Chapter 22 #2
As I sink down at the kitchen table, I decide that the not-so-small hazard of bringing her out in public will simply need to be overcome, because I won’t take back the offer now.
I’m resolved to make each and every one of her ridiculous offers happen, even if I need to go out to buy beer and erect an ax-throwing target myself.
To my pleasant surprise, however, having a college town within an hour’s driving distance—one which happens to be the home of her “friend who happens to be a maid”—makes fulfilling Blair’s wishes less complicated than expected.
Port Briar, which is situated further south of Thornhurst on Stelland’s western coast, isn’t unfamiliar to me.
The city boasts both the Royal Naval Academy and its oldest university, Orwick.
The two entities are situated almost side by side, making for a bizarre collision of military life and academia.
I lived there for years while I was in the academy, renting an apartment around the corner from the posh townhouse where Ben and Leo lived while attending university
Looking back, it was one of the happiest periods of my life, and I find my heart lifting at the prospect of a day there.
It only takes a few minutes to find a bar—located at an address I recognize as part of Port Briar’s bustling downtown district—which has a full back room dedicated to ax throwing and arcade games, and make a reservation for two.
The pasta making is a bit more difficult to wrangle, but I find an Italian restaurant that occasionally hosts cooking classes, and send them an email, offering to pay a premium for a last-minute private pasta-making demonstration before they open for dinner.
By the time Blair comes back downstairs—dressed in a cozy knit dress which emphasizes her hourglass shape and makes my mouth go dry—I have a reasonably concrete plan.
“Alright,” I tell her, standing up. “Let’s go.”
She still doesn’t believe me. I can see it in her face, even after I’ve pulled around the estate’s Land Rover and have gotten back into the driver’s seat after a brief detour to my cottage to change out of my running things.
“You should know that if this is an extremely elaborate plan to murder me, I will be quite annoyed,” she informs me as we approach the gates, folding her hands neatly in her lap.
I roll down the window and lean out, allowing the newly installed biometric access to scan my facial features. When the tech is satisfied, the gates open, and I pull through, humming thoughtfully. “No plans at the moment, princess, but I’ll keep you updated as the day progresses.”
Blair purses her lips. “Is that a reminder to behave myself?”
No, all my homicidal inclinations are self-directed as of yesterday, but I don’t tell her that, keeping my eyes trained on the road.
The storm is already dying away, but there’s a mix of ice and slush covering everything, which makes for a treacherous drive. Apart from a call to Summer—who is more than happy to abandon a day of cleaning to join her—Blair is mainly quiet, her eyes on the landscape as we pass.
I can tell she’s disoriented by my abrupt change in attitude toward her, likely unable to accept it could have been prompted by something other than pity.
While I fully intend to do everything I can to show her that isn’t the case, since I took the job at Thornhurst, I find myself troubled by the lack of time left on my contract.
Is seven months enough to undo the damage I inflicted in the first one?
It should be, and I can’t understand why I’m suddenly so bothered by this end date.
The drive isn’t a long one, and when we pull up outside the coffee shop where we’re supposed to be meeting Summer, Blair looks confused when I don’t turn off the car.
“Put your hair up. You’ll be less recognizable,” I tell her calmly, handing over my own black, knitted winter hat.
“The reservation at the ax-throwing place is at six, and all paid for, but I was waiting in the Italian restaurant to confirm the cooking lesson. I’ll send you a voice memo when I hear back from them. ”
Her lips pull down at the corners. “You aren’t coming with me?”
I’d intended to, had thought that hovering discreetly in the background would be the safest course of action. “No. Are you saying you’d like me to?”
This question is met with a scoff. “Of course not. I just thought…” She trails off, glancing toward the glass-fronted shop, then back to me.
“I’ll pick you up in front of the bar, and I won’t be far. If you need me, call.” My voice is steady, calm, but inside, something is twisting painfully.
“You’re not worried I’ll cause trouble? End up in the paper?”
I shake my head. “Go have fun with your friend. I trust you.”
Despite this reassurance, Blair still looks as though she expects me to stop her as she pulls her pale red hair up into a bun and covers it with my hat.
I say nothing when she opens the door and gets out onto the sidewalk, and lean back in my seat, letting out a heavy lungful of air as I watch her cross to the door, and pause, looking off down the sidewalk.
The slim blonde I recognize as Summer bounds into view, and I watch as she throws her arms around Blair. The pair of them smiling widely as they separate and carry on into the shop, elbows looped together.
And, for the first time since we met, I’m positive I’ve done the right thing for her.