Page 87 of Making New Plans

There was a slight tremor in Chloe’s voice, and judging by Miranda’s triumphant smile, she heard it, too.

She half-turned and sent a parting shot over her shoulder. “Mark my words, Chloe Miranda Higgins, you’ll see this for the mistake it is soon enough. He’ll leave. You’ll be back to square one. Then you’ll come back under my wing. You always do.”

With that ominous prediction, she marched out.

The silence she left behind could’ve filled a tomb. Chloe didn’t even seem to breathe for several moments. Then her breath came in deep heaves. My heartbeat pounded in my skull, echoing in my numb mind. I wanted to reach for Chloe, but hurt and anger turned my arms to lead. There was only one thing left to do.

“We need to talk,” I told her.

32

Hunter

Chloe followed me upstairs to my room, and I shut the door behind us. She paced around my room, restless energy pouring off her like she was a caged animal. I understood the feeling, but my body was on lockdown. As if I could protect myself from whatever came next.

Chloe whipped around to face me, her expression twisted between fury and fear. “Are you leaving?”

When I didn’t immediately answer, trying to find the right words, she hurried on. “I know that was always the plan. That you have a life in Boston. But I thought maybe, just maybe, you’d started to reconsider. What with the cabin project and becoming owner and…and…”

Her lips wouldn’t form the word, and I couldn’t bring myself to confirm it. I looked away.

“Ah, I see,” she whispered.

My eyes snapped back to her. “No, you don’t,” I said roughly. “Because you don’t have the whole story.” I exhaled sharply. “My firm called me yesterday. The last job I did for a Boston client apparently went over really, really well, and they want me to be the lead designer on another project for them. A new skyscraper in downtown Boston. A ‘career-maker,’ my boss called it.”

She nodded slowly, as if absorbing the information. Then, finally, almost to herself, she said, “So you are leaving then.”

My shoulders slumped. I didn’t know what I’d been expecting. Her praise? Congratulations? Some clue as to how I should feel about it as well?

Miranda’s words hurtled through my mind again, and anger snapped back to the surface. “What would you rather me do? Turn it down and stay here? End up just like my parents, bitter and depressed?”

Chloe’s cheeks reddened. “If that’s really what you think would happen, then you should go. Sign the papers tomorrow, become the owner, leave, sell. Do what you want.”

“I don’t want to sell. You know that. If anything, taking this job will help ensure that I don’t need to sell the lodge to save up enough money for my own firm.”

I hadn’t actually made the decision yet. I’d wanted to talk to her about it, but not like this. My eyes traveled over her averted face. Those troubled blue eyes. That pink bottom lip tucked between her teeth. My gut loosened and told me to take the risk. To ask her if there was a way to have it all. The job, the lodge, each other.

But she spoke first, her eyes focused on one of my drawings taped to the wall. “I never should’ve let myself do this. Get involved with you.”

My eyes slammed shut as my chest threatened to cave in. There it was. The truth. She continued in the same dull voice. “My mother was right.”

I opened my eyes and gaped at her.

She wrapped her arms around herself, lifting her gaze to mine. “About me. About you leaving. I should’ve known better. That you wouldn’t pick me in the end.”

I took an involuntary step forward. “So you’re just giving up? You’re not even going to try to make it work?”

She let out a mirthless laugh. “I always make it work. I’m always the first to give in. And I’m tired of it. I’m tired of always coming up short.”

I raked both hands through my hair with a frustrated growl. “Damn it, Chloe, it’s not you. I have to do this job for myself. Can’t you see that?” I moved close enough to her to catch a whiff of her coffee and vanilla scent. “I’ll come back to help with the cabins. I’ll still be around. And you could come visit me in Boston.”

“It won’t work,” she insisted.

“You mean you think it’ll be another mistake? Like being with me was?”

She pursed her lips and looked away from me, her silence the answer I dreaded.

Suddenly, I couldn’t stop the destructive words that flew from my mouth. “That’s why you stepped away from me back in the office. You didn’t want your mother to see me touching you. Is that why you wouldn’t let me kiss you in public? Afraid of the gossips? Or why we couldn’t stay at your house? You didn’t even want your friends to know about us?”

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