what Holt had done.
“And?” Hayden asked the question like he hadn’t suggested something life-changing.
“He offered it to me to make my products. He’d even mapped out a display area for them in his lobby.” The magnitude of what he’d offered and that I’d immediately rejected it hit me hard.
“So what’s the issue?”
Was it that easy to simply say yes to Holt’s proposal? She seemed to think it was.
“When he showed it to me, it felt like he was taking away my choice. But now, I’m not so sure.” I glanced out the window as confusion descended.
“Want my advice?”
“Please.”
“Keep doing what you’re doing. Keep tweaking, improving, loving what you do. You’ll know if you want to push to the next level or stay where you are now.”
I nodded. “That makes sense.”
“Whatever you decide, I’m behind you. You have a place at the magazine, but if you want to pursue cosmetics, I’m with you as soon we have the lab verify it's safe.”
“I’m happy right now.” As I said it, I realized that was the truth.
“Let’s chat about this again in . . . a month? Would that give you more time to see what sort of line you’d want to start with? Complete the products to be ready for testing?”
“I’d like that.”
Gratitude for Hayden coming into my life filled me. Knowing I had her support and friendship eased my stress.
She grinned at me over her cup. “Now tell me about this man who’s offering you space in his garage.”
Chapter Fifteen
Holt
“What are you doing here?”
Inwardly, I cursed at the nervous edge in my voice.
“I didn’t know how else to reach you.” My mother stayed rooted in her position by a worn-out chair and dusty end table littered with magazines that were at least five years old.
“How’d you find me?”
“You wouldn’t answer my calls.”
“Maybe I didn’t want to talk.” The words were hollow, even to my own ears. I’d wanted to speak to her all my life . . . more than anything.
She grasped the back of the chair, a gold bangle bracelet glinting in the light. Her pale pink slacks were pressed flat, the collar of her white blouse flipped up in a way she made work. My mother didn’t look anywhere near the sixty-something she was. Somehow that disappointed me.
The life she’d left us for had obviously treated her well.
“I’d like to speak with you.” She glanced around the space. “Somewhere more . . . private,” she finally settled on. “Could we meet for lunch? Or dinner perhaps?”
“I don’t know.”
She’d presented the opportunity I’d been waiting for my whole life, yet I wasn’t sure if I could take it. Sometimes the not knowing was better. She had the power to confirm my worst fears. I didn’t think I could take being responsible for robbing my father of a wife and my siblings of their mother.
She reached in her purse and handed me a cream business card, a phone number the only thing written on it. “When you do know, you can reach me at this number.”
Before I could respond, she disappeared, almost as if I’d dreamed up the whole thing.
“You know her?” Ed wiped his hands down the front of his coveralls. He and Dad had been friends for a long time, but post-divorce.
“Not really.”
Not so long ago, I’d been determined to talk to her, even against Andrew’s wishes. It was one of the reasons I’d returned to New York, to get the very chance she’d just given me. Had she stopped by because I’d reached out to her? If she were as eager to reconnect as I was, why did it take her so long? Months had gone by since I’d messaged her on social media.
I flicked the card in the trash. My brother was right. She’d abandoned us. That was her choice. Now I’d made mine.
* * *
“Did you speak to your sister?”
Baker stood in the kitchen, already changed into my T-shirt and a pair of sweats. Her hair was piled on top of her head and her feet were bare. My first thought was strip her down and get lost so I didn’t have to think about my family or the mess I’d made of my life.
Instead, I tossed my keys on the island and kept it between us. I didn’t trust myself in the mood I was in.
“No.” Sarcasm seeped into my voice.
When she opened her mouth to respond, I was 100 percent sure she’d press me on the topic.
I held up my hand. “Not now.”
She stuck