Chapter 55
Over the past couple months, I’ve spent enough time cramped in this meeting hall to last me a lifetime. Every chair has a person in it, and the rest of the crowd stands shoulder to shoulder along the walls.
I called Jake from the shelter earlier today to ask if he’d like to walk over together. He had told me to go on ahead and he’d meet me. Given the plan, I opted for a spot on the back wall rather than trying to fight people off to save him a seat.
But as the hand on the clock ticks closer and closer to the meeting time, he’s yet to arrive.
Standing up on my tiptoes, I scan the room once more. There are my parents sitting with Parker. And Claire is here with Levi and her grandmother. I even spot Richard in the front row. He’s adjusting his suit jacket and looking dangerously confident.
And he’s alone.
I thought maybe he would have caught Jake, forced him to sit together as a united front for Carpenter Collection. But no, Jake is truly nowhere to be seen.
It’s terribly hot, and my hair is sticking to the back of my neck, and I want nothing more than to see his face in this horrible, large crowd.
Up front, the trustees file in from a side door and move in an orderly line to the waiting table. One by one they pull out a chair and sit, facing their village. The clock above their heads reads seven o’clock sharp now. Time for the meeting to begin.
My heart slams in my chest, and I want to shout out for them to wait. That one of the bidders isn’t here. They can’t start without Jake, not after everything.
There’s a phone out in the lobby; I could call him if I had memorized his number.
“Dammit,” I mutter. “Where are you?”
And what could be more important than being here for this.
Panic starts to climb up my chest, fingers of fear tightening on my throat. Something must be wrong. Something must have happened. It’s the only thing that would keep him away.
“Thank you all for coming tonight,” Garrison announces from the front of the meeting hall. “I know this decision has been a long time coming, but I want to start by giving you background on our bidders and our process that led to our decision.”
I don’t wait to hear more. This means I have time to find Jake—and I have to find Jake.
Shoving my way through the crowd, I clumsily slip my coat on as I go and nearly break into a run once I hit the town hall’s front steps.
I cross Washington and head for the alley behind Dina’s. As soon as I round the corner of the restaurant, his apartment comes into view. Like always, the light over his front stoop is on, welcoming me as I approach.
“Jake?” I call, reaching up and rapping my knuckles on the door. There’s a distinct sound of movement on the other side. Then a single bark from Charlie.
But the door doesn’t open.
I knock once more, this time with added force. Again, only Charlie responds. I try the knob to find the door locked.
“Dammit,” I repeat.
He insisted on giving me a key the other day, and I’m kicking myself for not having it right now.
I turn to sit in a patio chair and think when I see the flash of an envelope from the corner of my eye. It’s hanging from the wall mounted mailbox, and has my name scrawled across the front.
My hands shake as I reach for it. There are a million reasons going through my mind of why he’d write me a letter, and none of them are particularly good.
The meeting happening up the street feels like a far-off issue now, and that sense of panic tightens around my throat as I slip a finger under the seal and rip it open.
Then with a deep breath, I take a look at what’s inside.