Page 40 of Losing Hope

Chapter Fifteen

It had been two days,and Hope hadn’t heard a peep from Gage. She had texted multiple times, called, and left two voicemail messages. She had even gone as far as having her driver take her to his address in the village, only to have him bring her back home without getting out of thecar.

Her father was out of town on business in Miami until the following day, so asking him any questions, at least in person, wasn’t possible until then. Discussing her mother’s death, and trying to determine how it was connected to Gage, was definitely something that had to be done in person.

In the meantime, she worked from her apartment instead of going into the office. She’d been wearing the same pajamas she crawled into when she arrived home on Tuesday and couldn’t remember the last time she’d brushed her teeth. Her eyes felt permanently swollen from the random bouts of tears she would break into every time she thought of Gage. And there was always an open bottle of red wine sitting on her counter, keeping the glass that never seemed to leave her handfull.

She missed him. Her body physically ached to feel his touch and hear his voice again. She didn’t even have a picture of him because he was the one who always had the camera. So, instead, she’d spent hours browsing his photography website and, of course, doing Google searches to find any information she could on him. And why wasn’t he on Facebook? Wasn’t everybody and their goddamn mother on Facebook thesedays?

She’d watched For Love of the Game at least four times and tried to remember the parts Gage laughed at, or poked fun at her for tearing up at, and every single time, she ended up in tears. She was torturing herself, but she was at a loss. She’d been with him only four days, but the emptiness she felt was in a spectrum completely different to what she felt when she broke up with Dylan. Love really didsuck.

Her phone rang, causing her to practically jump out of her skin. It was after seven in the evening, so she knew it couldn’t be work. Was he finally reaching out to her? She jumped up from the couch, red wine sloshing out of her glass as she did, and ran to the counter where her phone sat. Swiping it off the counter to look at the caller ID, her heart sank and then instantly started beating furiously. It was her father.

Using her finger, she selected the green accept button and put the phone to her ear, her voice cracking as she answered. “Daddy?”

“Hope?” Alarm was immediately evident in his tone. “What’s wrong, dear?”

“Are you still coming home tomorrow?” She sniffled and then inhaled deeply to try and calm herself.

“Yes, I should be back in the city around seven. What’s wrong, darling?” She could hear him shifting papers in the back ground. He was always working.

“I need to talk to you about Mommy.”

“What about your mother?” The movement on the other end of the phone quieted.

“About how she died. We’ve never really talked about it, and I have some questions.”

There as a long pause before she heard a deep sigh come from the other end of the phone. “Why now, Hope? It’s been years since your mother passed.”

“Because now it matters. I’ve met someone, and when he found out who you are, who my father is, he said he couldn’t be with me. He said to ask you about how Mother died and then I would understand.”

“Hope, this doesn’t make any sense. What would your mother have to do with any boy you’ve met?” Annoyance was starting to lace the very edges of his voice, a warning to her that she was moving into uncomfortable territory forhim.

“I don’t know, Daddy. That’s why I want to talk to you.” She took a sip of her wine and continued. “Can we meet for dinner tomorrow when you’re back? You can come here if you’dlike.”

“No, come to the house. I’ll have Meg prepare something for us. Is seven-thirty all right with you?” Meghan was his live-in housekeeper and catered to his everyneed.

“Of course. Thank you, Daddy.” She blinked away the tears that were pricking at her eyes, yet again, this time in relief that she might actually get some answers.

“You don’t have to thank me, my dearest. I’ll see you tomorrow.” She could hear him walking somewhere now and knew he must be on his way to dinner.

“See you then. Love you, Dad.” She was about to end the call when she heard his voice again.

“Hope, what’s the boy’s name? The one who told you to ask about your mother.”

She laughed lightly at his use of the word boy. “Daddy, I’m not a little girl anymore, so you should probably stop referring to the men I date asboys.”

“Well, you’ll always be a little girl in my eyes, so you’re just going to have todeal.”

She could hear the smile in his voice, and for the first time in days, a small smile formed on her lips. “His name is Gage. Gage Flynn. He’s originally from Pennsylvania.”

“Did you say Flynn?” he questioned, a new sense of urgency present.

“Yes, do you know him?” Her brow furrowed as she tried to figure out how in the world they could possibly know each other.

“No.” His reply was instant and curt. “I’ve got to go. I’ll see you tomorrow. Love you.” And then silence.

She turned to look at the phone and saw indeed that the call had ended. What in the ever-loving-hell was goingon?

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