Change of Heart - By S.E. Edwards Page 0,55

the picture, and her hair was longer…” Amanda trails off in thought. “It’s a wonder I only saw it now.”

Something Amanda said caught my ear. “Rich doesn’t talk about his sister? Why?”

“He blames himself for not being able to take her with him when he left New York. She’d been too young to understand the truth about their father. Richard didn’t want her to grow up in the same environment he did, but couldn’t just pick her up and go, either. She was still his father’s daughter, and underage besides. That would have been kidnapping.”

“Has he talked to her since leaving?” I prod carefully.

“I think not. When I met him, he always said he’d get in touch with her when she was older. Who knows?” Amanda looks back at the clock and grimaces. “And now,” she announces, “you’ve officially made me late for work.”

“Sorry,” I say. “And thanks for the breakfast.”

“Sure. Just clean up after yourself, will you? I hate coming home to a dirty kitchen. Oh! Don’t give any scraps to Mel, either. She’ll beg and whimper, but they’re bad for her.”

“Sure thing.” I feel a little guilty for the pieces of food I’d been sneaking under the table to the retriever this whole time. “Amanda? Before you go, can I ask you something?”

“Make it quick,” she says, shrugging into a jacket she’d left on the counter.

I take a deep breath. “It’s about Rich. You don’t… still love him do you?”

My question catches her off guard. She freezes in the motion of pulling the jacket over her arms.

“No,” she says finally. “No, of course not.” She laughs, but it has an uneasy edge to it. “Why?” Her eyes suddenly become hard. “Do I give off that impression?”

“No, no,” I retreat. “Definitely not. I was just making sure, that’s all.”

“Well, that’s a rude, stupid question to ask,” she grumbles. “Forget what I said about cleaning up. Just… don’t touch anything while I’m gone, okay?”

Before I have a chance to answer, she storms out of the kitchen. I hear the front door slam a few moments later.

Mel whimpers and looks up at me. I scratch her neck. “What a mess,” I whisper to her.

Despite Amanda’s denial, I can tell I’d struck a nerve. I know she definitely has feelings for Rich.

Chapter Eleven

I hear Rich’s truck in the driveway only a few minutes after Amanda leaves. The front door opens just as I round the corner to it. A wet, dripping Rich stomps in.

“God,” he complains. “It’s a shit storm out there.” He shakes off his soaked jacket and throws it to the floor. Then he notices me.

I don’t know if it’s just my imagination, but his eyes seem to light up when they land on me. “Look who finally decided to wake up! We missed you at breakfast.”

I smile. “So I heard.”

“Was Amanda still here when you woke? Good. I was afraid you’d get up and freak out with both of us gone. I wrote you a note—” Rich gives a sheepish grin, “—but I forgot it in my pocket when I left.”

“Did you, now?” I ask, curious. “Let me see.”

Rich hesitates, and then pulls out a crumpled, yellow Post-It from his jeans. The paper is soaked through. He hands it to me. I flatten it against my leg, then try to read it. The black ink has run.

“‘Penny,’” I start, struggling to make out the letters, “‘I had to leave early but will be back. Rich.’” I perk an eyebrow at him. “Very poetic.”

Rich snatches it from my hand. “Don’t make fun! I’m not one for long-winded letters.”

“Clearly,” I say, following him into the house. Mel runs up to us and barks happily. I kneel down and rub her belly.

Rich raises an eyebrow. “You’re friends with the dog now?”

I give him a significant look. “Her name is Mel. And yes. She and I have taken a liking to each other.”

“Quite the opposite of you and Amanda, huh?”

“Actually, Amanda and I are getting along, too. We talked for a long time last night after you fell asleep.”

Rich looks surprised. “You did? She didn’t mention that to me. Does that mean I won’t have to worry about leaving you two together anymore?”

“I think I can manage,” I say. “Besides, if anything goes wrong, I’ve got Mel as backup.”

“I don’t know if you want to test a dog’s loyalty to her owner,” Rich muses. “But I trust you’ve got enough sense for that.”

“Finally you’re giving me some credit,” I say sarcastically. “So where