When Fall Fades (The Girl Next Door Series Book 1)

by Simpson, Amy Leigh

  Oh, boy. Finn was growling. That meant it could only be one person.

  Sure enough, Joselyn pushed right past him with a none-too-subtle shoulder check and rushed to Sadie.

  “Sure, Snow Whyte, come on in.” Finn bit out, not bothering to hide his distaste for Sadie’s best friend, the sole heiress to the Whyte Empire. Why her wealth bothered Finn, Sadie still didn’t know.

  “I heard what happened on the news, and I tried to call you but your phone was turned off, so I called your parents’ house and they said that you were here, and I can’t believe this happened I was so freaked out, and you know I don’t pray but I thanked God the whole way here. Did they arrest the guy? Are you hurt? Tell me what happened!” Joselyn’s frantic words tumbled out without a breath.

  Releasing a bubble of laugher, Sadie sniffled back tears and smiled. “Slow down, sweetie, deep breath.” She inhaled and exhaled in demonstration. “Atta girl. Now, if you promise not to hyperventilate I’ll tell you everything.”

  “Actually, you’re kind of interrupting. And I don’t remember inviting you here, so maybe you two can get together tomorrow—preferably while I’m at work.” Finn set Sadie’s plate of eggs on the counter, then crossed his arms and glared at Joselyn.

  Joss sneered back at him, hot pink flaring in her pale cheeks.

  Here we go. With a sigh, Sadie tuned out their bickering and ate. By the time she finished they were all up in each other’s faces, slinging the dirtiest barbs they had. “All right you two. That’s enough! Ho-ly smokes, someone call the CDC because the sexual tension in here is nearly toxic!”

  Ha! Now she’d done it.

  Their anger found a new target. Each one of them blistering red and hurling sputtering protests of denial. Interesting. Well, at least they could agree on something.

  Sadie snorted. “Really? Yelling at a woman who was just kidnapped and assaulted? Cool it, or I’ll put you both in time-out. Together.”

  In unison, they crossed their arms—their eyes like repelling magnets.

  “Better. Now, if you two can put your qualms aside for a few minutes, I’ll explain. Then I’ll put in some earplugs, and you can go at it all night if you want.”

  “Oh-ho-no! I’d rather be burned alive than stay here with him all night!” Joselyn narrowed her eyes at Finn. The flash of rage in his eyes signaled a hasty countdown to his retaliation.

  Sadie flung her arms out and separated them. “Wow, you guys. I don’t remember it being this bad. What happened?”

  Crickets. Hmm.

  Sadie took the small sliver of silence to start in on her harrowing tale. It didn’t seem possible but somehow it already seemed lighter, each heavy memory unloading from her heart like disease draining from her body. As if, after years of harboring old wounds, she was finally ready to heal.

  After Joss left and Finn retired to the couch giving Sadie his room, she lay awake staring at the shadows on the ceiling. Cars would pass on Kirkwood Road, prisms of light causing the shapes to shift before snapping back to form. Even in the dark, there was something new to see.

  She’d been hiding in darkness for five years, smothering any speck of light, refusing to bend for fear she might not bounce back. Or maybe she wouldn’t like what emerged from the shadows if she tried to escape them.

  Rolling over, she bunched Finn’s pancake pillow beneath her head, closed her eyes, and tried to focus on counting sheep instead of stretching shadows. She was exhausted, just plain wrecked, so sleep should have been effortless. Instead there was this deep restlessness. And surprisingly not from the attack, but from finding Ryan’s hat.

  Was it a sign? Would he ever be found, too? And was it naive to hold on to hope all these years that someday she’d come home from work to find him standing on her doorstep, ready to fulfill his promise of a life together?

  It was terrible, but some days she wished that Ryan had died instead of disappeared. The circumstance as it was left closure just out of reach.

  The day she’d received that call from Ryan’s mom, her world had stopped turning. And then when the letter from Ryan arrived a week later, Sadie had downshifted into autopilot, losing the drive to live out her dreams. Barely breathing for fear the fragile promise of his last words wouldn’t survive unless she kept pressure on the wound.

  She couldn’t finish med school because every patient she saw was Ryan with a broken ankle in the woods. She couldn’t date because every man was a potential husband that would never be him.

  What if she fell in love and got married, and then Ryan came back? How long was too long to wait for the love of your life? One year turned to three and then five in a blink of misery and crumbling hopes. The uncertainty chained her legs to the past, locking her heart behind all the what-ifs. Because if she moved on and Ryan was found, she couldn’t possibly go back and undo the choices she’d made without him.

  And as much as she would always love him, his memory had become a phantom, haunting her with the constant reminder of all that could’ve been.

  It was the worst kind of regret. Unfinished business, a lingering ellipsis. One kiss, one embrace, one I love you … was all they got.

  One fleeting moment.

  Curling her knees to her chest, she folded her tender arms over her head, retreating into herself, desperate to find shelter.

  She’d thought she’d been standing still, waiting to pick up where they’d left off, but maybe she’d actually been running from the possibilities, and in turn letting the past fester like a gaping hole in her chest. That maybe if she remained broken and alone, that meant Ryan was still out there somewhere, trying to find his way home.

  “God,” Sadie whispered, “is it time to let go? Is there something more for me?” When she lowered her arms, her heart gave way, surrendering all of her hurt and fear and shattered dreams to the one who loved her the most. And as she began to drift to sleep, she felt a healing hand knit together the first piece of her broken heart.

  The following morning Sadie awoke to yet another obnoxious buzz from her cell phone on Finn’s night stand. Without looking, she slapped her hand down over the blasted thing and declined the call.

  The golden glow of morning embellished tiny flakes of drifting lint, the spotlight from the window bathing Sadie in a block of warmth. She’d been awake for an hour, but with nothing pressing for the day, she couldn’t be persuaded to leave the cozy pocket of comfort. The incessant phone calls and the lovely yet badgering brightness, meant sleeping in wasn’t in the cards. Finn really could use some blackout shades. And maybe a few more grown-up things.

  She inspected the sparse furnishings of his man-boy pad. A Cardinals pennant flag was the only adornment on the walls, though there were a few framed photos of their family on the dresser and night stand. Of course, the childhood pictures were easy to miss as they were obstructed by stacks of video games, comics, and every estrogen-resistant movie she could think of. Oh, Finn. He had such potential, but he was still afflicted with Peter Pan syndrome. Some girl had her work cut out for her with that one.

  After ignoring yet another chirp of her cell phone, she finally gave in and started checking her messages. The first two were from Archer, just after she’d left the office with Sal. One note of his voice had the power to unravel her. She listened, the ache for him so fierce she knew a single dose would never cure her. The man was dangerously habit forming.

  Messages three through five were the familiar frantic ravings from Joselyn before showing up at Finn’s place.

  Six through nine were concerned family members who had seen the news coverage about the attack. Ten was from her mom checking in at six o’clock this morning—like Sadie would be up by then.

  The marathon of messages had her feeling ready to battle the brightness for a morning nap in Finn’s king-sized bed. Before she could break for an intermission the next
message started.

  “Sadie, it’s Archer again.” His voice had changed since last night, but Sadie couldn’t put a name to the tender quality sifting through the speaker. “Look I understand the whole silent treatment thing, I do … but I just want you to know I don’t give up easy. I really do need to talk to you and not just about yesterday.”

  She could picture the slight part of his full, perfect lips as he breathed out a sigh. Remembering how she’d traced them with her fingers. Nibbled playfully. Drank from them so deeply she was still hungover.

  “I can’t stop thinking about you. I don’t want to. If you need some time, I can work with that, but I’m not going away. I don’t know what’s going on in that smart, pretty little head of yours, but there are some things I need to clear up. No codes or riddles or sleuthing this time, Sherlock. I hope you’ll give me a chance to explain. Please call me back. Bye, beautiful.”

  Without thinking, Sadie pressed the option to replay the message and was trapped in a dreamy daze, surrounded by the rich timber of his voice and the soft sincerity of his tone. Thankfully the next message snapped her out of her pathetic swoon.

  “Sadie. Eugene Goldberg, Charles Westwick’s attorney. I just wanted to set up a meeting between you and the board for the initiation of the foundation, and I also wanted to let you know that since there’s a suspect in custody, we will be releasing the items from Charlie’s will. John and Evan Westwick are heading into town sometime soon to get started at Charlie’s place. There will be a piano mover arranged whenever you are ready for delivery. Let me know if there are any problems. Talk soon.”

  Intermission time. Peeling the screen away from her cheek, she rolled out of bed and got to work tidying up Finn’s messy apartment—a sort of thank you for taking her in.

  An hour later, her body was protesting the overkill act of gratitude. Luckily, Sadie had a remedy. First, a mercifully hot shower. Next, she wiggled into a pair of jeans and a red and white baseball T-shirt. She pulled Ryan’s filthy old hat low to discourage curious eyes from the evidence of her attack, and went downstairs to the coffee shop in the quaint Kirkwood neighborhood to refuel.

  Settling at a table outside and breathing in the fresh aroma of the savory brew in front of her, she closed her eyes, felt the Indian summer air heat her skin and reawaken her senses. Perhaps she should still be feeling jumpy, but the pure beauty of the day eliminated those few twinges of anxiety trying to creep in. This was the kind of day that made you feel grateful to be alive. A sappy sentiment, but to Sadie it felt honest and new.

  Yep. It was time to start living. And she had a feeling she knew who might be able to help her with that.

  After dropping a coffee by the firehouse for Finn, Sadie headed home. Fully caffeinated with a venti French roast and a fresh dose of hope, she was ready to brave her own ground zero. When she turned into her spot and got out, a fancy, silver Mercedes AMG still bearing dealer tags swung into the spot next to hers. The driver slipped out from behind darkly tinted windows.

  “Evan. Hi. I didn’t know you guys would get here so soon.” Despite the heat of the endless summer, a chill nipped at her skin. She hadn’t seen Charlie’s grandson since the reading of the will. The reception today wasn’t much warmer.

  Evan’s dark eyes flashed. “My dad’s not here yet. He had an emergency, so he’ll probably be here in a couple of hours.” There was a sudden shift in his demeanor. His gaze heated and slowly perused every inch of her body before landing on her face. His enjoyment faded fast. “You don’t look so good. I heard about the attack—you’re really lucky. Are you okay?”

  Ants seemed to crawl on her skin from the intent of his stare. He was a married man, and yet he was very blatantly undressing her with his eyes. She shivered, barricaded her arms over her chest. “Yeah, I’m fine. I’m just glad this whole thing is over with, you know?”

  A strange expression twisted his face. “Yeah, what a relief. Hey, I don’t mean to pry, but I couldn’t help but wonder what Gramps wrote in that letter that got you so emotional last week?”

  “Umm … I mean it was kind of personal. Mainly, he thanked me for helping him rediscover his faith. You know, Evan, even though you two lost touch and your relationship was strained, you were never far from his mind. He prayed for you a lot.”

  Evan blurted out a laugh—the superficial quality of the sound turned her distaste for him to pity. “Why on earth would he need to pray for me?”

  “Because he wanted to feel closer to you. And because I think he was hoping someday you’d know the truth ab—”

  “The truth about what?”

  What kind of truth was Evan seeking? He seemed to be a guy who thought he had the answers to everything. She bit her lip to smother a patronizing grin, knowing he wasn’t expecting what she was about to say. “About how much he loved you. Believed in you. Hoped you’d find your way.” The words were coasting straight over the cretin’s dense head.

  “Right, well, did the letter say anything else?”

  “Well sure, but nothing that would interest you.” What was this really about? He was fishing for something.

  With an innocent shrug, he glanced at his feet. “I just regret not knowing him better. Maybe your letter could give me a final glimpse of who he really was?” He looked up at her, almost pleading, the previous irritation and urgency now absent from his tone.

  Now it was Sadie’s turn to narrow her eyes. His moods were as volatile as the wind. Maybe he was bipolar? Of course, with the way her mind worked, she instinctually tried to diagnose and treat. Could it really just be simple curiosity?

  “Evan, it’s a little weird you’re asking me this. Not to mention, kind of inappropriate.” She pointed over his shoulder. “The cops are here to let you in and supervise. I think I’ll come in for the records.”

  “Records of what?” He snapped.

  It seemed Evan Westwick was quite accustomed to getting his way. Though, for someone who was so successful, he sure acted like a petulant child.

  “Music. You, know? Vinyls.” She forced a smile.

  “Oh, right. I knew that.” He strutted toward the door, making a show of checking something on his phone.

  She shook her head and followed. It was truly amazing this man shared a bloodline with Charlie. Polar opposites, in Sadie’s opinion. Maybe it was best that Charlie never saw him like this. He would have been so disappointed.

  Once inside, the police helped her round up the crates of pristine old records. She held up a Dean Martin sleeve, breathed in the musky reminder of her dear old friend.

  You did good, Charlie. Real good.

  Sadie sniffed back tears. Charlie had not only handed her a new dream, but he’d given countless others hope. Security. It was the best kind of closure for a man who wanted to leave behind a legacy of second chances.

  “Why don’t you let me carry those to your place for you, since you’re a little banged up?” Evan thought he was being charming, but his overtures weren’t subtle. He was either too affected by his self-worship to notice her repulsion or too fueled by the challenge to relent.

  “Officer Kent already offered to help me. But, uh, thanks anyways.”

  He stepped into her path. “Well then maybe I could take you out for a drink later?”

  The guy could not take a hint. “Aren’t you married?” She couldn’t help that she spit the words out with unveiled disgust.

  He rolled his eyes, his smug little smirk made her fingers curl into fists. “Oh, Sadie, she doesn’t care. She works a lot. I travel.” He shrugged. “We have a mutual understanding.”

  “Well, I care.” What kind of woman would be married to such an imbecile? “What does she do for a living?”

  “She’s the VP of Vale Pharmaceuticals.” He looked pretty darned proud of that wife he just openly admitted to cheating on. “Her fa
mily owns the company, so she’s loaded. But now, so am I.”

  Yes, even without his wife’s money, inheriting millions of dollars meant he was quite rich. But for a guy so obsessed with money and appearances, why didn’t he seem happier about it? “Pharmaceuticals, that’s interesting. Well, it was really, eh … nice meeting you. Good luck with everything.” Slipping away from his final pursuit to draft her into his crippled sense of monogamy, she and the assisting officer loaded the crates onto a dolly and dropped them at her place.

  Finally alone, she whipped up some Velveeta Shells & Cheese—needing comfort food and not caring if the overly processed goop drenching the noodles contained any trace amount of legitimate dairy. Oh, sweet relief, she gulped down the cathartic calories and hunkered down on the couch.

  After dealing with Evan, she debated taking a shower to metaphorically rid herself of the slimy film he seemed to have left behind. Why was he so insistent on reading the letter? Had she missed something?

  She polished off the bowl, dumped the dishes in the sink, and went to retrieve Charlie’s letter, pouring over his heartfelt words carefully.

  It was a beautiful good-bye letter and she couldn’t think of a single thing that would interest Evan. But just as she was about to fold it back up and put it away, something caught her eye.

  “…the rock was a symbol … beauty for ashes. REMEMBER what I told you.”

  Remember. And she did.

  “You’re not livin’ up to your potential, my dear. All them brains and you’re dumpin’ out bedpans.” Charlie slid his glasses down to the end of his nose and pinned her with a knowing glare.

  “You sound like my mother.” He continued glaring, and Sadie eventually caved. “I just don’t think it’s the life I want anymore. Now, where am I putting all these bird watching books—downstairs in storage or you want me to keep them up here in case of a bird identifying emergency?”