“And what is that?”

“I don’t have a clue. But there are people who deserve to hear from me. Too many loose ends dangling. Helen. Jamie. My job.”

Maggie nodded. “This place is here for you whenever you need it. You’re family, and we love the hell out of you, or whatever.” Maggie’s cheeks dusted pink.

She was a sweetheart, and it was easy to see why Courtney loved her so damn much. Watching them together recently in the kitchen of the big house when they thought no one was looking had melted herheart. The soft stares, the casual touches, even a stolen kiss against the cabinet. As it should be, she’d told herself, leaving them their privacy. She met Maggie’s eyes. “I love you both just as much. Come see me in New York? Let me take you to a baseball game. I hear Carrington’s has a fancy box.”

“Never heard of them.” They shared a laugh. “As long as there are beer and hotdogs, I’m in.”

“You’re a good friend, Maggie.” She looked behind her. “I better pack.”

She was going to miss the little town of Tanner Peak, but she was taking a little nugget of what it had taught her along the way: Life is about the simple things. Those are the ones that count. A deep lungful of air. Good food. Laughter. Space to think. But the most important thing of all? The people you love in this world. Everything else, the details, the chaos, the noise? At the end of the day, none of it mattered.

As her plane touched down in New York City just after ten p.m., Leighton was tired yet determined. She didn’t quite know how to fix her life, her heart, but she was getting there. As she made her way toward baggage claim, she saw a man with two others surrounding him as his photo was taken. What pop star had she stumbled upon this time? LaGuardia certainly had its fill of them passing through daily. As she approached, she stole a quick glance that made her veins run with ice. Logan Morrow, right there in the flesh. She’d heard a piece of news about him holding up a vote that was garnering him a bit of attention, but she’d purposefully scrolled right past the details. Maybe that was why the press were cornering him in an airport late at night. She gave her head a shake and kept walking…until she turned back and walked straight over to him.

“Hi, there,” she said, offering him a tight smile. “We’ve never met before, but I couldn’t pass up the chance.” His hair had gone entirely gray over the past year or so. He looked tired but brightened when he heard her words, likely grateful for the reprieve from the reporters’ rapid-fire questions. One of them was clearly rolling video on his phone.

“Hi, there. I’m Logan. It’s a pleasure. I appreciate your support,” he said and extended his hand.

She gave it a squeeze. “I know. We have the same last name. I’m Leighton. Your daughter.” His handshake went still, and he slowly withdrew the hand altogether. “I’d say I appreciated your support aswell, but I think you stopped writing child support checks when I was two.” She added a laugh. “Probably because they were traceable, and you were trying to keep your reputation clean for your career.”

“Leighton,” he repeated. God, his brain had to have been working overtime to figure out how to handle this one. He must have been spinning out of control. She drank in every blissful minute of it. “I don’t know what you’re—”

“Oh,youknowme. Not personally. Because you weren’t there for even a second of my childhood, but you certainly knowofme, right?”

“You know, if you get in touch with my office, maybe we can set up a time to sort out some of your concerns. Unfortunately, I have an engagement that I’m trying to make.”

“This late? Wow. Well”—she gestured to the walkway ahead of them—“don’t let me keep you. It’s already been a whole ninety seconds you’ve devoted to my life. Can’t bother you with any more.”

He nodded and turned, looking queasy.

Two of the three reporters followed him, while one hung back with her. “Are you saying you’re the congressman’s illegitimate child? How do you feel about that?”

“I am. And no comment. At least not for now,” she said loud enough, knowing Logan was likely still in earshot. Why not make him a little extra nervous? If his delaying a vote pulled in a lot of press, this should garner even more. Especially if the media verified her story, which shouldn’t be all that hard to do.

After a good night’s sleep in her own bed, Leighton woke up with a newfound sense of purpose. She’d conquered one of her greatest fears the night before. She’d confronted her father and spoken her truth, and never felt more in control of her own life. Now, the pieces of her path, the one she was always meant to be on, were beginning to materialize in front of her, and an immense sense of calm settled. She had no idea what Jamie would say when she saw her. That was for Jamie to decide. For Leighton, it was about putting aside the past, the unimportant details, and focusing on one thing: the love gathered in her heart.

She dressed for the day and gave herself a good long look in the mirror. After an empowering nod, she found her bag and headed off into the loud, busy streets of New York.

God, she treasured this city.

Chapter Twenty-four

“I’m thinking I want…” A long pause as Jamie’s new customer scanned the menu, which was odd because the line was out the door, and he had to have been standing in it for at least a short while, with plenty of time to peruse. “Hmm, what do I want?” He tap, tap, tapped his upper lip.

“Leo, over there, makes a fantastic cappuccino,” Jamie offered, hoping to usher him along. The woman behind him—Jazz Hands, because she did them once—shifted her weight. “We also have cold brew you’ll write home about if you’re in the mood for something cold.”

“Tell you what. Give me a large iced latte with two pumps of brown sugar, one of vanilla, cinnamon powder on top, and one Splenda. Oh, and with almond milk.”

Jamie nodded and wrote up the really interesting drink. Not that anything fazed her anymore.

She rang up one customer, then the next, followed by another, all the while noting that the line remained virtually unchanged. While she lamented not getting ahead of the demand, she also remembered Leighton stressing the importance of revenue, over lunch one day, making several valid points and showing off her very savvy business brain. The line stood for revenue, plain and simple. But now she was thinking about Leighton again, about her kind eyes and quick but quiet wit. Her heart tugged unpleasantly. She missed her so much it ached. There was even a woman two back in line who reminded her of Leighton. All signs seemed to point to—Hold up. She looked more closely, craned her neck. Same height. Though she could only see asmall portion of the side of the woman’s face, she knew that hair, those hands.

Her heart thudded as she served the next two customers. Jazz Hands ordered her usual skinny mocha, and the new customer behind just wanted a bag of doughnuts for his walk, which led her to the next very important customer, who looked so beautiful it hurt. Leighton stood there in jeans and a soft blue T-shirt. Her hair was down and fell across her forehead just shy of her eye. “Bambi’s Mother.”

Leighton relaxed into a lazy grin. They stared at each other for a good couple of seconds. “Never gonna lose that one, am I?”

“I don’t think so. It would be wrong.” Jamie popped a cup into her hand, her gaze never moving from Leighton, a sight for sore eyes. “What can I get you?”