Tilly
Three months later…
I wrung my hands together. Was it too obvious? My old boss couldn’t give me my original job back, but I was in his office begging for anything else he had available.
A yawn snuck up on me. I tried stifling it but had to cover my mouth. Months on the night shift and it was still brutal on my system. Add in weekdays full of cleaning rooms at a hotel and it equaled no days off.
Mr. Person watched me carefully. “The charges were dropped, you say?”
“Yes.” How’d I explain it and leave my personal life personal? “Um, the company the accuser was blackmailing,” my heart wrenched just thinking of Flynn, wondering what he was doing now, “took on the case, and after a thorough investigation, they discovered that Charlie’s mom, the child’s mom, was abusing him.”
It was over. My lawyer had even heeded my wishes and discussed the legal ramifications about lying to law enforcement with my parents. They’d retracted their claims and promised to never think about me again.
Yay, me. If it weren’t for Mrs. B, I would be absolutely and completely alone in the world.
Mr. Person pushed up his glasses, his features grim. “How is Charlie doing?”
“Good, actually. His dad’s a piece of work, pardon my opinion, but at least he’s fighting for his son.”
“What company was he blackmailing? Excuse the questions, but what you went through doesn’t happen every day, thank goodness.”
“Halstengard Industries.” It hurt to say it. I wrung my hands. “They parted ways, I guess.” Flynn’s lawyers had been excellent. The best money could buy, and unlike Mr. Woods’s county attorney, honest. And when Mr. Woods found out his wife was behind Charlie’s injuries, he’d diverted his attention to his divorce and trying to keep his wife from getting half their assets.
“Have you picked up any tutoring?”
I smiled sadly. “No. I’ve notified my former clients, but none of them have taken me back.” They’d moved on to another tutor, or the seed of doubt had been planted and they couldn’t bring themselves to trust me again. I couldn’t dwell on it. If I ruminated about all I’d lost in the last few months, I’d wither away in depression.
“Sorry to hear. You excel at working with the kids.” He spread his hands and my hopes sank. I knew what was coming next. “I’m sorry. We filled your position and we have a full house. Not even a paraprofessional slot open. I’ll certainly keep you in mind, and don’t hesitate to use me as a reference.”
I hid my dismay behind a smile and thanked him for his time. All of this could’ve been done over the phone, but I knew he’d wanted to meet with me and gauge how I’d changed, see if I was someone he’d offer a job to again.
I wandered out of the school where I used to spend my days. None of my kids were in the halls and I hadn’t the heart to request a visitor’s pass. Seeing them with their new teacher would be more bitter than sweet. I could only be so optimistic.
But I still had my teaching license and a clear record. That was a start.
This was my first full day off that didn’t include legal meetings. Whatever should I do?
Stop at Arcadia? Now that I had some change in my pockets, I could buy myself a pick-me-up. Mara had been paid back and Luna had said that if I tried to reimburse the law firm, it’d be a financial headache and to please let them keep it pro bono.
Only it hadn’t been. Flynn had footed the bill.
How was he doing?
Argh. I only asked myself that fifty times a day—on a slow day.
I’d meant it. I loved him. But after my childhood, security came first.
Had he gone back to old habits and women like Becky?
No, no shopping today. Mara called and checked on me constantly, but I needed that distance. The difficulty in not asking about Flynn grew harder each time.
For the end of October, the weather was lovely. I wore an old cardigan and slip-ons that I often didn’t get to wear when teaching because they were too boring. A walk, perhaps? I’d go home and change shoes and enjoy the weather before the wind turned so cold it hurt my face to be outside.
A refreshing walk sounded better and better as I drove home. I jogged inside and tossed off my sandals. In my room, I found socks in the basket of clean laundry I had no time to fold because I was always working. Stuffing my feet into my shoes I breezed outside and—
Ran into a solid chest.
“Whoa. Is there something wrong?”
That voice vibrated through my body straight down to my toes. I gasped and looked up. Flynn’s hands were on my shoulders.
Flynn’s hands were on my shoulders?
I jerked out of his reach and stumbled over the doorstep. He caught me again.
“Sorry,” I said and righted myself far out of his reach.
He seemed reluctant to let me go, or perhaps that was my wishful thinking.
An old shard of fear stuck in my throat. Was it not really over? Had it been a dream that I’d gotten some semblance of my life back? “What are you doing here?”
“I came to pick you up. I need to show you something.”
I stared at him. He came to pick me up when I happened to have a day off, the first in months? “Mara told you I was home.”
He nodded.
God, he looked good, but where was the suit? It was the middle of the week. He was wearing jeans and a cable-knit sweater that folded over at the neck. Very stylish, very casual. Very unlike Flynn.
“Aren’t you working today?” I asked.
“Yes, that’s why I’m here. Come on.” He turned and walked to his truck like he expected me to just follow. More like he knew the curiosity would get to me and I’d do what he asked.
The pang of seeing his truck sitting at my curb again
