Page 69 of The Inevitable Us

“We’d like to put in an offer,” he starts to say.

It’s a week later that they accept our offer, and another fifteen days of cash escrow, but after that, the little white house on Bluebell Street is ours.

Walkingoutofclass,I find a note on my windshield. The manilla envelope flutters in the wind. Thinking it might be a ticket from campus cops, I pull it off my windshield and open the envelope.

“I know who you are, Ms. Coleman. If you want to keep your quiet little life and for me not to go to the tabloids, I want $10,000 cash. Tomorrow, nine am. I’m sure Sawyer’s clients will be very interested to know that he’s sleeping with his client’s teenage daughter behind his back.”

It goes on to list a drop off point. It doesn’t matter…I don’t have $10,000 and the bodyguard bible is very clear—never pay anyone off for any reason because they’ll just come back for more money. My worry is for Sawyer. What if they really do tell?

We’ve had people try to get us to buy them off several times in my lifetime—a housekeeper stole Josie’s phone when we were little and tried to blackmail Dad to get it returned. Instead, all of her texts to her biological father were published, as was a video of Dad singing “Josie’s Lullabye” to her the day he wrote it.

There were videos of both Dad and Matthew Barlowe singing unreleased songs and private family photos. Instead, the moment she sold the pictures to the press, the police stepped in and the woman was arrested. “Never do wrong because someone else is doing wrong to you,” Dad had said at the time. It was a huge gamble..they could have released everything at once.

Looking down at the note, I put it back in the envelope and in the glove box. I know I should tell Sawyer, but this likely is all going away on its own, and he’s only going to get over protective over it. Ugh. I need to think.

Astackofbrownpackages from an online home store is waiting for me at the cottage. The bodyguards must have brought them from the main house and stacked them neatly by the cottage’s main door.

It’s all things for the new house. Things we need as soon as we move in, like blackout curtains for the bedroom (since Sawyer works nights sometimes) and new tea towels.

“Leave them there,” Sawyer says as I open the door and carry the first parcel inside with me. “I’ll go put them all in the truck to bring over to the house tomorrow.”

We closed on the house yesterday and are moving in tomorrow when we’re both off. It’s so exciting to have the keys to our home. Our forever home, Sawyer says.

Soon after he moves the boxes, Sawyer goes to work, shutting the office door for the first time in a while. He seems to be leaving it open more and more.

Opening an empty cardboard box, I tape it up and go to the linen closet and start to pack it up to move into the new house. We don’t have a great deal to move since most of the things in the cottage and the loft were furnished, and almost all of Sawyer’s things are still in storage.

While packing I think of the half dozen times something like that manila envelope on my windshield has happened in my family over the last twenty years. Not just the nanny, but my parents having to buy the rights to photos that were taken of us to keep them from being published, and Dad’s first manager who’d leaked the story of Josie’s true paternity to the press.

By the time I’m on my fourth box of carefully packed items I’ve come to a decision. I have to figure out how to tell Sawyer. While I don’t think this person will actually do anything, the mess makes me feel very unsettled. I’ll tell him as soon as he gets off of work tonight.

Chapter thirty-six

Sawyer

Pullingintothegarageof the new house I pop the trunk and unload the boxes. Walking into the laundry room from the garage, I find Rosalie putting the new curtains in to wash before she hangs them. Her forehead is creased, her body tense as she angrily shoves the curtains into the washer. I lean down to kiss her forehead. She was fine an hour ago when I left to go to the home supply store. “What’s up, Baby Girl?”

“Some old pictures of us are missing,” she starts, her arms wrapped around her body now.

I look around the room at the boxes. Only a few are left to unpack. “They are around here somewhere I’m sure. We’re moving, Rosalie.”

“They’re missing from a memo board. I’d hung it over my vanity in the cottage.”

“I’m sure it’ll pop up. Don’t worry about it for now,” I assure her. “Do your parents have a hard copy of them?”

Her body stiffens and she bites her lip. “That’s not the point, Sawyer. I think someone took them.”

I stare at her, my heart beating in my ears. “What, precisely, makes you think that?” She doesn’t answer, just looks to the side, biting that lip.

“Rosalie, eyes on me!” I bark out, glaring at her, waiting for her to talk. Whatever it is she’s not saying, it’s bad.

Teary eyes come to mine. “I found a note. OK?”

A chill runs through my veins. “What sort of note?”

She bites her lip and looks towards her purse. I don’t wait for her to get up. I go to her purse, and grab the manilla envelope that’s sticking out of the top.

“There are two notes here, Rosalie,” I bite out. She should have told me as soon as the first note came…

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