Page 119 of Love Me Steadfast
I want to tell him everything, but Charlotte gets to hear it first. “I’m not letting her walk out of my life again.”
He grunts. “How’s she feel about that?”
Baby steps.I sigh.
“I don’t want her to leave, either, but…she gets to decide,” Theo says. “She really wants that Seattle Symphony spot. She’s worked really hard.”
“I know.” I just need her to want us just as much. Last night was a start, wasn’t it? There’s room for every single one of our dreams inside the circle we’d create. Does she not see that? Does she think I’d make her choose?
“Have you talked to your dad recently?” I ask. Ray’s been like a ghost this past week.
“Not since he left for his cabin on the Middle Fork.”
“Know when he’ll be back?”
“When it snows?” he says with a laugh. “I think he plans on taking retirement pretty seriously.”
“As he should.” Though it means I’m on my own for digging up the answers Special Agent Ballard wants.
Theo saunters toward the stairs, coffee in hand. “Later.”
I rinse my coffee cup and set it in the dishwasher.
To stave off the low-grade headache that’s been building behind my eyes, I grab my swim gear and head to the community pool. An hour later, the headache has dialed back and my limbs buzz with a satisfying fatigue. In college, swimming became a kind of escape for me. Nobody knew me at the pool. I could just focus on the strokesand my breathing and let the pressure that came with leading a D1 football team melt away.
At The Limelight, I let myself into the front because we don’t open until five on Mondays and I feel like soaking up the ambiance of the empty club before I get stuck in that office. Little changes I’ve made are already evident. The now-clean windows have turned the light golden, and the row of brand-new pine booths to replace the mahogany ones Ray held onto from the dark ages look clean and sharp.
Though the hallway leading to the office is cast in shadow, the framed pictures give flashes of reflection as I pass. A young woman crooning into a microphone catches my eye. I stare at it while my pulse taps into my throat.
It’s Dagney Cole. The woman who just a week ago died of an overdose. The one Special Agent Ballard thinks is connected to his family friend’s disappearance, and maybe, somehow, to Morgan.
Something about this morning’s conversation with Charlotte isn’t sitting well with me.
Is she just anxious about speaking with an FBI agent?
The headache I left at the pool thickens inside my skull. I brace against the wall and force my breathing to steady, using the imagery the neuroplasticity specialist taught me to dial back the pressure, but I know it’s just a matter of time before I’ll be out of commission. Damn it. I have too much to do today. And Charlotte’s supposed to come help me with the booking software. And I want to cook for her again tonight. And just…be with her.
We’ve wasted so much time. I don’t want to waste a single second of what we have left, even if I haven’t figured out how to make it last.
I huff a full breath, puffing my cheeks, then flip through my keyring to the office deadbolt.
Only, when I lift the key to the lock, the door creaks open.
What the hell?
The doorplate’s busted. The light comingfrom the office window illuminates the wood fragments littering the ground from where the door gave way.
My pulse kicks into my throat. Using the toe of my work boot to push the door open further, I peer inside, my ears throbbing in the silence.
Mike closed the bar last night like usual. My office stays locked when I’m not here.
I dial his number.
“Hey boss,” he says. There’s music in the background and the hum of an engine, like he’s driving.
“Hey, did you double check my office door last night?” I ask.
“Sure did. Why?” His tone sharpens.
