WESTON
The captain’s voice comes over the intercom. “We’ll be landing in fifteen minutes, Mr. Bennett. There’s some heavy rain, but it’s starting to ease off a little down there. You should be back home in Snowflake Falls before nightfall if the roads are clear.”
I buckle my seatbelt. Patch is curled up on the seat next to me, his eye half-open. I didn’t want to leave him on his own in the house, so I brought him with me. I could have asked an assistant to stay with him, but I wanted him to feel like I had his back.
I signed the deal like a machine, forcing a smile for the cameras. This morning, some idiot had leaked the wrong details to a bunch of news outlets, so I arrived in San Francisco to gossip that I was buying Ramie Blentock’s business. We made a joint statement that he was buying the remaining portion of my company.
I couldn’t wait to get out of there. On the flight back, I drafted the press release for my new foundation. But my thoughts kept returning to Savannah. I was so sure she enjoyed our night together. My hands reached instinctively for her when I woke, but she was gone. Her side of the bed was cold. Why did sheleave? I called the cleaning agency where she worked to try and get her number, but there was no answer.
The raindrops race each other down the small window beside my seat. The captain’s voice announces our final descent into the small airport. The wheels touch the runway with a gentle bump. I disembark and make my way to the waiting car that will take me home, Patch grumbling in his cat carrier.
When we finally pull up at my house, I carry Patch inside. Once he’s been fed, he stretches and walks to sit on the stairs. He starts his long, drawn-out washing routine. My phone beeps and I grab it, hoping it’s Savannah, even though she doesn’t have my number. It’s my assistant.
Mr. Bennett, we found the address you asked for. It’s 43 Roseberry Avenue, on the outskirts of town.
I stare at the message, my thumb hovering over the screen. Savannah’s address. Why did she leave without saying anything? Was it just a one-night thing for her? Did I misread everything between us?
Patch’s soft purring from the stairs snaps me out of my thoughts. I shove my phone into my pocket and make my way to the kitchen. It’s warm inside, but it feels off somehow. Empty. I pour myself a glass of water, trying to steady my swirling head.
Savannah.
I haven’t been able to stop thinking about her. The way she laughed, her soft skin, her moans as I plunged inside her. Her commitment to her business. She wasn’t impressed by the house or the private jet, and she was far more likely to tease me than try to impress me. For once, I felt like I was with someone who saw me—not the company, not the money—just me.
But no note, no goodbye, nothing. Was it just a situationship for her? Nothing more?
I lean against the counter, staring into the glass of water as if it holds the answers. Finally, I pull out my phone again, my thumb brushing over the message. Grabbing my keys, I head back out into the cool evening air.
The drive to Roseberry Avenue takes ten minutes. The rain has slowed to a drizzle, and the wipers move rhythmically across the windshield. When I finally spot the address, my heart pounds in my chest. The house is small, with ivy creeping up one side, and there’s a light in the front window. I sit there for a moment, pacing myself. I need to get this right.
I take a deep breath and step out of the car, pulling my jacket tighter against the cold. My shoes crunch on the gravel as I walk up the path. Standing in front of the door, I raise my hand to knock, but the door opens.
Savannah stands there, eyes wide in surprise, her hair pulled back into a messy bun. She’s wearing a sweatshirt and jeans, but to me, she looks radiant. For a moment, neither of us says anything. The silence stretches out as we stare at each other.
Finally, she breaks it. “Weston… what are you doing here?”
I swallow hard, trying to find the right words. “I wanted to see you. Why did you go?”
Her eyes flicker. She steps back, opening the door wider. “Come in. I’m sure the neighbors are already talking about your fancy car. Grandma’s at her bingo night.”
I follow her inside. It smells faintly of herbs and something cooking in the oven. She motions for me to sit on the couch.
Savannah sits across from me, her hands fidgeting in her lap. “I didn’t expect you to come here.”
“I didn’t expect to be here,” I admit. “But you left so suddenly. I thought we had something.”
She bites her lip, her gaze dropping to the floor. “We did. At least, I thought so too. But then I saw you were signing that business deal, leaving Snowflake Falls. And I panicked.”
I frown. “You’ve seen the news? I sold my company. I’m staying right here.”
She nods. “But you’re still you. And I’m still me.”
“What do you mean?”
Savannah sighs. “You’reWeston Frickin’ Bennett. You’re successful, powerful, and you have everything figured out. I’m… I’m just me. A cleaning lady trying to make ends meet. I don’t want to get in too deep, only to end up hurt.”
I blink, taken aback. “Is that what you think? That I would hurt you?”
“It’s not only about you hurting me,” she says softly. “It’s about me not fitting into your world.”
