Revenge Served Warm

Monroe Delaney was that guy.

The guy that couldn't be bothered to give a shit about anything because his life was too perfect to see beyond his own circle.

Everything came easy for him, from sports to grades to girls, and he didn't care about any of it.

Everyone from school knew him, knew who he was, but there's an old saying. More people know Jack Fool than Jack Fool knows people.

I felt that keenly in the moment as Monroe Delaney looked around my office, his bored expression passing over my bookcase before leaning on the sofa behind where his lawyer was talking to me.

Talking at me.

"Miss Harmon, are you listening to me?" the man asked loudly, making Monroe turn to look at me as well.

I looked at his lawyer quickly, my face going red. "Like I already told you on the phone and in the email, I'm not selling. Sorry. This place has been in my family for four generations now and we're..."

"You have to see that this town is dying, Miss Harmon. It's a matter of time before every small business on this little main street is gone, most of them are already boarded over! We're offering you three times more than what it's worth!"

"You aren't," I disagreed quickly before he could go on. "Because this place is priceless to me! Do you know how long Harmon's Books and Collectables has been in this spot in this town? We're the oldest family-owned business and it's literally on the register of Historic Landmarks!"

"This building is about to be condemned," the lawyer smirked.

I looked at Monroe, who was back to being bored again as he looked at pictures on my wall. "Monroe, you used to come in here with your grandmother as a kid! You used to come in here for story time and the events held here when..."

Monroe snorted and gave me an incredulous look. "Don't pretend like you know anything about me! Who the fuck are you to act like you know me?"

"We graduated high school in the same class," I told him flatly, irritated that he didn't remember me.

"Bullshit," he snorted, looking me over again. "You look like you're still in school."

"Charming as always," I shot right back. "I'm not selling. I don't care what your snake of a lawyer tries, I will rally this whole town against you, and you and I both know that won't be hard to do. We all know what you're trying to do, Monroe, buying up all this land and trying to build all those Air B & B's for the tourist farm and country destination attraction your sister is building. We don't care what you do on your property, but keep it out of town! We don't need more Air B & B's or rustic coffee shops or bistros or clothing boutiques or antique cubbies! She's already brought in as many of those businesses as can be sustained out here, the town can't survive with more of them, especially if it's just a seasonal attraction! Maybe SHE can afford to keep businesses that are only open three months a year, but the rest of the town still has to make a living! We don't..."

"She's done nothing but help this town, everyone says so!"

"Yeah, they liked it fine at first until you started buying everything up and running them out of business so that she could turn the town into 'an aesthetic choice'. Some of us aren't going anywhere and I won't let you drive me out of business!"

"Until I put a Barnes and Noble on the corner," he smirked. "No one will come to buy your overpriced books here anymore. Or if this place burns to the ground."

I showed him my teeth in a mock smile. "Barnes and Noble doesn't sell antique books or first editions that you can't get anywhere else. Half of my customers are online, Monroe, and the other half drives in just to see my store and my books! Not to mention my literary antiques as well."

He snorted and rolled his eyes. "Like they can't find bookmarks on Etsy."

"Is the Jungle Book Zoetrope your grandmother bought you from here still in your house, Monroe?" I asked pointedly. "It was always your favorite. Signed by Upton Sinclair himself and stamped on the bottom with the maker's mark. She always told you no, that you weren't responsible enough for such a precious and easily breakable piece, but you begged her. She got it for you for Christmas when we were in the fifth grade. Do you still have it? Can you get THAT on Etsy, Monroe? I want you and your pet snake to leave and no more threats. I have this whole meeting recorded," I told them, pointing at the camera on top of the bookshelf behind me. "It's in the cloud, so you can't burn the evidence of that threat. Expect to see it at the next town meeting, if you bother to go. I'm eager to show everyone what a real snake you've always been."

He smirked then and came closer to lean on my desk. "What's wrong, kid? Someone have a crush when they were younger? An unrequited dream make you bitter? Mad at me for not noticing you or saying no to you when you asked me out or something? What was it?"

"Get over yourself! The only thing I ever noticed about you was what an entitled shit you were!"

"Right," he smirked, looking me over and cocking his head. "So you never imagined me noticing you and getting you out of this shithole town?"

"This town has never been a shithole, Monroe, but thanks for letting everyone know how you feel," I gestured at the camera again. "And I never had a thing for you. Ever. You obviously don't remember me, but you probably remember the scandal with Mr Breckenridge?"

"The teacher who took the girl to Vegas when she turned eighteen to marry her?"

"Yeah. Hi. That was me. I was Mrs. Breckenridge for three whole months until my dad tracked us down and explained to me why what he'd been doing was wrong after putting Mr. Breckenridge in the hospital and having him arrested. So yeah, I was too busy to notice you beyond seeing what a shit you were."

"Fucking hell. I do remember you. Cindy? Cinda?"

"Lilli," I rolled my eyes.

"Right. Little Lilli with the big brown curls and black eyes. I do remember you. I remember your picture in the news and how scared and confused you looked. It said you were eighteen, but you looked so little standing next to him. That was super fucked up, what he did to you. The grooming and all that. I actually read the article because nothing interesting ever happened here and that was interesting and fucked up at the same time. So... did you and him fuck before you were married?"

"I'm not talking to you about that. I asked you to leave."

"Just tell me, I was always curious if it was before or after."

"He never touched me before, not once. He waited until I was eighteen. He just talked and made promises and told me things, that was all. He... wasn't as bad as everyone made it out to be. I mean, I know it was bad, what he did... but he didn't see it as bad. We just... really got along well and..."

"Yeah, he really groomed you well," he chuckled, his eyebrows climbing. "I don't remember him much. He was all AP classes and that wasn't my scene. How about you and I talk about this, Lilli? Not the grooming shit, but this," he told me, leaning closer as he gestured behind him to my store. "Tonight? After the store closes? I'll take you to dinner, just you and I and we can hash this out."

"You think you're going to charm me out of my family business?!?" I asked incredulously.

"More hoping to charm you out of them librarian panties first," he teased, his brown eyes sparkling.

"Fuck off, Monroe! Get out of my store!" I told him angrily, standing up and moving to open my office door for both of them.

He laughed and stood up, looking down at me from almost twice my height. "Fiery and hard to get. Okay. John, leave this place for last, alright? We'll gather up all the others first and let her come to me on her knees, begging me to take this dump off her hands."

They left, Monroe still smirking down at me as he walked by.

Assholes!

Grumpy now, I went back to work as I thought about everything and my plan for the merchant's meeting that Thursday. What an egotistical prick, thinking he could smile and get his way!

It had probably always worked for him in the past. He was hot, rich, athletically built, and still young. He had probably always smiled and got his way, or flirted and got his way. Anything he couldn't smile at, he could wave money at.

When I saw movement across the street, I moved to see out the window as he and his lawyer left Gleesons Butcher and got into a Porsche. I wondered then why Monroe was with his lawyer. Couldn't his lawyer do everything for him?

I guessed maybe reluctant sellers would react better seeing that it was someone local trying to buy them out.

Going to the counter, I picked up my phone and called David.

"Gleesons," he answered tiredly.

"Hey! It's me, what did you tell them?" I asked, going back to the window.

I saw David appear in his and lift a hand at me. "Same thing you did, I'm guessing. Told him to fuck right off. Hey... he asked about you. Monroe did? He stayed silent until they were about to leave, then he asked if I knew you. I said of course I did, we all knew each other, and he asked what you were into. What you liked? What was that about?"

"He was trying to be charming and talk me into selling by asking me out. I told him no, but I think he's going to keep trying. Martha and Slim are still strong, right?"

"Yeah, she's adamant they leave something for their grandson, even though he's in Florida right now. They think he's going to need it to fall back on. Not sure about Evy, though... she seemed pretty upset last time I talked to her. I think she's kind of done with how bad she's been doing? I keep trying to get people to go down and buy her flowers and all that, but no one does that anymore. Not around here."

"I told her to keep doing the consignments, it was bringing people in," I sighed.

"She couldn't leave their shit alone and you heard what Deanna said. She had her display perfect and Evy would have it all changed five minutes after she left. Her store, her displays and rules. When Deanna pulled out, the other three did too, all of them going to the same new place over in Ridgemont. We told her to adapt or die, but she won't listen. She's too much of a boomer to listen to people like us."

I laughed, shaking my head. "You're almost fifty, David! You can't call her a boomer, she's only a few years older than you!"

"But she ACTS like a boomer! I don't! That's the difference! You and I both know that if we didn't need her to stand strong with us, we would have let her business die a natural death and retire. Now she's acting like she wants to let it all go since she's bleeding money so hard."

"I told her to stop contracting so much shit out!" I huffed impatiently. "She has to stop ordering so much when she KNOWS that no one is going to buy it and it will die in her cases! And how many cases of vases does she need in the back? She has vases back there from the seventies that she has never opened! Why does she keep ordering all this new shit when she can't sustain with what she has on hand? It's her own fault! She is So bad at all of this!"

"Hey, I have a couple prime ribs that I'm about to have to mark down. You wanna come over and I'll grill them after work?"

"Sounds perfect, actually," I sighed.

"Your dad called and told me your iron was low again. You having any issues?"

"I'm ok, I just forget sometimes."

"How does anyone forget to eat?" he asked with a laugh as he rubbed his generous belly. "Alright, kid. Hang in there, ok? We won't let those assholes win and turn our town into a stupid destination spot."

"Six at your place?" I asked, not wanting to talk about that anymore.

"See you then," he agreed and hung up.

I puttered around the store, but I didn't get much done as I stayed near the front and watched out the window. All I could do was keep track of that stupid silver Porshe as it went down Main Street.

When I locked the front door just after five, that Porshe was just down the block on the other side now and Monroe was leaning on it, on the phone. His eyes went to me as I turned and he stood off the car, starting towards me as he got off the phone.

I headed across the street to Gleesons, since it was still open with a customer inside getting an order.

Monroe caught up to me as I made the sidewalk.

"Lilli! Hey! I want to talk to you a minute! Can I take you to dinner so we can talk?" he asked, following me into Gleesons.

"Hey, Lil! Be done in two and grab those steaks so we can go eat!" David called happily, though he gave Monroe a grumpy look.

"I have plans," I told Monroe.

"Gross," he snorted. "I get you like older guys, but that dude's a pig. You can do so much better!"

I rolled my eyes and sat up on one of the stools near the counter.

"Unless you're ordering something, you should leave," David told Monroe as he took the signed credit card receipt from Olivia. "Thanks, Livy, see you tomorrow."

"Bye, David! Bye, Lilli!" Olivia called, scowling at Monroe.

"How long until you're closed out, Uncle David?" I asked pointedly.

He snorted, eyeing Monroe. "Give me five. Gotta close out the drawer. Livy loves to talk."

Monroe leaned in closer to me. "That makes more sense, but he doesn't look like family," he noted as David took his drawer back to where the safe was.

"He used to be married to my Aunt Lydia. My mom's sister. She died, but you probably don't remember that either."

"Lydia Conroy? The bridge chick?"

"The bridge is named after her, yeah," I rolled my eyes.

"Why'd she kill herself? And why name the bridge after her?"

"The new bridge is named after her."

"Yeah, she still jumped off the bridge there. Why?"

"I don't know, it was before I was born and mom never talked about it."

"Didn't your mom..."

"Leave me alone, Monroe. I told you no, the answer isn't going to change. Leave me alone."

"Why'd your mom kill herself?"

"You really are a complete asshole. David! I'll meet you at your house! I'm walking!"

"You sure, kiddo? Just hold on and I'll drive! That prick still here? Hey! I'm closed! Get out!"

Monroe leaned in closer, taking hold of my face and forcing me to look at him. "Lilli, I just want an hour, alright? We can talk about everything catch up. You'll get a nice meal and we can..."

"I said no! Hands off!" I yelled loudly.

David came out of the back and yanked up a huge butcher's knife, his face red.

Monroe backed away, his hands up. "I'm going. Lilli, I mean it. I just want to talk and catch up, alright?"

"Catch up on what? We have never known each other! Get lost, creep!"

He stepped close and picked up my phone before moving back to the door again, holding a finger up at David as he opened my phone. "This is my number, babe. Text me and we can talk," he told me as his own phone rang. He'd just called himself from my phone! "Here," he told me, handing me my phone as his phone kept ringing.

I ended the call and hopped off the stool. "Fuck off, Monroe. I'm not calling you, EVER, and I am blocking your number. Get lost."

He only grinned as he left.

David half snarled as he slammed the knife down and pulled his apron off. "That's gonna be a fucking issue, Lilli. From all I've heard about him, he takes what he wants and doesn't much care if there's a yes or a no involved. Pays any protests off. Heard he got in a spot in college and Daddy had to come take care of it, ended up moving him to another college. Daddy had to show up there, too, then he was brought back to live under Daddy's roof so he could keep a tighter leash on him. The old man doesn't care what his kids get up to, as long as they don't land in jail. Come on, let's go get some food. I'll start the grill and get a shower real quick and dinner will be ready by six," he promised, leading me out the back to his old truck.

After dinner, he tried to get me to stay and watch an NCIS show with him, but I hated those kinds of shows. I told him another time and walked the single block to my house.

It had been my parent's house, and their parents before them, and theirs before them. The old house was older than the store and packed full of old books, old antiques, and things that were meant to be restored and sold. After my grandfather had died, it had all just piled up. My dad wasn't as fast as he was. When my grandmother died, my father had been upset that she had left the store to me after all the work he'd put into it, but he and I knew the truth of why.

My mother and her sister had both killed themselves. She wanted to give me something to live for.

I didn't have their sickness, though, I had my father's drive.

Now he was traveling with his new girlfriend in Argentina that he'd met online and letting me run things alone. He kept in touch, but mostly through Uncle David, who he'd been best friends with growing up. It wasn't hard to run the store, but the house? The house made me anxious. It was so cluttered and I didn't know where anything was or what was where. Even opening a door to a room that wasn't mine, full of boxes and crates, gave me an anxiety attack. I didn't know what to do with all of it! I had tried taking one box with me a day to work to try and get through for a while, but I made the mistake of starting in the basement. I hadn't even realized how enormous the basement was until I decided to remove one box at a time and work through it.

My house was still just as full as it had been, and now I had anxiety on top of the clutter stressing me out and shutting me down.

My solution was was put everything in the extra rooms and shut the doors. Out of sight, out of mind.

I did still try and work one box a week, though, still taking things from the basement since everything down there was so old.

Going straight to my room, I curled up and opened my laptop to check emails.

Almost as soon as I got comfortable, my phone chirped.

Probably David making sure I got home alright.

Pulling out my phone, I stared at it for a moment, not understanding what I was seeing. It was from a number I didn't know, but all that was in the message was a link to a local news station.

Clicking it, I turned on the sound on my phone, but it wasn't a video, it was a news article.

The headline was glaring and made my nose burn.

'Local Business Leader Sasha Harmon Leave Behind A Legacy Of Heartache'

I stared at it a long moment, my eyes catching on the typo. Like she wasn't important enough to double-check the spelling or read over the article before posting it.

The next sentence made me choke up as well.

'Our small town is in turmoil as this tragedy shakes the foundations, but none feel it so keenly as four-year-old Lillian Harmon who doesn't understand why her mother isn't coming home for dinner anymore.'

It was contrived and meant to tug on heartstrings, and I hated it.

I hadn't seen this article before.

I didn't scroll to read more, closing it as I wiped away tears. Looking at the strange number, I shook my head and typed out a response.

'Fuck off, Monroe. What kind of shitball move was that?' - me

'I wanted you to know I looked you up so I could see your story. You've piqued my interest and that doesn't happen often. There are more articles about your family, a lot of them. Your mom and aunt especially.' - M.D.

His picture and name were on them now, like he had shared them.

'There are articles about you as well. The one I'd read when we were in HS when Mr. B took you.' - M.D.

'You were in all of his AP classes. How did such a smart girl end up stuck here?' -M.D.

I hit his contact and blocked him, feeling miserable and sad now.

Asshole.

Sleep was a long time coming that night, and when I did sleep, nightmares woke me up.

I left early to go to the shop so I had time to stop in the coffee shop before I started.

Of course Monroe was there.

Standing near the door like he was waiting for me.