Page 54 of Making New Plans

And what the hell did she mean by my presence was the only way to get Chloe to show up? Did she know something I didn’t? Or worse, did she hear something on the small-town grapevine about last night?

I glanced down at Arwen who had taken the opportunity to place her front paws between my feet and lean on both my legs.

“Call me crazy, but I can’t let Chloe go to that dinner alone,” I told her, rubbing her silky head. She licked my pinkie and smiled up at me. “I’d take you with if I could, trust me.” We started walking again, me still talking to her like an eccentric. “Guess I’ll just have to channel my inner warrior, like in the stories I’ve been reading. Maybe I’ll read those books to you someday.”

Arwen yipped happily. We circled the town square a few more times before I could bear to give her back to Louis.

I was flirting with danger here. The danger of getting too attached. Of messing up all my plans. Of free-falling into the unknown.

I should be scared. I should be pulling the ripcord. But I wasn’t.

19

Chloe

Ominous music coming from my phone made me drop Hunter’s pillow like the guilty weirdo I was.

I’d been cleaning rooms all morning because the maid had called in sick again, and Hunter hadn’t put a Do Not Disturb sign on the door. And I was only doing my job. I wasn’t invading his privacy or anything.

Except I’d been studying every visible thing in his room. And maybe I’d sniffed a few shirts to see if they still held his essence from last night. Then his pillow with its gray bamboo pillowcase stitched with the initials H.W.E. had found its way into my hands.

Okay, fine, I was a creeper.

And of course, my mom had chosen that moment to call. I nearly fumbled my phone, trying to answer before it went to voicemail.

“Hi, Mom.”

“You sound tired.”

I grimaced and plopped down on Hunter’s bed. “I’m fine, Mom. What’s up?”

“Honestly, Chloe, you should get better sleep. Staying up to all hours of the night isn’t healthy or responsible. Especially if it’s for something frivolous.”

Suspicion swooped over me. What did she mean by that?

But before I could ask, she continued. “We’re having dinner tomorrow night, and I expect you to be there.”

I frowned. “Tomorrow’s Thursday.”

“Yes, I can read a calendar, Chloe. Your father and I are out of town this weekend, and we wanted to do dinner with a few special guests before we leave.”

“Why are you— Oh, right, the Bikes, Brews, and Bonfires festival.”

My mom never stuck around for this particular festival because my dad had accidentally gotten drunk one year and belted out bawdy drinking songs with a few other men. The Gazette had run a gleeful and very detailed story about it that week. She’d been so humiliated that she hadn’t shown her face around town until the week after.

My mom cleared her throat. “Yes, well, dinner will be at six. Dress nice.”

I desperately tried to flail off her hook. “Um, actually, I’m not sure I can make it tomorrow night. I had a few other plans lined up.” No need to tell her those plans were helping out Rose and Sarah. She wouldn’t think they were important enough to skip dinner.

“Chloe Miranda Higgins.”

Ah yes, the three words that had the ability to freeze the blood in my veins. My middle name had the extra fun quality of also being my mother’s first name. Yet another way she’d tried to force me to live up to her standards since birth. Whenever she pulled out my full name, it meant that no argument was to follow. Because nothing, not the end of the world or Oprah in cahoots with the Pope, could sway her. And she wasn’t done.

“I have been very understanding of you missing dinner last Sunday for lord knows what reason.”

I snort-laughed loudly in my head.

“But we have already made plans for this dinner and have guests coming who plan on you being there. Therefore, unless you wish to embarrass me and your father, you will come to this dinner. At six. And dressed nicely. Am I clear?”

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