Page 100 of Can't Fight the Moonlight

"No. There's a buffet out this morning. Probably way more food than we need."

He shrugged, then started to turn toward the dining room.

"Justin, wait. I have to apologize for something else," she said.

He gave her a wary look. "What did you do now?"

"Last night after you left, I spoke to your parents, and I kind of told them off."

"What did you say?"

"They started explaining to me how they weren't to blame and how you won't forgive them or talk to them, and I said that it was on them to make things right. That they needed to show you that they want you in their lives. It wasn't on you to fight for them; it was on them to fight for you. I suggested that they stalk you, text you, and stand outside your apartment in San Francisco until you opened the door."

He looked at her in astonishment. "What did they say?"

"Nothing." She licked her lips. "But they're in the dining room right now, and they told me they weren't leaving until they spoke to you. I know that I butted into your personal business again. I just couldn't stand hearing them excuse themselves, acting like they had done everything they could when in reality they've done next to nothing to heal their family. Anyway, now you know."

He gave her a long, thoughtful look. "I can't believe you said that to them."

"You know I talk too much," she said with a shrug. "And I meddle. And I'm pushy. All the things you pointed out last night."

For a split second, his gaze softened. "I was probably harsher than I needed to be."

"But you weren't wrong." As his gaze moved toward the doorway to the dining room, she said, "Are you going to give them a chance?"

He glanced back at her. "It seems almost unimaginable that I'm actually considering that. Do you think they deserve a second chance?"

"Only you can decide that."

"I don't really know why they've decided they want to change things now. It's too late."

"Is it?" she challenged.

"I don't need them in my life now."

"Maybe they need you."

"They never did before," he snapped back.

"I'm going to shut up now," she said.

For some reason, her words brought a reluctant smile to his face. "I doubt that will last long."

For a split second, she felt like they were back on solid ground again, but then his expression hardened, and the very first Justin she'd met—the cold, angry stranger—was facing her. She just didn't know if he'd put on the mask for her or because he was getting ready to speak to his parents.

"If you'd rather have breakfast in your room…" she began.

"No. I'm done running. I'm done hiding. They want to talk, we'll talk."

As he walked away, she let out a breath, thinking that conversation could go either way. But she wasn't going to get in the middle of it. She left the desk and moved into her office. Justin was taking care of his problems, and she needed to deal with hers. It was time for her to stop running away, too. She had to face the debt and figure out a plan.

She sat down, picked up her phone, and punched in a number before she could change her mind. When the woman answered, she said, "Hello, Paula, it's Lizzie Cole. I'd like to talk to you about your offer."

* * *

His parents were sitting in the dining room. They were completely alone. Apparently, the breakfast rush was over. His mother had a half-eaten grapefruit in front of her and was sipping her coffee. His father was finishing up the last of his French toast. The familiarity of the scene hit him like a truck, bringing all kinds of unwanted memories and emotions. In his dream, Sean had told him it was time to face his parents, to really look at them, and he was finally doing that.

They were older, he realized. His dad was thinner. His mom looked tired. They weren't talking. They just seemed sad.

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