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CHAPTER FIFTY-FIVE
Heather stood in the middle of her aunt’s kitchen, trying to make sense of what had happened, replaying in her mind the one-sided conversation she’d just overheard. But it was difficult when you were only privy to half of what was being said. And you were stoned. She tried taking it apart, piece by piece, then filling in the blanks.
“What’s the matter, Mom?”she heard Paige say.“What? No! Not again.”
Okay, so it had initially appeared as if Paige’s mother was in some sort of trouble, and it wasn’t the first time.
“I don’t understand. Has something happened to Harry?”
Who the hell was Harry?
“In Cambridge? What are you doing there? Oh, God. It’s Chloe, isn’t it?”
Okay, so Auntie Joan was all right, and so was this Harry, whoever the hell he was. It was Chloe. Something bad had happened to Chloe.
So, not so bad after all, Heather thought.
“What?What?”Emphasis on the secondwhat.“How is that possible? Who…? Oh, God. Is she…Is she still alive?”
So, whatever had happened to Chloe was not only bad, it was life-threatening. It was so serious that Paige had grabbed her purse and torn out of the apartment like it was on fire, leaving Heather without an explanation or a second thought.
“What’s happening?” Heather had called after her. “Where are you going?”
But the only response she’d received was the sound of a slamming door.
So rude,Heather thought now, as she’d thought then. And what could be so terrible, so urgent? It had to be an accident of some sort. Maybe Chloe had been hit by a car while crossing the street, or been involved in a head-on collision with a Mack truck. Maybe she was the victim of a purse-snatching gone bad, or a break-in at her home. Maybe she’d been attacked, beaten, maybe even raped…
Whatever,Heather thought, suppressing an unexpected twinge of concern. She wasn’t going to waste time worrying about Chloe. Not after the little stunt she’d pulled, making her drive out to Cambridge in the middle of a workday, only to be humiliated and sent packing, which made her at least partly responsible for Heather losing her job. It would be silly to waste her tears on such an undeserving friend, she thought, impatiently wiping away the few she felt forming.
Whatever had happened, no matter how bad it was, Chloe would pull through. Despite her delicate exterior, the woman had a core of steel. She’d survive. There was no reason for concern. There were more pressing things to worry about.
Heather felt her stomach rumble, reminding her that she hadn’t eaten all day. She’d fled her parents’ house almost as fast as Paige had fled the condo, if you didn’t count the five minutes it had taken her to smoke a joint, leaving most of her belongings behind. What the hell, she’d thought as she was backing her car out of her parents’ driveway, narrowly missing smashing into the ornate wrought-iron fence surrounding the front lawn. She’d get her mother to cart over the rest of her things after she’d settled in somewhere. Or better yet, she just might treat herself to a whole new wardrobe at Daddy’s expense.
After all, how could she be expected to make a good impression on prospective employers without the proper wardrobe?
And while Ted Hamilton might be a heartless jackass, when push came to shove, he wasn’t going to let his only daughter live on the streets. His pride, his good name and reputation, would never allow that.
Neither would her mother.
If and when Heather ran short of money, she knew she could count on her mother to persuade her father to give her more.
So,she thought, walking to the fridge and opening it,not so dumb after all.
There was a big bowl of fresh, plump blueberries and another one of luscious-looking raspberries on the fridge’s middle shelf, and Heather brought both bowls to the counter, eating the berries with her fingers, until there were none left. That should keep her for another hour, she thought, until she figured out where to spend the night. Maybe she’d go back to the Four Seasons, order room service, have a much-needed massage. It was almost six o’clock. She’d spent half the afternoon aimlessly driving around, trying to decide her next move, before stopping on a side street somewhere in the city’s South End and smoking some more weed. Which had led to the dubious decision to have it out with Paige. Which led to her spending the better part of an hour freezing in the overly air-conditioned lobby of her aunt’s building, waiting for her cousin to come home. She was exhausted. Tomorrow would be soon enough to start looking for an apartment.
The more immediate worry was where the hell she’d parked her car.
Maybe instead of looking for an apartment, she’d visit a travel agent, inquire about that trip to Europe she’d tossed at Paige earlier. Not that she’d ever had much curiosity about Europe, or any burning desire to go. The truth was that she’d rather go lie on a beach somewhere, but God, the look on Paige’s face!
“You don’t think you should start looking for an apartment and another job?”she’d asked, sounding every bit as tight-assed and judgmental as Heather’s father.So maybe we really were switched at birth,Heather thought.
“I’m sorry you’re hurting,”she heard Paige say.
“Sure you are,” Heather said now, hearing the ping of a text message come through on Paige’s cell. “Well, what do you know? You took off so fast, you forgot your stupid phone.” She sidled over to where it lay charging on the counter and picked it up, then stole a glance over her shoulder, as if Paige had snuck back into the apartment and was hiding in the corner, watching to see what she woulddo.
“No need to hide,” she said out loud, as if Paige were in the room. “I’m happy to show you.” Heather checked the phone to see the beginning of a message from someone calling himself Mr. Right Now.
Hey, Wildflower.
