Beauty (A Midsummer Suspense Tale) by Asha King Page B

kitchen and storefront so no one could slip through while the shop was busy, and manned things while Bryar shadowed Gina during a stock delivery.
    Bryar was reviewing supplies and jotting down notes about stock on a clipboard when Gina entered the back room with a yawn. “I think we’ve done more business today than the entire time we’ve been open.”
    Bryar glanced at the clock on the wall—it was four-thirty in the afternoon. The place stayed open until six. “Standing room only still?”
    Gina pulled a chair out from against the wall and plopped herself down, slipping off her shoes to massage her feet. “I had to put a sign on the door, no more than six at a time. Not that anyone really steals—so much is under the counter, it’s hard to—but I can’t keep an eye on everyone. Brennen’s running cash for a few minutes to give me a break.”
    “I’m sorry—”
    Gina waved her off before she could continue. “It’s not your fault. It’ll die down. In the meantime, we’re making damn good money because I don’t allow loitering in the store so they have to buy something . Have you talked to him?”
    Bryar gave her a skeptical look. She set down the clipboard and leaned against the counter. “He’s probably not still in town.” Even though the lights were on last night . She didn’t mention that, though, didn’t think she should tell even Gina about it. Sawyer had clearly come to Midsummer for some privacy. She wouldn’t risk any more of it.
    “You’re doing a good job, you know. Here.”
    “I’ve barely done anything,” Bryar said with a roll of her eyes.
    “This is total insanity you’ve been thrown into and you’re keeping up with everything I’m tossing at you. You’re doing great.” Her gaze trailed to the floor and she sighed, setting one foot down and raising the other across her knee to massage the heel. “I just thought you should know that. Remember, I worked for someone who never said a word of praise about anything I did.”
    “From what I hear, you didn’t ‘work’—you were a slave,” Bryar blurted out. She braced for Gina to correct her or tell her that was out of line, but Gina only nodded instead.
    “Pretty much. And, you know, all I wanted was a kind word from that woman. I didn’t remember my mom. I didn’t have anyone. And if she’d just said, ‘Good job, Gina’, that would’ve meant so much to me.”
    At least I always had that much , Bryar thought. Sure, Aunt Donna always found something critical to say. But Merry and Lora tried over the years, no matter how badly Bryar screwed up. And she was loved, she knew that much. And never abused or neglected.
    “I hope your stepmother rots in prison for like ever,” Bryar said.
    “Cheers to that,” Gina replied with a small smile. “Some days I wake up and I...” A shrug. “It’s like I think I’m going to wake up there, in the attic, and everything else was just a dream. And I’m afraid to open my eyes, like I can’t believe she’s really away for good.”
    “They won’t let her out? Not ever?”
    “Not after untangling all the fraud, plus the attempted murder. Never mind me—don’t try to burn alive the beloved lawyer son of one of Midsummer’s prominent families.”
    “It shouldn’t have taken so long,” Bryar muttered. “I mean, I don’t live in town and didn’t really know, but Christ, everyone else should’ve.”
    Gina shrugged and whatever anger she likely felt was well-tucked away—she clearly didn’t have a temper like Bryar did. “That’s how this town works, you know? Ignore what you don’t want to see. Of course the pretty, wealthy white lady wouldn’t do such a thing.”
    That wasn’t surprising, Bryar supposed. But she seriously wanted to hunt down and punch anyone who knew and ignored it, especially when Gina was a child.
    “I get the fraud,” Bryar said. “I mean, sorta—I see wanting money. But did she ever give a reason, even a deranged crazy lady one, for