by Beck, Jamie
“No.”
“Peyton, you’re stuck with me for twenty-four hours, so you might as well come out with it, because you can’t hide from me for that long,” he pressed.
She glanced at Claire and him. The worry pushed up from her chest, making her eyes and nose sting. Rather than dissolve into a puddle on the porch, she tensed every muscle and tapped into her strength. “Dr. Wang found a small lump during my exam yesterday. We don’t know what’s what, so I’m getting an MRI next week and I really don’t want to talk about it or Mitch, okay?”
“Wait, what?” Logan’s face went ashen.
Claire cut through his question with her own. “Did Mitch end things because you might be sick again?”
“Are you sick again?” Logan rasped.
Peyton couldn’t deal with the third degree or soothing anyone else’s emotions when she hadn’t yet gotten her own under wraps. “I just said I don’t want to talk about this now, and I mean it. So please, please, please drop it.”
Before they could do or say another thing, she turned and jogged to the car, blinking nonstop. The confession had not been part of her plan, and now she’d be trapped in a car and on a plane with Logan.
Frak.
As she slid into the back seat for the second time, she caught a glimpse of Logan and Claire in an embrace. Claire dabbed the outer corner of his eye before they broke apart. He kissed her again, then came to the car.
When he joined Peyton in the back seat, he stared straight ahead without making eye contact. Neither spoke while the car wound through the quiet streets of Sanctuary Sound. She laid her head back against the seat and closed her eyes. Two minutes later, as Jerry gunned the engine to merge onto I-95 South, Logan grasped Peyton’s hand and squeezed it.
The tears that she’d been holding inside began to leak from her eyes, but she couldn’t look at her brother.
“I love you,” he said, reaching over to wipe her stray tears.
“I love you, too.”
“Should we cancel this trip? It feels like too much—”
“Absolutely not.” She opened her eyes and looked at Logan. “Days ago I would’ve been happy to have the tour go away, but not now. Distractions helped me last time, so let’s focus on the event and pretend like it’s any other day.”
He pulled a face. “I’d made plans for us to meet up with Johnny Murello after the event. He’d sold me on a new restaurant in the West Loop, but maybe I should cancel.”
“No! I told you I need distractions. Let’s assume the event will go well, in which case I’ll be happy to catch up with him and have a good meal rather than sit alone in my room. Of course, if things go south . . .” She shrugged.
Logan bumped shoulders, making a brave stab at playfulness. “Any ex-boyfriends in Chicago you want to warn me about?”
She sniggered, which felt great. Maybe telling Logan her secret hadn’t been the worst decision she’d made in the past twenty-four hours.
Her phone pinged a notification, so she glanced at it to find a direct message in her Facebook author account.
Ms. Prescott,
You won’t remember me, but we met in Paris after your reading, where you kindly spent extra time talking to me about my wife. We’ve since been reading your book together. She’s sorry she didn’t meet you in person, especially after I told her of your compassion. Talking with you helped me feel stronger and able to help her better, so I wanted to thank you for helping so many people with your courage. We wish you well.
Sincerely,
Paul Boutell
“Good news?” Logan asked cautiously.
“Not from the doctor.” She reached across the seat and grabbed his hand. “I know I’ve bitched a ton about all of this, but thank you for pushing me to do this book, Logan. Right now it and the people we meet are my salvation.”
He pulled her to his side and, like a good brother who’d paid attention at the reading in New York, simply said, “I love you.”
Chapter Twenty
After his publisher meeting, Mitch was dodging pedestrian traffic as he rounded the corner to his office—lunch bag in hand—when he pulled up short.
Claire’s red hair and her cane, Rosie, would be hard to miss under normal circumstances. At the moment, her pink-and-green dress also stood out amid the gray and black clothing of other passersby. Pacing in a tight circle, she resembled a squirrel in search of food, and Rosie looked more like a weapon than a helpful apparatus.
“Claire?” he asked. “What are you doing here?”
He recalled that she and Logan kept a place in Chelsea, but that was more than a mile north of his Hudson Square office.
“Mitch?” Her head whipped up and her mouth fell open. “I, um, I didn’t . . . I should . . . Oh, shoot.”
He noted her red cheeks even as her eyes scanned his face like they were hunting for lost treasure.
“You seem upset.” He gestured toward the door. “Would you like to come upstairs for some water or tea?”
She glanced around furtively, tightening her grip on Rosie. “Oh, no, thank you. I shouldn’t bother you . . .”
The chance of this run-in being a pure coincidence seemed about nil to Mitch. She’d seek him out only for something to do with the Prescotts, although she appeared to be plagued by second thoughts.
Desperate for news about Peyton, he tried to keep her there.
“It’s no bother. Come on in.” He held the door for her, and then she followed him to the elevator for the one-story ride up to his office. When they entered the cramped but well-appointed office, he was grateful that Rebecca wasn’t at her workstation. “Can I fix you a tea?”
“I don’t need tea, Mitch.” Her expression remained suspended halfway between a glower and that of a terrified rabbit.
“I assume you’ve come because of Logan or Peyton.”
“Yes, I did, but I shouldn’t have.” She smoothed her skirt and fidgeted with her white-and-gold necklace.
He remained rooted in his spot. “Is this about the tour dates?”
“No.” She bit her lip. “Honestly, none of this is my business.”
“None of what?”
“Anything to do with Peyton.” She shrugged, hanging her head.
His anxiety rose in direct proportion to Claire’s obvious discomfort. “Rebecca should return soon. Let’s go to my office for privacy.”
She glanced back toward the main door while nibbling her lip before deciding to follow him. He closed his office door while she took a seat. After tossing his lunch on his desk, he leaned his hip against the desk’s edge and crossed his arms. “You’re obviously upset, so please tell me why you tracked me down.”
She tapped her cheeks with her palms. “Believe me, the last thing I thought I’d be doing when I woke up this morning was storming your office.”
“Does Peyton know you’re here?” His erratic heartbeat made him light-headed. He should sit, but he couldn’t move.
“Of course not! I haven’t spoken to her or Logan since they left for the airport this morning, and I’m sure they have much bigger things on their minds right now than checking in with me.” She widened her eyes in a way that suggested he knew what she meant by “bigger things.”
Claire’s emphatic tone seemed disproportionate to any concerns Logan or Peyton might’ve had about the Chicago event. His mind wandered. Had Peyton complained about him letting Rebecca handle the details? Had she secretly wanted him to go with her? No. Peyton had Logan, whom she always turned to for everything. So what had Claire so upset?
“Does this have anything to do with Todd?” he ventured, certain he’d scowled, as he did anytime he pictured that man’s face.
Claire cleared her throat. “Isn’t his reappearance rather ironic at this point in time?”
Ironic?
“He certainly threw a monkey wrench into everyone’s evening.” Worse, he’d crushed the bud of Mitch’s new relationship beneath his heel on his way out the door. Never before had Mitch hated someone he did
n’t know. “But what’s he have to do with your visit?”
When Claire shook her head, the disappointed gesture seemed aimed at him, not Todd. “Last weekend, I asked you point-blank if you were a good guy, and you promised me that you were.”
Mitch shrugged, turning his palms up. “And?”
“And yet you’re exactly like Todd,” she spat. “With everything else Peyton’s dealing with, and how it will affect Logan and the rest of the family, she deserved better from you.”
Mitch rocked back against his desk. “Claire, I have no idea what you’re talking about, but I resent your accusation. Trust me, I’m nothing like Todd.”
She gripped her purse on her lap, looking at him with such a sorrowful, serious expression. “I know.”
“Know what?”
“Why you and Peyton broke up.”
Mitch pushed off his desk. “A breakup suggests we were actually a couple, which in hindsight might’ve been wishful thinking on my part.”
“Is that what you’re telling yourself now so you can walk away when she’ll need support more than ever?” She tapped Rosie on the ground indignantly.
“First of all, I didn’t walk away. She pushed me.” Warning bells caused his skin to prickle as he replayed her words. “What do you mean by ‘she’ll need support more than ever’? Please tell me what’s going on, because I’m in the dark.”
Claire grew quiet, her eyes narrowed as if she were watching for some sign. “Wait . . . Peyton broke up with you?”
“Yes. She called me Thursday afternoon and said she needed closure with Todd. She must have unresolved feelings for him.” As soon as he saw the horrified look on her face, he winced. “Sorry, I know he’s a touchy topic.”
Claire’s head shook almost imperceptibly, but he caught it.
“It’s not a touchy topic?” he asked.
“It’s touchy, but I’m sure Peyton doesn’t have feelings for Todd.” Her cheeks were turning red.
“Well, she refuses to say much about him to me. After Wednesday’s reading, she said that she felt like a hypocrite for refusing to let Todd apologize, considering the way you ultimately let her back into your life, so now she wants to try to ‘get closure’ with him.”
Claire stood, hand clapped to her forehead. “I never thought things could get messier, and yet here we are.” She looked at him. “I’m sure seeing Todd threw her, but trust me, her feelings for him are not the issue.”
For a tense moment, they stared at each other.
Without more information, he had no idea what to say. “We’re talking in circles. I’m still confused.”
Claire turned ghostly pale. “I’m sorry I jumped to conclusions. I should go and let you two work things out, however that happens.”
“Hang on!” He leaped from the desk before she reached the door. “You’ve got me worried now. Don’t leave without giving me some peace of mind. I care about Peyton. If you think I can help her, tell me how.”
She covered her face with her hands. “Oh, Mitch, I thought . . . but I shouldn’t have assumed . . . and now . . . her privacy . . . It’s not my news to tell . . .”
His heart was racing in his chest.
“Call her and make her talk to you.” Claire touched his arm.
He shook his head. “I have to respect her request for space.”
“She’s stubborn, but she cares about you. Don’t give up.” Claire wrung her hands. “I’m sorry I interfered and got you worked up. It was so out of line.”
And then everything came together in a crystal-clear epiphany. “Is she sick?”
Claire’s face crumpled.
“Claire!” The word came out rougher than he meant it to.
She hung her head and kept her gaze on the ground. “She had an appointment yesterday . . . There’s a new lump, but it might not be anything serious. She won’t know for a week.”
The floor fell out from under him, so he sank onto a chair. “Jesus.”
“I’m sorry I don’t know more. Logan and I only found out this morning. Logan looked so lost. I got so upset. I let the past lead me to assume you ended things once you found out. I’m so sorry.”
He bent forward, forcing air into his lungs. Peyton, his father . . . Why did this keep happening? “She doesn’t want me to know.”
Claire covered her face with her hands. “I should’ve minded my own business. This was a huge mistake.”
“Why did you come?” He stood and held her gaze once she lowered her hands. “I mean, from what Peyton’s described, your friendship is based more on mutual love for Logan than anything else at this point, yet when you arrived, you seemed angry on her behalf.”
“However our reconciliation began, she’s going to be my sister-in-law and, with some luck, will be in Logan’s and my life for years to come. I loved her for many more years than I hated her, and I know she regrets what she did . . . and not only because Todd wasn’t worth it. I want her to be happy, and she seemed happy at the party last weekend.” She sighed.
With some luck, she’d said. He couldn’t wrap his head around this news or how Peyton must be feeling today.
“She’ll kill me for telling you, and I can’t blame her.” Claire resumed her pacing. “Logan will be furious, too.”
Mitch patted her shoulder. “I won’t mention your visit.”
“But I won’t keep secrets from Logan. Hopefully, they’ll forgive me because I meant well. But you know what they say about good intentions and the road to . . .” She pointed to the floor and fell silent while her gaze grew unfocused. “What will you do now?”
He ran his hands through his hair. “If I ask her about this before she’s ready, it could be the absolute end for us.”
“There’s only one absolute end for any of us.” She smoothed her hand along Rosie’s ivory handle. “I can’t tell you what to do—and my being here proves I don’t always make the right choices—but last time, Peyton kept everyone at arm’s length. I suspect she pushed you away now to protect you from having to go through it all with her.”
Claire shouldn’t be making more assumptions, but something about this one made inherent sense to him, especially considering some of his and Peyton’s conversations in Europe. The one thing he now knew with certainty was that he wouldn’t learn the answers sitting here in his office.
He glanced at his watch, then pulled out his phone to search for flights to Chicago.
“What are you doing?” Claire asked.
“Booking a flight to Chicago.” He spared her a glance. “Want to come?”
“Oh, I don’t think that’s a good idea.” She shook her head, eyes wide. “I hate to fly. Plus, I’m a little afraid to face Peyton and Logan so soon after what I’ve done.”
“I detest flying, too, so we can commiserate. And no matter how mad Peyton might get, some part of her will be thrilled that you cared enough to confront me. Logan might be surprised, but I suspect he could use your support. He must be beside himself about his sister.”
Claire bit her lip. “That’s true.”
“Should I book two tickets?” His thumbs hovered over the keyboard.
She grimaced before nodding. “Okay. I’ll go throw a bag together and meet you at the airport.”
“LaGuardia, four o’clock, nonstop flight on United. If all goes well, we could make it to the bookstore before the event begins.”
“I’ll see you at the gate.” Claire stood, hesitating, her cheeks a bit flushed. “I’m glad that I was wrong about you.”
“And I’m glad you were angry enough to let me know what’s going on.”
After she gave him her legal name, birthdate, and contact information and left his office, he finished booking the tickets and then zipped over to his apartment before grabbing an Uber to LaGuardia. On his way to the airport, he called his mother.
“Hi, Mitch.”
“Mom, I’m sorry for the last-minute cancellation, but I can’t make it to Uncle George’s tomorrow. I’m on my way to the airpo
rt.”
“Where are you going?”
“I need to go to Chicago.”
“I thought you weren’t doing that part of the book tour.”
“I wasn’t, but my plans changed.”
“Is Peyton forcing you to go?” Her voice sounded hard.
“No, but I found out she got potential bad news from her doctor. I know you don’t approve, but I need her to know that I’m here for her if she wants my support.”
His mom didn’t speak for a few seconds. “Well, then, I hope she appreciates you. And of course I hope that the news isn’t as bad as you fear.”
“Thank you.” It wasn’t a lot, but for his mother, that was progress. “I promise I’ll take you to see Uncle George next weekend. Please send him my apologies, okay?”
“Call me later so I know you’re okay. I’ll call George and reschedule.”
“Thanks, Mom.” He tucked his phone away as the driver pulled up to the departures curb. The flurry of activity in the security line allowed him not to think too much about the lump in Peyton’s breast until he found himself sitting alone at the gate.
Early as always, much like the first time he’d met Peyton in person. Since that day, he’d listened countless times to her describe the agony of waiting. He remembered that feeling from the past, but this felt different. He was no longer a frightened boy. He was a man with the strength to stand by her without crumbling. For him, the immediate concern was wondering how she’d react to seeing him again.
Peyton returned from the restroom without being accosted by an ex, so that was an improvement over her last event. She sat at the book-signing table beside her brother, sipped from her water glass, and then elbowed Logan. “You’re pretty subdued tonight.”
“Sorry.” He straightened up and smiled at her, but she saw through the ruse to the pity and panic she’d wanted to avoid.
“Me too. I knew I shouldn’t have said anything to you about the appointment, but now I need a promise from you.”
“Anything.” He leaned closer.
“If the worst case is true, don’t you dare change one bit of your wedding plans or anything else. I mean it. I took too much from you last time. This time, I’ll manage on my own. It won’t be as hard, because now I know what to expect.” Although that almost made it worse.
