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My heart stutters. “What did you say?”
“I love you, Pokey. I don’t know why she called Smuckers that, you know, there at the end. I never heard her call him that, but it had to be Smuckers she was talking to. Smuckers is a little pokey, you have to admit.”
I swallow past the lump in my throat.
“What is it?” she asks, looking up into my eyes.
“Thank you,” I say.
“For what?”
I pull her to me, dizzy with the whooshing ocean and this beautiful woman and my bittersweet heart. “Just…all of it.”
That night, Brett begins his texting assault. He has juicy information from the PI to share. I tell him I’m not interested—the last thing I want to do is to shatter the trust between us. Vicky will tell me things when she’s ready.
Brett won’t let up. Eventually I just block his ass. He’ll be pissed, but I want this time away. My assistant will let me know if there’s a corporate situation to deal with.
The competency hearing is scheduled, of course. But I’ve decided to call it off.
She’s assured me things will be made right. I trust her to do the right thing. I trust us to figure out a way forward together. And whatever Vicky’s hesitation is about us being together, I’ll overcome it.
I’ll call off the hearing when the mediators are back in the office on Tuesday, and then I’ll tell her.
There’s a fireworks show on Monday night. Carly and Bess go up to catch it at Cooper’s Beach. I’ve arranged a candlelight dinner on the veranda.
Vicky is stretched out on the bench seat next to me, leaning back against me, feet splayed out to the side. She has on a pink skirt and gold sandals that look good with her yellow blouse. She’s been wearing brighter colors, but this is really different, the result of shopping in town with the girls. She looks good in colors. It seems right for her. The jewelry she makes is colorful. Why not her clothes?
A boom sounds from up above, followed by some smaller ones. “I’m glad the fireworks are going off behind us,” I say. “Because if they were right out there over the water? I’d have to arrest myself for multiple cliché violations.”
“The foam on the waves is just as bright. It looks almost neon,” she says, staring out at the water in the moonlight.
“It’s the phosphorescence.” I toss a piece of steak to Smuckers.
She pulls on my lapels like she does when she wants me to come close and kiss her. “Come here.”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Vicky
We arrive back late. Exhausted. Henry sleeps at my place, because I don’t want to leave Carly.
I feel sheepish about the state of it, but at least it’s clean. He seems to like it just fine. And who cares?
This thing is over, anyway. It’s what I keep telling myself.
His birthday is on Friday. I need to be out of his life before then—that’s the promise I’ve made to myself. And if he’s sad, well, he’ll get the papers to restore his company.
It’s the right thing to do for Carly.
And it’s the only way to keep Vonda’s toxic PR from bringing him down. And the people of Locke who depend on him. It’s the right thing for Vonda.
There’s a board meeting scheduled for the morning—it’s unclear who called it—Henry thinks Kaleb called it, because the agenda is about the timeline for the Ten, and maybe hiring an extra outside team to expedite the redesign, and there’s something about utilities. Because buildings are apparently more complicated than just building a thing—you have to figure out how it hooks up to everything else.
We drop Carly at school and head to the office in the back of a limo with Smuckers in a flowered carrier on the seat beside us.
Henry pulls me onto his lap. “Have I told you how hot you are recently?”
I kiss his lower lip, then his upper lip. They’re little suck-kisses, a technique I pioneered over the sex marathon that was Labor Day weekend. I kiss him again.
