Chapter 25
COOPER
We schedule a time to tour The Whitmore tomorrow, and Stephanie immediately exits the room. I want to follow her, but McKay pulls Chase and I into a side conversation about something that I couldn’t care less about.
I’m positive Chase was the one that cheated on Stephanie, and it puts me on edge. Do I ask Stephanie about it? Do I let it go? Do I punch Chase Collins in his suntanned face? My fist subtly clenches at the idea, and I realize I like that option quite a bit.
Once McKay finishes, I quickly get in the elevator and head for the lobby, hoping I can catch Stephanie and make sure she’s okay. My eyes drop to the floor, my thoughts continue spiraling, and my impatience mounts. When the doors open, I keep my head down and walk.
I look up when the smells and sounds alert me that I might not be in the right place.
Sure enough, I’m not. I’m not in the lobby but in some kind of maintenance area.
I give myself an internal eye roll; I’m obviously so distracted by my own thoughts that I can’t even hit the correct button on an elevator.
I return to the elevator and hit the up button.
While waiting, I notice a drinking fountain next to the elevator and decide a cold drink of water might help clear my mind.
I lean over the faucet and push the button, but the water doesn’t come out in a gentle arch—it shoots straight up and hits me square in the face.
Then the faucet itself falls completely off, and the water fountain turns into a geyser.
My shirt is instantly soaked as I try to stop the flow with my hands. My efforts accomplish exactly nothing. Then the entire fountain shifts, and water starts spurting out from the wall as well. Within seconds, I look as if I’d been in the shower for ten minutes.
“Hello! Is anyone around? I need some help over here!” I’m yelling, desperate for anyone to hear me.
The elevator dings, and when the doors open, an older-looking man with a portly belly, handle-bar mustache, and maintenance shirt with GLEN stitched on the left pocket steps out holding a tool box.
He stops in his tracks and stares at me in shock.
“Hey! Help me! This thing is broken!”
He doesn’t even move, though the water continues to gush all over me. Then, with absolutely no urgency, he walks the few steps to the fountain, bends over, and turns a nob. The water stops, and he stands back up to stare at me—drenched and dripping—while holding his tool box.
Then he simply points to a sign on the wall.
“Water fountain broken. DO NOT USE!”
We stare at each other for another heartbeat before I wordlessly push the button to, once again, summon the elevator. When it opens, I enter and proceed to the lobby, before I walk—or should I say drip?—to my car.
My white, long-sleeved shirt is plastered to my chest, my dark pants cling to my legs, and my soaking suit jacket is draped over one of my arms.
As I approach my car, I look up and stop in my tracks.
Stephanie is still here, and she’s pacing behind a car that’s parked about five spaces from mine.
She looks up and stops pacing when she notices me.
The look on her face suggests that she’s just as surprised to see me—or maybe that she’s surprised to see me in this condition.
Her eyes are huge as she slowly takes me in, from head to soggy shoes and back to my head again. “You’re wet.”
“Yes.” I look down and see a puddle forming around my feet. “It would appear that I am. I had a nasty run-in with a broken drinking fountain.”
“But you’re wet.”
My brows dip. “Yep. I am.”
I remain silent. There’s no good response to the look on her face. She’s gawking at me as if I had two heads.
Then she starts muttering under her breath—something about swimming and lake—before she blurts out, “Ask me if my parents are in good health.”
“Excuse me?” I must have misheard her.
“Ask me if my parents are in good health!” Her voice sounds almost strangled, and her teeth are clenched.
“Ask you if your parents are healthy?” I’m so confused.
“NO! If my parents are in good health. Say it like that. I mean, use those words. Exactly.” When I don’t answer or move, her voice gets quieter, but no less intense. “Please, just do it!” I think I see a vein popping from her temple.
“Okay, fine.” I take a moment to gather my thoughts, trying to find any purpose to this moment. “Are your parents in good health?”
“Gah!” Her eyes close, her head falls back, and she releases a massive breath.
Her face comes down, and she stares directly into my eyes with the fierceness of a lioness about to attack.
“Mathew Macfadyen can suck a rotten egg for all I care. Colin for life!” Then she abruptly turns, gets in her car, and drives away.
I open my mouth to call after her, but I have no idea what to say. So I just stand there—soaking wet, jaw wide open, and trying to understand what happened.