Paxton studies me for a moment, something thoughtful softening his grin. “So what’s the plan? You just gonna mope forever, or you want me to help fix it?”
Not sure what he’d do that I haven’t already tried. I don’t have Millie’s number, not on my real phone, anyway. And Paxton snagged the house-sitting gig through some website. All communication went through their portal, so he never had Millie’s number or email. I even called the Crystal Cove vet clinic, hoping Dex might be able to help. But the woman who answered said both Dex and Dr. Ochoa will be out until next week. She didn’t know Knox, didn’t know me, and wasn’t about to pass along anyone’s number. Client confidentiality, she said, cheerfully ruining my day.
I lift a brow, chewing the last bite of my Monte Cristo. “As if you can fix heartbreak.”
“Please. I practically have a PhD in heartbreak recovery.” He sits forward, eyes brightening. “Now, you went to Vermont, right? His grandparents’ place?”
“Yeah.”
“So do you remember where?”
I hesitate. “Not exactly. But maybe…from the hospital. I think I could find the route if I saw landmarks again.”
Paxton grins like a plan’s already taking shape. “Then that’s it.ROADtrip!” His loud squeal and clapping startle a couple at the next table. “I’ll drive. We find the house, thenbam, your epic love story finale practically writes itself. Cue the swelling music, tearful kiss, and me graciously accepting Best Supporting Friend.”
I slurp my lemonade, head tilted as I consider my bestie’s offer. “Okay. But there’s a gala Friday night. Promised Dad I’d go.”
“No worries.” He shrugs, completely unbothered. “We’ll leave Saturday morning. Vermont or bust. And if this doesn’t work, you and I will take a trip to Crystal Cove and have a chat with Ms. Palmer.”
I shake my head, already beaming inside and out. Somewhere between the city noise and Paxton’s ridiculous optimism, the knot inside me loosens.
Sunlight shifts, gold tones dancing across the sun-warmed iron table, fragile, fleeting, as if my dark shades are suddenly rose-colored.
I lean back and take in the city that’s supposed to be my new beginning.
The world moseys on.
Maybe someday I will, too. If I can keep up with Paxton’s level of hope.
Crystals drip from chandeliers, light flickering over champagne flutes and sequined gowns. The ballroom glows like a heartbeat, all deep reds, golds, and upbeat jazz pulsing through the lustrous crowd.
I smooth a hand over the black satin of my gown, the silver strap glinting like armor polished for show.
Dad’s standing by the stage, laughing with a cluster of executives beneath a banner that reads Nora Beaumont Heart Health Awareness Gala – Presented by Beaumont Group. The logo, a gold heart encircled by light, beats across the massive LED screen like it’s alive.
I didn’t want to come. But Dad asked, and I couldn’t say no, especially when it’s for a good cause: raising awareness for the heart condition that took Mom from us.
Servers weave between tables with trays of sparkling wine, and for a second, I almost reach for one before remembering no alcohol, doctor’s orders. So I clutch a flute of seltzer instead, bubbles fizzing like nerves under my skin.
I drift toward the back of the room, slipping past silk gowns and practiced smiles, wishing I were anywhere else.
Crystal Cove. With Knox.
Where life still felt simple even when it wasn’t.
I make my way through the crowd, the hum of conversation wrapping around me.
Dad spots me before I reach him, grin spreading wide. “There she is.” He leans in, kisses my cheek, and squeezes my hand. “You look beautiful, sweetheart.”
“Thanks, Dad.”
His attention flicks past my shoulder. “Oh, perfect timing. Ryder’s here. You’ll be working together. You’ll like him.”
I turn—and my heart stops.
Knox.
He stands only a few feet away, immaculate in a tux that fits like a second skin, every inch of him composed and familiar. But his eyes, those gorgeous, unforgettable onyx eyes, betray him. Recognition. Shock. Maybe the same punch to the gut I’m feeling.
