Ride Rough - Tessa Layne Page 0,73

least that's what he tried to tell himself.

Chapter Thirty

The story broke on Tuesday. It had taken less than forty-eight hours for CiCi's voicemail to fill completely with interview and appearance requests. By Friday, some overly enthusiastic resident had spilled the beans about Trace. To Cecilia's utter relief, Trace had already left for Dodge City when the paparazzi began to arrive by mid-afternoon. By three o'clock Dottie chased them out of the diner. "It's an hour past close, people. There's no story here."

Dottie called after Cecilia as she was hanging up her apron. "Don't you dare run out of here like a scared rabbit. Emma Sinclaire's waitin' in the back office with the crisis bottle and a fresh pie - cherry."

Cecilia made her way to the office and took a seat next to Emma, who offered her a hug. "You doing okay?"

Cecilia made a face and shrugged. "It's a lot. All of it."

"Well I've been thinking about how I can help. You know a few years ago when Trace was in town for the Vets and Pros charity game, the paparazzi were horrible. They trespassed, they followed us home, someone even stole my bag, hacked my phone, and then posted... err... compromising photos of me on the web."

"You're kidding," Cecilia exclaimed. "How awful."

"It was a nightmare. Cost me my job with my PR firm in Kansas City."

"Oh, wow. Not that it's nice to hear about someone else getting sacked, but it does help me feel not so alone."

"And look how it turned out. I couldn't be happier."

So why did this silver lining feel more like the inside of a lead balloon?

Emma reached for the bottle of twelve-year Redbreast sitting on Dottie's desk, and poured two tumblers full. "Dottie thought you could use my firm's help managing all the calls you're getting."

"I'd planned on barging into your office as soon as my shift was finished, so you've saved me a trip."

Emma smiled and handed her a glass. "Good, then. Cheers." Emma raised her glass, eyeing her over the rim of the tumbler.

"But I'm guessing that's not what you want to discuss?"

"I want to apologize."

Cecilia's chest tightened. "Let me guess, you knew."

She winced, then nodded. "Not at first. Like you, I wasn't happy when I found out. But after my experience the last time he was here, I did understand why Trace's presence needed to be kept confidential and limited."

"Yeah, I know. I get, I do."

"But?" Emma prodded.

She shrugged. "I don't even know if there's a but, anymore." She'd been the recipient of a steady stream of visitors in the days since Trace had revealed his identity. First, her girlfriends, then the menfolk, including Emma's husband, Sterling Walker - Trace's "cousin." "It's more about dodging the press and then of course dealing with timing now that my story's out in the world."

"Well, I can help you with the latter. The former, though. You're going to have to decide what you want, and whether you're willing to make a life with Trace, regardless of the circumstances. No one's perfect, CiCi. We're all broken in some way. Think of a relationship as... kintsugi pottery. And it's not that our partners can put us back together. Only we can do that, but even then - the pieces won't fit back together properly. What makes love beautiful and magical is the liquid gold that gets poured into our cracks so that we come out better. More... complete, but still ourselves." She flashed a smile. "Ourselves with gold. Am I making any sense?"

Cecilia grabbed a plate of pie and started munching, eyes briefly rolling into her head as the perfect blend of sour, sweet, star anise and clove hit her tongue. "Someday I'll be a baker like Dottie," she groaned, taking another heaping forkful. "And yes, you're making perfect sense."

"I don't know if this helps, but Sterling makes me more me. And I like to think I make him more him. Scars and all."

Cecilia tipped back the tumbler and drained the whiskey in two long gulps, choking as the burn hit her throat. "Thanks, I needed that. And I'd love to catch up, but I think I need to talk to my sister."

"I understand. Why don't I stop by tonight with a bottle of wine? We can catch up and start taking a bite out of the media frenzy."

"Sounds great," Cecilia tossed over her shoulder as she hurried out of the diner, phone in hand. She cycled home in record time and propped the bike next to the