she was taking a few days off and decimated her airmiles booking a flight to England for the next day.
At least the flight had given her plenty of time to look through the fat stack of paperwork that Meredith had given her. The offer she’d reread countless times still hadn’t sunk in.
Her hair stuck against her neck in the warm summer air. One plane, two trains, and an Uber had more than left their mark. She needed a shower. First, she needed to talk to her cousin.
She knocked again. Then pulled out her phone. Maybe she should have texted her? But Emelia had sounded a bit down the last few days, with Peter away at training camp. She’d thought it would be a nice surprise if she just showed up.
It was nine. A couple of hours later than she’d planned due to her flight being late, meaning she’d missed her train connection. Surely Emelia couldn’t be in bed already. She knocked again, then pulled up Emelia’s number.
“Coming.” The word came a few seconds before the door opened a few inches, held in place by its chain. “Lacey?” Her cousin’s astonished eyes looked at her. “Hold on.”
The door shut for a second, then a scrape as she unlatched the chain and threw it open. “Is everything okay? Are you okay? Come in, come in.” Emelia dragged her in then closed the door behind them. From the lounge came the sound of a TV show. “What are you doing here?”
“I had a few days off, and you sounded like you could use some company while Peter’s away.”
“She could.” His voice came from down the hall, where the man himself leaned against the doorway. The man who was supposed to be at training camp for at least another week.
She looked at her cousin, at her disheveled hair and pink cheeks.
“Good to see you, Lacey.” Peter walked down the hall, the seams of his inside-out T-shirt about as subtle as ketchup on a linen tablecloth.
Awkward.
“Peter’s teammate’s wife went into labor early, so they got an overnight pass.” Emelia’s words fell out of her mouth. “He has to go back in the morning.”
“Okay. I’ll go grab a hotel for the night.” But Victor was coming. Probably arriving soon. She’d told him to meet her here. Presumed she’d have had a chance to talk to Emelia before he arrived.
“No. Of course not! We have a guest room.”
They did. But Peter and Emelia’s house wasn’t large, and she didn’t fancy finding out how well it was soundproofed.
“Yeah, I think I’m going to leave you to your conjugal visit.”
Peter didn’t even offer a token protest.
Her phone buzzed and she looked at the screen. Victor. I’m outside.
Outside? Outside now?
She couldn’t just walk out the door. She didn’t have a car, and Emelia wouldn’t let her wait outside even if she said she’d call a cab.
This was not how this was meant to go. She was supposed to be here two hours ago. Supposed to have had time to talk to her cousin. Supposed to have that out of the way before she talked to Victor. She didn’t even know what to tell him. She’d just known she couldn’t accept the job without addressing what had happened—or not happened—at the wedding.
Her heart thumped in her chest. “I … um …” She’d have to tell them. Tell them and wing it and see what happened. “Victor’s outside.”
“What?” Emelia couldn’t have looked more surprised if she’d said Santa’s sleigh had pulled up in the driveway.
Peter ran a hand through his hair. “Is there … Are you …”
“Give me a few minutes to talk to him, and I’ll explain.” Explain what? She had no idea what she was going to say to Victor. So Meredith has offered me the CEO role, but I can’t stop thinking about the kiss we didn’t have. What did she even want? A kiss before she was his boss and then she couldn’t do it anymore? A declaration? Some grand gesture?
She wasn’t used to not knowing what she wanted. She’d known what she’d wanted since she was fourteen and worked out that all that Small Harbor offered was poverty and misery.
Before either of them could say anything, she’d slipped out the door and closed it firmly behind her. She looked down the path that led to the front fence. Victor stood on the pavement, under a streetlight. Shoulders hunched, hands jammed in his pockets, head down. Something was wrong.