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Before Drew could change her mind and head back to her truck, a man answered the door. She’d never seen him before.
“Who are you?” the man asked with a frown.
“My name’s Drew. I’m looking for Maisie Sullivan.”
“Donna!” the man shouted, his already brisk mood shifting darker as he yelled into the apartment. He turned back to Drew and fixed her with a look that said she was public enemy number one. “Not sure she wants to talk to you.”
At least that means I found her.
“Fair enough.” Drew had spent the entire drive from Wyoming preparing herself for that possibility. Even so, it tore a hole in her to hear someone else say it. “I just hope she’ll hear me out.”
“Erik, who’s there?” came a woman’s voice, presumably belonging to Donna, whom Drew vaguely remembered from that day in front of Maisie’s old apartment building. In fact, that had been how Drew got the lead on where to start looking for Maisie, by recalling the woman’s first name and checking on the Taite and Greene website until she found a match.
“It’s that woman you said might be showing up.”
They were expecting her? That was an interesting turn of events. Had Maisie wanted Drew to come after her? The possibility gave Drew hope. There was hushed whispering inside, and for a moment, it sounded to Drew like she might not win this battle. What would she do then, to have come so far only to fall short of her goal?
I won’t give in.
“It’s okay, Erik. Let her in,” Maisie’s voice was barely recognizable.
Erik locked his eyes onto Drew for a long second before stepping aside. There was a warning in his eyes, an unspoken promise that if Drew caused any trouble, she’d be tossed out on her ear. Drew longed to rush to Maisie, but when she entered the living room, she found Maisie’s friends flanking her and giving even stronger death glares than the man at the door had.
“What’d you want?” Donna barked, tensing like she was ready for a fight.
“To speak to Maisie.” Drew plucked the hat from her head and held it respectfully to her chest. “Please.”
“It’s okay, Donna, Cheryl,” Maisie said, her voice calm and low. “I’ll be fine.”
Did either of Maisie’s friends honestly think Drew would lay a finger on Maisie? Drew had no intention to, of course, but if she had, she certainly would’ve rethought it. Both Donna and Cheryl were giving her looks like if Drew tried anything they didn’t like, she wouldn’t make it out of the apartment alive.
After more assurance from Maisie, the two women left them alone in the room, though Drew suspected they were within earshot. She would have done the same in their position. In an odd way, Drew was glad to know Maisie had all these people in her court.
“How did you find me?” Maisie asked.
“Bloodhound is my middle name,” Drew joked, hoping that would thaw Maisie’s icy expression. In fact, it only hardened it. “I came to apologize. I said things that were totally unacceptable. Cuckoo-crazy, in fact. This”—she pulled Maisie’s presentation from her bag, which she’d been sure to pack before leaving the ranch—“is brilliant, but I can’t implement any of your plans for the ranch without your help.”
There’d been a flicker of warmth in Maisie’s eyes, but it disappeared by the time Drew came to the end of her speech. “I see. You would like me to follow you back to the ranch to continue my role as your marketing expert.”
It didn’t take Drew long to realize where she’d gone wrong. “Not as my marketing expert, Maisie.” Drew clasped her hands together. She was still standing, and as much as she wanted to rush to the couch and pull Maisie into her arms, something about the woman’s expression told her not to dare. “I want you to come back to the ranch as my wife, who also happens to be a brilliant business woman.”
“We’re not married anymore.” Maisie’s gaze was unnervingly level, almost like none of this bothered her at all. Drew feared she’d miscalculated, and a desperate feeling clawed at the inside of her chest. “I signed the papers.”
“Without a notary,” Drew countered, as if somehow she could win on a technicality.
“That’s easily rectified.”
It seemed that everything Drew said only solidified Maisie’s anger.
“Can I sit?” Drew waved to the couch.
Maisie nodded, but she slid to the opposite end as Drew approached. Her body language said she was determined to put as much distance between them as possible.
Drew lowered onto the couch, nearly falling, given how low it was to the ground. “I’m really sorry, Maisie. The way I acted—it was wrong. So very wrong. I’ve learned somethings in the past day or so, things I should have seen all along, but I was blind to the truth.”
“Like what?” Maisie’s attitude didn’t soften, but at least she wasn’t shutting down.
“How I push people away, women especially, because I’m too fearful if I get close, they’ll leave like my mom did.”
