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"Give it time, Lachlan. She's been through a lot. Let the girl decompress before you pull more strings to find a new career for her."
"Sorry. I know you're right."
A few weeks later, Deb rings me with shocking news. "I thought you'd want to know. Erica went to see Presley Cichon today. He was arrested for the crime he tried to frame Erica for, and now that he's out on bond, he asked if she would visit him at home."
"What did the scunner want?"
"To apologize. His parents have taken away his trust fund, and he's now living with his sister and her children. Presley's parents are paying Erica a settlement to compensate her for everything he did to her. Not that money can change that."
I wince. That's what I've been doing, isn't it? Trying to buy her forgiveness with lawyers and gifts and bloody stupid notes. None of that matters, does it? The answer is no. I need to tell her how I feel, face to face.
Eight weeks is long enough to wait.
"Thank you for letting me know, Deb," I say. "But I need to say goodbye so I can make arrangements to fly to America."
"About damn time." She says those words with affection. "Get your butt over here, Lachlan. You two have sulked for long enough."
"Aye, we have. It's time for action."
"Good boy."
Three hours later, I'm on a jet and in the air, flying to Erica.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
The next morning, at ten o'clock Chicago time, I walk up the concrete path to Erica's door. I'd arrived in America at seven o'clock UK time, but that meant it was one a.m. local time, so I had to wait until I knew Erica would be awake. Aye, she would've woken up well before ten, but I wasted a ridiculous amount of time deciding what to wear and what to say once I see her. The clothing I sorted. As for what to say…
I haven't got a bloody clue.
Casey starts barking on the other side of the door, but it sounds like a happy bark, not the way he snarled at thecacanPresley. Casey's barking becomes whimpering and then he gives a little chuff like he can't wait for his mistress to open the door.
It swings inward, and I see Erica for the first time in two months. Watching her from afar in the courtroom didn't count.
She smiles, but it's a bland expression she might give to a stranger. She stands straight as a board, her shoulders back.
I'm standing the same way, but it's anxiety tightening my whole body. My pulse beats so fast I feel slightly weak in the knees, and I have to remind myself to breathe. Despite her impersonal demeanor, the sight of Erica makes me want to pull her into my arms and kiss her while spewing romantic nonsense about how much I love her.
She says nothing. Just gazes at me with dispassion.
I ball my hands into fists, then flex my fingers in an attempt to relax. "Good morning."
That's all I can manage to say.
"What do you want?" she asks.
Never have I heard Erica sound so…cool and unaffected.
It's bollocks. I know that. Still, my shoulders slump, and I shove a hand through my hair. "Please, Erica, let me talk to you. Please."
She wrenches the doorknob, fingers tight, the knob clicking with each half revolution, back and forth, back and forth.Click, click, click. She gnaws on the inside of her lip.
Casey pushes between us to leap up on me.
Well, at least the pup is glad to see me. Since Erica is still gnawing on her lip, I know her cool composure is an act. She must feel as anxious and confused as I do. I scratch behind Casey's ears, but it's a half-hearted reflex. The pup scampers back into the house and straight to the sofa where he jumps onto the cushions and plants his chin on the sofa's back, observing us.
Is that blood I see on her lip? I reach out to touch it, and my thumb comes away spotted with red. "You're bleeding."
"It's nothing."
