Page 37 of After We Fall

“The what?”

“The high hat cymbals.”

I search the stage. “The two cymbals that look like a hamburger?”

“Yeah,” he says, a hint of humor in his voice.

A plump woman in the row in front of us glares over her shoulder. “Hush.”

I offer a polite smile, and she refocuses forward. “I cannot believe you got us in trouble,” I say to Luke out of the corner of my mouth.

He winks at me. “It might do you good to get in a little trouble sometimes.”

Laughter. Beauty. A little trouble sometimes. Why is it that the man who is supposed to protect me this week scares me to death?

Luke and I pause our discussion and stand in silence while the song winds down.

The director takes the stage to welcome everyone. He asks us to turn to someone next to us and greet them this evening.

Luke runs his hands over his face, sighs, and turns to me. “All right. I need the lay of the land this week. I know what you’re working on and where you’ll be. What about Tanya’s and Bianca’s schedules?”

“Tomorrow they’ll go back to their respective jobs and chores around the house.” I fold my to-do list, running the edge between my finger and thumbnail to reinforce the crease. “Other than job searching and packing my belongings, our week will be relatively normal. I don’t expect any surprises.”

“Don’t you think it’s a little premature to be packing? I wouldn’t be so sure Harlan and Meredith will accept your resignation.”

I angle my body toward him, shielding Tanya and Bianca from our conversation. “Keep your voice down. I don’t want the girls to know anything is wrong. If I were the Holcombes, I would fire me. It’s simple. I didn’t do my job. And I accept the consequences.”

“That doesn’t even make sense. You can’t control Finley. That’s not on you.”

He opens his mouth to continue, but I blurt, “Luke, I was going to ask for a promotion.”

He says nothing, and I sigh. “I wanted to be the program director at Twelve Bluebells. This was it. This was my big trial run to show the Holcombes I could handle the job, and I failed. They won’t hire me for that position, and then what am I supposed to do? Stay in a job that no longer fulfills me?”

“I didn’t know you had so much riding on this week.”

I curl a stray hair around my ear. No one knew I had so much riding on this week.

“I still think you need to talk to Harlan and Meredith. They sing your praises. Their response might surprise you.” He studies my face. “Are you going to go after Finley? Try to talk to her?”

Of course I am. This is not up for debate.

Catching the eye of an elderly man sitting behind us, I plaster a fake smile on my face. “Good evening. So glad you’re here.”

The man returns my greeting.

Before I can find another way to avoid the conversation with Luke, he wraps his hand around mine. “Penelope. Are you going to try to track down Finley this week?”

His hand is warm. Strong. And a flash of wanting to hold tight shoots straight through me.

Instead, with an uppity air about me, I lie straight through my teeth. “No. I’m not going to try to find Finley.”

Luke’s eyes narrow and he releases his hold. “Marcus is not your biggest fan. If you go looking for Finley, I need to be with you.”

“Well, this might not be the time to discuss this, but I think your services are no longer needed. You’re relieved of your duties and can leave the ranch. We’ll be fine.” I ignore his glare. “The wedding went well, and there have been no other signs of vandalism or other such threats. It’s been peaceful at Twelve Bluebells, and it seems we’re in the clear from any impending danger.”

Crackling anger emanates from him. “This is my job.”

“I know, Luke. You’re checking off the boxes,” I say, throwing his words from two days ago back in his face. “All I’m saying is, you’ve completed the list. You can go now.”