Page 107 of Threaded Lies

And when the tears subside, when Sloane’s hand squeezes mine, I can finally admit that she might be a little bit right about everything in our conversation.

I can be falling for him but not completely trust him.

I can want the company but know it’s not feasible.

I could spend the next two years busting my ass, married to Chad Williams to get my inheritance, but when all is said and done, not net anything more than I have in this moment.

And for what?

What would I have missed out on?

What would I have let myself walk away from?

FORTY-ONE

Rowan

The music moved me today.

It always does but there is something about that room, that place, and those women that fulfilled me more than usual.

Maybe it’s my changing thought process or perhaps the self-imposed weight slowly lifting off my shoulders that’s contributing as well.

“Looking beautiful as ever, Miss Rowan,” Simon the security guard says as I lug my cello case back out to my car.

“And you are as charming as ever.”

“I know,” he says, matter-of-fact, and I laugh.

“Don’t ever change, Simon,” I call over my shoulder.

“Never.”

I’m in my car and pulling out of the parking lot within minutes. But instead of going left at the first corner, I go right. I decide to drive around Fairmont and see if I can picture Rhett’s vision of this place, but more important, see how Holden plans on stopping it.

I pass block after block. Some buildings are vacant, others are for sale, and a good percentage occupied.

Rhett would devastate this city. The poverty, the opportunity, the absolute desperation … Christ.

I jump at the sound of my cell phone coming through my speaker and then groan when I see the name on the screen.

I answer the call.

“Chad. Hi.”

“I talked to Henry.”

“And?”

“I don’t see him budging on this, Rowan. Normally I can get him to move, but not this time.”

I pull over the curb and let the weight of his statement hit me. All this scheming, all this lying, all this elaborate wedding planning and it’s all for naught.

“Are you there?” he asks.

“I’m here. I mean, what more can I do? I’m three-quarters of the way through Gran’s office paperwork and I’ve found nothing to help me.”

“Yeah, well … there’s still a quarter left, right? And worst-case scenario, we go through with it so you can start the countdown on that time frame. It’s not like you have anyone else waiting in the wings to marry you, right?”