After a brief silence, Dashiell said, "Looks like it's getting dark. Do you have a place to stay around here?"
"The company's instruction is for me to stay at the staff house."
He fell silent for a moment, his brow furrowing slightly. "Staff house? Are you sure?" It was an odd arrangement. In fact, the staff houses were not in good condition, especially for a woman like her.
"Yeah, that's what they told me," she responded doubtfully, unaware of the actual condition of the staff houses.
"Look, what made you choose to come here, to a secluded place like this with seemingly no future?"
"It's not my choice. The company sent me here," she clarified. "No, my manager actually proposed the idea to transfer me here."
"Your manager? Who's that?"
Through gritted teeth, she expressed, "Damon Cooper. You might not know him. He's the most cunning man I've ever known."
"What did he do?"
"He plotted behind my back to move me here."
"Unbelievable," he muttered, taken aback. "What was his motive for doing something like that?"
She shrugged, her eyes widened in disbelief. "I wish I knew," she replied with a bitter edge in her voice. "Seems like he had his own reasons, but they're beyond me."
"I'm sorry you had to go through that," he responded sympathetically. "Do you think there's more to this than what it seems?"
"Yeah, we were actually together," she confessed, her voice tinged with both pain and frustration. "But he betrayed me for someone else. Then, out of the blue, came up this plan to transfer me here."
Understanding the root cause behind her distress, Dashiell got it why he found her on the verge of despair when he saved her on the ferry.
"Now it all makes sense," he murmured without turning his head.
"What do you mean by that?"
"I believe there's something fishy going on," he replied, hinting at a suspicion without expanding further on his thoughts about her supposed attempt to end her life.
"I can sense that too," she said, her voice tinged with uncertainty. "Do you think I made a mistake by coming here?"
He observed her uncertainty and then replied reassuringly, "No, I don't think it was a mistake. Sometimes challenges lead to unexpected opportunities. Don't worry about that. We'll figure this out. You've got my back and together, we'll turn this project around for the better."
"Are you sure? Can we really make a difference here?"
He nodded, masking his uncertainty, choosing not to reveal it to her. "Yes, I'm sure. With dedication and the right approach, we can definitely make a difference here."
Only the windshield wipers swishing and the raindrops hitting interrupted the silence, heavy and oppressive, enveloping them. She exhaled slowly, peering at him from under her lashes. Dashiell kept his gaze ahead, his dark brown hair at the back of his neck curling up, his stubbled jaw clenched. To many, he might be considered handsome, but she wasn't interested in a man. Not now, not ever again.
He started whistling, the sharp sound grating against her frayed nerves. She touched her temple, feeling the strain. "Is there a convenience store around here?" She attempted to soften her tone.
His blue eyes fixed on her, radiating a scorching heat that seemed to wilt everything in its wake. "Sure. There's only one store next to the community house."
She couldn't contain a nervous giggle, but Dashiell's intense glare swiftly silenced it.
Minutes later, she dared a peek at his face, only to find it hardened like chiseled granite. Way to go, Trish, she scolded herself in her mind. She had managed to offend someone on Azure Bay Island before even reaching her destination.
As they entered the small town, the rain stopped, and she perked up at the sight of quaint country cottages along the street. They exuded a comforting atmosphere, despite appearing a bit worn-out. She thought a fresh coat of paint could easily spruce them up.
Tree branches formed a natural arch over the road, creating a living canopy. The moon, nestled slightly between clouds and horizon, transformed raindrops on leaves into shimmering diamonds.
Everywhere she glanced, children played joyfully—splashing in puddles, darting across the lawns, their laughter forming a carefree symphony. She felt an overwhelming sense of homecoming, a familiar ache covering her heart like old dust settling.
"Unbelievable," she murmured softly, sinking back into her seat. The fear of never discovering a true sense of home clawed at her, yet she forced it away, stealing a glance at Dashiell, whose expression remained stoic and unreadable.
In a swift motion, he maneuvered the pickup into a parking lot, abruptly halting with a jolt. She avoided meeting his eyes, diverting her attention to the sign above the door. Trisha glanced to her right, noticing two rows of gas pumps, and a smile formed on her face.
"X-O Hardware Store", the name of the convenience store catching her interest. "Only in a small town," she mused to herself.
"That's it. We're here."
"What do you mean? Why have you stopped?"
"You asked me to give you a lift so I gave you as much of a lift as I could. I can't continue to take you to the house staff. It rained recently and the road was washed out. I can't pass there."
"Do you suggest that I walk?"
"The house staffs are near the X-O store, just a short walk away. You can easily ask someone around here to guide you there," he directed. "Good luck getting there!"
Reaching into her purse, she retrieved a hundred-dollar bill and extended it to him. "I appreciate—"
"Keep it!" Dashiell snapped, his words sharp as he leaned away, his mouth forming a tense line.
Observing his clothes—tattered jeans and the worn truck he drove—she assumed he could probably use the money. She furrowed her brow, perplexed by his refusal. Respecting his decision, she returned the bill to her wallet, shrugged off the jacket, and handed it to him instead.
"Thanks for the ride," she said, opening the door and stepping down from the truck.
Without a glance in her direction, Dashiell shifted the truck into reverse, barely giving her enough time to close the door. With a roar, he accelerated out of the parking lot, the rear wheels kicking up gravel in his departure.
Trisha took a deep breath, then exhaled forcefully. "Thank goodness that's over," she muttered to herself.
Now, her focus shifted to finding a way to locate the staff house and put an end to this unsettling situation. She turned towards the store, feeling her heart pound rapidly, like a child's nervous excitement on their first day of school.
As she walked down the rough, bumpy road, Trisha momentarily forgot about her high heels. Apparently, wearing high heels to look more feminine on this special day was a bad idea. Her misstep on a protruding rock had caused her foot to twist, resulting in a sprain.
"Ouch!" she exclaimed, wincing in pain as she stumbled from the unexpected injury. Grimacing, she muttered a string of curses under her breath, frustrated by the sudden twist of fate. Why did that jerk have to abandon her in the middle of nowhere all by herself? Damn it!