To Bring You Back

by Emily Conrad

  “Yeah.” She eyed Noah, who was taking another order.

  He braced his hands on the window as she had so many times. “Want to upgrade that to a brat? Only fifty cents more.”

  As the customer agreed, Adeline bit her lip. A kid could do her job as well as she did.

  “Don’t worry.” Asher chuckled. “He knows it’s temporary.”

  “I’m glad you have help.” She forced a smile. “I’d stay, but I have a meeting with the fire department.”

  “Good. Get to the bottom of it.”

  “I don’t suppose you’ve heard anything helpful. Did anyone mention seeing something?”

  Asher plucked a hotdog off the cooking space and plopped it into a bun. “I’ve heard a lot of theories but nothing I’d call credible.”

  Asher would have to hear news directly from Joe Cullen or the fire inspector to consider it believable. Asking him to repeat anything else would be a lost cause, so she put her hand on the latch to leave.

  Noah finished with the customer and jotted the order down on the list for Asher. “Someone asked if you did it yourself to get out of paying for the work the neighborhood association wants.”

  “As I was saying”—Asher handed the boat with the hotdog to his nephew, who hustled back to work—“nothing credible.”

  “Who said that?”

  Asher shook his head. “No one you need to worry about. Go meet the inspector. It’ll all be sorted out.”

  With the authorities, yes, probably, but they were no longer the only concern. Everyone knew how much of a struggle the repairs were. Though she’d accepted help, nothing had been completed yet, which could add some credibility to the gossip. If a tabloid got hold of the rumor, they could run with it. Everywhere she went, she’d be the woman who’d chosen arson over getting a better job and paying for her own home upkeep.

  “Okay, so you know the lighthouse song?” Matt held the neck of his bass guitar with one hand and pushed the other into his hair until his fingers tangled. “I have an idea.”

  Gannon fought for an expression that didn’t show his exasperation. Matt could have a good idea—he used to offer them all the time and had even written a few of their songs early on—but they’d been in the studio for hours, and Gannon needed to get out.

  Harper had been smart enough to leave while he’d talked with Adeline. The actress’s things were still in her room, though, so she meant to come back, and when she did, Gannon would kick her out for good. He’d rather complete the task before Adeline returned. If she returned.

  He’d asked security to notify him the moment either woman pulled up to the gate, but he’d feel better if he could go keep an eye out himself. “Will this idea keep?”

  Matt passed his wrist under his nose. “Sure, I guess.”

  “Let’s come back to it tomorrow, then.”

  John shook his head and exited the studio. The drummer had been extra quiet all day, a sign that he disapproved of Gannon’s choices last night. But how could Gannon have known how it would turn out?

  All he could do now was try to fix it.

  “So, um …” Matt ducked out from under the shoulder strap of the bass and set the instrument aside. “Look, I wanted to talk to you.”

  Who was this and what had he done with Matt? Gannon could only wait to see what the man had to say and hope that in the meantime, security would alert him to any developments.

  Matt passed his hands over the thighs of his jeans. “I think you’re right, man. Things, um, have gotten a little out of hand, and maybe I want to get clean.”

  Gannon stared. Matt was a wreck, his need to beat addiction broadcast in every move he made, but he’d been nowhere near ready to admit that last night. “Why?”

  His fingers disappeared into his hair again. “I had a come-to-Jesus moment, you know? I don’t wanna—well, there was that cop last night. That was a close one, right?” He chuckled uneasily. “I was standing here today thinking it’s time. Time to get serious. To pull my weight again and that’s gonna mean cleaning up, so I thought you should know.”

  Just like this, God?

  Matt had always done everything suddenly.

  “You’ll go back to rehab?”

  “Ah, well.” Matt cringed. “We’re all here, and I know I’ve made bad choices, but I thought this place could be my rehab.”

  Okay. Maybe this wasn’t the change Gannon had been waiting for. “You’ve been using here the same as anywhere else.”

  “I’m done now. Here on out.” He lifted his hands parallel to each other as if to indicate the straight and narrow. “I’ve done this before, remember? Work will help distract me, and this way, the album doesn’t have to wait on hold for weeks.”

  “Detox will be brutal. You won’t be in any shape to rehearse. Will you be able to play next weekend?”

  “I’ll manage. It won’t be as bad as me leaving for a month. I’d miss the show then for sure. And, I mean, are we even still going to be here a month from now?”

  No. Summer would end, and Awestruck was due in the studio to record an album Gannon still hadn’t written—unless he could supplement what he had with the songs about Adeline.

  “If I fall off the wagon, you can check me into rehab yourself.”

  “It’s one thing to say that now and another to follow through when the time comes.”

  “Then do something else to me. Have me thrown in jail. You’ve wanted to do that forever.”

  “If I wanted that, I would’ve left you with the officer last night.”

  But Matt’s suggestion did reveal an option. Gannon could stop protecting him if he went back to using. He could even take it a step further, do what his mom had suggested all those weeks ago and fire Matt. But given everything Gannon had been forgiven for, wasn’t he obligated to show mercy?

  “Won’t matter, anyway. I’m done. Cold turkey. Alcohol too.”

  The near miss with the police officer last night wouldn’t have been enough to inspire a sincere change, and maybe this wasn’t sincere. But on the chance Matt would surprise him, Gannon didn’t want him failing. “Stay close to me or John, so you’ve got backup when it gets bad.”

  “Or Tim. Or just here.”

  “No. With me or John.” Not that Gannon wanted to be saddled with Matt right now, but the cravings would be intense, and as Tim had pointed out, Matt had a golden ticket—he could get whatever he wanted, wherever he wanted. Tim might even arrange the delivery for him if it meant keeping the performances and the recording schedule on track.

  “What’s up with John, anyway? The way he was acting, you’re lucky you don’t have a drumstick through your eye.”

  Gannon opened the studio door and motioned Matt through. “Let’s hope he feels more charitable toward you.”

  On the way through the great room, Gannon scanned the couches. Tegan was there, but no Adeline.

  She rose. “I need a minute with you.” Her chunky necklace and black short-sleeve sweater reminded him she’d gone to work today. Teaching. She hadn’t looked this tense when she’d left.

  On the other side of the patio doors, John was doing something on his phone as the trio of dogs trotted off onto the grass. Tegan’s and Bruce’s presence suggested Adeline hadn’t left permanently, unless Tegan’s tight expression meant she was about to break bad news on Adeline’s behalf.

  He pointed Matt toward John. “Go tell him what you told me. I’ll be out soon.”

  Tegan lowered herself to her seat and folded her hands. How long had she been sitting here, waiting for him?

  He sat across the coffee table from her and laced his hands together. “What can I do for you?”

  “I need to thank you for letting us stay here.” Her tone was formal with undertones of disapproval, maybe even aggression. The treatment he’d expect from an interviewer bent on blowing apart everything he stood for. She kept her gaze level, no gratitude cracking her serious expression.

  “It’s the least I could do.”

  “I
agree.” She kept her voice as even as her eye contact.

  He waited. No sense guessing what had angered her and speaking to the concern preemptively. If he guessed wrong, he’d give her more ammo.

  “The fire inspector told Adeline today that the ladder was pushed through the window. The fire could’ve been accidentally caused by the cigarettes, but the man you sent with Adeline told her something about carelessness being as dangerous as someone who’s out to get her, so she feels like she has no option but to stay here.”

  Gannon would have to make sure that guard got a raise. “I’m happy to put you up in a hotel, but I’d rather know you have good security, and this is the only place I can guarantee it. You’re both welcome here. If this is about the damage—”

  “It is about damage. To Adeline. She called and begged me to stay here with her because she doesn’t want to face this place alone.”

  So she was upset. He’d rather talk this through with Adeline than with her proxy. His bet? Adeline had no idea what Tegan was up to and might even be angry her roommate had stepped in. But if Tegan would confront him, she’d also speak against him to Adeline, straining things even more. “I’m telling Harper to leave as soon as I find her.”

  “That doesn’t solve the problem. Every time I see Adeline, she’s reeling from some monumental change between you and her. And that’s sad because I see her a lot, and this isn’t who she is. One minute she breaks out the bass for the first time since I’ve known her, the next she’s crushed and begging me to stay here as if her life depends on it, all because you’re toying with her.”

  “She played her bass?”

  “Is that the only thing you heard?”

  “If you don’t realize how good a sign it is that she played again, you don’t know her or our relationship well enough to judge. You might know Adeline as someone who works in a stuffy office and serves hotdogs, but she’s been burying her talents, pulling into herself instead of thriving.”

  “And you think the way you’re treating her will somehow help her realize that?”

  So Tegan wanted more for Adeline too. At least they had that in common.

  “Harper shouldn’t be here, but if Adeline played again, my showing up in her life hasn’t been a complete waste, and if you think I would willfully hurt her …” He wanted to tell her to find another place to stay, but that would only work against him. “It’s a good thing you’re here, so you’ll have a front-row seat to see how much that isn’t the case.”

  “Maybe you wouldn’t willfully hurt her. But it’s like that bodyguard said. Carelessness can be equally dangerous.”

  Anger stretched tight in his chest, about to snap. “How long have you been her friend?”

  “A few years.”

  “And you only heard her play bass once?”

  Her silence answered.

  “Then my being here a few weeks has done something for her that years before haven’t.” Years Tegan had been in the picture. Did he need to spell that out for her? “I’m not perfect, but I’ll do whatever it takes to help Adeline live with the living again.”

  “Live with the living?”

  “Adeline can fill you in. I have other business.”

  23

  An immense lawn stretched from the parking lot to the red brick building. Mature trees reached higher than the roof three stories up, somehow making the university building more imposing, even now, after Adeline had done what she’d come to do. She clicked her seatbelt as she heard the snap of Michael doing the same.

  Tegan would flip out with joy when she found out about this. Getting the job would be a relief for Adeline too. She might not know what to do in her relationship with Gannon, but she could improve the way her life looked apart from him. Or at least, she could try.

  God, please bless this, but only if You want me to work here. If You think staying in the church job is best, let me know.

  How she’d know God was trying to tell her something was anyone’s guess, but making the request calmed her worry over that one aspect of her life.

  Let me know what to do about the rest of it too.

  Unfortunately, immediate peace didn’t follow.

  “Where to?” Michael started the engine. He hadn’t said much all day except to answer her questions, but he’d done his job. He’d walked through her house to make sure everything was in order and had waited for hours while she dealt with the fire inspector and opening an insurance claim and packing and resume writing. When a photographer tried to follow them from her house to the college, he’d lost the man in a matter of turns.

  “To Havenridge, I guess.” Tegan had texted she was there already, a small comfort.

  Less than ten minutes later, Michael pulled to a stop under the carport.

  Adeline unbuckled and looked up at the door through the tinted window. As soon as she walked in, Gannon would be there, wanting to talk. Harper might linger nearby too. She hadn’t scared Adeline off the property with the lingerie or bought her favor with the personal shopping. What might come next?

  And then there was Matt, dingy and abrasive.

  Michael opened her car door. The rest of the day, she’d gotten out when he had, never giving him the opportunity. Had she been expected to wait all those times? She didn’t even know how to get out of a car in Gannon’s world. She gathered her purse and the large tote she’d filled with toiletries and shoes.

  Michael handed her a business card. “If you decide to go out, call or text day or night. I’ve been assigned to you specifically.”

  He opened the trunk and lifted out the suitcase she’d packed. Before she figured out how to protest, he’d taken it in through the front door. She pressed her index finger against the crisp edge of the card. She’d been assigned a bodyguard. What was the etiquette of that kind of relationship?

  To her relief, he came back out immediately, so he hadn’t acted on any grand ideas of delivering her luggage all the way up to the third floor.

  “Have a good afternoon.”

  “You too.” She watched him get back behind the wheel before mustering her courage to move forward. But as she approached the front door, she heard another car in the drive.

  She got a glimpse of Harper in the driver’s seat before the vehicle parked by the garage.

  Great.

  Adeline found her suitcase just inside the door. She adjusted her tote, lifted the handle of the rolling suitcase, and then pulled it behind her into the great room.

  “Welcome home.” Harper flounced in from the garage. “How are you? How was your day?”

  Through the windows toward the lake, she spotted Gannon, Matt, and John sitting in a loose huddle on the patio, heads bowed. Were they praying together? Beyond them, the dogs played on the broad lawn.

  “You changed.” Harper breezed to a stop next to her and rubbed the material of Adeline’s sleeve between two fingers as if to judge its worth. Without betraying her verdict, she grabbed Adeline’s hand and tugged her toward the stairs. “Let’s chat. Away from the noise.” She wiggled her fingers at the patio, as if they could hear anything from there, and pulled Adeline toward the stairs. “It’s personal.”

  Adeline’s shin bumped the first step, and the weight of her tote and purse made her turn her attention from Gannon to prevent a fall. “Talk about what?”

  “Life. Love.” She shrugged one shoulder with a helpless smile. “The pursuit of happiness.”

  Wasn’t the phrase from the Declaration about liberty, not love? Either way, their pursuits of happiness were at odds with each other. “I should get my bags up to my room.”

  “That thing is as big as you are.” Harper waved her hand again. “One of them will carry it for you.”

  John and Gannon were definitely praying. Matt had his gaze pointed at the ground, eyes open. It was hard to tell if he was waiting the other two out or if he was a willing participant.

  “It’s not about Gannon, if that’s what you’re worried about.” Harper gazed at him, underminin
g her words. “Well, it is about him a little bit. I’ve never known anyone else like him. I mean, look at him.”

  Adeline watched Gannon’s mouth move. What was he saying? Every time they’d spoken, he’d had so much to say to her that rang truer than most of what she told herself, but they hadn’t prayed together. What would he say if he were to pray over her as fervently as he appeared to be praying now?

  “Well, I mean, don’t stare at him. He’s hot—right?—but that’s not what I’m talking about. It’s the Christian thing. You’re like that too, aren’t you? I read that you work at a church. That’s probably why he likes you.”

  Adeline wasn’t like that at all. Her meek prayers were nothing compared to whatever Gannon poured out now.

  Harper watched her, plainly hopeful, though the bruised swelling still dimmed one of her eyes. “I can’t hide out here forever, but I don’t know what to do, and no one wants anything to do with me—not that I blame them, really—but I’m so alone and I need …” Her bright manner faded into something tremulous, and her nose turned pink. “What does it take to become a Christian?”

  Adeline had walked in expecting something from Harper, but not this. Could she refuse this conversation?

  With a sigh, she let the actress usher her into Harper’s room. Harper closed the door most of the way, then sat on the bed, leaning against the elegant curves of a driftwood headboard similar to the one in Gannon’s room. She motioned, and Adeline took a spot against the footboard.

  “So? Can I be one?”

  “A Christian?”

  Harper nodded vigorously.

  Did she seriously want to turn her life over to Jesus here and now? Was she in any place to do that? For that matter, was Adeline’s faith in any condition to lead someone else to Christ? “What do you know about God?”

  “I know about Jesus dying. John three-sixteen—God loves us.”

  “That’s a start. God loves us, but we also have to love Him, and if we do, we’ll change the way we act. Jesus died to pay for our sins, and for us to be right with God, we have to repent and turn our lives over to God.”