She ignored it.
It buzzed again.
She closed her eyes in clear frustration.
“You should get that,” Luke said. “Might be your boyfriend.”Please don’t let it be her boyfriend.
She glanced at the phone and fear flashed across her face. “Excuse me a moment.” She walked away without waiting for him to reply. She didn’t go far. He could hear every word clearly.
“Hello.” A pause. “Are you okay?” Her words were terse but held a hint of compassion. “I am.” Another pause. “It’s okay. Do you need me to—” This time Faith listened for a full minute without so much as a “huh” or “yeah.” When she did respond, it wasn’t a word. It was a groan, followed by, “You’vegotto be kidding me.”
9
THISWASN’T THE WAYit was supposed to be. Faith hadn’t expected adulthood to be one endless game of whack-a-mole where all she did was beat into submission every new problem that popped up—all the while, standing still. Never going anywhere. Never changing the view.
Faith fought hard to keep all emotion from her voice. “I’m not at home. Send me the link and the log-in. I’ll check it out. Can I call you back later?” She ended the call. Why now? Why ever?
She squeezed her hands tight to still them as she returned to Luke. She braced herself for an interrogation, but he didn’t speak, even after she took her seat and leaned back in the chair. When she finally looked at him, he held her gaze and didn’t look away. His intense focus gave her a glimpse of what it must be like to be questioned by Luke Powell. She didn’t like it. “Spit it out, Powell.”
He shrugged. “I’m not going to ask you if everything is okay, because I know it isn’t.”
He had that right.
“You don’t have to tell me, but I’ve been told I’m an excellent listener. You’re welcome to vent.”
“It’s not a life-or-death issue.” Faith attempted a light laugh but instead succeeded in something that to her ears sounded more like a seal barking.
Luke squeezed his lips together in a tight line, probably to stop himself from laughing. “Well, thank goodness for that.” He spoke with overdone relief. “I’m done with life-or-death issues. I prefer first-world problems all the way. So if you have one of those, please share it with me.”
She slid her iPad and pencil into her bag. “My sister is an attorney, here in Raleigh. She also happens to be in a wheelchair, which is the least remarkable or interesting thing about her, but at times has been an issue when it comes to dating. She was in a long-term relationship that ended about six month ago, and she has no interest in changing her status from single to committed. But tonight, one of Hope’s friends let her know that there’s a dating profile for her on an online dating service. Hope had nothing to do with it, but when she got on there, she did some digging and found there’s also a profile for me.”
Faith clamped her mouth shut. Why had she told him that? She didn’t talk about her homelife at work. Ever. It was a rule that had served her well.
When Luke concentrated, was frustrated, or was worried, he pulled his brows together and a deep line formed between them. The line was deeper than she’d ever seen it, and she’d seen it often enough at JTTF meetings to know she needed to be prepared for anything when he quit thinking and started talking.
She braced herself for the coming barrage, but instead he held up one finger. “I have a few questions.”
His deep, steady voice, without a trace of the earlier humor orsarcasm, had a soothing effect. He waited to continue until she gave a brief nod of assent.
“How old is your sister?”
Of all the questions he could have asked, that was not one she’d been expecting, and she answered it without hesitation. “She’s twenty-nine.”
Luke took that in with a slow nod. “Do you have any other siblings?”
“No.” She had no idea where he was going with this, but his questions were hardly intrusive.
Luke gave her a small smile. “Can I see the dating profile?”
“No!”
“Okay. Fine. But do you have any idea who would put up profiles for you and your sister?”
“Hope has a pretty good idea of who did it. And I think she’s right.”
Luke waited, a mildly curious expression on his face, as though it didn’t matter to him one way or the other if she answered his question. But she was almost certain he was dying to know.
She dropped her head in her hands. “Our mother.”
