Page 45 of Second Chance Serenity

“Everything okay in here?” Jaxson questions, stepping into the kitchen. He leans against the doorjamb.

“Tell her she’s not going to Boston.”

“Boston?”

I pinch the bridge of my nose. “I host a charity banquet. The woman who helps me with most of the in-person arrangements cannot make it, therefore I cannot miss it. I won’t miss it.”

“You’re going to have to miss it this year.”

“Are you not listening?” I snap. “You don’t get to tell me what I will and will not do!”

“This is a mistake.” Michael turns away from me.

“You work for me, right? Isn’t that how this works?” I ask Jaxson.

Michael whirls on me. “Are you threatening to fire us if we don’t let you go risk your life?”

I cross my arms, heels dug in so far there’s no going back now. “I’m telling you that I’m going, I’m not asking for your permission.”

“You—”

“If you want my opinion,” Jaxson interrupts, and Michael turns toward him. “We can get with the security working the event and increase it with some of our own. You can remain glued to her side the entire time. That way, she can attend the event and stay safe doing so.”

“Absolutely not,” I snap. “Michael will not be coming.”

“Why not? Worried I’ll embarrass you?”

I glare at him. “Hardly. But you will cause distractions.”

“Distractions? Why is that?”

Because you’re too beautiful for your own good. Because I can’t stand the idea of standing next to you all night and not reaching out to take your hand in mine or wrapping my arms around you. “Because I’ll be working, and you can’t seem to keep yourself from getting under my skin. The last thing I need is you scaring away people I’m supposed to be talking to.”

“You’re not going alone.”

So we’ve gone from me not going to me not going alone. I suppose that’s progress. “Fine. But Jaxson can stay with me.”

“Afraid I’m best working active security from a vantage point,” my bodyguard replies. “I’m not much for crowds. Elijah will likely work monitors while Lance coordinates on the ground. Michael is our group’s bodyguard,” he says. “We made an exception for you given your past, but at an event like that, he’s who will be by your side. I can set my pride aside long enough to admit he’s better on the ground than I am.”

I look up at Michael, noting that he doesn’t appear to have taken any confidence from what Jaxson said. It’s merely fact, not arrogance, and I can appreciate that. “Fine. But you’re all going to need tuxedos. It’s black-tie.”

After Michael’s gone home and Jaxson is settled into my parent’s guest bedroom for the night, I head into my childhood room and take a seat on the edge of my bed. I really should have just gone home, but after thinking I’d lost my mom today, getting to wake up and have coffee with her in the morning is all too inviting.

My gaze drops to my feet. Just behind them, beneath my bed, is the box containing all of my memories of Michael throughout the years. Letters he’d pass me in class, love notes left in my locker, dried flowers from Valentine’s Day, the corsage from prom…it’s all in there.

As are the letters he wrote me.

Letters I’ve been avoiding opening for years, even more so since our confrontation in the gym.

“Did you not read any of my letters?”

“It wouldn’t have mattered if I did.”

“Yes, it would have.” He moves in closer, his expression tormented. “Because if you’d read them, you wouldn’t have thought for a second that my leaving had anything to do with you.”

Tears burn in the corners of my eyes, but I angrily wipe them away.

They’re just letters.

---