“Let me sit on it. I’ve got Patty down at the agency looking for someone new to manage the books temporarily while Janet is on maternity leave. Once I get the numbers straight, I’ll decide from there.”
“Okay. I’ll wait for your call. In the meantime, is there anything else you need me to take a look at before I head out?”
“You and Lori got a hot date tonight?” I poke fun at the older man whom I’ve known basically my entire life.
“Even better. London’s coming home.”
In an instant, the world around me skids to an abrupt stop, the momentum damn near throwing me to the ground.
“Is that right?” I do everything in my power to make my voice sound casual, normal, but in my own ears, it’s anything but. “She finally decided to pop in for a visit?” My way of asking how long she will be here without sounding too interested.
I’m not interested.
Not even a little bit.
Or at least, that’s what I’ll continue to tell myself.
“Even better, she’s here to stay. Well, at least for the foreseeable future anyway.”
My heart kicks violently against my ribs.
London Voss.
The one that got away.
My first love.
The girl who tore me to pieces and didn’t even bother to look back to see the damage she had left in her wake.
That last day replays in my head for the millionth time over the last seven years.
Her telling me she was leaving. So matter-of-fact. I knew she wanted to go to New York one day to pursue dance, but I always assumed that when she did, she’d ask me to go with her, not end our four-year relationship with nothing more thanI’m sorry.
That’s what four years of my life were worth to her. AnI’m sorry- the most generic breakup line ever spoken into existence.
She wasn’t sorry. Not for a second. If she were, she wouldn’t have left the way she did. Not after everything.
“Oh yeah?” I swallow past the lump in my throat that makes it hard to breathe, let alone speak. “What happened to New York?”
“You know what they say about big-city dreams. They rarely come true.” He’s as vague as ever when it comes to his daughter,on the rare occasion that he talks about her to me at all. Which I get and truthfully, I appreciate.
I don’t care what she’s doing or how she is.
Lies. Lies. Lies.
If I’m being honest with myself, London Voss has been living rent free in my head for the last seven years. I think about where she is. If she thinks about me. If she regrets leaving the way she did. If she’s accomplished her dreams of being a dancer in the New York City Ballet.
But that’s all I’ve done—thought about her. I haven’t tried to contact her. Haven’t followed her on any social media platforms—not that I have any; I don’t. Haven’t tried to pry information out of her parents. At the end of the day, I wasn’t enough for her to stay. A fact I won’t soon forget, no matter how much time has passed.
“I think that’s true about most dreams,” I finally say.
“Ain’t that the truth.” His shoulders shake with silent laughter. “When I was young, I wanted to be a doctor.”
“What happened?” I ask, too polite to say that picturing him as a doctor is about as comical as it sounds. Not because he’s not capable. It’s just... Well, he’s Rand.
“Couldn’t stand the sight of blood.” This time, he laughs out loud, the corners of his mouth turning up in a smile.
“Well, I wanted to own a custom bike shop. Not that owning a bike shop compares much in the way of being a doctor. But alas, you see how far that’s gotten me.”
