I pivot and head for my office where I shut my door, lock it, and dial the number I recall from memory. Straight to voicemail. Again. And again.
“Pick up, Bea.” It comes out shredded. I scrub a hand down my face and do the next thing on the list: Maeve.
She answers before the first ring as if she’s been waiting with her finger on the screen.“If you’re calling to ask where my sister is, start with sorry.”
“I am sorry,” I say, forgetting my pride. “I’m an idiot. I said the wrong thing to the only person who stuck with me and started changing my life.”
Silence.
“So you did say something.”
“Wait, what? You don’t know why she left?”
“Now I do, asshole!”she bellows through the phone.“I just got my sister back, and you did something to her! I knew it!”
“I did,” I say. “I was an ass to her at my mother’s, and I’m sorry. I’m fixing it. Where is she?”
A long beat passes. I can hear her breathing. It’s jittery, pissed, and protective. As it should be. We all should be; we all failed Bea. Starting with me, when I didn’t defend her in front of her parents.
“She texted me. Said she loves me and not to panic. Then ghosted. I assume she’s flying somewhere because she knows I’d find her anywhere in the city. So I asked for her flight info; she didn’t send it.”
“Maeve.” I press my fingers into my brow until stars spark. “Please.”
Another pause. Then she mutters words that I’m ashamed to repeat.“She turned her read receipts off. I can’t help you here. And quite honestly, I don’t want to.”
I pull in a heavy breath. “I understand.”
“Do you though? I like you, Noah. You are the brother I’ve never had, and you did me a solid before, but I’m too pissed at you to help you right now.”
I swallow all my words instead of replying. She sighs loudly.
“Fuck.”Another sigh.“Why are you even bothered with her departure? What is it to you?”
“Because I love her.”
“You don’t even—Wait, what?”
“I love your sister and regret not saying it to her before.”
The silence that follows is suffocating and not promising at all.
“Oh, man. You King brothers don’t know how to communicate at all, do you?”
I don’t respond to that because the question is self-explanatory. “What do I do now, Maeve?” I’m not above pleading. “Tell me what. Please.”
She hums to herself for a moment before replying.“You apologize. You don’t make it about you. Let her decide, because she’s never had this opportunity.”
“What if she doesn’t want to listen to me?”
“Then you leave her be.”
“Do you have any other advice on this regard?”
She chuckles.“I forgot that you are a King. Do what you need to to convince her you are a dumbass.”
“I don’t think she’ll need much convincing there.”
“Fair point,”she laughs.“But I think you stand a fair chance. She was very fidgety and mysterious when I asked her about you, so I’d say you’ve got a chance.”
