Chapter 15
CHELSEA
In the hallway, I paused, doing my best to swallow down the lump in my throat and brighten my expression before I went out there to tell Jude it was time to get the hell out of here. Only in more socially acceptable terms.
But right as I was heading for the door to the reception area, the bell chimed and Mr. Reilly appeared.
“Oh!” I exclaimed. For a moment, my mouth went dry as once again I was struck by how much he looked like a gray-haired, more weathered Seamus.
But Mr. Reilly smiled kindly at me. “Chelsea. Nice to see you again.”
They were different, I could see now. Little things. Seamus had those brooding dark eyes, whereas Mr. Reilly’s were paler. Seamus had a little cleft in his jaw where Mr. Reilly didn’t.
I’d just been making out with Seamus in his office.
I cleared my throat. “Yes, hi,” I stammered, then felt my cheeks go pink.
He frowned. “Everything okay?”
Everything was very much not okay—Seamus had just confirmed he didn’t want to continue our burgeoning friendship.
In fairness, it wasn’t the friendship part that was the problem.
It was the painfully intense attraction between us.
Even though I had to agree the best course of action was to keep away from each other, hell if it didn’t hurt.
But I didn’t say that. Instead I said, “Yes… I… Seamus just had something for me. In his office.”
I held up the package. Could I be more obvious? What kind of person needs to show proof they weren’t up to something they shouldn’t have been? A guilty person, that’s who.
Mr. Reilly didn’t say anything for a moment, just nodded, and I felt like he had to know exactly what had just happened, that it was written all over my face.
I needed to get out of here fast, before Seamus came out too.
I glanced at the door behind him. But it would be deeply weird to squeeze past him and run out without saying anything else.
Then I remembered where Mr. Reilly had been.
“Joyce tells me you have an events crisis,” I said, smiling. Then I cut the smile—I sounded a bit more upbeat about this than I should have.
Mr. Reilly grimaced, looking instantly weary. “I was hoping the lodge would be repaired in time but apparently not, and there’s no place that can accommodate a hundred and fifty people on such short notice.”
I glanced over my shoulder, wishing I’d brought this up somewhere Seamus wasn’t.
“Joyce told me what you do for a living, but please don’t worry about it, I know you’re off work right now…” His eyes went to my bandage, then quickly away.
It was fine, only natural, but still my stomach turned slightly. Would I always be a topic of averted glances?
“It’s fine,” I said. “Really.” I did want to help, but not here.
I looked once more to the door to the foyer and Mr. Reilly got the hint, stepping aside for me.
“Something I thought of,” I said as I pushed the door open, sending the chimes dinging. “Was if maybe you have a construction site you could use? One that has a roof but isn’t necessarily finished?”
Mr. Reilly frowned.
“I know it’s not exactly outdoor weather,” I continued, “but I could hook you up with heat lamps and any other equipment or furniture you might need.” My event planner mind was already ticking ahead.
“Being at one of your sites might be really nice from a thematic point of view. Celebrating 30 years in the industry and all that.”
Mr. Reilly had his lips clamped together but hadn’t said anything, and I couldn’t tell if he thought it was an idea worth considering or if I’d totally lost it.
I didn’t know the first thing about construction sites—maybe it was totally illegal to host parties on them. But I knew I could make it amazing.
“Anyway, you have my number,” I said.
Behind him, down the hall, I saw Seamus’s door opening, and I panicked, letting go of the foyer door, cutting the conversation short.
Shit. So mature.
“Sorry,” I said to Jude.
“Fine by me,” he said. “Joyce and I were just getting to the good stuff. Though Cass’ll have my head if I’m not back for the staff meeting at two.”
“Good, yes, let’s go,” I said, hustling for the front door and dragging Jude along with me.
“I’ll remind Jamie to call!” Joyce said, waving us off.
I held my breath until we were back out in the crisp autumn air.
“What the hell was that?” Jude asked.
“Nothing. I’m just hungry,” I said.
He eyed me strangely. Jude knew something was up, but I was already walking at a clip toward Betsey’s.
Thankfully, Jude was too excited about the conversation he’d just had with Seamus’s dad to linger on my hasty getaway.
I let him chatter all the way to the restaurant, right up until we were placing our order.
Normally if I was in emotional turmoil, I might find Jude’s upbeat attitude annoying, but now I was grateful to have the space filled and my mind taken off what had just happened with Seamus.
Jude told me that Mr. Reilly—who he was calling Jamie as if they were old friends—had let drop that his grandfather was a codebreaker in World War Two.
It wasn’t even close to what I’d been expecting him to say. My expression must have shown how flummoxed I was because he’d clarified, saying Mr. Reilly—Jamie—still had some of his grandfather’s books on the subject.
Books he’d written.
The cipher. Eleanor. Room 114. The thing Jude wanted to talk to me about over lunch. I’d been so wrapped up in everything with Seamus, I’d completely forgotten.
It was only then I remembered Seamus had been the one to tell my brothers that the gobbledygook in the book was likely a cipher.
“So codebreaking runs in the family?” I asked. I hoped I sounded excited enough that Jude wouldn’t notice—though the topic interested me, my mind wasn’t present. It was like I’d left it back there in Seamus’s office, entirely entangled with my heart.
I didn’t know what was wrong with me. I’d set such clear boundaries for myself—no getting involved with anyone. And my motivation to figure out my life was strong—I still wanted that so badly. But Seamus was a wrinkle I hadn’t expected. More than a wrinkle—he was a whole… pleat.
I was so lost even my analogies were getting weird.
All I could think about was Seamus’s arms, lifting me off my feet.
His tongue, probing my mouth.
The intensity of his eyes on mine when I pulled away.
Something raw and rife with heat ran through me.
But I had to stop thinking about what had just happened. I had to, or I might go running back to that office.
Luckily Jude was so excited about the potential to crack the code in the cipher, he kept going all the way to dessert, when I finally put my hands up.
“Okay, Jude, this is all awesome, but I also wanted to know how Jack is doing. After… you know.” I gently touched the bandage on my face, and Jude nodded.
“Hey, I’m really sorry again about him freaking out like that,” Jude said.
“No, I’m not looking for apologies. I really just want to make sure he’s okay.”
Jude smiled. “He’s good. We had a long talk about it and I explained that you have a big ouchie. I… may or may not have shown him the photos.”
I gasped. “Wait, that’s what you wanted the photos for?”
“Not just that! The human body is awesome. But I started showing him photos of wounds, working our way up from small scratches to…” he glanced at me.
“Bigger ones. I took it slow so I wouldn’t scare him, telling him to say stop when he’d had enough.
But it worked—we talked about injuries and healing.
He’s seen my scars. He even brought photos of my knee—healed, of course—to show and tell. ”
I let out a relieved breath. It was strange parenting, but it wasn’t bad.
It might even be smart. I felt my senses come back to a semblance of equilibrium.
I would have loved to see my nephew again, but after our last encounter, I wasn’t sure the feeling would be mutual.
But now, if he wasn’t scared of me, it might be possible.
I felt a lump form in my throat at Jude’s thoughtfulness. He’d been actively working to help his son accept me as I was now. My eyes grew wet with tears.
Jude’s own grin faded, his face growing serious. “Shit, I didn’t mean to make you cry.”
“No, it’s a good thing,” I said. “It’s really sweet what you’re doing with Jack.
” It was. But tears have a way of connecting to other things, and I had to swallow to keep myself presentable in the busy restaurant.
I could already count a handful of people who’d been glancing our way throughout our meal.
Jude leaned forward, reaching for my hand. “Hey, how’s it going, Chelsea? Really? I know you don’t like to talk about yourself, but we’re all worried.”
My stomach bunched up. “We?”
“Yeah, all of us. You haven’t exactly responded to our invitations to hang out. You keep canceling plans you do have with us. After the hospital, you just kind of… fell off the map.”
I swallowed. He was right. I’d been neglecting the rest of my family. In only a few visits, I’d spent more time with Seamus than any of my siblings, or my dad, who I had the ability to see now that he was back in town.
“I… I’m just trying to figure things out,” I confessed. “The crash was a… I know it sounds cliché, but it was a wake-up call. A metaphor for the train wreck of my life.”
The words came out slightly sharp, but Jude only lifted his eyebrows.
“So now you’re trying to figure out who you are on the other side, right?”
I blinked, surprised Jude had understood completely. But of course he had. With that injury, Jude had lost his whole shiny pro-tennis life, where he traveled all over the world winning matches and flitting around dating whoever he wanted.
“I’m sorry I didn’t check in on you,” I said suddenly. “When you got hurt.”
“You did,” he said. “You all did.”
Jude had been on the other side of the world when the doctors said his career on the court was over. We’d tried to get him to come home. More accurately, Mom had, but he’d said he was going to stay away for a while.