was starting to wonder if anyone really needed her.
Chapter Four
What had he said? Or done? Three days ago, Jane was easygoing and welcoming. Dan wouldn’t say she was happy to see him, but she was sweet and eager to talk to him. Today, he sat in the same place at the round table, and there was a distinct chill in the air. She was still friendly, but it had a professional edge to it, a little separation. Her reception the other day was what he had hoped for, but since then? Nope. Something was definitely different.
Expecting her to be anything more than polite was egotistical on his part—it wouldn’t be the first time. He had to remind himself that Jane had a life that didn’t include him. He’d made sure of that when he walked away from her all those years ago.
He’d gotten the frame for his story done in the bookstore the other night. He’d left when she locked the door for the night. They didn’t talk much that last hour, but he liked watching her. She had little routines and mannerisms that he remembered from when she worked there as a teenager.
She was still strong. Determined. But he sensed something else. Jane seemed resigned. Maybe even a little bit sad. He didn’t know why he thought that, and the presumption was arrogant. He didn’t know much of anything about her. He hadn’t even asked about her daughter.
He could have brought it up in conversation, but Dan was so pissed off at himself that he didn’t know any of the details of her life. He avoided it like the coward that he was. He should have been there for each of the milestones, as well as the heartbreaks, but he wasn’t.
Should have. He was saying that way too much. It was a sign of how much he’d screwed up.
His author life was one of excess. Everything was bigger, bolder, and designed to make him the center of the universe. He was invited to every A-list party in Hollywood, Washington, and New York, every interview show, every red carpet. Until he wasn’t. The circus spiraled into crazy territory a little over a year ago when one of his books was used to plan a brutal murder. The thirty-two-year-old woman was found dead in an Ohio office building parking garage. A copy of his book was found at the scene, linking him to the crime. That was when Dan pulled back from his public life.
Sure, his books were still selling, but he had hit bottom. Once the details of the actual crime were known, he didn’t know if he’d ever get past how it disgusted him.
While he was hiding out, and licking his wounds, he didn’t give a rat’s ass about anyone else. He’d ignored his sister, and her kids. He didn’t know about a recent promotion she’d received. Half the time he didn’t know how old the kids were, but last year he’d forgotten all their birthdays. Her husband had changed jobs, and Dan never had a clue.
Now that he’d re-entered the land of the living, he was going to do better. He’d started with Mel and the kids, and Jane was next. She wasn’t angry, but he sensed caution where he was concerned. It threw him a little off balance, but maybe that’s what he needed. If he was able to keep a low profile, he wouldn’t be followed by sycophants and fans in Angel Harbor. His nieces and nephew didn’t care about his money, or the bestseller lists, or his damn process. His sister wasn’t impressed either.
And that’s why he wasn’t going to call his editor or agent. Not yet. They’d try to pump up his ego, and get him back in his lane. They’d been pushing him for years, not thinking about the toll the pace and the publicity were taking on him. Had they been behind his success? Absolutely. Was the money nice? Sure. He had a ton of it. But he didn’t love the life. Not anymore. He didn’t need the attention or the celebrity or the drama.
He didn’t know why he didn’t just quit writing. That was his first instinct, but it pissed him off that he could be chased out of his job by some psycho. The writing was in his blood. He’d tried to quiet the voices more than once. He didn’t write for five years after he graduated law school, focusing on passing the bar and making a name for himself