of heart. A lot like you, Willow. I don’t need to know the details of what happened. That’s between you and Bobby. But know that sometimes love, the verb, I mean, is hard to do, but you do it anyway.”
Does she think Bobby broke up with me and I’m supposed to love him anyway?
Does she know I sent him off to Nashville, and she’s telling me she understands why I did it?
I don’t know.
Hell, maybe this is her way of getting gossip straight from the source, though I don’t think she’s the type at all.
The oven timer dings, breaking the moment. “Oh, that’s dinner. Can you stay?” she asks.
“No. Actually, I’d better be going.” I don’t want to be here when everyone comes in to eat after a long day. “Tell everyone I hope they like them,” I say, lifting my head toward the boxes.
She sets the casserole dish on the stovetop and comes over to hug me, oven mitts and all. “You take care of yourself, Willow. You’re so good at taking care of everyone else, don’t forget to take care of you too.” She eyes me, daring me to disobey. Somehow, I think she’ll know if I don’t follow her order.
“I will. Bye, Mama Louise.”
I’m out the door and halfway to town before the tears come again. I’ll miss her and that whole family.
I stop by Unc’s house, noting that the flower beds look pretty good. I wonder if Unc was feeling well enough to get out here and weed them? Or maybe Bobby stopped by one day without mentioning it?
I knock on the door and Unc answers quickly. He’s moving pretty well, not even limping today as he leads me into the living room.
“I can only stay a second, but I wanted to let you know . . .”
Chapter 24
Bobby
“I’m here to see Jeremy Marshall,” I tell the receptionist.
“Do you have an appointment?” Her tone is snippy, like I’m beneath her.
“No. Tell him Bobby Tannen is here, please.”
My name doesn’t mean shit, especially here. And after last week’s phone call where I told a shocked Jeremy that I was turning down his offer, he might not want to see me at all. But I hope he does.
I drove all night into this morning to get here. I slept for a few hours in a truck stop parking lot and dug a fresh shirt out of the backseat of my truck. By fresh, I mean clean, not unwrinkled. Despite the receptionist’s lingering glances, I know I look like hell. I feel even worse.
Not exactly how I thought signing a contract was going to go, but here I am.
The receptionist hangs up the phone. “He’ll be with you in a moment.” Almost as soon as the words leave her lips, the door opens.
“Bobby! Good to see you, man! You reconsider our offer?”
He’s excited, eager, even hungry. I can feel it in his handshake, see it in his eyes.
“I am reconsidering,” I give him. I’m still not sure how I got here.
“Excellent.” His smile beams, blindingly white and straight. “Let’s sit down and go over things. Right this way.” He throws a hand out, leading me through the doorway. I can feel the receptionist’s eyes on my ass as I walk through. I glance back and catch her red-handed, but instead of looking caught, she smiles coyly and lifts one brow.
A growl tries to rattle in my chest. I don’t want her to look at me like that. I only want Willow’s eyes on me that way.
She owns me—body, mind, heart, and soul. Whether she wants me or not.
Jeremy invites me to sit in his office, not the conference room this time. He opens a small silver door on a credenza, a hidden mini-fridge, and hands me a cold water. “Looks like you’ve had a long day already,” he says, still smiling that too-bright smile.
“Drove in last night. Slept in my truck,” I explain, wiping a palm over my shirt to smooth the creases. It doesn’t work, it just leaves a trail of condensation along my belly. I look at my hand, not realizing that it was even damp from the bottle of water, and wipe it on my jeans-covered thigh.
“Oh, no. We’ll get you a hotel for tonight. No worries about that, man. What else do you need?”
“Nothing,” I grunt. “I’m pretty low-maintenance. I’ll grab a few T-shirts from Walmart later. That’ll get me through.”
His lips quiver, though he’s fighting it. He’s laughing at me.