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“I didn’t want to disrupt your training,” Mom said. “Besides there was nothing you could do. It was a lot of waiting around for tests.” I didn’t think that was the point, but Mom seemed to have the same view as Dad. “You can come over to Nana’s house later,” Mom said, “we’ll be leaving the hospital soon. I’ll let you know when we get there. Did you eat dinner?”
“Yeah,” I muttered, my plan in turmoil, confounded by the fact that a heart attack wasn’t considered a big deal. I could hardly go back inside now and wait for Mom’s phone call.
Putting the car into drive, my decision was impulsive. I’d kill time by going to Sawyer’s house, maybe talk about the interview and wait for Millie to send the edited version, or suggest the hot tub.
Yeah, that’s what I told myself.
But the magnet that was pulling me to the Huntingtons?
Yep, I wanted to see Sierra.
Chapter 9
Sierra
Sawyer hadn’t stoppedtalking since we’d sat down at the dining table. Apparently he said this and then he said that, and Millie and Cullen had laughed, and he was a standout in front of the camera.
I was happy the interview went well, that Millie had expanded on my concept and that it was going to happen every night after training. Hopefully it would alleviate the pressure Cullen was under from his father.
The lights of a car shone through into our window, alerting us to a visitor.
Dad rose from his chair, muttering “Who’s that?” as Sawyer continued on with his monologue about how he was the star of the show.
“Cullen?”
Two sets of footsteps entered up the stairs into the dining room, causing my heart rate to elevate, cursing myself for not having showered as soon as I’d gotten home.
“Hi, sorry to interrupt dinner.” Cullen said sheepishly, but I instantly saw that something was wrong. His lowered head, the way he looked up from under his eyelashes—that was the Cullen from the other night in the car, the one who wasn’t as confident as he portrayed. Mom picked up on it too.
“Is everything okay, love?” she asked, halfway out of her chair.
“I dunno,” Cullen said, running his fingers through his hair, “my Granddad had a heart attack and is in the hospital.”
“Oh my, that’s no good.” Mom had approached him, had him in a hug. “Is he going to be all right?”
I pushed my chair back, wondering if I should console him too. I looked to Sawyer, hoping he’d make a move.
