When We Let Go, Delancey Stewart [early reader books .txt] 📗
- Author: Delancey Stewart
- Performer: -
Book online «When We Let Go, Delancey Stewart [early reader books .txt] 📗». Author Delancey Stewart
“He is kind of an easy target, I guess. One with a lot of money.”
That made some sense. They must’ve had some plans to blackmail him. “But if they were trying to blackmail Connor, wouldn’t he have known? Why didn’t he just go to the police?”
Miranda shrugged. “Police work is not my specialty.”
Just then Chance and Sam Palmer swaggered through the doors and Miranda’s jaw dropped open.
“Go seat them,” I hissed at her, pushing her from behind the counter.
Adele was making a beeline to help the brothers, but Miranda stepped up, regaining herself. “I’ll help these guys, Adele.”
I watched as Miranda showed them to a booth and managed to hand them menus and get their coffee without spilling a drop. She didn’t manage many words, but at least she hadn’t broken any plates yet.
“Nicely done,” I commended her when we were back out of earshot.
“Thanks,” she said. “Now what about you?”
“What do you mean?”
“You. And the hot writer. He’s off the hook. What are you going to do?”
“Nothing. He hates me. More than ever.” I recalled his angry face from the day before. I had my brother back, maybe that would be enough.
“You’re just trying to talk yourself out of doing anything because you’re scared after Jack was such an ass.”
I gaped at her. “I don’t think the two things are related.”
“Yes they are.” Miranda was twenty-four. And she still lived at home. But maybe she’d hit the nail on the head. I cringed as she continued. “And you’re afraid every man is a jerk at heart, that they’re all going to hurt you like Jack did.”
“That’s not true!” That probably was true…
“You’re scared, Maddie. And when we’re afraid of something, that’s when life is showing us an opportunity.”
“I’m afraid of heights but I don’t plan to jump off the Golden Gate next time I’m in San Fran. I’m not sure your logic holds.” I lifted an eyebrow. It was hard taking sage advice from her, but I knew she was probably right.
“Okay,” she said, spreading her hands in front of her and taking a step back. “Just trying to help. And really, I’m just telling you all the stuff you told me about going after Chance.” She walked away, her ponytail swinging, and circled the restaurant, checking on tables and lingering to take Chance and Sam’s order.
I held my spot at the counter for a few more minutes. I knew I should try to mend things with Connor. If nothing else, I needed him to know that I would never betray him, that I hadn’t sold that photo. Even if he didn’t believe me, I had to try. And I couldn’t imagine never seeing him again.
When I got home that evening, I didn’t give myself time to back out. I pulled off the ugly maroon polo shirt I wore for work and put on a simple white button-down blouse with jeans. I splashed some water on my face and tried to tame my curls, finally giving up. Connor hated me. It wouldn’t matter what I looked like when I went to apologize and try to explain, only that I did it.
I drove to his house on the other side of the meadow with butterflies dive-bombing around in my stomach, my emotions careening wildly. I was nervous and scared, but the fear I felt now was of a purely emotional variety. Connor had nothing to do with Amanda Terry, her father’s arrest made that clear enough. It felt like a redemption to know that at least I hadn’t been completely wrong about that. Connor was a good person. And that was why he deserved my explanation. I just wasn’t sure he’d be willing to hear it.
The pointed deck loomed above my head as I walked to the recessed front door, the stars just beginning to prick points of light in the dark canvas of sky over the house. I took a deep breath and then knocked hard on the door, the sound reverberating in the cave of rock around me.
I stood for a few minutes, shifting my weight from one foot to the other, my nerves threatening to overwhelm me as the moments grew longer. I’d seen Connor’s car. But he could have gone for a hike. Wherever he was, it didn’t seem that he was here. Or maybe he was just ignoring me. I didn’t really blame him.
Without thinking too much about it, I circled around to the other side of the house, following the small dirt path that ran along the meadow. Another tiny porch jutted out from that side of the house, overlooking the grass and greenery below. And sprawled in a chair on the porch, his feet propped up on the railing and glass of something raised in his hand, was Connor. He was staring out at the murky sky and hadn’t seen me yet. The door behind him was closed, so I was certain he hadn’t heard me knocking.
I turned, changing my mind about disturbing him and giving myself an out. He looked so peaceful, I told myself. I’d come back tomorrow. But just as I ducked back into the shadowed overhang, he called out.
“Maddie.”
I stiffened and turned back, walking back out into the open.
He’d stood and was gazing down at me. His face was impossible to make out in the dim light. I had no way of reading his expression, and his voice held little to guide me as to his feelings.
“Hi. I’m sorry to bother you.”
His head tilted to one side and then he took a sip of his drink, but he remained silent. I sensed that he was deciding what to do. “You want to come up?” He sounded tired, but not angry.
I shrugged, surprised at the invitation. “Okay, sure. Yes.” I walked around to the front of the house again, my heart in my throat.
I’d been planning to go see Maddie this evening, and felt a little wash of shame that she’d beaten me to it. Still, seeing her standing there beneath my deck looking uncertain and lovely made my breath come faster and my heart stutter. I waved her up the stairs into the living room, relief washing through me that maybe we could figure things out between us.
“Drink?” I asked.
She stuffed her hands into her pockets. “No, I don’t want to keep you long.”
I waved toward the stools that faced the breakfast bar and she sat, her fingers finding their way to one another and fidgeting nervously. I sat next to her, our knees nearly touching, and waited. Maddie wouldn’t meet my eye.
“I wasn’t sure you’d even speak to me,” she ventured, still watching her fingers dance. “I hoped you might give me a few minutes to explain what you saw…what you thought…with Jack.” Her voice wavered and I realized how nervous she was.
I wanted to touch her, to comfort her, but I needed to hear her words, so I waited. “Okay,” I said.
“Jack sold the photo I took of you.” She looked up at me and I nodded, urging her to go on. “I told you the truth before. I told him I didn’t want to sell it, and I didn’t give it to him. I honestly had nothing to do with selling it. But I’d be lying if I didn’t admit that I’d considered it. Things have been…”
“I know they’ve been hard.”
“Right. Well, yes, but I knew I couldn’t do that to you. I didn’t consider it for long. And Jack and I were not working together. When he showed up at the diner with that money…it was nothing I was expecting, Connor. And I didn’t take it.”
“Okay,” I said. I didn’t need any more convincing. It was obvious she was telling the truth, and the emotion with which she stared at me now, her eyes liquid and pleading, nearly broke my heart.
“I’m so sorry.”
“If you didn’t sell it, why are you sorry?” I asked.
She dropped my gaze again, leaned forward onto her arms. “I’m sorry for all the trouble it’s caused you—for the contribution to the mess that was already going on. I wish I had been here for you, helping to defend you.”
“That’s not your responsibility,” I said. “I believe you about the photo. I’ve had time to think about what I saw and heard between you. I know you well enough to know you weren’t lying. I was just angry and needed somewhere to aim that. I’m sorry.”
Comments (0)