“I think things got away from us today.”
“You think?”
“Yeah.”
But it doesn’t change anything.
“Look, I’m going back to my hotel,” I say. “I’ll tell your mom tonight that I can’t do this. I’ll take the blame.”
“Oh, she’ll put the blame where it’s due regardless of what you tell her.”
I can’t do anything about that.
I smile at the handsome man despite my irritation with his behavior. “Good luck to ya.”
Then I close the door, turn my car on, and back out of the driveway.
As my tires hit the gravel, my stomach twists into a tight knot.
I need to walk away from this whole thing.
I know that. Hell,I want that.
So why does it feel like a loss?
I shrug and press harder on the gas pedal.
Good luck to me, too.
CHAPTER 7
Chase
Mom standsas I walk in and shoots me a dirty look.
“What are you looking at me like that for?” I ask, the words coming out snippy.
“She better come back.”
I glance around the room as I barrel my way to the refrigerator.
Mom trails me across the kitchen. “Want to know why I’m looking at you like this? It’s because I’m excited to hear about your plan. You just ran off your help for the next four weeks, so I’d love to know how you plan on finding someone to cover for me. I leave on Monday morning, you know.”
Yeah, I know.
I wish it didn’t have to be this way—that I didn’t need to rely on people to make things work. And if Kennedy wasn’t freshly fourteen and had a greater sense of her own mortality, I might chance it. But she’s making emotional decisions, seems to think she’s immortal, and I’m waiting on the call that I’m back on the traveling crew again.I would never leave her overnight or fordays at a time. No fucking way. She’s never been alone one night, as a matter of fact.
I take the orange juice out of the refrigerator and pour myself a glass. I need something to do and drinking a glass of juice is the only thing I can do that I won’t regret later.
“I’ll figure something out,” I mumble.
“You better figure something out.”
“Where’s Kennedy?” I ask, not wanting to have this discussion in front of her.
“She went with your father down to the lake.”
The drink is sweet and smooth as it slides down my throat. But, unfortunately, it does nothing to help dissipate the heat and frustration inside me—frustration at myself more than anything.
