I took a very long shower. Each time I thought I was done, I decided my body needed just a little more heat. Only when the water cooled to the dark side of tepid did I turn it off. I took my time toweling dry, blew my hair a little, brushed my teeth. My mug shot was there on the inside of the medicine chest—my old nemesis, never far—but I kept my mind on taking care of myself and getting out of the house.
It was a blend of escapism, defiance, and self-pity. It was also desperation. I wanted Edward gone by the time I was dressed.
When I left the bathroom, I heard voices down below. Since I wasn’t dressed yet, I told myself that there was still time for him to leave.
Closing the bedroom door, I thumbed up Adele loud enough to drown out my thoughts. With my eyes out the window on the woods and my back to the door, I sat on the bed, pulled on leggings, a sweater, and heavy socks. Then I stood, turned, and gasped. Edward’s back was closing the door—the door tomy bedroom.
Every bit of the anger I had tamped down in the shower returned. “Leave,” I said with what I thought was commendable composure. Whenhe didn’t budge, I said it louder, and when he continued to stare, I reached for my phone to silence Adele, and said it a third time, even louder, in case his hearing had gone bad in the years we’d been apart.
His voice was low. “Why won’t you return my calls?”
“This is my house, Edward. I don’t want you here.” He was too tall for this room, toopastfor this house.
“We need to talk.”
“This is not a good time. I have to get to work.”
“Your first appointment isn’t until eleven.”
I could ask how he knew what my schedule was, but it would have been a waste of breath. He owned the Inn. He owned the Spa. He owned the new computers and would own the new tablets. He could search them at will. I hadnocontrol over that.
But here? Now? Crossing to the door, I moved him aside, returned to the bathroom, closed myself in, and flipped the lock. For a minute, bracing stiff arms on the rim of the sink, I hung my head. One deep inhalation later, though, defiance brought me upright. He might own all that at the Spa, but this was my house, my life.
He knocked.
“Not now,” I said and reached for my makeup. If I wanted to feel strong, makeup was a must. I needed to look like the new me.
I half expected him to say something through the paneled wood. As I stood there, though, I heard nothing for a minute, then the sound of retreating footsteps. I heard him go down the stairs, and listened for either talk or the closing of the front door. Hearing neither, and not about to face him until I was good and ready, I carefully applied concealer, foundation, and blusher. I did my eyes and knotted my hair back. I brushed my bangs.
Realizing that I couldn’t put this off forever if I hoped to meet Grace, I did a final check to make sure I was put together. After packing my blow dryer, best brushes, hair scissors, and clips in a tote, I went downstairs.
Liam was washing the last of the cookware while Edward ate what was left of the food. Both looked up when I appeared. Liam went still withthe dish towel on the pan; Edward set down his fork and stood. Both looked wary. But then, neither was stupid. They had to see that I was fuming.
Driving home that point, my heels hit the wood hard with each step to deny the gentle sound my wool socks normally made without boots. “Glad you boys are enjoying each other’s company,” I said when I was halfway to the door. “Good breakfast, Liam.” My tote hit the bench with a thud.
“You didn’t finish.”
“I had plenty.” I looked back and smiled, not a particularly nice smile, but the best I could do. “Mom had it right. My eyes were always bigger than my stomach.” Those eyes sharpened, daring him to say something smart. He seemed to think better of it. I checked my watch and made for the door. “I’m leaving now. I have a nine-thirty appointment that was not on the books. She’s a paying customer.” The currency was friendship, of course, but that meant as much to me as dollars and cents.
“It’s with Grace,” said Liam the traitor. I wasn’t sure if he thought he was helping, but I didn’t stop to find out.
“She can wait,” Edward insisted. “This is important.”
“Says the man who bought the Spa and is therefore my boss?” I asked, moving aside my bags only enough to make room for my butt on the bench.
His voice followed me. “Says the one who was married to you and has a crisis here.”
I straightened the laces on my right boot and put my foot in. “Youhave a crisis? Sorry if I don’t feel sympathy, because there’s a no-brainer fix foryourcrisis. Leave town.”
“I can’t,” he said. His voice was even closer. “I would have explained that last night, only you ran out—and I understand why you did. I didn’t expect what happened to happen, either. I didn’t lead you back to my place for that.”
“Um, okay,” Liam announced loudly, “I think I’ll go out.”
Reaching for the left boot, I gave my brother a disparaging once-over.“Wearing that?” He had on sweatpants, a skimpy tee, and bare feet that were already moving toward the stairs, and we both knew that the rest of his clothes were just as pathetic.
“I’ll go to the loft, then,” he said.
“You’ll hear everything from there,” I called. “You could try the bathroom—but there’s really no need. Another few seconds, and I’m gone.”
