So Into You

Chapter 23

Daniel put his phone in his pocket, nearly falling to his knees with relief after Brittany told him she was okay. She hung

up right after telling him she was at Maude’s, barring him from asking any other questions.

“Who was that?” Amy demanded.

He, Hunter, and Amy were standing in the foyer. That was as far as she would let either of them in the house, and it had taken

some cajoling from Daniel to get her to agree to that. “Brittany,” he said, and saw Hunter’s head jerk up. The guy had been

texting her since they walked inside.

“Is she okay?” Hunter said quickly.

And in Daniel’s opinion, with great concern. He believed the young man when he said he cared about her. “Yes—”

“She called you and not me?” Amy threw up her hands. “I don’t understand. What have you done to her?”

“Amy, just listen—”

She marched farther into the house.

Hunter frowned, clearly confused. As he should be. Amy wasn’t making sense.

“I’ll be back.” Daniel fortified himself and went after her. He found her in the living room, her hands covering her face as she sobbed. His heart tore in two. Her pain was his fault—again. But instead of running away from the shame of constantly hurting her, the way he’d done during their entire marriage, he stood his ground. “Amy.”

She lifted her face, her expression shooting daggers at him. She hadn’t taken her makeup off from the party. Her hair was

a mess, mascara streamed down her face, she was over twenty years older than the last time he’d seen her... and she was

still the most beautiful woman he’d ever encountered.

“I’m sorry you had to find out this way.” He wanted to go to her, but it would be a bad move. So he stayed put. “Brittany

wanted to tell you herself at the right time.”

“There would never be a right time.” Amy ran her forearm under her nose, her eyes never leaving his. “How did you weasel your

way back into her life?”

“I sent her an email.”

“Oh, please. It couldn’t have been that simple. You abandoned her, Daniel. Not just when we divorced, but soon after she was

born. You chose booze over her. Over both of us.”

“I know.” His throat caught. “I think about my mistakes every single day.”

“And I don’t care.” She straightened, staring at him in her uniquely defiant way. “If you think I’m going to let you hurt

her again—”

“I won’t. I’m sober, Amy. I have been for seven years.”

“Sure. Like I’m going to believe that.”

“That young man in there?” He gestured toward the foyer with his thumb. “That’s Hunter Pickett. His father is Arthur Pickett,

one of the premiere lawyers in the country.”

“I know who he is.”

Daniel waited for her to elaborate, but she didn’t. “Arthur’s my boss. I’m his chauffeur.”

Amy let out a bitter chuckle. “He has horrible instincts then.”

“No, he knows me very well. He was my lawyer when I went to prison.”

She stilled. “Prison?”

“Seven years ago in Fort Worth. Drunk driving, third offense, BAC over .15.” He rattled off the stats as if he were stating

the weather forecast. But inside he was a swirl of shame, regret, and remorse, as he had been since the day he’d been arrested.

“Arthur took my case pro bono. Not because he knew me. It was the luck of the draw... and I was very lucky. In more ways

than one.”

“You’re a criminal on top of everything else.” But Amy’s tone didn’t hold quite the same amount of venom.

“Arthur got the sentence down to two years, and it was enough for me to hit rock bottom and dry out. I went to AA meetings

in prison. Met with the chaplain twice a week, more if he was available. Did my time with perfect behavior, and when I got

out, I worked on rebuilding my life. That’s when Arthur entered it again. He met with me and offered me a job.” He stared

at the floor. “I still don’t know why. All he said was that people deserve second chances.”

“I gave you so many more than that.” She turned to him, fresh tears in her eyes. “Over and over, I forgave you, I believed

your promises, I pretended that everything was fine. Until I couldn’t do it anymore.”

“I know. And you gave me more than I deserved.” His throat burned. “I’m sorry for what I did to you and Brittany. I want to

make up for it. That’s why I came back.”

“I don’t want your apologies, Daniel.” She composed herself. “I don’t want you in my life or in Britt’s. You ran out of chances

a long time ago.”

***

Hunter paced in the foyer, trying not to hear the conversation in the other room, but it was impossible. Thin walls, raised

voices, whatever the reason, he heard every word, and he stopped in his tracks when he heard Daniel admit he’d gone to prison

for a DUI, and that had been his rock bottom. His story was so similar to Hunter’s it would have been eerie—except Hunter

had heard the same stories from other people too. Alcoholics and addicts whose run-ins with the law had laid them low.

“Does Britt know?” Amy said, her voice distant but audible. “About prison? About the DUIs?”

“Yes,” Daniel replied.

“And she forgave you?”

Pause. “Yes.”

Hunter’s eyes widened. If Britt was able to forgive her father, could she forgive him too?

He pulled out his phone and went outside. The air was muggy, and the cicadas were annoyingly loud, but he had to reach Britt.

No texting this time. He pulled up her number and tapped it. He would call her until she answered—

“Hello.”

He closed his eyes at the sound of her voice. “It’s Hunter.”

“I know.”

Of course she did. Her tone was flat but at least she was talking to him. “Your dad said you’re at Maude and X’s.”

“You’re with him?”

“We were looking for you...” He didn’t want to waste his time explaining the details. “Can we talk? In person?”

No answer.

After a few moments he said, “Please, Britt.”

Several more seconds passed. “Yes.”

“I can come to you.” Then he realized he didn’t have a car or his bike. He’d have to call an Uber. “What’s the address?”

She hesitated before she gave it to him.

“All right, I’ll be there as soon as I can—”

But he realized the line was already silent.

He stared at the phone, then quickly he brought up the Uber app.

The front door opened. Daniel stepped out, his expression haggard.

“Amy’s calmed down a little,” Daniel said, sounding weary. “At least she knows where Brittany is. Can I drop you off somewhere?”

Hunter held up his phone. “I was just calling an Uber.”

Daniel gave him a faint smile. “I’m a chauffeur, remember? Driving your family around is what I do.”

Hunter nodded and put away his phone. “Can you take me to Maude’s? Britt’s willing to talk.”

His face brightened a little. “Sure.”

They got into the car and were on their way, not speaking until Daniel pulled in front of a townhouse with a neatly kept lawn.

He put the car in park but kept the engine running. “Full disclosure, since I’m tired of keeping secrets... I know you’ve

been in trouble with the law.”

Hunter swallowed. “Yes, sir. I have.”

“And I have a feeling you heard part or all of my conversation with Amy, so you know I have too.”

“Yes, sir.”

His expression was stern under the streetlamp. “What are your intentions toward Brittany?”

Without hesitation, he said, “I love her. She’s unlike any woman I’ve ever met. She’s talented, warm, generous, beautiful... She makes me want to be so much better than I ever hoped to be.”

“Then be that for her, Hunter.” His tone was forceful. “Don’t throw away a good thing, like I did.”

Hunter nodded, then opened the door and got out. Daniel waited until Maude, wearing a bland housecoat, opened the door. Then

he left.

“Come in,” she said, her expression guarded, something he’d never seen from her before. “She’s in the kitchen.”

“Thanks.” He followed her to the back of the house, a little surprised by the calm décor and muted grays and whites. Very

different from their colorful, eclectic shop. When they reached the kitchen, Maude disappeared.

He stopped in the doorway and looked at Britt. She was sitting with her head down, shoulders slumped, pushing her thumb back

and forth on the edge of the table, several locks of gorgeous curls against her cheeks. Her gloves were wadded up next to

a teacup, and the scent of lemon and lavender filled the room.

Taking in a deep breath, he approached her.

***

Britt didn’t look up as she heard Hunter’s footsteps against the linoleum in Maude and X’s kitchen. When he sat down next

to her, she could smell his cologne, even above the essential oils X insisted on diffusing. His scent wasn’t overbearing,

but it was different. Expensive smelling. Just another reminder that she never really knew him at all.

“Britt.” His normally low voice had dropped even lower, his tone tentative.

She bit her bottom lip, almost to the point of drawing blood. She kept her gaze glued to the table, unwilling to risk looking at him. She didn’t want to get lost in his magnetic eyes or lose her senses at his charming smile. He knew how to get to her, and she had to keep her walls up.

“I guess I should start at the beginning.” He paused, as if waiting for a response. When she didn’t move or speak, he continued.

“My parents are Arthur and Lila Pickett. I have two brothers, Payne and Kirk, both hugely successful. They’re married, but

no nieces and nephews yet. My parents always had high expectations for us. Straight As, college prep, Ivy League educations.

Expectations I consistently failed to meet.”

She couldn’t stop herself from looking at him, and she saw the torment in his eyes. He’s faking... He’s acting... “Is that supposed to make me feel sorry for you?”

He blinked. “No. I’m just telling you about my family. We never talked about them, remember?”

She shifted her gaze back on the table.

“Payne and Kirk were stellar students. The only thing I was good at was sports, and in a family like mine, that’s not a worthy

accomplishment. But it’s not my parents’ fault for how I dealt with being different. I was always able to charm my way out

of anything, so I used that to my advantage. And when I was old enough to use my looks as leverage, I added that to the mix.

By junior high I was running with the wrong crowd. I had my first drink at twelve, my first hit of weed at fourteen. By high

school I was an alcoholic and a drug user.”

Her head popped up. “What?”

“I got kicked out of a lot of schools.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I was even in your mom’s class for a while when I

was a freshman.”

“You knew my mom?”

“Barely. I made the connection about a month ago—”

“And never told me.” She grabbed one of the gloves and started twisting it. When he started to take it from her, she snatched

it away.

He withdrew. “Sorry,” he mumbled, averting his eyes. “I didn’t tell you because I wanted to wait for the right time.”

She stilled. How many times had she said that to her dad about Mom?

“There’s more. So much more. I got kicked out of so many high schools I had to get my GED. I broke the law numerous times—drunk

driving, buying drugs, even petty theft once. Every time, my dad covered for me. Mostly out of self-preservation. Couldn’t

have his youngest son humiliating the family at every turn. And then there were the women—”

“Enough!” Hearing about his alcohol, drug use, and law breaking was one thing. But she couldn’t bear to hear about how many

women he’d been with.

“Britt, I’m being honest here. I’m ashamed of my past. All of it. By the time I was twenty-six, I was so lost. I hated what

I’d become, but I couldn’t stop it. Then I got arrested for petty theft at a liquor store. And for the first time in my life,

my dad didn’t show up to bail me out. I had to get a court-appointed attorney, and because my record was expunged, I ended

up with a light sentence. But I still went to jail.

“When I got out, I was banned from my parents’ house. I had to get a job, an apartment, and I couldn’t get either of those

until I got clean and sober. I had to grow up.”

He continued to tell her how he’d pulled himself out of the mire—thanks to people at the church he started attending. “One guy gave me a job at a fast-food place he owned. I met with a group there, and we worked through a sobriety program. I was living at a weekly rate motel until I got the warehouse job. The nephew of a friend of my mother’s was also working there. Sawyer. He’s my roommate.”

“You really live at that apartment complex?”

“Yes, Britt. Everything else I’ve told you about myself is true. Including my feelings for you.”

She couldn’t speak, could barely think. While he’d been telling her his story, he’d been absently running his fingers through

his thick hair, and it now looked wild and untamed. He was wearing the tuxedo, except for the tie and jacket, his biceps tight

against his crisp white shirt. In his honest anguish, he still somehow managed to be heart-stoppingly handsome.

“I love you, Britt,” he said. “I know it’s soon, but it’s the truth. I don’t want to hide anything from you anymore—”

“Stop.” She pushed away from the table and went to the other side of the room. She had to, or else she’d fall under his spell

again. “You don’t mean it.”

“I do.” He jumped up and went to her. “I promise. I’m telling the truth.”

And that’s what scared her. Because she could understand his past—somewhat. Reconciling with her father, hearing his story,

and seeing him turn his life around had made her realize that people could change for the better. She believed Hunter when

he said he was clean and sober.

But she’d never been able to understand why he wanted her. She still couldn’t, especially now that she knew what he came from. She would never measure up to the Picketts or live in the world that Hunter would return to. And he would, eventually. She knew deep inside he would be successful at whatever he decided to do now that he had reset his life. Eventually he would get tired of her fragility, her anxiousness, her lack of glamour. He’d be surrounded by beautiful, sophisticated women. His type of woman. Something she could never be.

“Britt, please—”

She turned her back on him. Swallowed her tears.

“That’s it?” His voice cracked. “I just bared my heart and soul to you.”

Her whole body started to shake, but she didn’t move. Didn’t speak. Didn’t back down.

“I guess I was a fool too.”

Britt heard him storm out of the room and she gripped the wall in front of her. When Maude dashed in, she turned around, barely

able to speak.

“What happened?” Maude asked, stricken. “That boy looked like death warmed over.”

Somehow, she managed not to cry. Or maybe she just didn’t have any tears left.

***

The next morning, Amy rolled out of bed, her eyes puffy and her head throbbing. After Daniel and Hunter left last night, she

finally realized why the kid looked so familiar. Hunter Pickett, Arthur Pickett’s son. She still wasn’t sure how he was involved

with Britt, but she was going to find out today. If Britt wasn’t home by noon, she was going to march over to Maude’s and

make her leave.

In the back of her mind, she knew she couldn’t, and shouldn’t, force Britt to do anything. But she was still so angry. Seeing Daniel last night, hearing what had happened to him and how he had changed—that made everything worse. Because as he talked and told her his story, she realized even through her haze of anger that he looked good. Healthier than she’d ever seen him. His green eyes weren’t bloodshot from alcohol and hangovers, his skin was lightly tanned, his body more filled out. Right before the divorce, Daniel had been skinnier than a rail. Living on a liquid diet would do that to a person.

She didn’t want to have sympathy for him. She wanted to hate him for what he’d done to her and Britt.

Soon after she entered the kitchen to make coffee and find the Tylenol, the phone in her hand rang. Hoping it was Britt, she

was disappointed to see Laura’s name pop up. Then she realized her friend had to be wanting a detailed report about the night

before. Amy ignored the call, set the phone on the table, and made coffee.

By the time the pot was full, Laura had called three more times. Uh-oh.

Hopefully something wasn’t wrong with her or Farah. She quickly answered on the first ring. “Are you okay?”

“That was my question,” Laura said, sounding concerned. “We were supposed to meet for breakfast an hour ago. Where are you?”

Amy stilled, the coffeepot in her hand. How had she forgotten her breakfast date with Laura? “I’m home,” she said, the pot

wobbly as she poured the brew into her cup. “I’m sorry, it completely slipped my mind.”

“You had that much of a good time last night?” Laura teased.

She set the pot down and pinched the bridge of her nose, willing herself not to cry.

“Amy?”

“I...”

“I’m on my way over.”

Amy shook her head. “You don’t have to—”

“Yes, I do. I can tell something is really wrong.”

She paused. “It is.”

“Be there in twenty.”

Somehow Laura managed to beat her estimate by five minutes. She didn’t bother coming into the house but opened the backyard

gate and walked over to Amy, who was sitting on one of the patio chairs staring at the thick green grass.

“How did you know I was here and not inside?” Amy asked.

“We’ve been friends for almost twenty years.” She sat down. “I know you pretty well by now. What happened?”

Amy explained everything, including kissing Max, which Laura found more surprising than the fact that Daniel had returned.

“You kissed him?” Laura leaned forward, her eyes bright with anticipation. “How was it?”

“I don’t know.”

She frowned. “Huh?”

“I wasn’t thinking about Max when I kissed him.”

Laura winced. “Who were you thinking about—” She gasped. “Daniel?”

“Just about sticking it to him, that’s all. Nothing romantic, if that’s what you’re implying.” She shuddered. “That would

never happen. And I know what you’re thinking. It was a low thing to do.”

“Very low,” Laura said honestly. “Why did you do that to him? It’s not like you to be petty.”

She fisted her hands. “Daniel makes me crazy. He always has. I thought I was rid of him, Laura. But like a bad boomerang,

he’s back in my life. Britt seems to have reconciled with him.”

“Have you talked to her about it yet?”

“She’s at Maude’s.” The hurt returned. “I can’t believe she didn’t tell me about him.”

“I can.”

Amy jerked her head toward Laura. “What?”

“Look how nutty you’re acting now. Do you think anything would have changed if she’d told you before? Except for you kissing Max, you would still be just as angry.”

“No, I wouldn’t.” But as she said the words, she knew Laura was right. And now she was realizing that Britt had made the right

decision by keeping the secret until she felt she could reveal it. “She would have had to tell me eventually.”

“True, but maybe she had a plan to make the news land a little more softly. She’s spent her entire life hearing how awful

her dad is.”

“Excuse me?” Amy balked. “I never said anything that wasn’t the truth.”

“I know, but even when you didn’t say anything, she knew. Everyone knows how bitter you are about Daniel.”

Amy scowled. “If this is a pep talk, it’s the worst one in history.”

“It’s real talk. Listen to me. You have to let Daniel go. All of him—the pain he caused, the dreams he destroyed. If you don’t,

it’s going to eat you alive. I think it has in some ways. You won’t even think about letting another man near you.”

“That’s because of Britt—”

“Oh no.” Laura held up her hand. “Don’t use her as an excuse. She’s a grown woman.”

“I know that.” She kicked at a pebble near her chair. “What I don’t get is why everyone feels the need to remind me.”

“Maybe because you need the reminder.” Laura sighed. “I’m sorry, Amy. I wish last night would have been better for you, and

I know Daniel being back and Britt not telling you is a shock. I’m not trying to make light of your feelings, but this could

be the chance you’ve been needing to put the past behind you for good.”

Amy let her comments settle.

“Think about it, okay?” Laura smiled. “Did you at least get to see the inside of the house?”

“Yeah,” she mumbled. “It’s incredible. I thought only people in movies had houses like that.” So that was the type of environment Hunter had grown up in. No wonder he’d been a spoiled brat. Well, maybe not a brat, but he sure had an air of entitlement to him. Now that she knew who he was, the memories of him being in her class became clearer—the charming smile, the lack of effort, the attempts at making her believe his lies about why he didn’t have his schoolwork or couldn’t study for a test. None of it had worked on her.

She heard a car door slam and shot up from her chair. “That might be Britt,” Amy said.

Laura was already standing. “Good luck,” she said. “I’ll talk to you later.”

As Laura left the backyard, Amy went inside. She and Britt both arrived in the kitchen at the same time. Her chest squeezed

as she saw the state of her daughter. She was wearing the same dress she had on last night, but it was wrinkled as if she’d

slept in it. Her hair was in a sloppy ponytail, and whatever makeup she’d had on last night was gone, save for a small smear

of black under her left lower lashes.

Amy rushed to her. “Are you okay?”

Britt slowly lifted her head, her eyes empty.