CHAPTER 14
BLANCHETTE
Later that night, when I stepped into my apartment, I didn’t even feel relief. I only felt exhaustion as it pressed down onto my shoulders and the twinge in my back from being slumped in traffic for the last few hours as I’d crawled back to Graymore.
My head pounded as a siren wailed past outside, illuminating the walls blue and red. The light flickered across the smart-glass windows, briefly activating the embedded display before dimming again.
My phone chimed. Leaning my hip on my kitchen counter, I checked it, hating that I hoped it might be from Jonathan, who didn’t even have my number.
But it was from Meg, making sure I’d made it back home.
I hadn’t told her about what had transpired between me and Jonathan in Juniper Woods.
I didn’t want to give that conversation a voice or weight.
I’d rejected her calls on my way home, spending the day in a quiet haze as prickling words had floated through my mind on repeat.
In the end, I knew June better than you.
I squeezed my eyes shut, my heart clenching tight. I breathed, slowly. In and out. In and out.
And then I sent off a quick text to Meg, hoping the emojis I sent would mask the lingering sadness and ache.
I didn’t bother to turn on the lights. I made my way over to the couch and collapsed down into it. Worn and as tired as I was, it enveloped me, the cushions sagging.
After a quick internal debate, and because maybe I needed the punishment, I navigated to my saved voicemails. I scrolled down until I found the one I was looking for in particular, dated almost a year ago.
I tapped on it and waited with bated breath.
My vision went blurry when I heard her voice cut through the sudden silence.
“Hi, sweetheart, it’s me. Just calling to check up on you…
but I think you’re probably busy with that big project.
That was this week, wasn’t it? Oh, I’m sure you told me, but I can’t quite remember.
Well, I’m just sitting out in the garden.
It’s a beautiful day here, but we’re expecting a storm later this week.
Lots of rain coming…but it’s been so dry lately, so I think the roses will like it.
You should see ’em—the blooms are as big as your head, you smart girl. ”
Her chuckle turned into a rasping cough.
Once she stopped, she continued, “Well, I’m just waiting on a friend to take me into town, so figured I’d try calling you while I waited.
I know you don’t know your plans for next month yet, but I was hoping you might be able to come and stay for a weekend.
I have your room just as you left it. And I could make you all your favorites.
Whatever you want. So, you just let me know, sweetheart.
But I know you’re busy. Oh, my friend just pulled up.
I have to run. I love you, and let’s talk soon, all right? I want to hear how your project went.”
The voicemail ended, and I played it again. And again. And again. I’d make copies of it and saved the files on my computer. Because there was a part of me that feared I’d forget the sound of her voice.
It was the last voicemail she’d ever left me.
I’d been meaning to return her call. The project she’d been talking about had been one of the first that Erik had assigned to me. I’d wanted to make a good impression…but I’d realized quickly how demanding he could be. That week had been hell as I’d tried to wrap it up.
And only a few days after that voicemail, I’d received the call that she’d passed away. In her sleep. Unexpectedly. Here one moment…gone the next.
And I didn’t remember much after that until the funeral. Meg had handled a lot of it, taking charge, which I would forever be grateful for. I remembered getting the call from Gerry, one of my grandmother’s neighbors. After that…I remembered standing at her gravesite.
And I remembered that I’d never called her back.
A big piece of me had been broken ever since. And I’d numbed the grief and guilt and pain with work. Waking up at dawn and staying at the office until dark. It had been difficult to be by myself because when I was alone, all these dark, terrible thoughts came.
Jonathan had picked open that festering scab, and now I was bleeding again. Only somehow it felt worse. Like he’d held up a mirror and all I could do was stare at myself. There was no escape this time.
And so, I played the voicemail over and over again in my dark apartment, with the sounds of the city outside. On a loop. Until the couch cushion was damp beneath my cheek from my tears, until my stomach was cramping and my body was trembling.
Tonight I would punish myself. I would remember her voice. I would remember that I’d been too consumed in my own life to call her back.
Because tomorrow I’d picked myself back up and try to pretend that Juniper Hollow—or Jonathan—had never happened.
Or, at least, I would try.
Two days later, I sniffed hard, trying to clear my stuffy nose, but it clung stubbornly, that dull congestion settling back in like it always did here, from icy, stale air that never quite moved. But my tissues were on my desk and I desperately needed a coffee refill.
I was jittery, my hands shaking as I poured the lukewarm liquid from the glass carafe. I couldn’t remember if I’d eaten this morning or not. Maybe a little granola bar? Or had that been yesterday?
The fluorescent lights were bright as I maneuvered back to my desk. Just a few more emails to send off and then I could break for lunch.
When I checked my phone, I saw another text from Meg.
Meg: Hot new restaurant just opened in Willowmere. Rave reviews, high end cuisine, and I know the chef. Come with me tonight, my treat!
I sighed. She knew something was up. I’d been dodging her texts trying to make plans. If I declined another invite, she’d just show up at my door tonight and drag me there herself.
I sent a text back: Raincheck for the weekend? Erik has me playing catch up from last week. I’ll be here late.
The truth was…I didn’t want to see her. I didn’t want to see anyone. And if I saw Meg, she’d drag the truth about what happened in Juniper Woods out of me, and I was really tired of crying.
Truth be told, I was a little pissed that she’d pushed for the vacation in the first place, now that the proverbial dust had settled.
Everwick had and always would be a sore place for me.
Meg knew that. But she’d pushed anyway, thinking it would fix me.
There was a reason why I hadn’t wanted to go back.
Because it brought up emotions I’d never properly dealt with and didn’t know how to manage.
Maybe it was misplaced anger. Maybe I just needed someone to blame right now as I was licking my own wounds.
But it was also why I’d been avoiding her.
I didn’t want to say something I’d regret.
And Meg had always been there for me, even if I thought she could be insensitive and bullheaded at times.
Twenty minutes later, my coffee mug was empty and I knew I had to get some food in me or I might pass out on the office floor again. I grabbed my purse, hoping that Erik wouldn’t return until I got back, and darted toward the elevator bank.
“Heading out?”
I slowed a step. Bernie leaned out from his cubicle, spectacles sliding slightly down his nose as he peered over the partition at me.
“Lunch,” I said weakly. “Doctor’s orders. If I don’t eat something soon, I might actually pass out on the office floor again.”
Bernie nodded sagely like he approved of the prescription. “A wise plan. I’ll have a banana-walnut muffin ready for you as a snack when you return.”
I smiled faintly despite myself. Bernie always made me feel better.
Just then a voice cut across the office floor.
“Bernard.”
Erik.
Bernie’s eyes widened theatrically, and he slowly turned his head toward me, bulging his eyes in exaggerated dread. “Speak of the devil,” he muttered under his breath.
I couldn’t help it—I giggled. Bernie gave a small shrug, straightened his tie, and headed toward Erik’s office.
When I got down to the lobby, my heels clacked on the marble floors. Looking down, I saw my reflection peering up at me. A strange, lost girl in her upside-down world. I saw her frown.
I looked terrible.
“Most people eat lunch around noon, you know,” came the voice.
I inhaled a quick breath as my head snapped up, my steps faltering on the polished marble.
Shock made me blink at the familiar figure who was rising from the sleek, modern couches in the reception area.
I thought he looked out of place in his jeans and black T-shirt.
I half expected to see flecks of sawdust on him, like he was plucked fresh from Juniper Hollow, cabin number six, and transported into Skoll Corp’s lobby.
“I had to lie to the guards because they thought I was loitering while I was waiting for you,” Jonathan told me when he was within arm’s length.
Even though I was in heels and not sneakers, he towered over me, making me crane my neck back to look up at him.
“I almost thought you weren’t in the office today. ”
“What are you doing here?” I asked when my tongue finally unstuck itself from the roof of my mouth. “You…you shouldn’t be here.”
Now that my initial shock had passed, I felt my guard go up. I imagined bricks stacking, piece by piece. Strong and stable. Impenetrable.
“Any lunch plans?” Jonathan asked, peering at me with too-familiar blue eyes that looked lighter in the bright lobby. His gaze flicked over my shoulder to the guards who had probably been giving him a hard time. “I was hoping we could talk. Got a lot to explain…and probably some apologizing to do.”
I could feel the security lenses tracking us even here, subtle but constant—the space itself always listening. “Only some?” I asked, my tone a little harsh.
“A lot,” he amended. “Have lunch with me.”
My spine stiffened. “No, I don’t think—”
“I can tell you whatever you want to know about me and your grandmother,” he added. “No half-truths. The whole truth.”
My jaw tightened as I stared up at him. His shoulders were so wide, I couldn’t see the doors leading outside.
It almost hurt to look at him…because I couldn’t help but remember him up at Cryer’s Point.
His teasing grin. His goofy, surprising jokes.
The way the warm timbre of his voice curled in my belly.
Was this just another test of his?
But…why come all the way to Graymore just to twist the knife?
I’d searched his name while I’d been back, just to verify the truth of Meg’s words. Perhaps to make myself feel better. Perhaps to confirm that he was a corrupt bastard, that I’d just read him all wrong.
And it had felt like a punch in the gut, seeing photos of him underneath headlines. In a suit and tie, surrounded by other men in suit and ties, their faces drawn and cold. It didn’t make sense to me. In the end, it hadn’t made me feel better. It had made me feel worse.
But one thing I did ascertain from my extensive web sleuthing was that shortly after the trial, Jonathan Wolfe had disappeared. Left his job and Graymore shortly after.
So why come back? If he really had wanted to disappear, why risk coming back here just to speak with me?
Nothing about Jonathan Wolfe made sense.
But he’d dangled a carrot in front of me…one I couldn’t resist, no matter how cruel his words had been in Juniper Woods. This was about my grandmother. Nothing more.
“There’s a café here in the plaza,” I said, brushing past him.
Through the glass doors, holo-ads flickered to life across the way, casting shifting color over the pavement like artificial daylight.
“I’ll take that as a yes,” he said, the edge of his lip quirking up as he regarded me, big hands tucked into the pockets of his jeans.
I ignored the way that hesitant smile made me feel.
Instead, I said, “I don’t have a lot of time. So, we’d better hurry.”