refused to let my mind wander to Bishop.

  I wasn’t ready to think logically yet. Thinking about Bishop was like prodding at a sore tooth, I couldn’t seem to help myself and then as soon as I let my mind wander in his direction I remembered exactly why I didn’t want to touch that particular soft spot yet. It was too raw.

  I’d let myself believe that neither of us was interested in anyone else. That he’d wait. That it would all work out. It was my own fault, really.

  I’d been so sure about us that I’d walked away, believing it would be temporary.

  I was almost as angry at myself as I was with him.

  I watched the sun come up behind the curtains and smiled as I heard my dad quietly get out of bed. He cursed under his breath as he dropped something heavy on the floor, and then I heard him curse again.

  “I’m awake,” I whispered, keeping my back to him.

  “You get any sleep?” he whispered back.

  “A little.”

  “Meet me outside in half an hour,” he ordered, giving my foot a squeeze through the blankets. “I’ll get us some coffee.”

  “Shit,” I said, sitting straight up.

  “Texted Kara for you last night,” he said, reading my reaction. “She’s openin’ today.”

  “Fuck,” I muttered, falling back on the bed. My mom huffed and rolled away from me, reaching for my dad’s empty place in bed.

  “Just relax,” my dad said. “She’s got it.”

  I nodded and stayed where I was as he left the trailer. I tried to relax, I really did, but within a few minutes, I was up and reaching for my phone. Kara answered on the first ring.

  “You okay?” she asked, without bothering to say hello.

  “I’m fine,” I replied quietly, letting myself out of the trailer. I sat down on one of the lawn chairs out front and stared at the newly built house. “I just needed to get out of there. Sorry I didn’t let you know.”

  “I don’t blame you,” she said flatly. “I heard you leave last night. Your dad texted before I could get worried.”

  “You’re cool opening for me today?” I asked apologetically.

  “Yep,” she replied. “I didn’t really want to stick around there either.”

  “Has it been busy?” I asked, holding my breath.

  “Not really,” she said quietly. “Steady, but not normal.”

  “I didn’t really expect otherwise,” I mumbled.

  “I think we should start spreading it around that they spit in the drinks,” Kara said conversationally. “Fight fire with fire.”

  I choked on a surprised laugh. “No way.”

  “I’m serious,” she said. “I’m done letting people fuck with us.”

  “Bring it down a notch,” I said, smiling. “I don’t think they’ll fuck with us anymore.”

  “Wanna bet,” she said darkly.

  “If they want to keep their jobs, they’ll shut the fuck up about us,” I pointed out. “Plus, Tabitha looked like she was going to shit herself last night.”

  “She showed a little backbone for a second,” Kara said grudgingly. “And then she was trying to hide behind Bishop.” She cackled. “Did you see that?”

  “It’s burned into my memory,” I replied dryly.

  “Yeah,” Kara said with a sigh. “That whole situation was fucked.”

  “I told him I didn’t want a relationship,” I reminded her… and myself.

  “Still,” she said. “He didn’t have to go out fucking crazy bitches.”

  “That’s fair.”

  “And he brought her to our house? On what planet did he think that was going to go over well?”

  “He lives there, too.”

  “Then he should move the hell out,” she grumbled.

  “Calm down,” I said, comforted by the fact that she seemed even angrier than I was about the whole thing. “He can do what he wants.”

  Kara was quiet.

  “My dad figured out how to save the cart,” I said after a moment. “Well, sort of.”

  “Yes,” Kara hissed. “He’s going to scare the crap out of them, right? Please tell me he’s planning on going in to their work—no! He’s going to their houses, isn’t he?”

  “Neither,” I said, laughing. “We’re going to move the cart and rebrand.”

  “Oh.”

  “We’ll be at the new location starting Monday.”

  “Damn, Casper doesn’t mess around,” she said with admiration. “Well, put me to work. What do you need me to do?”

  We talked for a few more minutes about how she could help and we hung up when my dad stopped by the cart for our coffees. I stayed in my spot, enjoying the sun on my face until he pulled back up in front of the trailer driving my mom’s SUV.