Page 77 of Savage Beauty

“Yes.”

“And he’s a good doctor? With a good rating?”

“Yes. One of the best cardiologists in the state. He’s been my doctor for years.”

My gaze rises skyward, and I breathe in and have to clean my nose again with the back of my hand. Life’s too short not to take risks. It’s a line from a romance book I once read, and it comes to me out of nowhere. “Then you should go for it.”

“Well, we’ll see. This is all so premature, but I’m telling you because you’re my sister and you’re my everything too, you know?”

“Max says that Knox is crazy about you. He told me he was going to stay in Asheville for you. I’m happy for you, Sage.” My voice cracks on her name, and it shouldn’t because she is happy. I’ve always wanted her to be healthy and happy.

“Max might stay there for you if you asked him.”

“No. Max doesn’t love me.” And dang it, the tears fall all over again. Snot fills my nose. I need tissues.

CHAPTER25

Max

My phone vibrates in my pocket. I ignore the blasted device and slam the trunk down. The hinges soften the slam, which only increases my desire to ram my fist into the car. Or the windshield. The side of the goddamn villa. Anywhere.

My phone vibrates again. I whip it out of my pocket, ready to explode on whoever is calling me yet again.I’ll call you fucking back, asshole. The words are right there, waiting to be unleashed on whatever unsuspecting prick is calling.

And it’s my mom.

I take a few breaths, stare at the ocean beyond the dunes, exhale deeply, and pick up. “Mom.”

“Max. Hey, honey. Did I catch you at a bad time?”

I swipe my hand over my forehead and lean back against the car, facing the villa. “Nah. It’s as good a time as any. What’s up?”

“Is something wrong, honey?”

“No, Mom. I’m sorry, I’m just… The project here is wrapping up. I’m preparing to head out.”

“Oh. So, you're heading back home? To Ginger?”

“To—No. I’m not headed back to her. How did you even know she’s at my house?”

“Well, she called me. She wanted to check to see how you were doing.”

“She called you?”

“Don’t be mad at her. She was worried about you. But you say you’re not going back for her?”

“No, Mom.”

“That’s good.” In the background I hear my dad say, “Riva, what’re you doing?”

“I’m not doing anything. I just…I think it’s best that he not get involved with someone going through a separation.”

My head falls back, and my gaze lifts to the sky.

Dad says to Mom, “Riva, don’t meddle.”

“I’m not meddling. He said he wasn’t going back to her, anyway. And I’m his mother. I’ll never stop worrying. Worrying differs from meddling.”

“You called him. He’s out of the country on a project.”

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