Just Look Up

by Courtney Walsh

  “What’s this?”

  “If you choose to allow Memory Lane to create a custom design for your space, we’ll need you to sign right here.” She flipped to the last page and pointed to the dotted line.

  He skimmed it quickly, then looked at her. “Why is your business address in Harbor Pointe?”

  Chloe stood. “I’m going to check out the living room.”

  His question left Lane feeling naked and exposed. She hadn’t allowed herself to be this vulnerable with anyone since Jasper. How would she navigate the things she knew she needed to say?

  “Can we go for a walk? Show me the view?”

  “Sure.” He led her outside, onto the deck. “There’s private beach access this way.”

  She followed him down a long flight of stairs and kicked off her shoes at the bottom. Her first step onto the warm sand reassured her that she’d made the right choice. She was home.

  “What’s going on?”

  “I quit my job.” Lane stared out across the lake, drawing in a deep breath and finally—for the first time in two months—feeling a much-needed peace wash over her. She closed her eyes for a moment, letting the warm air fill her up.

  “I figured that much. But why?”

  She turned to him. “Turns out my dream job wasn’t so dreamy after all.” She started walking down the empty beach, the morning sunshine promising a beautiful day ahead. “I’d been working my whole life for that job—trying to prove something, trying to become something maybe I was never supposed to be.”

  She told him about the panic, the nerves, the urgency, the constant dinging of her phone, the late nights, the long weekends, the never-ending need to do, be, and obtain more.

  “I really thought that without those things, I wasn’t good enough.”

  His sigh was barely audible, but she heard it.

  “I guess I thought God—and maybe everyone else—would only love me for the things I did. My accomplishments. My trophies.”

  “That’s not who God is, Lane.”

  “I know that now. I know he loves us just because of who we are. Even when we mess up. And I’ve really messed up.” Her eyes filled with tears as she thought of the relationships, the people, she’d neglected over the years. All in the name of selfish ambition. Driven by a pain that had been buried for too long.

  “Anyway, my job suddenly didn’t feel like the most important thing anymore. And I guess I want to remove myself from it all,” she said. “The things I’ve really been searching for—they were here all along. I was just too busy to realize it the last time I was here.”

  Ryan stopped walking and faced her. “What kind of things?”

  “It’s hard to explain. I’ve been looking for a place where I fit in my whole life, and it turns out, I don’t have to be like everyone else to be included. My family isn’t so bad after all.”

  He smiled. “Is that all?”

  “No.” She met his eyes. “That’s only part of it.”

  He stepped closer. “What else?”

  She took his hand. “I swore when Jasper hurt me that I’d never, ever let myself feel that way again.”

  “I know.” His voice was quiet.

  “But knowing you were out there and we weren’t together was every bit as painful as if I’d lost you.”

  “You’ll never lose me, Lane.” He drew her to him, their bodies pressed close as if they were created to fit together perfectly. He brushed the hair away from her face, eyes searching hers. “So what are you saying?”

  “I’m saying I don’t know where this is headed, but I want to find out.”

  He smiled. “You’re saying you’re gonna let me love you?”

  She stood, unmoving. “There’s that word again.”

  “It’s the only one that fits. I think I’ve loved you since the first day I saw you, the day your dad brought me home and let me eat dinner with your family. That day changed my life, Lane. You’ve changed my life. And I don’t care if you’ve got a big fancy job in the city or you’re working at Harold’s General Store in downtown Harbor Pointe. What you do doesn’t mean a thing to me—only that I get to be with you when you do it.”

  She’d forgotten how much she missed his kisses, but now, as his lips found hers, everything came back to her, and it was like no time had passed between them at all.

  Soft and gentle kisses quickly turned hurried and hungry as Ryan drank her in. In his arms, she felt safe, and even though her true heart had been exposed, she knew he’d never abuse that or take her for granted.

  Minutes later, she pulled back, holding on to his gaze with a smile. “Does this mean I’ve got the job?”

  He laughed, taking her face in his hands and kissing her one more time. “You definitely have the job.”

  She’d missed him, the way his arms felt wrapped around her, the way his skin smelled, the way he stared at her with those green eyes that made her feel like she was the only person in the world.

  Something told her the days of their separation were over.

  As they turned and headed back toward the cottage, her phone buzzed in her back pocket. She took it out and powered it down.

  He gave her a sideways glance. “You’re not going to answer that?”

  Her eyes scanned the scenery around her—the peaceful lake and the sand beneath her feet, the cherry-red lighthouse in the distance, the lush green trees perfectly complementing the deliciously blue sky—and of course, the handsome man at her side. “No, I’m not going to answer it.”

  He slid his hand into hers and gave it a squeeze. “I was hoping you’d say that.”

  As Lane looked up toward the top of the staircase built into the side of the sand dune, she had the distinct feeling that she was heading toward something important—a life full of love she could’ve had all along. And she vowed to never again miss what was right in front of her.

  CHAPTER

  1

  EVELYN BRANDT STOOD in her kitchen, the sound of uptight laughter filtering in from the dining room.

  Hosting the Loves Park Chamber Ladies hadn’t been her idea. Christopher told her a good politician’s wife had to put herself out there. So she did.

  And now she regretted it. It wasn’t the first time that agreeing to something she didn’t want to do had ended in regret.

  She dialed Christopher’s work line.

  “Christopher Brandt.”

  “. . . is in serious trouble,” Evelyn said.

  “Evelyn?” He sounded concerned, telling her he hadn’t gotten her joke.

  “This luncheon is pure torture,” she whispered. “You owe me.”

  His laugh was forced. “I do owe you. Thanks for playing nice.”

  Of course she played nice. That was the only way she knew how to play. Learn the rules and follow them. Words to live by.

  “Evelyn, do you have any more peach tea?” Georgina Saunders appeared in the doorway, took one look at her, and frowned. “I didn’t realize you were on a call.”

  Bad manners?

  Evelyn said a quick good-bye to her husband and hung up. “I’m sorry about that. I’ll bring more tea.”

  The caterer appeared to be occupied in the corner of the kitchen. So Evelyn took the empty crystal pitcher from Georgina, president of their philanthropic group, and moved to the opposite side of the room, thankful when the other woman returned to the dining room. If Evelyn had her way, she would’ve hidden out in the kitchen for the rest of the luncheon.

  But the pecan-crusted chicken with chardonnay cream sauce hadn’t even been served yet.

  As Evelyn refilled and picked up the pitcher, it slipped from her hands. She caught it before it hit the ground, but not before the peach tea sloshed onto her black-and-white silk and cotton dress, the one Christopher had special ordered for this occasion. The one that made Evelyn feel like a child playing dress-up in her mom’s closet.

  Even after all these years of learning to fit the mold, she still felt uncomfortable in these scenarios.

&nb
sp; “Evelyn, do you have that tea?” Georgina returned. “Oh, my. How clumsy of you. You should soak that before it stains.”

  Evelyn nodded. “I think I’ll go change.”

  “Good idea.” Georgina took the pitcher and left the kitchen.

  Evelyn hurried upstairs, pulled off the dress, and stood in her closet. What she really wanted was a pair of worn-out jeans and her oversize light-gray sweater.

  But that would never do, and she didn’t want to embarrass Christopher. She knew how important these ladies were to his political career, both present and future.

  She returned to the dining room, wearing a simple pair of black dress pants, heels, and a loose patterned blouse. A conversation was already in progress.

  Georgina sat at the end of the table like a queen on a throne, chin tilted ever so slightly downward as always, eyebrows raised in judgment. “I hadn’t heard that about Willa Seitz’s husband,” she was saying.

  Evelyn frowned as she took her seat at the opposite end of the table.

  “Did you know he was having an affair with Willa’s sister, Evelyn?”

  Evelyn felt her eyes widen. “I hadn’t heard that, no.” She should call Willa. Make sure she was okay. They didn’t know each other well, but their paths had crossed enough for Evelyn to consider her an acquaintance at least, if not a friend.

  And if the expressions on the faces of the women in her dining room were any indication, Willa Seitz wouldn’t have many of those now.

  “Seems it’s been going on for quite some time.” Georgina surveyed the rest of them. “We should all say a prayer of thanks for faithful husbands, ladies.”

  Yes. Evelyn was grateful for that, though she wished her husband was home more often. Being a state senator kept him busy. And away.

  But then, weren’t his position and his power part of what she loved about him? Her mind conjured an image of Christopher. Handsome and charming with eyes that sparkled and a smile that melted hearts. She’d never met anyone with quite so much charisma, and while she certainly didn’t enjoy the days they were apart each month, the wife of a public servant had to make sacrifices too.

  The main course was served, and the ladies around her table began eating the catered lunch. Evelyn mostly stayed quiet at these sorts of functions, meant for networking and planning the occasional philanthropic event. Christopher thought it was important she was involved.

  “These women decide the who’s who of Colorado,” he’d told her. “Be charming and wonderful. We need their support.”

  She did as she was told, and while she never uttered a word of protest, she dreaded these luncheons more than dental work.

  “Evelyn, will Christopher be home this weekend?” Lydia Danvers straightened. The woman might have been four years older than Evelyn, but she dressed fifteen years younger. All that time spent in the gym had certainly worked in her favor.

  Evelyn shrank under her watchful eye. “He hopes to be,” she said, then took a sip of her tea. “His schedule is always up in the air.”

  Lydia gave a curt nod, then a quick once-over. “Did you change your clothes?”

  Evelyn smoothed her blouse. “I did. I just spilled some tea on myself.”

  The ladies laughed. “Oh, Evelyn, it’s a good thing you had this meal catered,” Georgina said.

  More laughter.

  Heat rushed to Evelyn’s cheeks. She would tell Christopher she needed a break from the entertaining. She didn’t have the gift of hospitality, and it was time she said so.

  After this luncheon.

  The doorbell rang, drawing all six pairs of eyes toward Evelyn.

  “Are you expecting someone else?” Georgina asked.

  Evelyn set her cloth napkin on the table as she pushed herself up. She’d never been more thankful for a doorbell in her life.

  But when she moved toward the front door and spotted a man and a woman, both dressed in suits and looking quite official, her gratitude slowly dissipated.

  She stood motionless on her side of the door, staring at them through the window until they flipped open badges, expectancy on their faces.

  “Who is it, Evelyn?” Georgina called from the other room.

  She cracked the door as her heart became a stopwatch set on double time.

  “Evelyn Brandt?”

  She nodded through the half-open door. “Yes?”

  “Agent Marcus Todd, FBI. This is Agent Debbie Marnetti.”

  “What can I do for you?” Her stomach fluttered, and that familiar panicked feeling set in. And just like that she was eleven years old again, waiting for her father to come home, knowing her grades would not meet his approval. Her anxiety had turned to panic even then, and she’d been battling it ever since. Would she ever find comfort in her own skin?

  Not now. She needed to keep it together.

  “We need to speak to you about your husband. May we come in?”

  “Christopher? Has something happened?” Evelyn didn’t move from her spot in the doorway, her mind racing back to the quick conversation she’d had with her husband earlier today. He had seemed distracted—well, even more so than usual—but everything else was fine. He would’ve told her if it wasn’t.

  “Ma’am?”

  Evelyn realized she’d been staring, mind reeling, and she quickly apologized. “I have guests.”

  The woman—Marnetti—rolled her eyes. The man gave her a warm smile. “It might be a good idea to ask them to leave.”

  Evelyn felt like she’d just been asked to return to the doctor’s office for an in-person explanation of her test results.

  “We really do need to speak to you immediately,” Agent Todd told her.

  “Of course. Come in.”

  She led them to the living room of their lakefront house. The house Christopher bought without telling her. He said it was a gift for her, but Evelyn knew better. The lake ran through Loves Park, and the homes surrounding it were some of the most desirable in town.

  “It’s a house worthy of a future governor,” he’d told her on their first walk-through, confirming her suspicions.

  “It’s so big,” she said. “What are we going to do with all this extra space?” The ornate fixtures certainly didn’t seem like the kinds one would have in a houseful of children.

  “We’ll be entertaining,” Christopher had told her. “Fund-raising. Campaigning. I’ve hired a decorator to come in and redo everything.”

  “Can we really afford that, Christopher?”

  He pulled her into his arms. “You deserve a beautiful home, Evelyn. I want you to have the best.”

  She looked past him to the elaborate staircase at the center of the entryway. “I don’t need all of this. I’d be happy with a small house in the country. As long as you’re there. You know that.”

  His phone had chirped in his pocket and he’d excused himself to the other room, leaving her alone in the middle of a house she was sure would always feel more like a hotel than a home.

  Now, in spite of the people surrounding her, Evelyn felt more alone than ever. She gestured for the agents to sit on the posh sofa Christopher’s decorator had picked out.

  “Can I get either of you something to drink?” she asked, trying to remember her manners in spite of her trembling hands.

  “We’re fine, Mrs. Brandt.” Agent Marnetti’s tone almost sounded like a reprimand.

  Evelyn begged her heart to stop pounding.

  “Evelyn, are you coming back?” Georgina appeared once more in the doorway. Her perfectly tweezed brows drew downward.

  Evelyn’s throat went dry.

  “Who are you?” Georgina’s superiority permeated the air.

  “Georgina, I think it’s best if we cut the luncheon short.”

  “We haven’t even begun the meeting,” Georgina said. “The others are still eating.”

  “Georgina, please.” Evelyn practically pushed her out of the room, wishing she would just take a hint already. Her mind spun with possible scenarios. Why on earth was the
FBI in her living room? And was there any way to get these ladies out without having to answer a million questions?

  “Evelyn, I don’t like the idea of leaving you alone here,” Georgina said as they returned to the dining room. “Ladies, there are two strangers who’ve just barged into Evelyn’s house. I think we need to get to the bottom of this.”

  Evelyn sighed. “They’re from the FBI.”

  A collective gasp filled the room.

  “What do they want with you?” Susan Hayes asked, rising from the table.

  “I don’t know,” Evelyn said. “I haven’t found out yet. Please go and let me call you all later.”

  “We should stay,” Georgina argued.

  “No.” Evelyn’s tone was firm for once. “Please go.”

  These women were really only here to help Christopher’s political career, and whatever the FBI wanted, she had a feeling it wasn’t going to be very helpful.

  Evelyn suspected that before she discovered why the FBI was sitting on her sofa, Georgina and the others would have a litany of false explanations floating around town. She ushered them out, dismissed the caterer, and returned to the room where she’d left the agents.

  “Do you know why we’re here?” Agent Todd asked.

  Evelyn shook her head. “You said it was about Christopher.”

  “Where is your husband now?” Agent Marnetti asked. She stood near the windows.

  “Denver. They’re in session. He’s a Colorado state senator. He was elected three years ago. He worked hard to get where he is.” She was rambling.

  Something passed between the two agents in a silent exchange.

  “What is it?” Evelyn folded her hands in her lap, feeling a rush of anxiety rise to the surface.

  “This is quite the house you have here, Mrs. Brandt.” Agent Marnetti walked toward the fireplace. “Is this marble?” She ran a hand along the mantel—a mantel most women would love. Evelyn had never cared for it. She’d tried her best to add personal touches—Christopher had allowed her to give three photos of the two of them to his decorator, a regal woman whose accent sounded like a cross between Britain and the Upper East Side. The photos stared at her from the mantel now.