Chapter 6
Chapter Six
Part of Willa was just messing with him, but another part really needed that hug.
He turned all business. “Give me the keys. I’m going to gas up the car so we can get out of here.”
“But your ankle. You can’t drive.”
“I can drive twenty feet to the pumps.”
She slapped the keys in his hand. “Fine. You can be as mean and grumpy as you want, but now I know you’re actually a nice guy.”
“Hurry your ass up.”
“You want anything?” she called after him.
“Nothing.”
“Don’t you have to go to the bathroom?”
But he was already gone.
Well, she had to go. And she didn’t see what an extra ten minutes would matter. The storm was going to do its thing, whether they made stops or not.
Leaving her basket outside the restroom, she locked herself in a stall and shivered. It was July, so the air conditioner chilled her wet clothes. In the quiet isolation, she pulled out her phone. It was time to respond to her mom’s message.
The idea that her mom was angry at her for the way she handled things was outrageous.
Willa: How did you expect me to react to the news in front of the entire office? I was dating Nate. You knew that. And now he’s engaged to my sister?
She deleted it. That wasn’t how you dealt with Elizabeth Barrett.
Not only wouldn’t she show weakness, but she’d focus on the only thing that mattered.
Willa: Looking forward to getting started. I won’t let you down.
Good. Now, she could put the whole thing out of her mind.
Forget about the betrayal and focus on her goals.
She closed her eyes and pictured the penthouse she’d splurge on when she made partner.
The sun setting over the Hudson River, the floor-to-ceiling windows, the gourmet kitchen.
It was the sign that she’d made it. That all the years of hard work, the relentless push and strive, had culminated in success.
Now that she’d closed the book on today’s fiasco, she was free to enjoy the wedding weekend.
After flushing, she washed her hands and hurried out of the bathroom. The aroma of coffee lured her to the back of the store. With a choice between two hot beverages, she filled large Styrofoam cups with one of each. Then she loaded a giant bag with salty, oily popcorn and set it in the basket.
As she passed a shelf of hoodies, she thought about Decker standing by the pump in the driving rain, getting completely soaked, and grabbed him an XXL that read, Caribbean of the Rockies.
What else did they need? The article said he needed to drink electrolytes because hydration reduced swelling, so she grabbed a red sports drink from the refrigerator section.
On her way to the cashier, she passed by the pretzels and chips aisle, but she was more of a sugar girl, so she threw a few boxes of cookies and candy into the basket instead.
There’re only a few hours left. What’re you doing?
She didn’t care. Sending off that text message made her feel lighter, freer. And everything about this store made her feel warm and happy. Who cared how much she bought? She’d leave whatever they didn’t eat in a basket at the inn’s reception desk. Guests loved a treat when checking into a hotel.
After paying for everything, she dashed back outside. In the pouring rain, she spotted the nondescript black car at the pump. Decker was already inside. With plastic bags dangling off her arms and her hands full of hot beverages, she knocked on the passenger side window.
He cracked it open. “I told you I didn’t want anything.”
“Just take them.” Rain spattered all over her face.
After he relieved her of the drinks and one of the heavy bags, she got in and buckled up. Heat blasted through the vents, making the interior warm and toasty. Her skin burned at the contrast from the cold dampness. “It’s July, and I’m freezing.”
As she got them back on the highway, the bag rustled, and he pulled out the hoodie. “Is this for your dad?”
“No. It’s for you.”
“You didn’t have to do that.”
“Just put it on. Look at you.” She reached over and rubbed his arm. “You’re covered in goose bumps.” His skin was warmer than she’d thought, and she’d never felt muscles like that. A strange shudder ran through her, which surprised her because she’d never been attracted to jocks before.
She loved a man in a nice suit with a big, shiny watch.
But with the pheromones this man threw off, who wouldn’t be attracted to him?
Focus. With the steamy windows and unrelenting rain, she needed to pay attention as she cautiously entered the highway.
“Here.” He shoved it at her. “You wear it.”
“Listen, you’re in enough misery with the ankle. Put on the hoodie.”
“Fine.” He yanked it over his head.
“Hey, so what’s that Roman numeral on your wrist? The twelve?”
“It’s a reminder.” His clipped tone held a warning. He didn’t want to talk about it.
“Of what?”
“Of where I’m headed.”
Okay, fine. She’d drop it. But she might look him up online later, see what other tattoos he had and what they meant. “Now, you’ve got your choice of coffee or hot cocoa.” She tapped the white plastic lids, knowing he’d never choose the yummy one.
“Thanks.” He pried off a lid and took a long sip. “Ah. Nice and creamy. Hits the spot.”
The level of betrayal she felt in that moment felt like the last straw in a shitty day.
“Oh, sure. Now, he wants the sugar. You do know that’s nothing but chemicals, right?
Well, you enjoy it. Me, I love burnt, stale coffee.
” She picked up her cup, ready to drink it just to get something hot in her but got a whiff of cocoa.
She took a tentative sip. “Hot chocolate.” She blew into the tiny opening to get warmth to the tip of her nose. “That was mean of you.”
“You sure took it hard.”
“I did. I think I should’ve bought myself a support stuffed animal.” She gave him side eye. “Since I couldn’t get a hug if my life depended on it.” She took another sip. “It tastes just like when I was a kid.”
“You mean powdery? And about as chocolatey as a melted crayon?”
That about summed it up. “Exactly.”
He sipped his coffee and grimaced.
“That bad?” she asked.
“The worst.”
“Can you hand me the popcorn? We have to eat it while it’s hot.” The entire car smelled of it—just like a movie theater. “My mouth is watering.”
“I’m not eating that shit. And you shouldn’t either.” He rooted around the bag. “I’ll find something else.” He pulled out a six-pack of Oreos, two Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups, and a bag of cheddar cheese popcorn. “Is this how you normally eat?”
“Ha. Not even close.” She gave a bitter laugh. “My mom has a chef who preps meals for us every Sunday night. Very clean, very light.”
“That’s nice of her. Why’s that a bad thing?”
“Because for her, it’s not about what’s healthy. She needs us to ‘look the part.’”
“What part?”
“We’re representing her firm, right? So, she wants us to look powerful and polished. My mom’s motto is, ‘No one questions the woman who looks like she belongs at the table.’”
“Your mom’s quite a character.”
“She is.” Lightning lit up the sky, and a crack of thunder shook the windows.
The wipers could no longer keep up with the deluge of rain.
The winding highway just wasn’t safe to drive when there was such low visibility, even when she was only going twenty miles per hour. “I have to pull over. Let this pass.”
He checked the car’s clock, the muscle in his jaw popping.
“Believe me, I know how close we are, and I want to be there as much as you do. Fee and I are only children, so we grew up like sisters. I don’t want to miss a second of the celebration.
But we can’t risk an accident.” Except there was no shoulder.
What choice did she have but to keep going until she found a safe way to pull off? “First chance I get.”
It took her about thirty seconds to realize what she’d just said. She let out a startled laugh.
“What’s so funny?”
“I just said I was an only child.” She shook her head in disbelief.
“You’re not?”
“I have a half sister.” Who’s now engaged to my ex.
That’s wild. “But I barely knew her growing up. She’s three years younger and grew up in New York City, and by the time I started visiting my mom in the city, my sister was in boarding school.
Our paths only crossed when I joined my mom’s firm three years ago. ”
“But you spent holidays together, right? Went on vacations, the three of you? You sit around the table and eat dinner together?”
Considering how close his family was, hers had to seem weird.
And she supposed it was. “My mom takes us on separate vacations.” When Kendall graduated Harvard Law, her mom took her to Fiji.
Willa got a Paris shopping spree after passing the bar.
“My mom’s busy. She’s not just a founding partner.
She’s out there sourcing deals and schmoozing with clients.
She does her best to spend time with us—”
“But you only get her attention when you achieve something?”
The reality jarred her as viscerally as if she’d missed a step on a staircase. “Yes.” What else could she say? It was the truth. But when spoken out loud, it sure sounded ugly.
Especially coming from a total stranger.
“Sorry,” he said. “I can be a little blunt.”
“No, it’s okay. I like your honesty. It makes me feel…safe."
“Well, that’s a first.”
“What, that a woman feels safe around you?”
He gave her a smirk. “No, that someone appreciates my conversational style.”
“Oh, let’s not take it that far.” She smiled, not taking her eyes off the road.
But she thought about what he’d said. “You don’t know how much energy I spend trying to justify my mom’s behavior.
To myself. It’s like there’s a constant battle between her words and what my gut’s telling me.
Hearing you say it out loud…it cuts through all of that.
It’s like—oh. Right. Maybe I’m not wrong for thinking something’s off. “
“She’s your mom. You want a relationship with her.”