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Braden spent the night in San Diego, mostly to prove to himself that there was no reason why he shouldn’t.
The next day was Saturday and because he had no meetings, he decided to take the coastal roads back up to L.A. rather than joining the masses on the freeway.
Life stretched like an open road in front of him and he was going to find out where it led. He drove leisurely, stopping to have coffee and a muffin at a little café set atop a cliff overlooking the ocean. Later he lunched at a burger joint across the street from where he got gas. He thought about what he wanted to do when Braden Property Management was up and running in L.A.
Traveling sounded somewhat appealing. He and Mallory had always talked about vacationing on a Greek island, going to Italy and Paris.
He thought about calling his mother, to let her know that he and Mallory were no longer friends, but she knew all she needed to know when they’d divorced three years ago.
She didn’t know about the twins. And now, all things going as planned, she wouldn’t.
Cruising in and out of small towns, he took his time, watching people on the street, knowing that they lived differently from him.
And from everyone else, too.
When he realized the ridiculousness of his thoughts, he turned up his music and blasted tunes from high school, singing along when he knew the words.
Catching an outside glimpse of how ridiculous he was behaving he turned the volume down.
Mallory used to drive with the music turned up. She’d pull into the driveway of his apartment complex and he’d know it before he saw her car because he could hear her pop rock songs blaring.
He couldn’t remember the last time she’d done that. At least when he was around.
Driving down a winding road, getting closer to the city, he slowed, not quite ready to arrive at his destination. The road narrowed as it turned sharply. Another car was coming and he had to get over toward the shoulder. His side had one, but the other side was blocked in by a rocky hill.
He took another hairpin turn, hugging the shoulder, and then it happened. He hit something.
Pulling off, he stopped his SUV, shaking as he looked in the rearview mirror. Something lay on the side of the road behind him. An animal. He couldn’t tell what it was or if it was breathing.
Oh, God.
Getting closer, he could see that he’d hit a dog, some kind of smaller shepherd. He’d had an Australian shepherd growing up. They’d had to put it down when he was fourteen and his sister was eleven. She and his mom had carried on so much that Braden had been forced to be the one who carried the dog into the vet’s office. And who’d dug the hole in the backyard to bury him. He’d had to act like it was no big deal or the two of them would never have stopped crying.
The animal on the road was still breathing but unconscious.
Scooping it up, he ran back to his SUV, laid it on the passenger seat and put the vehicle in gear.
It wasn’t until he was back on the road that he realized he had tears on his cheeks.
Chapter Twenty
On Monday, a week after she signed Braden’s custodial papers, Mallory was digging in her purse for ChapStick and came upon his key.
She’d forgotten she had it. Now she had to get it back to him.
Leaving it on her kitchen counter, she figured she’d put it in an envelope and mail it back to him.
But what if it got lost in the mail?
And how stupid was it to mail a key to the address it opened?
She didn’t know his hotel room number. Wasn’t even sure which of the properties owned by the chain he was at. They had two relatively close together near his L.A. property.
She could leave the key with William. That seemed the best choice.
Yet, what would he think, her leaving Braden’s key? Braden hated company gossip of any kind, which was why, until the past few months, they’d rarely seen each other at work.
That’s when she had her brai
