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Her smile falters, her eyes flicker with disappointment. Shame makes my skin prickle, and my ear tips hot. My mother would slap the shit out of me if she heard me talk like this. And after everything I put her through…I don’t have a right to lash out. “I’m sorry,” I say quietly and drop my guilty gaze to the ground. My heart thuds so loud I’m sure she can hear it.
“He doesn’t even know…”
Her voice is so low I’m not sure I heard her right. My head snaps up. “What?”
Her expression is full of so many emotions I can’t read it. “I’m sorry about some of the thing I said to you. I was upset, and a lot of it was pent up stuff I never got to say.”
I shake my head, dismissing her apology. “I know that. You don’t have anything to apologize for. It’s me who is fucking sorry for everything.”
“Don’t be. Everything happens as it should.
If she’d hit me in the chest with a ton of bricks it would have hurt less.
“Carter, I gotta get going soon,” Loretta calls out behind me. I growl in frustration. If this isn’t bad timing I don’t know what is.
“I need to talk to her. Can you wait?” I ask.
She shakes her head but holds out a piece of paper. I take it without a word.
Then she turns and walks back to her car, and I’m sorely tempted to run after her.
This was the only day this week Loretta could meet. And I know if I don’t talk to her now I might not get another chance. And what I need to know can’t wait.
So I slip that piece of paper in my pocket, deep enough it can’t work its way out, and turn back to go to Loretta. But she comes bursting out the door before I even take two steps.
I chuckle, amused by the urgent look on her face and how fast she’s walking. “Hungry?” I ask when we reach each other.
She purses her lips and blows out a dismissive breath. “Forget lunch, Romeo. I want to know what you’re doing with that girl? Your father hated Wolfe even more than I do. He would blow a gasket if he could see it.” She presses her hands together and raises them to her pursed lips and shudders.
Oh, don’t I know it. My throat tightens at the memory of the conversation I had with him about Beth. It wasn’t one of the things on my list to talk to her about, but now I need to know what he refused to tell me.
“Why did he dislike them so much?”
Her eyes dart around the empty parking lot, and when they come back to me they’re solemn. “Honestly, I don’t know. I think it had something to do with his sister. She worked for the family?”
I narrow my eyes at her, skeptical of her as a source. “My father was an only child.”
She crosses her arms over her chest and raises an eyebrow. “Is that what he told you? Damn Loren. He never forgave her for working for Wolfe. She was older than him, and they had different mothers, but they grew up in the same house. Her name was Sasha.”
Each sentence pings around my startled mind, but I focus enough to ask more question. “Where is she?”
She gives a short shrug. “Who knows. She left town not long after he did without so much as a goodbye.”
I’m too stunned to speak, but I’m sure I’d find my tongue if I could get Penn on the phone right now. I’m bursting to find out how much she knows.
Loretta shakes her head, a nostalgic smile on her face. “Her and your father, they were born for more than Winsome could ever give. So, how do you know Elisabeth?”
Her expression is all casual curiosity, but I’m not fooled. She’s chomping at the bit for Wolfe flavored gossip, and not because she intends to keep it to herself. “I’m buying a piano from her. She was playing hardball with the price.”
“Oh.” Her shoulders slump. “Then you don’t really know her at all.”
“No, other than who her father is.”
She grimaces. “That man, cold as ice. Didn’t even cry at his daughter’s funeral. Didn’t try to console that poor girl. She was beside herself and so alone. You know, even her mother didn’t come for the funeral.”
That shakes me back to attention. “She didn’t? Wow. I can’t even imagine that.”
“Yeah. Cold hearted,” she drawls in agreement. “She lives in France with some man they say is young enough to be her son.”
