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Her packed bags sat beside her, ready to be stowed, but a thick afternoon fog was moving in fast. The drive back to LA would be both treacherous and torturous if she was forced to maneuver through thick pea soup.
May Gray, they called it. More like May Gravy.
SoCal spring was ever changeable, she thought. Just yesterday at this time, she and Jojo were skipping in the sunshine, flitting from boutiques to bars.
At the thought of Jojo Thatcher, guilt gave her a hefty pinch. She hadn’t said goodbye to the other woman.
Or to Miranda and Vic Thatcher, who had been so kind and inclusive.
Then there was Alec. No way had she wanted to see him again, though. She’d said her piece, explained the world according to Lilly Durand, and he’d let her go.
It was a relief. Now she could drive home, hit an ATM, then head over to her aunt and uncle’s apartment. She hadn’t called back to make any promises to Frank, but she was convinced this was the best strategy.
Give them the money they wanted, get them off her back.
A little voice nagged that until she said no there’d be ever more demands, and she occupied herself by arguing with it. A single woman had only so much energy with which to tackle life. If she took the easiest path—the one of least resistance—when it came to this hindrance, she wasn’t going to beat herself up about it.
That she occasionally took to punching her pillows…
“Lilly.”
For a moment she ascribed it to her continuing inner conversation. But when her name was said again, she glanced around.
Alec. Her heart climbed into her throat and she felt her cheeks go hot. He looked relaxed in a pair of jeans and long-sleeved white T-shirt, advertising a surf competition. His handsomeness appeared more austere than usual, his jaw smoothly shaved and his cheekbones casting shadows. His dark eyes watched her, alert and hyperaware, as if he was attempting to count her pulse beats.
It was his sister Jojo, however, who had said her name.
“Lilly, what are you doing?” the other woman asked now.
“I was going to text,” she said, focusing on Jojo’s face, trying to calm herself despite Alec’s serious regard. “When I got back to LA.”
“You’re leaving? But we have the big party tomorrow night,” Jojo protested. “You have the smokin’ dress.”
It sat in its garment bag, draped over one of her suitcases. She gestured to it. “I’ll find occasion to wear it some other time.” Lie. “I have to get home tonight, though. They’re bringing a car around for me any minute.”
Jojo shot a quick glance at her brother, then bit her lip. “I…um…” Another look at Alec, then she turned her gaze on Lilly. “The puppy’s missing.”
He turned to his sister, his brows drawing together. “Jo—”
“Buster?” Lilly asked, alarmed. She shot to her feet, her hand going to her chest. “What happened?”
Jojo flung out an arm. “We don’t really know,” she said, talking fast. “He was there, and then he wasn’t.”
“The staff has experience with situations like this,” Lilly said, searching for the nearest employee. “Earlier this week it was a boa constrictor.” At Jojo’s startled expression, she added, “Stuffed.”
“Well. I’m going to get them on the job right away,” Jojo said. “But you…”
“Jojo,” Alec growled.
“Me, what?” Lilly asked, thinking of the adorable dog, so trusting and warm. Proof that Miranda Thatcher’s grief had abated and she had taken a chance on love again. “What can I do? Just ask.”
“No, Jo,” Alec said, his gaze on his sister.
“She wants to help,” Jojo protested.
“I want to help,” Lilly echoed, appealing to the man. Then she turned back to his sister. “Where have you searched?”
“We could use somebody checking out the beach,” Jojo said without a blink.
Lilly felt a clutch at her chest. “Would he have gotten that far?” Could a puppy that age swim?
“Don’t know.” Jojo shrugged. “But if you and Alec could head there…”
“Of course,” Lilly said, and shoved her suitcases closer to the rental desk. Then she turned and began fast-walking from the lobby.
