Page 123 of Happily Never After

Her phone vibrated, clattering on the wood. Brad was calling again. Luke’s eyes lowered, hardened a bit at the corners when he saw the screen.

Claire picked up her phone and threw it over her shoulder. Something smacked against the vinyl siding of the house and clattered onto the cement. For once, she didn’t care if it was broken. Eat a dick, Brad.

She bit her lip and continued. “That part did suck. But I think your leaving actually helped me. Maybe.”

He tore his eyes away from the possibly destroyed phone and raised his eyebrows. He looked different—lighter, almost amused. “What do you mean?”

Jeff’s violin sang in the background. The Edison bulbs swayed in the breeze. She shivered and crossed her arms over her chest. The thoughts she had scribbled on flash cards were evading her. Ugh, feelings.

“You get a whole new perspective when you hit rock bottom.” She avoided his gaze, preferring instead to talk to a crack in theconcrete. “I finally listened to Dr. Goulding and started anti-anxiety meds. And benzos for the sleepwalking. I can’t really tell if they’re helping yet, but it’s a start. I worked through some feelings with Charlie. We should really go to Bash Bar together sometime, by the way. It’ll do wonders for your stress. And then I called in a serious favor from Sawyer. It’ll give us both some peace and let me figure out how to start over.”

She squared her shoulders.

Luke’s calloused hand closed over hers. “You don’t have to start over.”

She met his eyes. They were soft.

“Does this mean you’ll come home?” Her voice was barely more than a whisper.

“My bag was already in the trunk.” He stood and picked her up before she knew what was happening.

Her heart stuttered, and her cheeks burned. It was like being held by lightning. “What about your party?”

“Screw the party.” He lifted her into the air and twirled her. Her cocktail dress got caught in the wake, spinning around her in a velvety cloud of red. She raised her arms to the sky. The stars blurred overhead like their magical evening in Paris. Violin music bled into the night.

He lowered her, slowly, deliciously until she was pressed against his chest. They simply looked at each other for a moment, locked in a tangle of arms. Finally, for the first time since her abduction, she was home.

CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN

To Do:

- Welcome papers for Darius and Nick

- Triple check Heather’s criminal background

- Check in with Gloria and Sam

Vibrations from Claire’sphone rattled the spoon in her empty cereal bowl. The morning sun slanted through the window, revealing every speck of dust she had missed during yesterday’s cleaning binge. She glanced at the screen. Brad again. Not today, Satan. Five days separated him from the big proposal. He must have finally realized it was all too much for one person. Good.

She shoved her phone across the table and went back to the binder in front of her. Quotes from West Haven caterers were neatly encased in sheet protectors. Now that Luke wasn’t imminently throwing her out on her butt, it was time to buckle down on the planning for his premiere.

“You sure you don’t want to get that?” Luke glanced over his steaming cup of coffee. The microwave beeped, and he stood up.

Rosie sighed under the table. Even she knew it was a bad idea. Winston briefly lifted his head, then set it back on Claire’s lap.

She stroked him behind the ears. “Why would I want to talk to the client who ruthlessly fired me? Besides, I’m busy planning your screening.”

A steaming bowl of chili hit the table with athunk. Cumin and cilantro overwhelmed her nostrils.

“You’re having chili for breakfast?”

“Yeah, I never got to have any last night. Anyway, it’s okay if you want to answer it. The proposal is what, five days out? He’s probably desperate.”

In spite of the potential Brad drama, the bowl drew her eyes. Would he be able to tell it was his dad’s recipe?

He put a steaming spoonful in his mouth, chewed for a second, and cocked his head to the side. “Hang on. Is this…?”

Claire nodded. A smile crept over her face.

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