“Shoot, sorry.” Sandra pulled it out of her pocket and silenced it. “That’s my alarm telling me I need to get going.” She smiled apologetically at Wren and Kit.
“No worries,” Wren said. “I hope your tooth isn’t cracked.”
“Me too.” Sandra rubbed her cheek. “If you’re still here when I get done, I can help you pack up.” She looked around the room. “It’s a lot of stuff.”
“Don’t worry, it’ll be okay. I’ll walk you out.” She hoped the fresh air would clear her head and settle her stomach.
Sandra picked up her purse. “It was nice meeting you, Kit.”
“You too.”
When they got to the hall, Sandra laid her hand on Wren’s upper arm. “You looked really upset in there and now you’re white as a ghost. You sure you’re okay? I could cancel?—”
“Don’t you dare.” Wren gave her the brightest smile she could muster. “The room was stuffy and I should have had a little more to eat for breakfast. I’ll be fine with some fresh air and a snack.”
Sandra held the front door open for Wren. “Promise?” The caring tone in her voice went straight to Wren’s heart, calming her.
“I feel better already.” She stepped outside and took a deep breath. The air was sweet thanks to a large planter full of red and pink petunias beside the door. “Now, go get your tooth taken care of. And thank you.”
“Thankyou, Wren. I’ll text.”
“Sounds good.”
Wren watched her until she got into her car. Then she closed her eyes as she leaned against the rough wall of the building. The cool concrete felt good against the back of her sweaty neck.
I can handle this. Ineedto handle this. On the count of three, we’re going back in. One, two, three.
Wren opened her eyes, turned, and grabbed the door handle before her thoughts could stop her. She smiled and nodded at the receptionist as she marched back to the room.
Move, don’t think. Just keep moving forward.
When Wren walked backinto the meeting room, Kit was still standing next to the laptop but she was frowning down at her phone.
“Everything all right?” Wren asked.
Kit looked up from her phone. “Yes. Our second guy is running a little behind. He lives here too, and slept through his alarm. He says he’ll be down in a few minutes. I was afraid he was getting cold feet. He’s very shy, very self-effacing. That’s why I told you today might not happen, but we’re two for two.” She looked at the door. “If he shows up.”
“Let’s take a look at the photos in the meantime.” Wren woke her laptop back up and started scrolling through photos of Matthew and Arthur.
“This one,” Wren said, tapping the screen. “This one tells the story.” She studied the way Matthew’s world-weary smile contrasted to his laughing son on his lap.Such sweet, guileless innocence. “A little boy who lost his world when he lost his mother, then lost everything else to medical bills afterward, but his father shields him as best he can. And sometimes, he succeeds.”
Kit nodded beside her. “It makes you want to protect them both.”
“Exactly.”
A slow grin spread across Kit’s lips. “You have a gift.”
Wren tsked. “I get lucky sometimes, that’s all.”
“No, you really do. That’s why I tagged you for this assignment. I always thought your celebrity photos really brought out the parts of their personalities we never see. Their vulnerabilities.” She ran her hand through her short, spiky blackhair. “Watching you with Arthur, I can see how you make people feel at ease. I couldn’t get him to smile upstairs, but getting him to take a photo of his dad first was inspired.”
Wren shook her head. “It was all Matthew making faces. That’s usuallymyfallback—make ’em laugh.”
Two voices outside the door caught their attention—one sounded like the receptionist and the other a man’s voice.
“That must be him,” Kit said.
A moment later, the receptionist appeared in the doorway, guiding an older man in with her. Evan moved with a slow, deliberate pace, his shoulders hunched slightly, as if the weight of the world rested on them. His clothes, though clean, were worn, and his sunken eyes carried a weary expression that Wren immediately recognized—the look of sleepless nights spent worrying.
