One. Two. Punch. I feel the blows over and over again, and it’s all I can do to breathe through the pain. My heart is down for the count, and for some reason, as I lie there, knocked out on the floor of my boxing ring, I see stars. Or rather, a star. A lucky one. I see it in my bedroom in Tennessee as it protects me from the dark; I see it in Colton’s hands on the beach as he explains how he’s treasured it all these years; I see it in the coloring book where we deemed it ours.
It’s one simple glow-in-the-dark star, yet its little light pushes its way into my vision until it’s no longer little. It’s a big light reminding me to push out the darkness until there’s nothing left. So that’s what I do. I push. I push out the voices that tell me I am inadequate. I push out the voices that tell me that I am unwanted. I push out the voices that tell me that my family is something to be ashamed of. I push until there’s nothing but light, and I can finally see clearly.
Swiping away my tears, I straighten to my full height, meeting Senator Downing’s piercing eyes with my own. “If you are so certain of Colton’s relationship with Jane, then why come here? Why try to push me out of his life? If he is so in love with that girl, there would be no reason for you to come here and dig your claws into my dreams. So, Senator, my answer is no. And before you act like you never heard my response, let me say it for you again. No, I will not accept your offer. You can keep this building. And somehow, I will find a way to move forward with my nonprofit. I don’t know how, but I will.”
Senator Downing’s features harden, his cordial mask peeling off his face. “Fine, don’t accept my offer.” He takes a step in my direction, his finger pointing directly at me. “But stay away from Colton.”
I lift my chin higher, a new determination coursing through my veins. “I will do nothing of the kind. I am in love with your son, Senator Downing. And whether he does or does not feel the same way, then I will hear it from his lips and not yours. Good day.”
Good day?I roll my shoulders back and pivot on my heels, high on adrenaline as I float toward the double glass doors. I give my blonde curls an elaborate toss for good measure. Yes, good day, Senator Downing.
I’m several yards from the entryway, my heart beating wildly, when one of the glass doors flies open. A gust of warm summer air brushes my skin, and my heart speeds up for an entirely different reason.
Colton. Colton, with his neck tie askew and his dark-brown hair sticking out in all different directions, bursts inside. His chest rises and falls with heavy breaths, as if he’s just run a mile in his tailored gray suit pants and collared shirt. His eyes connect with mine and his face melts from pure panic to relief. He scans me from head to toe as if to confirm that I am really here and not just a figment of his imagination. “Missy,” he says breathlessly.
“You’re here … What are you doing here?” I ask, taking a step toward him.
He closes the distance between us in three long strides. But the relief on his face comes to a decided halt the moment he glimpses the man standing behind me.
Colton’s eyes darken, his jaw clenching. “Father.”
But any further conversation is cut short by a pair of winded and harried policemen that storm into the building on Colton’s heels.
Chapter 30
COLTON
· 40 MINUTES EARLIER ·
I drive my silver Beamer into the parking lot of Downing & West Law Firm, my dad’s old office. Dad had been a partner at this firm from before I was born up until he ran for senator. And before him, it was my grandfather’s firm.
Slowing down, I drive past the large concrete slab that doubles as a waterfall feature with the firm’s name written across it in bold navy lettering. How many times have I passed that sign? Too many to count. But today, it feels different.Ifeel different.
I pull into the open parking spot by my dad’s and cautiously park next to his copper Aston Martin. Squeezing out of my car, I’m careful not to get any dirt on the new gray suit myparents had delivered to my apartment this morning, pressed and perfect in its plastic covering.
After the shock of seeing Jane at the airport, my dad had informed me that I was to meet him at his old office at 11 a.m. sharp, leaving me with just enough time to get home, shower, change, and drive to the firm.
Looking up at the four-story office building with its sleek modern edges and shiny black frame, I have half a mind to turn around, drive home, and hop back in my shower, something I’d dreamed about every day on the island. Time under the hot water this morning didn’t seem nearly long enough, especially after walking through a germ-infested airport.
I reach to tighten my teal-and-black backpack around my shoulders, when I realize it’s not there. The phantom feeling reminds me of something else, or rather, someone else who’s become a part of me, yet is no longer near me. There’s a pit in my stomach as I literally ache for Missy like she is something my body is incapable of existing without.
“Colton.”
Jane’s voice snaps me out of my thoughts, and I find her in her elegant olive pantsuit walking out of the entryway doors with my father. They both beam at me, but it’s Jane whose stylish yet practical low-heeled shoes clack across the pavement to greet me. Before I know it, her arms are around my neck, and her lips graze my cheek. “I’ve missed you.”
It takes all of one second for me to step away from her, and I don’t miss the hurt that crosses her face as I do.
“Hey, Jane.” I clear my throat uncomfortably. Since when did we go from a breakup back to kisses?
In an instant, her face smooths over, her wine-colored lips curling into a smile before she places her hand in the crook of my arm and tugs me toward the building where my father waits for us on the sidewalk.
“It’s good to see you two here together again,” Dad says jovially.
I squint my eyes in his direction, wondering for the thousandth time why I am here. Despite my many inquiries at the airport, both Jane and Dad refused to tell me what today’s “meeting” was about, leaving me with vague descriptions such as “Just wait. It’s better than you could have ever imagined” and “You’ll find out soon enough.”
“I see you didn’t get rid of the scruff.” Dad rubs a hand down his freshly shaven jaw with censure in his eyes. “This is a place of work, Colton, not a beach resort.”
“Duly noted, Father,” I say, doing my best not to scrub out the bad taste left from his comment.
