Chapter Five
Daddy’s voice followed me through the mayor’s-office doorway.
“Shaylene, stop a minute.”
I stopped with my tote over one shoulder. “That tone usually comes with a podium.”
“It comes with six unanswered calls.”
“I saw the missed calls.”
After leaving the ranch, I’d stopped at the guesthouse long enough to change into a polished blue cotton dress and my good boots. I reached work a little after ten-thirty and covered a yawn before Daddy could notice it. Titus had been worth every missing hour.
Daddy crossed the reception area, hugged me hard, and kept both hands on my shoulders. “Are you all right?”
“I’m fine.”
“You left yesterday without telling me where you were going, then turned off your phone.”
“I told the front desk I was taking the afternoon.”
“That isn’t the same as telling me.”
“No, it was telling the office.”
He frowned. “Sugar, I was worried.”
I touched his wrist. “I should’ve let you know I was safe. I’m sorry I worried you.”
“Then tell me where you were.”
“I had personal plans.”
“Who were you with?”
“That’s still personal, Daddy.”
He exhaled through his nose. “Your brothers were worried too.”
My phone started vibrating inside my tote. Garrett’s name filled the screen when I pulled it out. I still hadn’t opened the four texts or the photograph from my younger brother, Bobby.
“I’ll answer Garrett before he calls you again.” I accepted the call.
“Shay, are you all right?”
“I’m standing in the mayor’s office.”
“Dad said you disappeared.”
“I took one afternoon off. I’m fine.”
“I’m glad you’re safe,” Garrett said. “Next time, send one text so we know you’re safe.”
“I will.”
“And call Bobby. He spent half the chamber breakfast predicting where we’d find your abandoned SUV.”
I looked at Daddy. “You all made it through the chamber breakfast?”
His eyebrows pulled together. “Of course we did.”
“Without me?”
“We managed.”
The front-desk clerk covered a smile with her coffee cup.
“I’m proud of everyone,” I said.
Garrett laughed in my ear. “Dad had to find the name cards.”
“They were alphabetized in the blue event box.”
“He found them eventually.”
Daddy pointed toward his office. “I knew exactly where they were.”
“After you called me twice,” Garrett said.
“Was that why you called me six times?” I asked.
“The first two were about the breakfast,” Daddy said. “The other four were because you didn’t answer.”
That sounded enough like Daddy to be true.
Garrett cleared his throat. “I have to go. Call me later, and please warn us before your next mysterious afternoon.”
“I’ll warn you that I’m taking an afternoon. The mystery stays mine.”
“That’s fair.” His voice softened. “I love you.”
“I love you too.”
I ended the call without mentioning Titus and opened Bobby’s messages.
BOBBY: Dad has asked where you are three times.
BOBBY: Garrett says not to speculate.
BOBBY: I’m speculating.
BOBBY: Current theory attached.
The photograph showed a hand-drawn map of Copper Falls on a chamber-breakfast napkin. Bobby had marked my presumed route with an arrow that left the courthouse, passed the county line, and ended beside a stick figure labeled SHAY, LIVING FREE.
A laugh escaped me.
Daddy leaned toward the screen. “What did he send?”
“Evidence that Bobby shouldn’t be left alone with office supplies.”
“I told him you weren’t running away.”
“I wasn’t.” I slid the phone into my tote. “I took an afternoon.”
“You missed an important breakfast.”
“You moved it for Garrett. Nobody told me my attendance was essential.”
“You always handle it.”
He said it as if that settled the matter.
I set my tote beside my desk and looked at the reception area. The registration sheets had been returned. The event box sat closed on the credenza.
“The office handled it,” I said. “That’s a good thing.”
Daddy’s frown deepened. “It would’ve gone smoother with you there.”
“Most things do.” I smiled before the answer could become a speech. “I’m still allowed to take time off.”
He studied me for a moment. “You’re different today.”
“I’m tired.”
“That isn’t what I mean.”
The phone on my desk rang. I picked it up before he could continue.
“Mayor’s office, this is Shay.”
“I spoke to your father at breakfast about that Calhoun bar,” a woman said. “The bass was encouraging lawlessness again last night.”
“Was the music still playing after the permitted cutoff?”
“I don’t know what time his permit says. It was after ten.”
“Did you call the nonemergency line while it was happening?”
“No. I told Mayor Luttrell. He said you’d handle Titus Calhoun.”
“I’ll record your concern. If you believe the bar is violating its permitted hours or the noise ordinance, the appropriate department can verify that when it happens.”
“I’ve donated to every campaign your father has run.”
“I appreciate your support for the town. The process is the same for every business.”
“Then note that I expect action.”
“I’ll note your concern.”
She ended the call. I placed the note in the general complaint tray.
Daddy waited until the receiver touched its cradle. “That was the concern I wanted to discuss.”
“You already discussed it with her.”
“I told her we’d speak to Titus.”
“No, you told her I’d handle it.”
“And you will.”
“I just did.”
He came closer to my desk. “Shaylene.”
“Did she report music after the permitted cutoff?”
“She said it was loud.”
“Did anyone verify a violation?”
“That isn’t the point.”
“It’s exactly the point.” I turned the note so he could see my questions and the blank spaces beside them. “If Sin & Tonic breaks a rule, the city can respond to the violation. If it doesn’t, I’m not asking Titus to change a lawful business because one donor dislikes the bass.”
Daddy’s mouth tightened. “You sound like a Calhoun.”
“I sound like the person who read the permit.”
Across the reception area, the clerk became deeply interested in her computer.
Daddy lowered his voice. “You’re defending him.”
“I’m applying the same standard to him that I’d apply to anyone else.”
“He’ll take advantage of that.”
“He didn’t ask for special treatment on Monday, and he won’t get it today.”
He rubbed one hand over his silvering hair. “Call him and remind him people are paying attention.”
“No.”
Daddy went still.
I held his gaze.
“I won’t deliver another warning when there’s no verified violation,” I continued. “The complaint is recorded. If she calls during an actual problem, the correct department can check it.”
“You work for me.”
“I work for the mayor’s office.”
I spoke quietly. “I love you. I’m still not calling Titus.”
Daddy looked toward his office, then back at me. “We’ll discuss this later.”
“We can discuss it. The answer won’t change.”
He walked away without slamming the door, which counted as restraint in the Luttrell family.
The clerk waited until it closed.
“Do you want me to hold your calls?” she asked.
“No, send them through.”
Her laugh followed me as I sat down.
The morning’s correspondence had been stacked neatly beside my keyboard.
I worked through it, corrected a contract date, and sent the committee packet Daddy had forgotten to approve before the breakfast. The phones kept ringing, the copier jammed once, and everyone solved the problems in front of them.
By noon, the only sign of my absence was that someone had placed the coffee service on the wrong end of the room.
A boxed turkey sandwich appeared on my desk with a bottle of water and a note from the front desk: YOU MISSED THE brEAKFAST, BUT WE SAVED YOU LUNCH.
I ate half the sandwich before calling Brandi.
She answered on the second ring. Her strawberry-blond bob swung into view, and bright red earrings brushed her jaw. “You’re alive.”
“News travels fast.”
“Bobby texted me.”
I stared at the screen. “Why does Bobby have your number?”
“Your birthday dinner. You put us in a group chat.”
“That was two years ago.”
“He’s committed to community outreach.”
“What did he say?”
“That you vanished into the Texas wilderness and returned with evasive answers.”
“I went to a cattle ranch, not an unmapped continent.”
Brandi’s eyes widened. “You stayed.”
I took another bite of the sandwich to delay answering.
“You stayed,” she repeated.
“I stayed.”
“At Titus’s ranch?”
“Yes.”
“Overnight?”
“Yes.”
She pressed both hands over her mouth. The squeal still escaped around her fingers.
“Please don’t make that sound while I’m at work.”
“I’m being supportive.”
“You’re frightening municipal employees.”
The clerk glanced into my office. I lowered the volume.
Brandi leaned closer. “Was it wonderful?”
“The whole day was wonderful.”
Her expression softened. “That wasn’t the answer I expected.”
“It’s the answer you’re getting.”
“I’m proud of you for maintaining boundaries while giving me almost nothing.”
“I learned from Daddy.”
“Don’t ruin the moment.” She picked up a mug. “What happened at the office?”
“I told him I wasn’t calling Titus about another unsupported complaint.”
Brandi paused with the mug near her lips. “You told your father no?”
“I did.”
“Was there thunder? Did the courthouse tilt?”
“He said we’d discuss it later.”
“So there’s still time.”
I laughed and reached for my water.
Brandi’s smile faded into something more thoughtful. “Are you ready for later?”
I looked toward Daddy’s closed door.
“I’m telling him tomorrow.”
“About Titus?”
“About the bungalow. About leaving the office. About Titus.”
Brandi set down her mug. “All at once?”
“If I spread it across three conversations, he’ll use the time between them to organize a committee.”
“That is a credible threat.”
“I don’t want to hide the bungalow until it sells anymore. And I don’t want whatever this is with Titus to stay hidden because our fathers can’t explain an argument they inherited.”
“What is it with Titus?”
I ran my thumb over the edge of the sandwich wrapper. “It changed yesterday.”
“How?”
“I saw how he lives. I worked beside him. We talked about things that had nothing to do with the list.” I smiled before I could stop myself. “I slept in his bed and woke up wanting to stay.”
Brandi went quiet.
“I don’t know what we’re calling it yet,” I said. “I’m not pretending it’s temporary either.”