Page 20 of Embrace Me Forever

“She’s that good, I know,” Dr. Turner says.

“Could you tell me a bit about her? Any insight could help.”

A faint smile tugs at Dr. Turner’s lips. “Georgia-May is one of the most brilliant and kind people I’ve had the pleasure of working with. She was dedicated, always going the extra mile for her students and colleagues, and they loved her. Her research was groundbreaking. She’s going to be an asset wherever she goes.”

It’s a validation of Georgia-May’s character, though nothing I didn’t already expect. “Thank you, Dr. Turner. That’s very helpful.”

She studies me for a moment, then adds, “If she’s left, it’s for something better. You should be aware of that.”

As I wrap up our meeting, my mind races. Georgia-May’s new job. Maybe that’s where the puppet master behind her façade is hiding. But who was the man in the hoodie? Part of the same game, or another twist I didn’t see coming?

Back in my car, my phone buzzes. It’s Rob.

“Blake, what’s the update on Georgia-May?” he asks. So far, he’s only had Kylie, his assistant, call her to say they’re still testing the software, but her call went unanswered.

“She’s quit her job at the university, which coincides with her presentation to Hartley Marine. But here’s the odd part. A guy was on campus asking about her. Didn’t seem like he belonged. I’m not sure yet whose side he’s on.”

“Do you think it’s safe to bring her in for a second visit?”

“I’m not sure yet. We need to tread carefully.”

“Come back to HQ. I need you here,” Rob says.

“Of course,” I assent, though tempted to extend my stay. Reluctantly, I leave Denver behind, knowing that despite all my efforts, I’m no closer to finding her than when I started.

7

GEORGIA-MAY

“Are you happy to be home?” I ask Coco, holding her close.

She wiggles in my arms, her energy boundless despite everything she’s been through. “Yes!” she exclaims, throwing her tiny hands up. Then she flashes that smile that never fails to lift me up. “Love you,” she babbles, planting a small kiss on my cheek.

Those are words she knows well and says a lot, but after all that has happened in the past few weeks, I’m barely able to hold back my tears. She doesn’t need to see them, though. “I love you too, baby,” I reply, keeping my tone upbeat as I return her kiss.

While going through the surgery and treatment for the second time, I realize it wasn’t me supporting her. Coco was my guide, an angel in the midst of our ordeal. Sometimes, I almost think she held back her cries as if knowing when I was at my lowest point. Instead, she smiled, giving me the courage to face each day with grace.

“And what’s the first thing you want to do?” I ask, tickling her lightly. She giggles, but I don’t think she’s as ticklish as I am.

“Duck!” Coco responds, pointing at the rubber duck sitting in the tub, dry since the day I took her to the hospital.

“You want to have a bath?”

She bobs her head eagerly.

Despite the thirty grand vanishing like a puff of smoke on hospital stays, specialist care, and ongoing medication, I’m determined to give my daughter everything she needs for her upcoming therapy. She has to be the happy girl that she is, running, jumping, getting up to mischief.

“Are you ready?” I lower Coco into the tub, securing her in a bath seat to prevent her from slipping. The special waterproof cap provided by the hospital shields her incision site, letting her enjoy the bubbly water with her favorite toys. Her giggles fill the bathroom. It’s clear she has missed this.

“Daddy would be so proud of you.”

“Daddy!” she squeals, grabbing at the bubbles around her and tossing them into the air. She loves saying that, even without a cue, and I love hearing it. It’s as if Sebastian were just around the corner.

I laugh, masking the ache inside. Anne always says Coco is my absolute mini-me, but I can’t help seeing Sebastian in her. Especially in her smile.

Intriguingly, another figure slips into my thoughts. The possibility of returning to Hartley Marine sends my mind wandering back to Blake, an indulgence I’ve resisted due to the taxing days at the hospital. But how can I forget his otherworldly gray eyes or the way the corners of his eyes crinkled with his smile? Whoever holds his heart is one incredibly lucky woman.

What’s the harm in imagining, though? What if he were here, right now, helping me with Coco’s towels and clothes? Asking me what else I might need? A massage would be nice!

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