Page 22 of Perfect Convergence

His hand falls to the table. “But—”

“No! Absolutely not. You know what you did, Adam. You don’t deserve me.” I roll my eyes at my mom’s and Mary Anne’s gasps. “I’m not confused, okay? I’m finally getting back to who I am. You just don’t like it because I’m not trying to be who you all want me to be. But guess what, Adam? I’m not your type. And you are definitely not mine.”

“Wren!” Mary Anne exclaims.

But I pay her little attention. Tossing my napkin on the table, I stand and grab my bag. “I’m done. None of you are here because you’re worried about me. You’re just trying to control me. Let me be who I am.”

Then I’m heading toward the door, making sure to avoid Williams, who’s also on his way out.

My mom calls after me.

I don’t even look back.

Once I’m outside, I round the building. If I cut through the alley next to the restaurant, I can get to my subway stop faster. All I care about right now is getting out of here.

The alleyway is icy, but I managed it just fine on the way here. I go slowly, not wanting to slip and fall.

Maybe I’m too focused on watching my steps. Or maybe my mind is reeling from that ridiculous intervention.

Whatever the reason, I don’t hear the footsteps behind me until it’s too late, and a hand reaches out and grabs my arm.

CHAPTER SEVEN

OLIVER

“WHAT THE HELL is Wren doing here? Oooh. She doesn’t look happy.” I peer through my binoculars, following Wren as she takes a few steps back—directly into our mark.

We’re in the building across from the Garden Grille, keeping a close eye on Williams. Once he makes a move to leave, Rhett and Elliot will leave and get a head start to cut him off on his road, which thankfully is pretty secluded. I’ll follow Williams from a distance so we know if he makes any pit stops before heading home for the night.

It’s supposed to be a smooth operation. Quick work. But I don’t think any of us expected Wren to show up at the Grille tonight.

I watch as a man advances toward Wren. He puts a hand on her back, and Wren slams her elbow into his gut.

I smile. Good girl.

Eventually, Wren stalks toward a table. There are a few people at it I don’t recognize, but one of them I definitely do.

“She’s... meeting Adam.”

“What?” Rhett snaps, and then he peers into the restaurant with his own binoculars. “Fuck. Who are the two couples? Parents?”

“Probably. Fuck, she doesn’t look happy at all.”

As I say it, Wren tries to leave, but the man who got up to meet her—her dad, maybe?—blocks her path.

“Son of a bitch,” Rhett grits out. He’s moving before the words are even out of his mouth, but Ell and I grab him.

“We can’t show our faces here,” Elliot reminds him. “We don’t intervene unless she actually needs us. This may be our only chance to get Williams, and I don’t want to fuck it up.”

Rhett’s grip on his binoculars tightens so much I think they might snap in two. But he stays put, his shoulders bunched up.

I let out a worried sigh. Williams is at his table, so I split my time between keeping an eye on him and watching Wren. Everyone at her table seems tense, and she looks like she might explode—or burst into tears.

“I don’t like how close she is to him,” Rhett murmurs after a few minutes.

“What’s worrying me is how much she’s leaning away from the other guy,” Elliot says. “Don’t like that one bit.”

We keep an eye on her while both tables order and get their food. At some point, Adam places his hand on Wren’s arm, and she flinches.

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