“He is very fond of you.”
My eyes stayed trained to the floor. “We have a common goal of making sure Clementine is happy despite the sadness surrounding the death of my sister.”
“Hmmm . . . yes, the child.”
I didn’t like the way he’d said that. “Clementine,” I reaffirmed.
“Yes, Clementine.”
Chills ran down my spine. I didn’t like the way he’d said her name.
“Are you going outside?” he asked.
“No, I was just making sure the door was locked,” I lied and then stepped back, not sure why but knowing I didn’t want to be alone with him.
“Seamus.” Michael’s voice sounded like a warning.
The man turned and walked toward Michael. “There you are, we need to talk.”
With a deep breath, I tuned them out and went back into the living room, where I sat on the sofa and watched Michael and this man discuss something heated. When they went out the back door, I took advantage of the coast being clear.
Frazzled and done, I slipped out the front door without saying goodbye to anyone. Peyton was waiting for me outside and I didn’t want to chance another uncomfortable conversation with anyone today. I’d call Michael tomorrow and explain. Mental exhaustion had long since set in and I just wanted to go home. I needed to see Logan.
Peyton drove a silver Prius, and she had parked as close to the house as the trail of cars would allow. I walked down the sidewalk in my black pumps that were demanding to be taken off, and when I saw her flash her lights, I was thankful I didn’t have much farther to go.
Bracing myself for an onslaught of questions I didn’t want to have to answer, I swung open the passenger door and collapsed into the seat.
“Are you okay?” she asked.
The concern in her voice was hard to deny and it eased my agitation. “I will be. I just want to get home and out of these clothes.”
She pressed the gas and started driving. “Do you want to talk about it?”
I looked down at the new black trench I had bought—guaranteed to repel the rain—and surprisingly found myself wanting to tell her everything. “I do, Peyton, just not today.”
“Okay. No pressure from me,” she said.
Mascara came away on my fingertips when I rubbed my eyes, suddenly more tired than I’d felt in a very long time. To avoid the awkward silence, I simply said, “Like I said in my text, the new nanny’s car broke down and Michael needed his back.”
She nodded. “Yeah, I get it. He’s still an asshole.”
“Peyton, he’s not. He wants the nanny to be able to take Clementine where she needs to go. I get it. And besides, it feels wrong driving my dead sister’s car.”
The traffic was light but still she eased up on the gas, perhaps to give us more time. “As opposed to driving your drug addict sister’s car?”
I hated that I couldn’t tell her the truth. Tell her that Michael had told everyone my sister was in rehab when in reality, he had no idea where she had been. But that information was linked to the missing drugs, and the fewer people who knew about that situation, the better.
Michael and I had gone to the police station separately this morning. We were both told trace amount of drugs were found in Lizzy’s system but there was evidence of long-term addiction. This only reaffirmed the preliminary police report that she was, more than likely, a victim of a drug deal gone bad.
During his visit, Michael had to fess up to not knowing her whereabouts for the past three and a half months, and that didn’t sit well with him. It was on record that Lizzy wasn’t in drug rehab, and now he would have to watch what he said during his campaign so as not to contradict what he had already told others. Of course, he wasn’t talking about it to me.
That was all I knew.
However, I was certain he had to be a suspect.
He hadn’t told me that, though.
He hadn’t told me much.
Peyton’s eyes were on me. “Elle, did you hear me?”
When I turned to look at her, out of nowhere, I found myself laughing so hard I couldn’t even get my words out in one cohesive sentence. “When you . . . put it . . . that way . . . I guess it shouldn’t really matter.”
Peyton reached her hand over and took mine. It wasn’t until then that I realized I was crying. It was the laughter that prevented me from speaking; it was the sobs that had gotten stuck in my throat. “It’s okay, Elle, let it out.”
If only she could really understand, but then again, I wasn’t even certain I did.
My life had changed so much in the past three months. Before coming to Boston, my biggest worry was what take-out restaurant to eat from and what television show I wanted to accompany the meal. With everything that was happening around me, my life should have felt tilted, off balance, but instead it felt more right than it ever had. And I knew why. I also knew I had to tell Logan everything. I’d intended to tell him about how broken I was the night he came back to me, but then he told me about Lizzy and I just couldn’t.
Sitting here, thinking through everything, I realized Logan was the only real thing in my life. Maybe the only real thing I’d ever had in my life, and I couldn’t lose him. I had to have faith in him. I couldn’t continue to keep secrets from him—not about Michael and not about me.
Tomorrow would be the day of reckoning.
“Are you sure you don’t want me to come in?” Peyton asked when she pulled up to my place.
“No, I’m fine. It’s been a long day. I’m exhausted and just want to go to bed.”
“Okay, call me tomorrow if you need anything. I’ll be at the boutique for a few hours in the morning doing inventory.”
“Peyton, I don’t want you going there alone. I finished everything yesterday. There’s nothing left for you to do.”
“There’s always something to do and you know it. Besides, I refuse to let some asshole scare me. But if it makes you feel better, Declan doesn’t have to work until the afternoon and he’s coming with me.”
I put my arms out and hugged her fiercely. “I’m so sorry.”
She returned my hug. “Stop saying that. It wasn’t your fault and I’m fine.”
I drew in a breath and tried to give her a smile. “Thank you, for everything.”
As I got out, she yelled, “Don’t forget, call me if you need anything.”
My eyes landed on Logan’s vehicle and my heart started to thump wildly. “I will.”
The Range Rover was parked under the trees across the street, but I still saw it. He was here. Waiting for me.
The squeak of my front door made me jump. When I turned around, it was open and Logan was standing there watching me, one shoulder pressed against the doorframe. His beautiful hair was slicked back and I knew he must have recently showered. Wearing a pair of black track pants, a white T-shirt, no shoes or socks, and with his hands in his pockets, he couldn’t have looked sexier. My pulse started to race with each step I took closer to him. I had really missed him today despite our earlier argument.
All I could do was hope he wasn’t still upset. As I got closer, I just wasn’t certain. There was a blank look on his face, but that was all I saw. The brooding side I’d seen this morning was definitely gone.
“You’re home,” I said with a smile.
A slight nod acknowledged what was obvious and a hand on the small of my back guided me inside.
As soon as my feet hit the wooden floor of the front entrance, I reached back and took one, then the other, shoe off.
I could feel his eyes on me and once my shoes were off, his hands were on the front of my coat and unbuttoning my trench with an energy that electrified the air. “I’m sorry about the way I left things this morning,” he whispered in my ear.
A thrill of excitement ran through me as his warm breath swooshed down my neck.
Like a whirlwind, I turned and flung my arms around his neck, all but collapsing against his strong body. “No, I’m the one who’s sorry. I should have listened to your concerns.”
In that way he knows how to make me feel like I’m the only thing that matters, he took my face between his strong, powerful hands. “Hey, talk to me. What’s going on? Why did Peyton drive you home? Did the Mercedes break down? Why wouldn’t you have called me?”