AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“No, we already decided that.”
“I think I need to decide it again.”
I shot him a glance. “It’s hard for me to remember too.”
He smiled, and it was sort of sad. It was somewhat heartbreaking to have such intense chemistry with someone, and to enjoy that person, and to still know that you just weren’t right for each other for a variety of reasons, some more weighty than others.
“So…what’s next?” he asked, obviously attempting to change the subject. “We could go check out a few more antique shops.”
“The gallery is closed tomorrow,” I said. “Faith is going to go with me to a couple shops.”
“Oh.”
“I figured you were working anyway.”
He nodded. “I am. Working. There’s a lot to do before…London.”
My stomach gave a twist. But he wasn’t the only one leaving soon. He was starting a new life somewhere else, and I was returning to mine. “Well, time is ticking. The fixes to my uncle’s boat are going to be complete soon and then I’ll have to go back.”
“The brood,” he murmured.
“The brood. And the bar. Real life.”
“Real life,” he murmured. He stopped, turning toward me again and I came up short. “Will you call me right away if you find anything?” He offered a smile that looked sort of wobbly and maybe a little bit bashful. This confident businessman with the world at his feet was looking at me like my answer could make or break him.
“Of course I will, Gage.” I smiled. “For now, we’re in this together.” For now.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Gage
I stared out the window of my office that overlooked Calliope’s business district, watching the cars move along the street and people in business suits enter and exit buildings. I had plenty to do and yet…I was…bored. I’d never felt bored before, or rather, I’d never acknowledged my boredom, but that’s exactly what it was, wasn’t it? That antsy feeling inside of me was an unusual sort of boredom. Huh. As if I didn’t have more than enough to occupy myself. I turned, going to my desk and sitting down, picking up my cell phone, hesitating and then replacing it on my desk.
“Damn it,” I muttered, bouncing my knee. It’d been two days since I’d spoken to Rory. She hadn’t called to update me on whether she’d found any art or not and so I assumed she hadn’t. But what if she had, and that had led her to something else she was looking into, and I didn’t know about it because I hadn’t picked up the phone and called her first?
My gaze fell on the list my assistant Rebecca had put on my desk that morning regarding the personal action items I still needed to check off in preparation for my move to London. There were printouts of the layout of my flat underneath the list and I pulled them out, my eyes moving over the one-dimensional rooms for a moment. I tried and failed to picture myself there, watching television in the living room, or standing at a window, the sight of Calliope replaced by London’s skyline, or even cooking, the thing that made me feel inspired wherever I was, even in an unfamiliar bar on the docks with the equipment so old it probably dated back three Casteel generations. I pushed the pile of papers aside. “Damn it,” I repeated, taking my head in my hands.
What would my parents think of Rory Casteel, whose family owned a quaint-but-in-need-of-repairs bar on the docks in a town named after mud that was likely to suck you under if you weren’t careful? They’d immediately disapprove. They wouldn’t consider her the “right” woman to stand by my side as I moved into the next chapter of my career and my life. My father loved my mother, but he’d married her because she was a society girl, like Blakely Wingate, who only enhanced his upward social mobility. He had come from a background much more humble than the one lived in Mud Gulch, Maine. His goals for me were that I take the ground he’d gained and climb even higher.
Those were some of the airs I’d spoken of to Rory the first night we’d met, the ones that could be so damn tiresome. But I’d embraced those airs. I’d gone all in and now they were part of my life, whether I liked it or not.
It’s why I’d felt so free in Mud Gulch, standing in that kitchen with Rory cooking and just being me. Out from under all the pressure and expectations. My parents wouldn’t even recognize that version of me.
Not that there could ever be a mention of Mud Gulch anyway since Rory had lied to my parents and many others about who she really was.
And so had I.
“Headache?” My father’s voice interrupted my thoughts. I looked up to see him strolling in the room. “Take a Tylenol, because there’s no time for a headache or anything else that might distract you for the briefest moment.” He gave me a smile though as he set a folder down before me and took a seat in one of the two chairs sitting in front of my desk.
Distract me? Too late. I was already helplessly distracted. “I know. I’m fine. I’ve got everything under control.”
He gave me a considering look, likely thinking about the rumors that were surely circulating about my public shows of distraction. But my dad didn’t give much credence to gossip. He looked at results. And despite my mind being elsewhere, my work hadn’t suffered. “I have no doubt. You always do. I know things have been intense lately. There’s a lot of money on the line, and a whole team of people depending on you. But, Gage, son, there’s no one more capable of turning this venture into a success than you.”
“Thanks, Dad.” I mustered a smile that he didn’t seem to notice was forced.
He gestured to the folder. “Those are the contractor schedules for the London property. Keep them handy in case you need to reference them. The schedule is tight. We can’t afford to let anything slip through the cracks.” My dad leaned forward. “But I have good news. The London team working under you is flying in for our Fourth of July party. You’ll get the chance to meet them in a more relaxed setting. That way you’ll all be familiar, and you can really hit the ground running when you arrive in Westminster.”
I nodded, my eyes drifting away. The Fourth of July party. The Metropolitan Club threw a big shindig every year, complete with a professionally run fireworks show. I’d thought about inviting Rory, but then I’d hesitated because Blakely and her parents were going to be there like they were every year. I’d already decided that I wasn’t going to take Blakely up on her proposal. Frankly, my heart wasn’t in it, and I lacked the will to try. But it’d be awkward nonetheless. Nothing was clear-cut and feelings were likely to get hurt if I didn’t keep the different parts of my life separate.
