“It’s me again, Spoon. I wanted to say … no one is too big or too powerful that they can’t be fought. Haven’t I proven that with Halston? The sad reality is that there are people out there who don’t have any power, who bad people target because they can. But you aren’t one of those people, Spoon. We grew up with a privilege that means we have a certain amount of cache too. We can find something on Nick. Is it playing dirty? Yes, but I don’t care if it means getting you out of there. You can come back to Scotland with me. Be the chef at the B and B. You’ll be safe there. No fear. No guilt. No shame. Not anything but safe. Please. Please, London. Talk to me.” I was careful not to remind her she was the only family I had left. Or make it about me. I didn’t want to be another person in her life emotionally manipulating her.
Because I was sure that’s what Nick was doing.
I was certain of it.
Striding into the coffee place around the corner from my hotel, my worries weighed down my steps. I could see Perri already at a table, tapping away on her phone while she waited for me.
TheNew York Chronicle’s building was in Midtown, and I’d arranged to meet Perri around the corner from it to catch up in person.
My friend, because I thought of her as a friend now, stood as soon as she saw me and enveloped me in a warm hug. I squeezed her, holding tight to the tears of gratitude that wanted to spill out all over her. We pulled away, and I gave her a watery smile instead.
She chuckled and gestured for me to sit. “Don’t look at me like that or my ego will get out of control.”
I laughed and sat across from her. “How are you?”
“Things have been a little crazy since the article. But more to the point, how are you? What brings you back to the city?”
I didn’t tell her my worries about London or that I missed my friend.
We chatted for a while. I told her my lawyer had called yesterday to tell me the case against Shawn Prescott was going to court and the court date would likely be set for some time next summer. We still didn’t have word on the case against Halston Cole because it was more complicated, but we’d hear from the presiding judge in the next few weeks whether it would go to court.
My lawyer had no doubt that it would.
“It’s a tough time ahead.”
“But worth it?” Perri asked.
“It’s worth it for me.”
“And for Ben’s family,” she reminded me. Ben’s family didn’t have the evidence to prove Ben’s death had been ordered by Cole, so their only hope was that he’d pay for what he’d done to my family and to the islanders he’d regarded as a nuisance he could plow through.
Perri asked about my B and B and promised to book a vacation to come and see me. We chatted for a bit longer before she had to get back to work. I stayed at the coffee shop after she left, checking my messages from back home. Trying not to think about the fact that Ramsay had never responded to my voicemail.
Concentrating on London had made it easier to not think about the man I’d left behind.
I answered texts from Taran, Cammie, and Quinn, and then left the coffee shop to do a little shopping. If there was one thing New York had over Glenvulin, it was the stores and the restaurants. I’d noticed Taran loved a purse of mine, so I wanted to spoil her with something pretty as a thank-you for letting me stay with her. Cammie always wore unusual necklaces, so I was on the hunt for something special to bring back for her too.
As I turned the corner, distracted by a million things, I wasn’t looking where I was going and pain ricocheted up my shoulder as I collided with someone walking in the opposite direction. I stumbled as a male voice snapped “Watch it,” and I opened my mouth to apologize.
And stopped when our gazes locked.
Hugh.
Of all people.
Hugh’s expression slackened with surprise. “Tierney. You’re back?”
“No, I’m not back.” I skirted around him, not wanting to engage with him at all after his visit to Scotland.
“Wait.” He grabbed my biceps, and I shrugged him off with enough force he dropped his hold and raised his hands in surrender. “I’m not … Sorry. Look … I wanted to say, I read the article in theChronicle. I’m sorry about what happened to you. Are you doing okay?”
He actually thought we could have a normal conversation. I guffawed. “Seriously? We’re not doing this. Ever. The world knows why I gave up the shares in my company and that it was for a pretty good reason. Good luck trying to put me under a conservatorship now, asshole.”
Hugh had the audacity to blanch.
“Yeah, did you think I’d forget that horrendous threat?”
“I shouldn’t have said that.” He nodded, fake remorse etched carefully into his features. “I said it in the heat of anger.”
