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I’d been the dumb schmuck who’d let her go free.
The cop blinked back at me, equally as surprised by my equanimity. “That’s all right, sir,” he told me, his accent thick and clogged with that bumpkin sound unique to Maine.
I’d missed it.
“Just make sure your license is arranged as soon as possible.”
I reared back. Seriously? He was letting me go.
I cleared my throat. “I appreciate that, officer.”
The man tapped his cap, then headed back to his vehicle. I waited for him to get behind the wheel and take off, letting two cars separate us before I headed back onto the road too.
Shit, that had been a close call.
Not that I couldn’t afford the ticket now. I could, but still, it would have been a bitch to arrange.
Especially as I couldn’t entrust it to Tiffany anymore.
Thank Christ she was on maternity leave now. I only hoped that when the baby popped out, my ever-competent PA would be back to normal.
Somehow, I doubted it.
Women changed after they had a baby, didn’t they? They became all mushy. Lost their hard edge. At forty-two, I’d been surprised at Tiffany’s news. Had expected her to remain the bulldog she’d always been. Over the past four months, she’d mo
rphed into a mother hen.
Had even bitched at me over how much coffee I was drinking.
I rolled my eyes at the memory, and then, I stopped thinking about Tiffany because I was entering the township and it was exactly the fucking same as it had always been.
Jesus.
This place hadn’t changed a bit.
Arranged around a square with a memorial in the center for soldiers lost to the many wars the US had fought in, a list that was way too long for such a small town, I couldn’t believe how it was like going back in time.
The post office was there, as was the mom and pop restaurant, the pharmacy, and the Mexican and Italian restaurants that had popped up in my first year of school. I could see the IHOP in the distance, then let my gaze drift across the small grocery store that most people bypassed for the nearest Walmart thirty minutes away and yet was still going strong…
The nostalgia and the feels this place gave me was, beyond a doubt, weird.
A good weird, I guessed. But still, bizarre nonetheless.
I was here for work but maybe also pleasure.
I lived at my job, pretty much. Life was bland when it came down to anything other than the excitement of my career. So, this two-week potential break I was taking for myself was more than unusual—the VP, the man I answered to, had nearly choked on his coffee when I’d put in the request.
He’d told me to take three weeks, and a real vacation somewhere, but I’d figured that was too much. Truth was, you knew you were working too many hours when even your bosses were obsessing over your hours.
I guessed, in a way, it was proof of how large of an asset I was to the team. A fact that filled me with satisfaction.
Rubbing my chin, I set my GPS for another destination. I’d had it programmed to take me to the town center, for old times sake. Now, I was intending to deal with work first then maybe get some downtime in.
The drive out of the town toward the Gandy residence took barely fifteen minutes. As the GPS led me out of the center, I picked up the markers, so I wouldn’t have to use the GPS again, and found my way relatively easily to the front gates of a large estate.
Eying it from behind the grand cast iron fencing, I whistled under my breath.
This was why I’d had to come and visit Gandy myself. He should have come to the New York office; it would have been a damn sight easier all told. But, when an assistant had emailed me and told me that Gandy was pretty much a recluse, and then had listed his address… Well, I had to come.
