Page 98 of Building What's Meant to Be

My leg cramps so I quietly slip out of the closet. The rain pounds against the window panes in the front of the office. I creep over to see if Puma’s car is still parked in the street below.

I imagine Puma thinks I know things about his trouble with the law and wants to keep me quiet. Now, would be a good time to have a bodyguard and a lawyer. I think about my family. I doubt they’d help me at this point. Not one of them has reached out to see how I’m doing.

Two dark figures dot the street below. Aiden stands taller than Puma and shoves him toward his car. Rain flies from his jacket as he points at the guy who scrambles to get into the vehicle and then speeds away.

I press my hands over my face. “What is going on?” I whisper.

Confusion and questions batter me as I slide to the floor and lean against the wall, head in my hands.

Footsteps approach and Aiden appears at the top of the stairs. “Tinsley, please come with me.” His tone sounds a lot like the agents dressed in black who woke me up from my diva dream.

That’s when the realization comes back. I knew I recognized his blue eyes.

“You were there when Puma was arrested. I thought I was crazy for thinking you were the Southern Agent.” No, I was crazy for ignoring my intuition. For falling so blindly for him.

Aiden’s shoulders droop like he’s the one caught breaking the law.

There should also be rules and regulations about breaking people’s hearts because if I’m right, Aiden should go back to jail. Only this time, I won’t be in the next cell, all starry-eyed and buying into his talk about how I’ll be the future Mrs. Mayor.

When I don’t move, he says, “We have to talk.”

Crossing the room feels like moving through cement. Like I’m pressing against the driving wind outside. It’s as if whatever drew us together before repels us with the power of a massive magnet.

We hurry across the street and return to the office. As usual, Brave is excited to see us, but I can’t match the enthusiasm. He plonks down on my feet when I drop into a wooden chair. Aiden sits stiffly at his desk.

“What can you tell me about Harold Jerrold Pumanowksi?” Aiden asks with a certain smugness—the kind reserved for “Suit Aiden”—and danger, which usually goes with biker Aiden. Right now, I’d prefer cowboy boots delightful Aiden.

“Is this an interrogation? If so, I already told the other agents everything I know, which is next to nothing. I’ll tell you the same thing I told them.” I clear my throat. “I vowed to swear under oath that I didn’t even know who the vice president is. But if they were to ask me who starred in the latest Casablanca remake as well as the original, I could give you names and birthdays. Though now I do know who the VP is.”

“This isn’t an interrogation, but why was Harold looking for you?” Aiden’s posture is fierce like he’s ready to tear the musician’s throat out and break his fingers, but his expression softens.

“Who? Puma? I don’t know. He’d been texting because he wanted to catch up. I thought maybe he wanted to apologize.”I go on, speculating and describing how the texts escalated the more I ignored them.

Aiden crosses his arms in front of his chest and huffs. “Sounds like Tinsley-splaining to me.”

If I had long nails still, they’d be digging into my palms. “Did Taylor use that term? That’s rich. What else did he tell you about me? In case you guys didn’t notice, which seems odd since the rest of the town seemed to, I’ve changed. But it turns out I didn’t know you at all.”

“I can explain.”

This time I huff and fold my arms in front of my chest. “Please do. From what I’ve seen, you’ve easily shifted between a maverick biker dude, easy-going in slacks and a button-down shirt but hiding a prank behind your smile, a businessman in a well-tailored suit, and a hardworking guy who wants to help his town. I don’t know who I’m getting when, and should’ve known better than to trust you. I was afraid the joke was on me. I was right.”

“Only partially right, Tinsley. I wasn’t pranking you. Far from it. Everything between us was real. Is real. But the truth is that I’m a federal agent. I’ve been on this case for a while. As I gathered intel, it grew and grew, going beyond a corrupt mayor in a small town all the way to the governor. There are some bad actors involved, and I’m only now putting the pieces together.”

“But I had nothing to do with it.”

Aiden gives a short nod. “I know.”

Something sticky yet slippery wells inside. “Then why didn’t you tell me?”

Aiden hesitates. He’s hard to read. Multidimensional, unlike a scripted character. I hardly knew him, at least not how I thought I did. Realization dawns like a fiery sun. The liquid turns lethal and then into flame. “Because you didn’t trust me.”

“No, that’s not it. Not exactly. I didn’t want to endanger you.”

“Have all the geese in Butterbury been parading around, knowing the truth while this little ugly duckling was in the dark?” My voice is shrill as the tears return. They’re dense like the rain beyond the windows.

Brave makes a doggy sigh as if he senses how upset I am.

“No, not even Officer Henley knew until after he released us from jail. And you are not an ugly duckling.”

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