Chapter 21
21
McKay helped his mother sit up on her couch. Each movement brought strain to her face.
“Stop fussing over me.” She swatted at his hovering hands.
“That is a no go. You are the entire reason I came home. I’ll fuss all I want to.”
“If you are going to fuss, then the least you can do is entertain me and tell me about the woman.” Her eyes sparkled with interest—the first real animation he’d seen since they arrived home that morning.
“I told you the whole story.” In the end, lying hadn’t been an option. Mom got more truth than the cruise line lawyers were likely to want her to have. “She walked off of the plane and out of my life.”
“But you like her?”
McKay sat in the chair opposite of the couch. “I liked her a lot.”
More than like.
More than a lot.
He’d been on board with the whole marriage idea. Even if it was just a ruse to keep Dana off of social media.
“Have you texted, or snapped, or whatever you do?”
“I don’t have her number and she isn’t on any social media. She works in personal protection in Chicago. I think she has a high-profile client.” A client with children. He’d narrowed it down to three, not that it did him any good. He wouldn’t get within 100 yards of them.
“Can you leave a number at her work?”
“Probably not.” He didn’t dare. The last thing he needed was to be on Hastings Security’s radar. Dana had been correct that it was unprofessional for them to use her, knowing that she was a security professional. He should have pushed to contact Hastings over the matter, bringing in Dana from the start. “It’s okay, really. Between her work and the distance, it would have been difficult to continue the relationship for long.”
His mother’s knowing look—its power undiminished by the cancer—cut straight through his excuses. “I don’t believe you. You could have found a way if you wanted to.”
They had. There had been a few vague ideas on her side since her schedule varied. It would have been so much easier if they’d exchanged numbers. “We could have, but it doesn’t matter now. Do you want anything to eat?”
“No, I want to pretend for one minute that you had her number and hear all about her.”
To please his mother, McKay told the story again, with as much detail as he dared. When he talked about the Claddagh rings, he paused.
“Did you go back and get her one?”
“I did. It was a silly thought. She is the same size as you. You can have Dana’s too.” Pretending that he always intended it for his mother would be easier than having it sit on his nightstand and mocking him.
Mom shook her head. “I think you are giving up too easily.”
“What am I supposed to do?”
“Email her.”
“I don’t have her address.”
“Nonsense. Even I know that most employers use a name variant, try Dana dot Knight at Hastings Security or D dot Knight. Worst case, it bounces.”
“Or it goes into a black hole and I never know if she got it or not, or if she is ignoring it.” The thought of Dana deliberately ignoring his message twisted something in his chest.
“At least you would have tried. You mentioned talking to her boss. You could?—”
“No. Not contacting Hastings. I’d have to explain, and the cruise line should have hired her. I don’t think I should be the one to tell them.”
“I guess it is your loss.” Mom picked up the remote and turned on the TV. “Would you mind getting me a sandwich?”
McKay went into the kitchen. Mom had been less than subtle about ending the conversation where she did. She wanted him to stew and think about contacting Dana. The thought was completely unnecessary, as he’d been stewing for days. The rose gold ring would not let him forget what he gave up.
On her way out of town, Dana stopped at Hastings Security. The familiar glass doors greeted her—her reflection was not nearly as cheerful.
ZoElle appeared from her office, waddling slightly, one hand resting on her rounded belly. “Glad you stopped by.”
“I needed to grab a couple of things out of my gym locker. And I believe Chris and Tian had a package delivered here?”
“Oh, yes.” ZoElle pointed to a large box near reception. “You’ll forgive me if I don’t help you with that.” She patted her belly with a rueful smile.
Dana laughed. “I wouldn’t let you if you tried.”
“Do you have a minute to chat?” ZoElle’s tone carried that particular note that meant this wasn’t really a question.
“Sure,” Dana said hesitantly, following ZoElle into her office. The room still smelled faintly of ginger.
ZoElle shut the door and eased into her chair. “Is something wrong?” Dana asked.
“That’s what I would like you to tell me.”
“What do you mean?”
“Rumor has it that our little Hastings app fiasco brought you to the attention of a handsome officer aboard ship.” ZoElle’s eyes sparkled with interest.
“How did you hear that?”
“Javier.” ZoElle leaned back, adjusting a cushion behind her. “But I haven’t heard the rest of the story.”
“Just a minute. You’re living for gossip now?”
“Oh, please, give me something,” ZoElle said, rubbing her back. “I need a distraction from running to the bathroom every twenty minutes and being kicked in the diaphragm.”
“Yes, I met someone. But...” Dana trailed off, unsure how to explain the complicated tangle of emotions the cruise had left her with.
“But what?”
“There’s not a lot to tell that you haven’t heard already.”
“I think there is.” ZoElle handed her tablet to Dana. “I received this email this morning.”
“It’s not addressed to me.” Dana tried to hand the tablet back, but ZoElle’s expression stopped her.
“I think you should read it.”
ZoElle Hastings,
I doubt you remember me. I was one of the security members on board your infamous Panama cruise and, more recently, was on a cruise around Ireland with Dana Knight.
I’m writing to apologize to Hastings Security and, hopefully, to Dana herself.
We had an incident that was handled poorly, both by myself and, I feel, by my senior officer. Unfortunately, Dana was caught in the middle.
After reviewing what happened, I feel... I wish that I was at liberty to say more. However, I believe the cruise line owes Hastings Security—and specifically Dana—an apology.
I have spoken to my former superiors about this, and sadly, it will not happen.
My biggest regret is that I did not disobey orders and take Dana into my confidence.
Her role in what happened enabled us to take down an operation that spanned more than one cruise line— an operation that, if left unchecked, could have hurt many people.
Dana once told me that if I wanted her phone number, I should contact Hastings. I doubt she would trust me with that information now, but if you will, please pass on my sincerest apologies.
Thank you,
McKay Worth
Dana handed back the tablet, her hands slightly unsteady.
“Well?” ZoElle’s voice was gentle. “What happened?”
Dana described, as briefly as possible, the altercation with Chandler and what she’d learned from Amy-Kate. Speaking it aloud made her realize how much of her anger stemmed from hurt—not at being used in the investigation, but at feeling McKay hadn’t trusted her enough to include her.
“Wow,” ZoElle picked up a ginger cookie. “Do you want one? I don’t need them anymore but I can’t stop eating them.”
Dana took a cookie to give her a moment to process.
ZoElle brushed a crumb off of her blouse. “That is an unexpected twist to your cruise, to say the least. So, may I pass on your phone number?”
Dana bit her lip. “I’m not sure I’m ready to talk with him. I mean, I understand why he did what he did, and he was following orders, but?—”
“But you feel you still can’t trust him?”
“Something like that.” Though even as she said it, Dana wondered if she was being fair. After all, hadn’t she jumped to conclusions without giving him a chance to explain? Dad had pointed out the same things.
ZoElle tapped a couple of keys on her tablet. “There, I forwarded the email to you. Now you have his email address, and you can do anything you want with it.”
“Thanks, I think.”
“Do you need to grab any snacks from the break room for your drive?”
“No, I’m pretty well stocked.”
“Oh, please take some. Alan’s been getting me the weirdest things, and I really want them gone. The break room looks like a convenience store exploded.”
Dana laughed. “Well, if you have some of those little cookies.”
“I’m pretty sure there’s a case, or three. Alan thinks I need to eat enough for an army.”
The four-hour drive to Robyn’s Place stretched ahead of Dana, giving her plenty of time to think. She’d loaded her phone with audiobooks, but her mind would keep circling back to McKay’s email.
To email or not to email—that was the question.
It weighed on her every bit as much as Hamlet’s famous line.
Alan Hastings’s email wasn’t what McKay expected—though honestly, he wasn’t sure what he had expected. The message was short and businesslike, thanking McKay for his integrity in contacting them while acknowledging that his instinct to follow orders wasn’t entirely wrong. Professional. Cordial. Empty.
Most disappointing was the complete absence of any mention of Dana. Would Hastings Security pass on his message? He might never know. The uncertainty gnawed at him worse than seasickness in a hurricane.
After plugging his phone into the charger, he set his phone down with more force than necessary on his nightstand. The ring box from Galway sat there, mocking him. Frustrated, he yanked open the drawer and dumped the box in. At least he wouldn’t have to look at it anymore, wouldn’t have to remember the way Dana’s eyes had lit up in that jewelry shop, or how she’d blushed when the shopkeeper assumed they were together.
Other than at bedtime, he kept himself busy enough that he hardly missed Dana—except when his mother mentioned her, which happened with increasing frequency. Or when Gracie asked if there were any more little lambs hidden in his suitcases. Or when he took his mother to the hospital and saw someone leaving on crutches, remembering how Dana had managed hers with surprising grace.
He searched the internet again. No Dana Knight. Was it even possible for a twenty-something-year-old woman to be that absent from the internet? Weren’t women practically required to have Instagram accounts full of food photos and sunset shots? But then again, she worked in personal security. Maybe staying off social media was part of her job.
The baby monitor on his nightstand crackled—a new addition since his mother’s surgery left her weaker than expected. He checked to make sure the other end in his mother’s room was working properly, and listened to her steady breathing for a moment. Then he punched his pillow and attempted to sleep, trying not to think about how different his night had been in Bath, walking the lamp-lit streets with Dana until dawn threatened.