That got to me.
Five years ago, when I left the village, it was Doris's grandfather who scraped together five hundred dollars so I could afford the trip out — and without that five hundred, there'd be no Job Delgado standing here today.
The old man was gone now, but I still remembered what he'd asked of me before he died.
Whatever I'd once felt for Doris had burned away to nothing in the last half hour,
but the promise I'd made to Grandpa Leonard — that I hadn't forgotten.
I pulled the silver necklace from my neck and looked at Doris.
‘We always said I'd replace this silver necklace with a diamond one. I brought it today — ……’
‘Brought what?!’
Oscar stepped forward, snatched the necklace from my hand, and threw it on the ground.
‘Don't tell me there's a diamond necklace in that pile of junk! Broke as you are, even if you had one it'd be fake!’
‘Enough, Dory. Don't waste your breath on him. It won't sound good if it gets back to Hubie.’
At the mention of Hubert,
that last flicker of hesitation in Doris's eyes vanished.
Her gaze dropped to the necklace on the ground. She stepped on it and ground her heel down hard.
The dirty water and mud caked on her shoe smeared straight across the silver, and the stench of it hit me before I could look away.
My chest clenched tight.
Five years. Women throwing themselves at me, daughters from every prominent family angling for an arrangement — more than I could count, and I'd never once wavered. All that time I thought I was keeping faith with something rare, and it turned out to be a lump of mud.
I was done. There was nothing left worth holding on to.
Tom Finch would be here soon to report on the old-town redevelopment progress.
Given who I actually was, the last thing I needed was too many people learning about this kind of personal mess.
That was exactly why I'd dressed down and driven that beat-up work truck.
All I wanted now was to leave.
But the moment I turned around, Doris blocked my path.
She pointed at the puddle of filthy water on the ground and the gifts soaking in it, chin lifted, voice dripping with contempt.
‘Take your trash with you!’
‘And scrub my family's yard while you're at it! It's filthy — just looking at it makes me sick!’
Lola saw her chance and shoved a broom into my arms.
‘That's right! Clean it all up! A broke nobody like you — sweeping our yard is about all you're good for!’
Five years in the business world had taught me enough.
A man with nothing to hide walks away clean. Petty people cling.
I wasn't going to waste another word on them.
I unclenched my fists, picked up the broom, and swept the mud from the yard, stroke by slow stroke.
Crushed letters. The hair clip I'd bought for Doris. The clothes.
All of it went into the trash, along with everything we'd been.
I'd just finished sweeping and hadn't even set the broom down
when a grating horn blared from down the road.
A beat-up old Mercedes swayed to a stop in front of the Pruitt house.
The door swung open, and out climbed a man in an ill-fitting suit.
That slick, over-gelled hair told me instantly — Hubert Chavez.
He was a lot heavier in person than in the photo.
His bulk squeezed through the car door with visible effort,
and his first move was to kick my truck, spit on the ground, and curse.
‘Which dumbass parked this thing in the way?!’
I cursed Tom Finch ten thousand times in my head.
The man had built Grand Horizon Group from nothing alongside me, and he was solid in every way — except he let too many clowns hang around him.
What kind of bottom-feeder was this, and how did he even land a job at Grand Horizon Group?
The second Tom got here, I was going to deal with this.
‘Mr. Pruitt! Mrs. Lambert! I'm here!’
