Chapter 19 #2
Landry swallowed, the familiar words of his letter echoing in her mind. She had read it so many times, dissecting each sentence, each pause, each carefully chosen phrase. “Nothing other than the time isn’t right.”
Mila’s frown deepened, frustration sparking in her dark eyes. “What does that even mean?”
“I don’t know.” Landry exhaled a heavy sigh, feeling the weight of it settle deep in her chest. “The positive is that he hopes we can continue to, as he said, ‘walk this path together.’”
Mila rolled her eyes. “That sounds like something out of a Nicholas Sparks novel.”
Landry gave a small laugh, but it was hollow, like something fragile about to crack.
“It’s okay,” she said, though she wasn’t entirely sure who she was trying to convince—Mila or herself. “He’s helped me look at my life in a different way. Even if we never meet, his letters have changed my life.”
Mila studied her for a long moment, then tilted her head. “Do you still think he could be Peter?”
Landry hesitated, her fingers tightening around Mila’s. She had asked herself that question repeatedly, a thought that tugged at her when she least expected it.
“I don’t think so,” she admitted. “I kind of feel if he was Peter, he’d be okay with meeting me now.”
Mila pursed her lips, considering, then she shrugged. “At least you still have Peter.”
That brought a smile to Landry’s lips. She shook her head. “You make him sound like some sort of consolation prize.”
The funny thing was, Peter was anything but a consolation prize. And that thought sent a different kind of shiver through her, one she wasn’t quite ready to name.
By the time Landry and Mila returned from break, the coffee shop had settled into a slow, steady hum. A few lingering customers occupied tables, sipping their drinks and chatting in low tones, but the earlier rush had completely died down.
Landry felt the moment coming when Vern would toss his keys onto the counter with his usual, You two can handle it.
I’m heading out. If she’d known today would be this slow, she wouldn’t have had to visit last night.
She could have checked the letter box like any other day—no sneaking, no anxiety, no racing heart.
For the best, she told herself.
Reading the letter here, in front of coworkers and customers, would have been impossible.
She’d needed the solitude, the privacy of her apartment, to let those words sink in, to sit with the disappointment and the quiet ache of uncertainty.
It was just another reminder that things happened in their own time, whether she liked it or not.
“Landry.”
The sound of her name pulled her from her thoughts, and she turned to find Joe Wexman standing on the other side of the counter.
“If you get a chance, could you pop over to my table? I have something to ask you,” he said.
She blinked, curiosity flickering to life. “I can take a quick break in ten. Will you still be around?”
“I should be.” He flashed a quick smile before heading back to his seat.
Mila nudged her with an elbow. “What do you think that’s about?”
“No idea,” Landry admitted, but she couldn’t deny the small thrill of anticipation curling in her stomach. “But I can’t wait to find out.”
Ten minutes later, with the trickle of customers barely requiring her attention, she made her way to Joe’s table.
He was on his phone, but when he spotted her, he held up a finger, mouthing, “Just a minute.” Even as he continued his conversation, he stood and pulled out the chair across from him, motioning for her to sit.
She did, her curiosity mounting.
“Sorry about that,” Joe said as he slid his phone into his pocket. “How are you?”
“I’d say curious sums it up,” she admitted with a small smile.
He laughed. “Peter mentioned that you’re a big fan of Daniel Grace’s novels.”
Landry straightened, suddenly very interested. “I’ve read everything he’s written.”
Joe nodded, leaning forward slightly. “I thought about bringing him in here to meet you—he loves meeting other writers—but I know you’re usually busy.”
Landry’s heart kicked up a notch. Wait…what?
“Sophie and I are having some people over on Saturday,” he continued. “Nothing fancy, just drinks and appetizers on the deck to celebrate the nice weather. Daniel and his wife, Jenna, will be there. We’d love for you to come. It’d be a great chance for you to meet him.”
Landry’s mind spun as she processed his words. Daniel Grace. In the same room with her. Having an actual conversation. She swallowed, not wanting to sound like a star-struck fangirl, but, God help her, that’s exactly how she felt.
“That’s incredibly kind of you,” she said slowly, half wondering if she was dreaming. “Are you sure? I don’t want to intrude.”
Joe chuckled, waving away her concern. “You can’t intrude if you’re invited. Sophie and I love bringing people together, and Daniel is great about supporting young writers. It’ll be fun.”
Before she could argue, he pulled a business card from his wallet and scribbled an address on the back, sliding it across the table. “Come by anytime after seven. Bring a friend, if you’d like.”
She hesitated, staring down at the card.
The address was on Spruce Street, a block lined with grand, stately homes.
Chad had always called it Snob Street, rolling his eyes every time they passed by.
If they were still together, she doubted he’d go.
He’d complain about the crowd, about how she was wasting her time on a pipe dream.
But they weren’t together.
And now, she had the chance to meet one of her favorite authors without anyone dragging her down, without anyone making her feel like she was foolish for dreaming.
She lifted her gaze, a slow smile spreading across her lips. “Thanks so much, Joe. I’ll be there.”