Chapter 31
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
BLAIR
Finn is curled on the couch beside me, still in his pyjamas, strawberry jam smudged at the corner of his mouth.
Our breakfast plates are scattered across the coffee table, and cartoons flash on the screen.
Lachlan would freak out if he knew we’d snuck food out of the kitchen, but what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.
And honestly? With only three days of summer vacation left, we deserve a little indulgence.
“Can we do a treasure hunt today?” Finn asks, bouncing a little against my side. “You hide stuff and I’ll find it.”
On-screen a cartoon pirate is waving a map and shouting about buried gold. Kids really are impressionable.
“Absolutely,” I say, wrapping an arm around him for a squeeze. “But let me caffeinate first.” I lift my mug and take another sip.
After a whirlwind of a weekend, he slept in later than usual this morning.
When Lachlan kissed me goodbye before leaving for work, he told me to take advantage of it, so I rolled over and dozed for another hour—until Gus decided I needed company.
Seventy pounds of golden retriever leapt onto the bed then sprawled beside me.
Pretty sure Lachlan wouldn’t have approved of that either.
No doubt I shouldn’t be encouraging Gus, but he was so warm and cuddly I couldn’t bring myself to push him out.
Now Gus sits by the coffee table, tail sweeping lazily against the rug, eyes fixed on me with that unmistakable “When are we going for our walk?” look.
Not yet, Gus. Not yet.
I reach for my phone and check it while Finn giggles at something on the screen. A notification catches my attention. An email from Nora Cartwright.
My heart does a little skip. It’s been a few days since Clara asked if she could pass on my email to Nora. I’d begun to wonder if maybe she wouldn’t get in touch after all.
Dear Blair,
I hope this message finds you well. We haven’t met in person, but I’ve followed your work with interest over the past few years.
I know the AI app project at Everhart & Greene was a difficult situation, and it was clear to me you were unfairly made the scapegoat. Please don’t let that episode overshadow what was, until then, an impressive body of editorial work.
One of my senior editors is leaving Cedar House, and as we begin the search for a replacement, your name was the first that came to mind. I’d love to speak with you about the role and think you’d be a terrific fit for our team.
If you’re open to a conversation, please let me know your availability. We’re hoping to move quickly with this hire.
Warmly,
Nora Cartwright
Editorial Director, Cedar House
I read it again. Then a third time. I have to blink a few times, make sure I’m not hallucinating.
A job offer. And not just any job offer, a senior position. A step up from what I had at Everhart & Greene. At Cedar House, a publisher I’ve always admired, with authors I’ve secretly fangirled over for years.
She knows about the AI scandal, but she doesn’t care. This is my career being handed back to me. My professional identity. My reputation. Everything I thought I’d lost forever.
I can hardly believe it. I’m grinning at my phone like an idiot.
Then Finn laughs at something on his cartoon, and I glance up at him. He’s still got that smear of jam on his mouth, his hair sticking up in every direction, pyjamas half twisted around him. Gus, meanwhile, is still by the coffee table, tail swishing, wearing that “When’s our walk?” expression.
A tight, fizzy knot forms just below my ribs.
What about them?
The front door clicks, followed by Lachlan’s heavy tread across the hallway.
Normally this is Gus’s cue to launch himself at his master like a furry missile, and Finn’s to come charging behind, both of them competing for who can greet him first. But today?
Not so much. Gus is flopped on the living room rug, Finn is half draped across me on the couch, and I’m letting the TV do the heavy lifting.
Lachlan pokes his head around the doorframe and grins at the sight of us. “Lazy day?”
“Hey, we weren’t total sloths!” I protest. “We walked along the beach. Stopped by Flora’s to see how she’s doing. Even made it to the playground.” What I don’t add is that we somehow ended up right back here afterward, like this couch has its own gravitational pull.
He steps in, lips quirking. “Aye, sounds exhausting.” He plants a kiss on my cheek, ruffles Finn’s hair, and gives Gus a fond scratch. “You do all look knackered, though. Reckon you’ve earned a quiet day.”
“Guess what?” Finn pipes up, grinning mischievously. “Blair and I had breakfast here today! On the sofa!”
Lachlan clutches his chest in mock outrage. “ What? You mean to say you’ve been committing breakfast crimes under my roof?”
I give Finn a playful nudge with my elbow. “Thanks a lot, traitor. Last time I trust you with a secret.”
Finn giggles, completely unrepentant, and stretches out even further across the couch until I’m practically pinned. Lachlan settles into the armchair across from us, watching us with a soft smile. I try to smile back, but it feels forced, tight at the edges.
All day, I’ve been composing messages to him.
Hey, got an interesting email today. Can we talk?
Delete. So, hypothetically, what would you say if I told you I might have a job offer back in New York?
Delete. Remember how we said we’d figure out our future after you faced your past?
Well, MY past just came knocking. Delete, delete, delete.
I decided it’d be better to tell him face to face. Except now that we actually are face to face, I’m no closer to blurting it out. Not that I could drop this bomb in front of Finn anyway. Later. Once he’s asleep.
“. . . what do you think?”
I blink, realising Lachlan’s been talking and I’ve been lost in thoughts. “Sorry, what was that?”
Finn groans. “She’s been doing that all day! Like she’s not really here.” He waves a hand in front of my face. “Earth to Blair!”
My cheeks go hot. “I’m sorry, I’ve got a bit of a headache. Not really feeling myself.”
“Da was saying he got off the ferry at Corraig today,” Finn supplies helpfully, and my attention snaps back to Lachlan.
“What? Oh, that’s amazing!” The smile that spreads across my face is genuine this time. “I’m so proud of you.”
But instead of sharing my enthusiasm, Lachlan pushes up from the armchair and crouches in front of me, frowning. “Forget about that. Are you coming down with something? You got a temperature?” He presses the back of his hand to my forehead.
“I’m fine! It was just... a busy weekend, that’s all. Maybe I took too much sun—something I never thought I’d say in Scotland.” I tack on a laugh, but it comes out thin even to my ears. Plus an email came in today that’s rocked my world. “But really, you got off the ferry? That’s huge!”
His frown deepens. “Want me to get you something? Paracetamol?”
Tylenol , I translate automatically. “No. Honestly, I’m okay.”
“Well, if you’re sure.” He squeezes my hand, and the warmth of his touch sends a pang through my chest.
Maybe when we talk later, he’ll make this easy for me.
Maybe he’ll say he loves me and that my place is here with him and Finn.
Take the decision out of my hands. Because honestly?
I’m not sure I’m capable of choosing between the life I thought I always wanted in New York and whatever this is we’re building here.
“The festival was so much fun, wasn’t it?” Finn says, all innocent. Then, unknowingly twisting the knife: “Do you think we’ll all go again next year?”
Lachlan, straightening, chuckles and glances down at me. “Well, we’ll just see, won’t we?”
Actually, I’d like to know the answer to that myself.
Will I still be here next year? Still tangled up in this messy, wonderful little life with Lachlan and Finn and Gus?
With Ellie and Flora and the chaos of the Pit on Saturday afternoons?
Or will I be back in New York, riding the Staten Island Ferry to work every day like none of this ever happened?
And what if I turn down the job offer and things don’t work out here?
If Lachlan decides I was just the woman who helped him out of a dark place, not the one he wants forever?
What if my self-publishing dreams fizzle out before they even start?
Then what? Then I’ll have thrown away my one shot at getting back the career I spent my whole adult life building.
No wonder I feel like I’m unravelling.
“You three stay here,” Lachlan says, heading for the door. “I’ll change then sort dinner.”
“Don’t be silly!” I get to my feet. “You’ve been out at work all day. I’ll?—”
He steps back and gently pushes me down to the couch, his hands warm on my shoulders. “Stay. I’ve got this.”
He smiles at me, steady and sure, and I force myself to smile back. But my fingers worry at one of my rings like it’s the only thing holding me together.