You able to come out for a debriefing off the books tomorrow? I can send a driver around?
My chest squeezes tight; I can’t breathe. My fingers hover over the phone, desperate to ask about Maverick.
But no, I can’t.
Then, another text comes through.
Josie would love to see you again, too.
I can’t say no to that.
Night falls, and I snuggle under the flannel beneath a fluffy blanket, putting the finishing touches on a crochet fox.
Music plays softly in the background.
Not mine. No performances. No pressure.
I almost don’t know what to do with myself.
But I do know one thing. The thing I whisper to myself in the cozy quiet of my new space.
“I’m still here.”
Chapter
Twenty-Two
MIA
Morning starts with a breve latte to-go from the on-site restaurant, greeting other residents as I pass. I sip the creamy drink, walking toward Mrs. Everley’s office. Despite the early hour, the summer day already promises to boil.
I wear a pair of light-washed Ariats and a white tank top with beige embroidered cowboy boots. A long silver circle and turquoise necklace hangs low, echoing the scar-bound tattoo—and its owner—that I can’t get off my mind.
One week in Texas, and I’m already going Western. It’s the least remarkable of the changes I’ve experienced here, though.
I check in with the administrative assistant and wait. He raps softly on the door, and I hear Mrs. Everley’s voice. “Come in.”
The blinds are drawn, tranquil music playing. Incense burns on her desk, a smoky sweetness edged with patchouli, and a small water feature in the corner babbles like a brook.
I didn’t notice these things the day I arrived. Can’t figure out how I missed them, now. But my mind raced, my heart broken. And I couldn’t see past my own problems.
“Ms. Lowell, you look like you fit in now,” she says, standing to shake hands.
I settle in the chair across from her with a shrug. “I could maybe get used to this place. Beautiful skies, a lonesome prairie, rugged mountains.”
“Cute cowboys,” she says with a giggle that catches me completely by surprise.
“Well, if you say so.” Though I play it cool, one man haunts my mind.
“Don’t suppose you’re here to talk about that,” she says, mouth firming. “More like an update?”
My throat tightens, chest heavy.
“Do you want the good or bad news first?”
“Good.” My voice comes out firmer than before.
“I touched base with the legal team earlier, and Crowe’s authority remains paused, though not revoked.”
