Page 103 of Meant to Be
Sydney put on her sweater and headed out the front door. She had a lot of thinking to do.
As she was leaving, she checked her phone. No messages from Mitch.
Mitch hadn’t realizedhow much money Lexie had married into until that morning when he’d boarded a private plane at the tiny county airport and flown to New York. The contrast between the green rolling hills of Virginia to the landscape of buildings in New York City took his breath away.
A car with a driver named Carl who looked more like a small-town doctor with gray hair, a white handlebar moustache, and a twinkle in his blue eyes, waited as Mitch exited the plane. It was strange to be waited on, but since he knew nothing about getting around New York, he was happy to have the ride.
Sitting in the back of the sleek black car, Mitch understood the attraction of the Big Apple. The energy, colors, lights, and noise. There was so much to do. It would take years to do it all. Still, he knew himself well enough to know he was a country boy at heart. It made him think of Sydney. Would she be able to live in Charlotte Tavern beyond her sabbatical? Drake seemed to like small-town living, although he traveled to New York at least once a month.
Mitch shook his head. Why the hell was he thinking about Sydney living in Charlotte Tavern? Their moment had passed. He’d blown it by letting his fear and mistrust get the best of him. She wasn’t interested in a life with him. After all, he was broken. And yet, why else was he in New York? He told himself it was to apologize and protect her, but he didn’t have to dig very deep in his psyche to know he wanted another chance at love with her.
The car pulled up to the address Mitch had given his driver. He’d expected a building with a doorman, but this looked like a townhome, albeit a large, expensive one. Mitch took a deep breath and then rapped on the front door of the Prestons’ home.
A stiff-faced man in a dark suit opened the door.
“Is Sydney here?”
The man took in Mitch’s worn jeans and black T-shirt and rightfully assumed Mitch didn’t fit.
“Do you have an appointment?”
“I’m with the Charlotte Tavern Police.” Mitch held up his badge and hoped the butler didn’t make a call. If he did, Mitch probably would be forced to return the badge to his boss.
“You’re out of your jurisdiction.”
“Shall I call Detective Fletcher and get his crew of cops down here?” Mitch made a show of looking at the other houses along the street. Many prominent people had to live here. Just like in Charlotte Tavern, having the police outside your home caused talk. “I’m sure the neighbors will enjoy the show.”
The butler sniffed, as if Mitch had forgotten to shower, but he opened the door and let him in. “You can wait in here.”
Mitch entered a darkened room that reminded him of a museum. It seemed like forever before the butler returned.
“Mr. and Mrs. Preston will be with you shortly.”
“I want to see—”
But the butler had already left the room. Mitch shrugged. If he had to get through the parents to see Sydney, he’d do it.
“Mr. McKenna.”
He wanted to tell them to call him detective, but that was petty. Besides, the butler was right. On this visit, he was mister, not detective, because he had no authority in New York.
“Mr. and Mrs. Preston. I was hoping to see Sydney.”
“I’m sorry. She’s not in.”
Mitch waited a beat for Mrs. Preston to tell him more, but she simply stared at him.
He put his hands on his hips. “Can you tell me where she is?”
“I can assure you, she is safe.”
His jaw clenched. “Good to know, but I really need to talk to her.”
“You served in Iraq?”
Mitch’s mouth opened and then snapped shut, not sure how to respond to Sydney’s father. “Yes, sir.”
“It looks like you were injured.” Mr. Preston motioned to his face.
