Beyond Now: The Hutton Family Book 3

by Brooks, Abby

  It seemed Maisie was answering my question, even if she didn’t know it.

  How long are you staying?

  I’m not staying. In fact, I never really arrived and I’m already halfway out the door.

  “On what planet is a part in a movie a bad thing? Big or small?” Maisie yelled into the phone, pacing my living room. “His career has only existed for a hot minute, thanks to me. Anyone else would be thrilled to have this next step open up for them. Again, this step that opened up thanks to me.”

  As she argued into the phone, growing more tense by the minute, I sat cross-legged in a blanket fort, sipping wine next to an uneaten meal, and fighting all my instincts. If I had my way, I would pull that phone out of her hands, tell the man on the other end that no one spoke to Maisie that way, then hang up right before smashing the device against the wall.

  That last bit wouldn’t accomplish much and was a little over the top, but at that point, it sure would have felt good.

  The more she paced, the more foolish I felt. What had I expected would happen tonight? That I would make some goofy, childish gesture and she would abandon all the glitz and glam of the life she built for herself? On what planet was that an appropriate reaction to reuniting with an old friend with a ten-year-old phone? My life was slow and simple, and hers? Well, hers was on the opposite side of the country. I knew this was an inevitability, but had ignored the problem from the get go. I threw back the rest of my wine, then emptied the bottle into my glass.

  Maisie stopped pacing and everything about her went slack. Her lips parted and her jaw dropped. Her shoulders slumped and her brows drew together. I wanted to pull her close, to wrap her up and make everything better. Whatever was happening, whatever she just heard, I wanted to keep her safe from it, just like I kept her safe when we were kids.

  She hung up the phone and closed her eyes. Her lips quivered as she let out a long sigh. “That was my boss,” she said without opening her eyes.

  “I figured as much.”

  She bit her bottom lip. Then sucked both of them into her mouth. Then finally let out another long breath and opened her eyes. Tension thrummed along her body as she opened her mouth to say something that never made it past her throat.

  I patted the pillow beside me and gestured to her glass. The situation was maddening, but I couldn’t be mad at her. I’d asked her to stay and she did, even though she had to know it was going to make things difficult. What more could I want from her?

  Ignoring the voice in my head that whispered everything, I said, “It’s going to be okay.” And it would be okay. No matter what happened next, I would do my best to make sure she was safe and happy.

  “It’s really not.” Maisie stood, her shoulders slumped, sadness dripping from her posture. “I have to be back in LA by tomorrow or they’re going to fire me.”

  Twenty-Three

  Maisie

  I hated that I answered the phone. Not just because I interrupted a very important conversation with a man I respected more than anyone, but also because the answer to Caleb’s question was becoming more and more clear by the second.

  He wanted to know how much longer I would be staying and my boss wanted me back in Los Angeles three days ago. As I paced the living room with my phone pressed to my ear, my awareness split. One part of me paying attention to the reaming Mr. Lombardi was giving me while the other watched Caleb as he watched me from his place in the blanket fort.

  A blanket fort. The man made me a blanket fort and for as ridiculous as it sounded, the gesture couldn’t have been more perfect. There wasn’t a single other thing he could have done to say I care about you, Maisie Brown. I see who you are, and I care.

  While I argued with my boss, Caleb downed a whole glass of wine, then poured himself another and started working on that, too. As Mr. Lombardi went to town making sure I knew just how irresponsible and unprofessional I was for going incommunicado on my own damn vacation, Caleb nodded as if he was coming to conclusions and answering his own set of questions in his head.

  “Collin’s lawyers are involved, Maisie. You hear me? His lawyers. He says you’re in breach of contract.”

  “Breach of contract? For going on vacation?” But even as I put up a fight, I realized my error. Back when we first started our relationship, Collin had insisted on a clause to our contract, one that promised I wouldn’t go more than three days without responding to his queries. At the time, I’d laughed off the clause. For one, Collin had seemed like a decent guy who wouldn’t get that needy. And for two, when had I ever gone three days without checking my phone?

  I ran a hand through my hair as the true weight of the situation settled onto my shoulders. “Shit.”

  A lawsuit. A frickin’ lawsuit. Quicksand had crept up to my neck while I lounged around watching TV, pretending to be a normal person.

  Mr. Lombardi launched into another diatribe about my carelessness and how stupid he had been to put so much faith in me while I was young and underqualified. He used more than a few choice words that spun in the pit of my stomach.

  “Mr. Lombardi,” I said when he took a breath, trying to sound stern and professional, not like my world was dropping out from under me. “You have no right to talk to me like that.” I took a breath, fully intent on continuing, but he interrupted.

  “I have every right to talk to you like that. The reputation of my agency is at stake and that means it’s my name on the line. If we lose a client like Collin fucking West right after you launched his ugly ass to astronomic heights, I will make damn sure you never work in this town again. I. Will. Ruin. You.”

  He continued, and I was drunk enough, or angry enough, or off my guard enough to argue until he dropped a bomb on the conversation. “You will either be back in Los Angeles, behind your desk, licking West’s ballsack if that’s what it takes to calm this dipshit down, by tomorrow night, or you’re fired.” And with that, Jacob Lombardi ended the call, clearly not at all worried about the harassment case I could build against him off the strength of that last statement alone.

  I closed my eyes, fighting an onslaught of tears and anxiety as I digested everything that happened, wishing I could go back in time, ignore my stupid phone, and answer Caleb’s question.

  How long are you staying?

  Forever. I’m never leaving. You’ve always been my everything and now that I remember that, there’s no reason for me to want anything else ever again.

  Except stuff like that only happened in fairytales. In the real world, responsible adults needed to be able to support themselves and last I checked, there wasn’t a whole lot of demand for talent agents in Key West.

  I opened my eyes and found Caleb watching me. He had every right to yell. To get indignant and throw blame. I answered the phone when I shouldn’t have, sending a message I had no intention of sending.

  You mean less to me than my job.

  Which wasn’t true. He meant so much more to me than my job—and Shift was my entire life.

  Instead of laying into me or asking me to leave, he patted the pillow beside him, offering the comfort of his strength and support when I wasn’t sure I had earned it. “It’s going to be okay,” he said, and his words brought a ball of emotion up to catch in my throat.

  When I explained the conversation, Caleb smiled sadly, then put down his glass of wine and crawled out of Fort Casie the Second, accidentally pulling the thing down around him as he miscalculated his size. “Guess we’re not kids anymore,” he said as he stared at the mess.

  I shrugged, the weight of his words settling onto my shoulders. “Guess we’re not.”

  I thought this was our goodbye. I expected him to send me on my merry way, silently cursing me for ruining the equilibrium of his life. But when he finally looked at me, there was something beautiful in his gaze. Something I wanted to fall into, to lose myself in, a forcefield to insulate us from the world.

  Caleb reached for my hands, delicately twining his fingers through mine, then pulled me close.
I pressed my head to his chest, and he held me tight without saying a word. The steady thrum of his heartbeat reached out to mine, a rhythmic reminder that he was flesh and blood and not some figment of my imagination.

  This was Caleb Hutton. My best friend. My soulmate. My past colliding with my present and if I listened to what my heart was saying in response to his, then he was my future, too.

  Tears burned in my eyes and I squeezed them shut, afraid that if I started crying, I would never stop. But my breath hitched, and my soul opened up, and before I could say anything about it, I was sobbing into Caleb’s chest as he ran a soothing hand through my hair and whispered sweet words into my ear.

  I wasn’t even sure why I was crying. Was it because of what my boss said? Because I realized that my perfect life wasn’t quite as perfect as I thought? Was I crying for the little girl I used to be? The one who never had a chance, but dug her heels in and made one for herself, despite what everyone said? The one who still hadn’t taken a moment to slow down or breathe? Was I crying for my parents and the terrible life they lived? Was I crying for what Caleb and I could have been? What we were?

  Or was I crying for all of it?

  In Caleb’s arms, I purged myself of a lifetime of ignored sorrow and piled up pain. When I finally regained control, he guided me over to the couch and presented me with a box of tissues.

  “I’m so sorry,” I murmured while I swiped at my eyes.

  Caleb took my free hand. “Don’t be. I understand. I’m here for you, if you want to talk.”

  “I don’t even know where to begin. It’s all so jumbled up inside.” I dropped my head into my hand. “I guess I should start looking at flights if I’m going to be back in the office by tomorrow.”

  With a sigh, Caleb shifted in his seat. “You don’t have to go back.”

  Hope flared to life and I glanced up, afraid I had misheard him. I wanted to stay. It just wasn’t possible. “Jacob Lombardi doesn’t make idle threats. If I want to keep my job, I have to go back.”

  “But, I guess what I’m saying is, do you even want to keep your job?” His low voice rumbled between us, his words both soothing the ache in my heart and jolting my anxiety back into action.

  “What? Caleb. I wouldn’t be able to find another agency willing to take a chance on me if I blow this.”

  “Maisie. You’re not hearing me. I’m asking you to stay. Like, stay for good. Here, with me, in the Keys.”

  I blinked away my confusion. This was the first question he had asked me that I didn’t have an immediate answer for. All the other ones had received an instant yes. But this one…

  This one…

  I wanted to say yes, but it was such a risk. Giving up my career after just a week…a wonderful week, yes, but still just a week. It reminded me of something my dad would do. The kind of rash decision that came with the last name of Brown.

  “I want to stay with you, but…” I turned up my palms as my old self warred with my new self. “I have no way to support myself here.”

  My heart began to protest and excitement bloomed at the thought of moving back home to be with him. The thought stunned me. When did I start thinking of the Keys as home instead of LA? I closed my eyes, trying to get a better sense of the feeling before it dissipated like a puff of dandelion in the wind…

  “I know it’s a lot,” Caleb said. “It’s a huge change. And I wouldn’t ask you to even think about it if I didn’t believe we were worth it.” He shifted again, squeezing my hands in his. “What we have…it’s worth fighting for. Tell me you don’t feel it and I’ll back off.”

  I met his eyes, my mind going into overdrive as I considered the ramifications of the choices in front of me. “Would you do it?” I asked. “If it were me, asking you to give up everything you had here to come to LA and be with me, would you?”

  Caleb blinked and sat back a fraction of an inch. “I’d have to think about it. But I would think about it.” He grabbed the back of my head and pressed his forehead to mine. “I don’t want to lose you again.”

  Tears welled in my eyes as I digested both his hope and his sorrow and found them echoed inside me. “And I don’t want to lose you.” I pressed my lips to his, sobbing into his mouth as the impossibility of the situation came into focus. No matter what choice I made, it would be the wrong one.

  And the right one.

  “I need time to think about it.” I ran my hands through his hair, gripping it in my fists as if I could physically hold us together. “And I think I need to do it alone. Because I can’t think straight when you’re around.” I stood and gathered my things, then when it came time to leave, I couldn’t.

  “I love you, Maisie.”

  “I love you, too.” I raised up on tiptoes to kiss him again, then left before I could talk myself out of it.

  Twenty-Four

  Maisie

  I left Caleb’s house and couldn’t bring myself to head back to The Hut. So many good memories lived there, I wasn’t prepared to face them. And so, with my eyes still swollen from tears, I plopped into the driver’s seat of my rental and drove, not fully aware of where I was going until I arrived in front of my old house.

  Thankfully, it was vacant, as nothing could have stopped me from getting out of my car. My feet moved on autopilot up the rickety old steps, the last one squealing in protest just as it had done a lifetime ago. The sound dredged up the sense of dread that used to wrap around my heart every time I came home. Grime covered the windows, but I peered inside to what used to be my living room.

  My pulse pounded in my ears as echoes of my father’s voice roared in my head. I straightened, hoping to silence the memories, but the dam had been broken and they rushed back in one disgusting mass. I remembered lying in bed, hunger gnawing at my bones and keeping me awake night after night while Mom and Dad fought. Their raised voices vibrating anxiety straight into my heart, so deep, it became a facet of my personality—meek, nervous, scared little Maisie.

  Please, I would pray each night. Take me away from here. Keep me safe. Make them stop fighting.

  Over and over, I murmured those words, pressing shaking hands against my ears, until eventually I drifted to sleep. The one bright spot in my days was Caleb. To my young eyes his blond hair shone like an angel’s. His smile was always warm and the only time I felt safe was when he was around. But inevitably, he would have to leave my side because he and I lived in different worlds. Caleb didn’t belong to me and as much as I wanted to belong to him, the terrible choices of my parents ensured that would never happen.

  And now, all these years later, he was here, extending his hands and inviting me into his life. And he was just as warm and I felt just as safe, but how could I be sure those feelings weren’t echoes of what I felt for him when I was young? How could I trust that any of this was real? I had only had him back for a week. I couldn’t make a choice this big when I had nothing but intuition and a few wonderful days to base my decision on.

  But you’ve leaned on your intuition before…

  Yeah. And it let me down. I thought Collin West was a sure thing. And yes, he was, in a way. But he had since proved he wasn’t the guy I thought he was. Instead of sweet and humble, his ego exploded almost as fast as he did. The man I thought would never take advantage of the strange clause he insisted be added to our contract was lawyering up and ruining my life.

  So much for trusting my gut.

  And what about my heart? What did it have to say?

  I wandered around the rotting shack that used to be my home, my throat so tight it hurt to swallow. The stagnant air pressed in on me and I yearned for the breeze that would cool the sweat at my brow if I was on the beach at The Hut. But I hadn’t gone there. Instead, I had come here, to this place that sat like poison in my soul, hunkered in the back of my mind like a great looming shadow over everything I ever accomplished.

  No matter how much I ignored my past, it was always back there, reminding me that I would never be as good as the people around
me.

  And that was why I couldn’t move back to the Keys.

  If I wanted to truly close the door on who I used to be, I needed to get the hell out of there and never look back. And so, with tears streaming down my face, I sat down on that dilapidated porch, pulled out my phone, and started looking for flights.

  Twenty-Five

  Caleb

  After a long and very sleepless night, I spent a rough day out on the water. I just didn’t have it in me to be Cap’n Caleb Hutton and for the first time in my career, the tourists in my care seemed less than enthusiastic about their adventure. My last tour ended at noon and I fought the urge to call Maisie for about an hour. She didn’t need any more pressure riding on her than she already had. So I finally gave up and headed to The Hut to see my family, knowing I would drive myself crazy if I spent one more minute alone.

  Both Wyatt and Lucas were in the office, hunched over the desk and studying a mess of papers, when I burst through the front door. They looked up when I stepped in, as strains of guitar music swooped into the hall from the kitchen, courtesy of Harlow and her never-ending font of creativity.

  “Hey, Moose.” Wyatt sat back in his chair and threaded his hands behind his head. “If only we knew you were coming, we would have made sure to stock the fridge. As it is, we only have enough food to feed a small army. Think you’ll be able to make do?”

  Last night’s dinner still sat in my fridge, untouched. My appetite had left with Maisie. “Very funny,” I shot back, then pulled out a chair and sat beside Lucas. “What are we working on?”

  Luc made a face. “We are looking at some very important hotel documents.”

  “How very subtle of you.” I leaned forward to quickly scan the papers, for no other reason than to piss off my oldest brother for being a dick.