8. Chase
The call I faked to give Noah a chance to apologize—since he’d never do it around me—worked like a charm.
I keep the phone to my ear even after he’s gone. Using it as a prop as I scan a home I don’t recognize. How did two women do this in one night? When Noah told me he was on his way over to the cottage to talk to Pepper about the contract, I followed him out of pure apprehension.
Before Pepper, no one’s been here in weeks. If he’d come and seen the place like the train wreck it was, I’d never have heard the end of it.
The house almost looks like it did during happier times. Brimming with life instead of loss. The musty smell of decay now replaced with hints of my little brother’s favorite scent.
I pace slowly as Pepper busies herself wiping crumbs of coffee cake off the polished counter. She’s in blue striped pajama pants—ones I assume I bought her—and a plain white t-shirt with a sports bra underneath that leaves little to the imagination. My eyes are drawn to the darkened, pert nipples pushing through the fabric. The same ones that were pushing against me as I drove her to Denver on my bike—before I got her a jacket that served two purposes: keep her warm and myself from getting hard.
Her hair is tied on the top of her head and she looks—very much like the girl next door. My girl next door. Not Troy Mayfield’s.
Wait. No. Not mine—I didn’t mean it like that.
Pepper Woods will never be my anything.
For one—she’s not my type. That “too good for this small town” attitude that no one needs and two—the minute this thing blows over and Troy moves on—she’s on the next plane back to New York.
I don’t give her the satisfaction of letting her know I’m impressed as I take in the polished tile floors in the kitchen and dinette. Or the shine on the wood in the foyer and living room when we walked in. The place only seems brighter because she took down all the dark dusty drapes.
I slide my phone in my back pocket, my gaze sweeping across the room, catching sight of her as she picks off a bit of my left-over coffee cake between her fingers and places it into her mouth. Her lips move lusciously then freeze when her eyes catch mine.
Swallowing, she says, “Sounded like a one-sided conversation.”
“It was a long message.”
She nods, picking off another piece.
“Place looks good.”
“You sound surprised.”
“I would have thought you’d give it a few days before you turned all Mary Poppins on it.”
“All we did was clean. I can’t keep sleeping in dust. Even Belle from Beauty and the Beast had better accommodations.”
I cock a brow. “Does that make me the Beast?”
She laughs. “No. It makes you Gaston.”
“Nice! What makes me that guy?”
“You parade around this town like you own it—even though no one really knows where you live because you’re always hanging out in a bar. You make fun of my charming personality—”
I snort. “You’re forgetting one little fact that wouldn’t make you Belle.”
She crosses her arms and waits.
Pushing the contract across the counter, I lean in and whisper, “Belle reads.”
She presses her lips together to hide her amusement. “Weren’t you just leaving?”
“Yes. I’m heading back to Denver tonight for practice and we leave for Vancouver tomorrow for three days. Make yourself at home.” I dig my card out of my wallet and set it on the counter. “You should hold onto this for anything you—or the place—might need.”
She looks at the card and nods.
“How are you getting in touch with Charlie?”
“Oh.” She jumps and races to the living room, I follow behind. From the side table, she lifts a Darth Vader head contraption—and it takes me a minute before I remember what it is. “We found this yesterday. Did Elliot have a landline?”
“Uh…no. I did. That…was my phone.”
A slow smile creeps her lips. “Like when you were a kid?”
I walk up and take it from her. “No. Like when I was in college.”
She presses her lips together but can’t contain her excitement. “Does it work? How do you use it?”
I sigh, flipping the thing over to check for any corrosion. “I’d have to turn the service back on but should still work. These buttons here don’t do anything but play sound effects, but the receiver is back here.”
“That’s amazing.”
I smirk, handing it back to her. “I’ll have it back on today. I’ll give you a call when it’s working.”
“Is it loud? Is it going to scare the crap out of me?”
“No more than a frog in the couch.” I set it down and turn to leave.
“Hey, Chase. Thanks again for letting me stay here. I promise I won’t overstay my welcome. I’m sure Troy got the hint by now and is probably moving on to more important things. Like his campaign.”
I shrug and lift the T.V. remote. “Let’s see for ourselves.” In a flash, I picture Pepper going back to D.C. or New York, thinking she’s a free woman and ending up being forced into a marriage she didn’t sign up for.
I swallow down the tightness in my chest and flip through talk shows and shopping networks until I get to the news channel.
“Local farmer wins lottery,” I read off the screen.
“There you go—see—all better. I’ll give it a few days and…go back.”
“Pepper, that’s the local news.” I hit the next channel. “This is the national news.”
I point to the screen with a close-up of a photograph of her on the top right of the screen.
The banner across the bottom reads:
One Million Dollar Reward for Missing Penelope Walker.
“Troy Mayfield is offering a hefty reward for his missing fiancée. The mayoral candidate of Virginia refuses speculation of a runaway bride scenario and says he’s concerned for her safety and is expecting a call or note for ransom. Mr. Mayfield explains she was excited for their nuptials and wouldn’t have run off.”
The screen shifts to photos of the Pepper and the douche smiling and posing for cameras on a ski trip, with friends at dinner, and at a few high-profile events. I can see what Pepper meant. The man in the photos looks nothing like the man running for mayor.
“Mayfield is offering a generous sum of one million dollars to anyone who finds Ms. Walker. If you see this woman, call the number on the screen or the local police.”
Pepper’s face pales and she drops onto the couch.
“Let me guess…you think this is the most romantic thing anyone’s ever done for you?” I say dryly.
I circle the couch but don’t sit. I fold my arms, watching her. Her eyes are filled with moisture and her hands are shaking.
“Maybe…I should try talking to him?” she says absently, and I can tell she’s starting to lose it.
My fist is wound tight around the remote—so hard I could break it. Tossing it on the other side of the couch, I choose my words carefully. I choose not to shout because I know where my anger is coming from.
Fear.
Pepper is in some deep trouble if this man is willing to pay for her return. Especially after she told him she wanted out.
“Pepper.”
“We met waiting for an elevator at the Freedom Tower in Manhattan. I was there for a job interview and he was there for a meeting. I was so annoyed that the damn thing wasn’t coming and I was so nervous about my interview that I never even pushed the freaking button. Anyway, I was muttering to myself when he came up behind me, reaching for the button and said, “It helps when you push these things.” She laughs and swipes a tear.
I put my hands in my pockets. It’s the only movement I make. I don’t sit next to her. I don’t take her hand. I barely want to breathe at the risk of her stopping.
“I told him how nervous I was and that elevators aren’t really my thing—in fact I hate them—but when the office is on the fortieth floor, you make an exception.”
My lip quirks.
“He offered to take the ride up with me. But when my interview was over…he was there. Waiting by the elevator so I wouldn’t ride it alone when it was time to head down.”
I release a breath.
“He bailed on his meeting and took me for coffee. I think he was smitten that I didn’t know who he was. All the while, I was thinking the same. By that point, I’d already started going by Penelope Walker. I gave him the same “born and raised on the Upper East Side” background I had prepared for interviews so no one would connect me to my father.”
I give it a minute before I speak. “Can I ask a question?”
“The answer is probably because I’m an idiot.”
“I don’t think it is. I was going to ask, did you always want to move to the big city? I mean before your parents. Was it a dream of yours or something? Or did you just want to get far away from…everyone here?”
“I wanted to start fresh. I didn’t want to be the girl whose father committed fraud and then died in a car accident with my mother the night before his sentencing. I was living with a new name. A new identity.” She lifts her hair. “I even went blonde.”
“Did you love him?”
There’s a beat before she answers and I’m not sure I’m getting the response she was thinking of. “I loved the idea of him. He was my new…adventure.”
“Pepper. We need to talk to Noah again. This is a development he needs to know about.”
“You’ve all done enough and…I can’t afford a lawyer.”
“No one in my family will ever ask you for money.”
She stands, pacing. Her panic starting to surface. “No. I don’t want anyone’s help. I didn’t come here for that—I just wanted...to hide.” She glances around then looks at me in horror. “This was a mistake…everyone knows me here,” she whispers.
“Just calm down. I’m going to make a call and we’ll figure something out.”
Pepper watches me cautiously. Like I’m just another threat.
“I’m calling the Inn. We need to talk to my dad and my brothers. I’ve…” I take a breath and swallow. “I’ve got a plan. I think. I just need to talk it through with people I know. People I trust. And that’s not many in this town.”
“What if someone’s already spotted me here? What if they’re on their way here now?”
“Calm down. I can’t think with you freaking out,” I shout.
Shit.
That couldn’t have helped. But she’s really starting to test me.
She stares at me, but her breathing seems to calm. “Just give me a minute. I need to make a call. Maybe two.”