For better or worse, Grey preferred not to share his dyslexia with the world. People could be cruel, or try to take advantage of a perceived weakness. Kelsey didn’t seem the type to do either, but she also didn’t seem like the most discreet girl in town.
“If I have to read my way into this, it’ll never get off the ground. Either someone can show me, or I’ll eventually pay someone to do it.”
Kelsey sat back, her head tipped slightly, assessing him. “Okay. Well, I taught myself how to do a lot of the basics. So, I can show you how to rework some of your site and set you up on Tumblr, Instagram, Facebook, and Twitter.”
Boomerang really was relentless, in the nicest way, of course. What puzzled him most was why this attractive, friendly woman would waste her time pursuing him rather than accept any number of offers she must receive from other guys. Was she crazy or just plain clueless?
“Why do you continue to be so thoughtful when I haven’t been exactly encouraging?” Grey held up a finger. “And don’t say you just want access to my wealthy clients. Be honest.”
Kelsey swallowed before meeting his eyes. “It’s no secret I like you, Grey. You’re a nice guy, and that’s not so easy to find around here. I know you’ve been busy getting your business on track and dealing with your recovery. I thought this would give us an opportunity to get to know each other better.” Her hopeful, open smile nearly killed him.
“That’s what I’ve been afraid you’d say.” Grey leaned forward, grabbed her hand, and looked her in the eyes. “Kelsey, you’re beautiful, kind, and obviously talented, but I don’t want to mislead you. All I can offer in exchange for your help is those real estate leads and friendship. Nothing more personal.”
“How can you be so sure when you haven’t even given me a real chance?” Her lips pursed into a childlike pout.
Grey glanced away, gauging how honestly he should respond. “Because I’m interested in someone else.”
“Really?” Her eyes widened as she pulled back. “I’ve never seen you with anyone in town. I haven’t heard any gossip either.”
“Well, she doesn’t know it yet. At least, I haven’t told her directly.” He grimaced. “It’s complicated. I don’t really have the time for a relationship right now, so I’m waiting to pursue it . . . her.”
“Is it someone I know?” Kelsey’s expression turned curious. Shit. He did not want to tell her about Avery before he told Avery.
Fortunately, he was saved by a call on the business line. “Hang on.” He held up a finger before picking up the receiver. “Backtrax.”
“Is Grey Lowell available?”
“Speaking.”
“Mr. Lowell, this is Richard Donner. You’d left me a message about physical therapy.”
Fucking bad timing. Grey closed his eyes, swiveling away from Kelsey. “Mr. Donner. Thanks for getting back to me so quickly.”
“In your message, you said you underwent ACL surgery in mid-March and have been in therapy since then?”
“Yes. I’ve been in therapy two, sometimes three, times per week, but there may be some conflicts with my current therapist. Plus I’m not making as much progress as I’d expected, so I thought maybe I could come talk to you about your approach. See if it might be a better fit.”
“Why don’t we set up an appointment for tomorrow afternoon at three?”
“Perfect. I’ll see you tomorrow. Thanks.”
Grey hung up the phone and braced himself for Kelsey’s questions before spinning back around. Stunned outrage radiated from every pore on her face.
“What the heck are you doing? Avery is the best PT for miles around.” She leaned forward, jutting out her chin. “You aren’t switching because of me, are you? Do I make you so uncomfortable you can’t even work with my friend?”
“No, Kelsey. It’s got nothing to do with you.” Grey rubbed the area above his knee. “I thought Avery and I could work together and keep the situation with her brother separate. But it’s not working out so well. It’s complicated.”
“Complicated again? Maybe you make things complicated.” She shoved at his good leg. “If you want your knee to be one hundred percent, you should stick with Avery. Seems pretty simple to me.”
“I appreciate your concern, but I think this might be best for everyone.”
Kelsey shook her head, sighing, then bent over to heft her bag over her shoulder. “I don’t understand you at all, Grey Lowell.” She glanced at the manual on his desk. “I’ll leave that for you and Trip. You need to upgrade your site and work on social media to build a clientele. Looks like I’m not the person to help you, though. I wouldn’t want to add any more complications to your life.”
Grey heaved a sigh. “Understood. Thanks for trying, anyway.”
He walked her to the door and watched her get into her car. Her frustrated and confused expression would’ve been humorous if his mood weren’t so heavy.
Back at his desk, he flipped through the manual, trying to read several pages. Predictably, neither the techniques of tracking with his finger or using a blank sheet of paper to block out text seemed to ease the eyestrain. The letters jumbled up too easily. He slammed the book against the desk, knowing his reading frustration wasn’t really what had him upset.
Starting over with another therapist seemed daunting. Even that, however, was a lie. The truth was, he couldn’t imagine not seeing and working with Bambi each week. But given their last conversation, he’d run out of options.
Avery pulled behind the Weenuche Inn. Emma’s great-grandparents had named the eight-room bed-and-breakfast after the Ute tribe native to the area. The authentic woven baskets and clay pots they’d originally displayed still decorated the main lobby and dining areas of the hundred-year-old brick building.
Avery knocked on the back door before waltzing into the kitchen. “Emma?”
Emma emerged from the walk-in pantry carrying a large sack of rice, her fiery red hair piled atop her head under a hairnet. “Hey, didn’t expect to see you. I assume you’re not here to help me prepare dinner.”
“Uh, no.” Avery smiled when Emma swiped the back of her hand across her forehead and uttered phew. “Hey, no need to emphasize how happy you are to avoid that potential disaster.”
“Sorry, couldn’t help it.” Emma grinned then dropped the bag on the counter and grabbed a measuring cup. “So what brings you here at this hour?”
“Well,” Avery began, taking a seat on the top rung of the stepstool beside the counter. “I was wondering about your off-season plans for the place.”
As the words left her mouth, she couldn’t help but draw a parallel to her passive-aggressive approach with Grey yesterday.
“What do you mean?” Emma poured six cups of chicken stock into a pot, more focused on her meal prep than on Avery.
“Do you still use the slow summer weekdays to spruce up the place, make repairs, and such?”
“Sure. We need to repaint a few guest rooms, address one bathroom’s plumbing, and . . . well, the list is long.”
“Did you already line someone up to do it all?” Avery held her breath, hoping Emma hadn’t already signed any contracts. Okay, okay. So she did meddle a little. But only to help the people she loved. Her interference very rarely hurt anyone, and never with intention.
“Not yet.” Emma frowned. “We’re a bit behind schedule this spring.”
Maybe Grey had a small point, though. She should be more direct. “Can I ask you to consider a favor?”
“Sure.” Emma laid out a cutting board and knife then returned to the pantry.
“Could you offer Andy the chance to do some of that work?” Avery called after her. When Emma came out of the pantry looking surprised, Avery hastened to add, “He’s handy. He can do basic plumbing, although he’s not licensed. And he’s got four years’ experience as a house painter.”