While I waited for the app to interpret the text I’d scanned into my phone, I flipped the postcard over. On the back was a beautiful lake surrounded by misty mountains that was clearly nowhere nearChicago.
My phone beeped. I glanced at it and read the text the app had come up with. Some words were missing, but I filled them in easilyenough:
Ash,
Good to meet you. Come visit anytime you’re in Oregon. We’d love to see you and Peteagain.
Livewell,
Jed (andMax)
Oregon. I flipped the postcard again and read the location in the small print and blinked. Ashton…seriously?Was this some kind of joke? If the postcard had been from Joe, it would’ve found its way to the trash by now, but Jed wasn’t like that…right?
I googled the name and came up with a small town just outside Portland, and my stomach did an uncomfortable flip. Fuck. Jed lived twenty minutes away from the biggest exhibition I’d put on all year, and in a heartbeat, my resolution to avoid it crumbledtodust.
ChapterFive
Pete
“You’re going to drive all the way toOregon?”
“Yup.” Ash taped a box and loaded it onto the pallet the shipping company was due to collect any minute. He was running late—as usual—and I’d stopped by to help him out, but he’d yet to let me touch any of his precious paintings. And I was too distracted by his bombshell to arguewithhim.
“When did youdecidethis?”
“About five seconds ago.” Another box found its way onto the pallet. “Those big canvases can’t go with the courier, and there isn’t enough time to ship them with a differentcompany.”
I glanced at the stack of canvases in the corner—three paintings that hadn’t been touched in eons—but I knew better than to question their worth to the exhibition. “Doyouhave enough time to get them there? Portland is, like, aweekaway.”
“Four days, actually—quicker if I drive more than eight hoursaday.”
“Why would you want todothat?”
Ash shrugged. “Why not? You could comewithme?”
He wasn’t looking at me, but I shook my head anyway. “I can’t. I have to work, and so do you. I thought you were booked up untilChristmas?”
“I canreschedule.”
“You neverdothat.”
“So?” Ash dumped his final box on the pallet. “Doesn’t mean Ican’t.”
“What’sgoingon?”
Crickets. With anyone else, I’d call them out for being an ignorant dick, but Ash wasn’t like that. He lost his words when he was agitated, upset, or anxious, and by the set of his jaw and his jittery hands, I was willing to bet he was all three right now. It was thewhythatescapedme.
“Ash.” I ventured farther into the warehouse bay and made a grab for his hand as he rounded the stacked pallets. “Talk to me. Why do you want to drop everything and drive to Portland? If you want to go to the exhibition, why don’t you fly outthere?”
“I told you. These paintings need to getthere.”
“Dothey?”
More crickets. I’d hit my mark. This wasn’t about the paintings. “What’s in Portland? Or what’s here in Chicago that you want to getawayfrom?”
“Nothing’s here in Chicago. Liam’s gone to Seattle, and Danni and Joe are visiting his momallweek.”
“I’m here—” But I was cut off by the arrival of the shipping truck, and as Ash reclaimed his arm and moved to greet it, I realized that perhaps he’d been right the first time. My supervisor had posted the December schedule, and my prophecy about Christmas passing me by had proved true. Staff shortages and budget cuts meant that if Liam had stayed in town for the holidays, we’d have had a seriousproblem.
