He gestured to the door. “Let me walk you out.”
She nodded. What else was there to do?
Dan followed her to her cubicle. In a daze, she grabbed her purse and headed toward the bank of elevators with the news editor still by her side.
“You’re a good reporter, Zoe. But you led with your heart and not your head on this one. I don’t know the entire extent of it, but you’ve clearly ruffled the wrong people’s feathers. All the bigwigs met with Jack this morning, and I’m pretty sure it was about your story.”
She shook her head. Losing her job. Learning Sara was dead. It was all too much. She was always the girl with the plan—always the one to take action. Now, a dull numbness settled in her chest.
It was like sleepwalking.
She had to be sleepwalking.
Images of her brother, Sara, and Kate flashed through her mind. Sara and Ben had suffered many miscarriages over the years. They were so happy when Kate was born. Sure, Sara had become less social since Kate’s arrival. Her sister-in-law had become a little over the top when it came to her concerns about Kate’s welfare, but who could blame her! Zoe had written it off as just being an overprotective mother. After all those losses, she couldn’t fault the woman for being a little reclusive.
Ping!
The sound of the elevator’s arrival brought her back to reality. She’d just been fired. Her credibility was shot. She’d never work in this town again.
“You’re from Kansas City, right?” Dan asked.
“Yes, I’m from a small town near there.” Her voice sounded small and far away.
He retrieved a pad of paper from his breast pocket and scribbled a quick message. “My friend is the station manager at Kansas Public Radio,” he said, holding out the slip of paper.
She parted her lips to protest, but Dan raised a hand, and she bit back her words. This is what happens when you lose all perspective but your own. This stain could follow her forever. In her haste to help the girls at the Newcastle facility, she’d gotten careless. And in the news business, careless can kill. Kill careers. Destroy lives. Crush dreams.
Dan’s gaze softened. “It’s a small station. I can put in a good word for you. And after what happened here, it may not just be your best option. It may be your only option.”
8
“Excuse me, miss. Do you need a cab?”
Zoe gazed out at the Kansas City skyline as a plane with a white body and UPS printed in gold on its brown tail glided in for a landing. “No, thanks. I’ve got someone picking me up.”
The porter tipped his hat and moved on to another group.
She walked to the curb and looked down at the row of cars waiting to pick up passengers and shivered. It was overcast and raining. Weather-wise, May was a schizophrenic month in the Midwest. The forecast could call for snow boots on Monday and flip-flops on Tuesday. Today, Mother Nature had chosen a bitter, dreary rain. Dark clouds muted the sun, casting the city in a weepy, dismal shade of gray. She couldn’t have written a more apropos setting for her homecoming.
Discredited Reporter Returns Home to Mourn the Suicide of Sister-in-law.
She pulled her trench coat closed and tied the belt.
“Z!”
She looked up to see Michael in his old Range Rover. He attempted to smile, but the emotion fell flat. He eased the car up to the curb, cut the engine, and came around to greet her.
“Thank Christ you’re here!” He hugged her then pulled back and looked down at her bag. “Is this everything?”
She glanced at the pitiful piece of luggage. “Yeah.”
That was nearly the truth. Living in D.C. on a reporter’s salary meant living with roommates. Ninety percent of her possessions fit inside a twenty-two by fifteen-inch roller bag.
She got into the passenger seat and kept her gaze trained on the plane. She didn’t dare glance into the back. The last time she’d ridden in this car, Em had been cradled in her lap, falling in and out of consciousness. The last time she’d ridden in this car had also been the day she told Sam she never wanted to see him again; and hours later, Em had delivered the same scathing, profanity-laced proclamation to her and Michael.
Get the fuck out of here! I never want to see either of you again!
In one day, she’d lost her best friend and the only man she’d ever loved. Years had passed. After the accident, Em had abandoned music and gone to Australia to live with her mother. All Zoe knew was that Em was a teacher’s assistant at a school for deaf and hearing-impaired children in Sydney. She and Michael had tried to reach out over the years, but their calls went unanswered, and their letters came back unopened—Return to Sender.
And Sam? That was the last day she’d seen him as well. It was almost staggering how easy it was to cut him out of her life. With her brother busy with his architecture practice, his wife, and child, Michael off at college, and Gabe in New York where he’d gone to train to become a chef, they’d all drifted. She’d see Michael once in a while during her summer break when she was still in college, but they never discussed Sam. In the past couple of years, they’d fallen into a catch-up kind of rhythm.
How’s the law firm?
Fine.
How’s the reporting?
Great.
Better run! Lots to do! Talk soon!
She and Michael hadn’t discussed anything of real substance in years.
Her old friend turned on the car and pulled out into traffic. She watched him out of the corner of her eye. Despite the fancy clothes and the expensive haircut, lines of stress pulled at the corners of his eyes.
“Thanks for picking me up, and thanks for everything you’re doing for my family. I talked to my mom yesterday. She said you’ve been a godsend.”
He nodded, his gaze focused on the road. “I’m doing everything I can to help, but they need you, Z. Your mom offered to have Ben and Kate move back in with them, but he won’t hear of it.”
“Yeah, my mom told me. He’s always liked his own space. How’s Kate? Have you seen her?”
“The doctors say she should be okay. As you can imagine, your dad consulted with every specialist regarding children and carbon monoxide exposure.”
“And Sara?”
Michael rubbed at his neck. “I just confirmed with the mortuary. The service is going to be the day after tomorrow. She doesn’t have any close family, but a few of her mother’s friends from Arizona have indicated they’d like to come.”
Zoe played with the belt of her trench, and she and Michael lapsed into a stretch of silence until Midwest Medical Center came into view.
She steadied herself. “Why are you driving this car?”
His hands gripped the steering wheel a fraction tighter. “My dad’s got my Audi. His car is in the shop for a few days.”
“Did he get into an accident? Is he okay?”
His knuckles turned white. “He’ll be fine.”
She closed her eyes. There was something there, but she didn’t have the energy to delve into it. “Take me to Ben’s house.”
“You don’t want to drop your stuff at your mom and dad’s place?”
“I’m not staying there.”
Michael’s brow furrowed. “Where are you staying? I just figured—”
“I’m going to stay with Ben and Kate.”
He shook his head. “I don’t think he’ll go for it, Z. He doesn’t want anyone in the house.”
“Then I’ll crash in his carriage house.”
“But that’s…”
“Right above the garage where Sara killed herself?”
Michael glanced over, and she cocked her head to the side. She might as well say it. The means and location of Sara’s suicide was something they would all have to accept.
Michael blew out a weary breath.
Zoe went back to toying with the end of her trench belt. “Somebody needs to be there with Ben and Kate. I know why he doesn’t want to stay with my parents. My mom’s the best, but she’ll try to do everyth
ing, and that will drive Ben crazy. I know what my brother needs.”
Michael kept his gaze forward. “And what’s that?”
“He needs my usual bullshit. It’s familiar. It’s annoying. It’s normalcy.”
“What about when you have to go back to D.C? What then?”
A lump formed in her throat. She didn’t need to go back to D.C. There was nothing left for her in that city. Zoe swallowed hard. “I have as much time as I need. We don’t have to worry about that.” Her gaze dipped to her purse and the piece of paper with the Kansas Public Radio program manager’s information.
“That’s good, Z. In all honesty, I’d be glad if you stayed with Ben and Kate.”
“Does Kate understand what happened?”
Her niece was only three years old, and while she was a precocious little monster, the death of her mother had to be hitting her pretty hard.
Michael’s bottom lip trembled, but he sniffed and reined in his emotions. “She can’t go five minutes without asking for her mom. It’s fucking heartbreaking.”
Zoe settled into reporter mode. A journalist didn’t cry—at least not when she was on the job. Her function was to observe, question, and report. Coupled with her natural inclination to mask pain with humor, she was almost impenetrable.
Almost.
She folded her hands in her lap. “We’ll just take it one day at a time.”
Michael remained quiet as they drove through the heart of Langley Park’s town center. When they reached the intersection of Bellflower Street and Mulberry Drive, he pointed to a restaurant catty-corner from the old German bakery.
The words Park Tavern were splashed across the awning.
“Sam’s back,” he said. “He owns that restaurant.”
“What?” She craned her head to get a better look. She couldn’t help herself. “Did he and Gabe decide to do this together?”
Michael glanced over at the building. “Yes and no. Gabe’s still the Executive Chef in New York at his restaurant, Bread and Vine, but now he’s also a silent partner in Park Tavern.”
She gazed out the window at the quaint storefronts—many new businesses had popped up. Over the years, Langley Park had grown more vibrant. Once the home of the over seventy crowd, families with small children and young professionals had started flocking to the cozy town with its streets named after Kansas plant life and a Mayberry-like town center.
Zoe strained to get one last look at Park Tavern. “How did that even happen? What does Sam know about the restaurant business?” Truth be told, she hadn’t heard much of anything about Sam during the past decade. A sad smile pulled at the corner of her mouth, while a soft ache resonated in her chest. If anybody could pull it off though, it would be him.
Michael eased the Rover onto Ben’s street, Baneberry Drive. “Some guy Sam knows owns a few bars in the Kansas City area. He bought the place but bit off more than he could chew. Somehow, Sam ended up buying it from him. You know my cousin, after five minutes the owner was probably ready to give him the place. Sam’s the guy everybody loves.”
She knew that better than anyone.
“You didn’t think to mention this to me?” she asked.
Michael ran a hand through his auburn hair. “I’ve had my own shit going on, Zoe. I’m putting in ninety sometimes a hundred hours a week at work.”
“What about your dad? Isn’t he there?”
“Are you sure you want me to take you to Ben’s?” he huffed, changing the subject.
“Yeah, I’m sure. My brother will put up a stink, but that’s just Ben being Ben. His broody, skulking bullshit doesn’t work on me.”
Michael pulled up in front of Ben’s Tudor style home. Everything looked perfect, except for a pile of wood stacked in the perfectly manicured lawn.
“Is he building something?” she asked then glanced at the carriage house set back in the corner of the property.
“He says he’s building a shed. But that’s as much as I’ve gotten out of him. He doesn’t talk all that much to anyone but Kate. I’m lucky to get much more than a nod or a couple of words out of him, and I’m his attorney. He’s completely adamant about nobody going into the garage. I’ve had Sara’s minivan moved to a lot, and I’ve made arrangements to donate it. He says he doesn’t care where it goes. He never wants to see it again.”
“Sure, that makes sense,” she said, gaze trained on the house when the front door opened, and her brother, her niece, and Sam emerged from the Tudor.
Butterflies erupted in her belly. There he was. Same powerful build. Same strong shoulders. He’d bent down on one knee to speak to Kate. The rain had petered out, the only drops now falling onto the windshield were from the limbs of the burr oak in Ben’s front yard.
The storm had moved west, and the midafternoon sun peeked through the clouds, highlighting the gold in his auburn hair. It was shorter than she’d remembered. She exhaled and in the space of a breath, she was underwater in his arms, lips pressed together in a forbidden kiss. One of so many they’d shared those precious handful of days. She’d dated over the years, but nothing ever clicked. Nothing compared to the feel of his hands spanning the circumference of her waist, or the perfect tenderness of his gaze, or the exquisite glide of his hard length filling her completely.
Michael looked at his phone. “Ben’s not expecting us, but I just got an email from the funeral home, and I should go over a couple of things with him now.”
Zoe pressed her hand to her chest and didn’t respond, speechless at the sight of Sam.
“Are you okay, Zoe?”
A wave of guilt crashed over her. Michael must have thought it was seeing her brother and Kate that had brought on this Gone with the Wind emotional response.
She shifted her gaze to Kate. Her wild brown locks, the same color as her mother’s hair, blew across her face. Sam tucked the errant wisps behind the little girl’s ear and smiled as she continued talking.
Zoe dropped her hand to her lap. “I’m fine.”
“Okay,” Michael said and released an audible breath.
She put a hand on his arm. “You know you’re good at this, Michael. You’ve always been good at working with people, smoothing things over, making things work. People trust you.”
Emptiness flashed in his eyes. “I’m trying.”
She knew that emptiness. It was like wishing you could hear your favorite song again but knowing there was a good chance you wouldn’t.
And that song was Em.
She and Michael would always be friends, but they’d be connected forever because of the night they each betrayed her trust.
“Tati Zoe!” Kate called out, running down the brick path toward the Range Rover.
Zoe opened the car door and scooped the little girl into her arms. The sweet little thing, petite like her mother, couldn’t pronounce auntie, so Zoe had become Tati Zoe.
“Hello, little monster,” she said and pressed a kiss to her cheek.
She met Ben’s gaze as he and Sam joined them on the sidewalk.
Her brother frowned. “Why are you here?”
She narrowed her gaze. “Same reason you’re here. I couldn’t stomach staying at mom and dad’s place with all those Buddhas everywhere. Worse than a room full of Chucky dolls, and I swear, they keep multiplying like Gremlins. Every time I come home to visit, I find a new one.”
Something akin to annoyance flared in her brother’s eyes. Good. At least being annoyed was an emotion. She knew Ben. He’d disappear into a stoic, detached coma if left unchecked.
“I don’t want anyone in the house.”
She picked up Kate and shifted the toddler to her hip. “I agree. I need my space, too, so I’m staying in the carriage house.”
Ben’s nostrils flared, but he quickly schooled his features. “No one is to enter the garage.”
Jesus, he sounded like a robot.
“No biggie. I’ll just park my nonexistent monster truck and my Oscar Meyer hot dog mobile in the driveway.”
Ben nodded, barely a movement, but she caught it.
“If you’ve got a minute, Ben,” Michael said, timing the interjection just right. “I’ve got a couple of things that could use your input.”
Her brother’s face softened as he looked at Kate.
“You guys go inside and talk. This little monster is going to stay with Tati Zoe, aren’t you?”
Kate smiled. “I like hot dogs.”
Zoe patted her niece’s cheek. “See, big brother, we’re okay.”
Ben ran his hand down his daughter’s arm. “I’ll be right inside, Jellybean.”
“Okay, Daddy!”
Zoe shared one last look with her brother before he gestured toward the house, and he and Michael made their way up the path and into the Tudor.
“Sam likes hot dogs.” Kate reached out to the man.
Sam put out his hand, and Kate grabbed his finger. “Hot dogs are the best,” he said as his gaze shifted from Kate’s to hers.
The little girl yawned. “Sam likes apples.”
“Kate likes oranges,” he replied.
Zoe shifted her niece, and Kate released Sam’s finger and rested her head on her shoulder.
“Tati Zoe?” the little girl said on another yawn.
“Yeah, sweetheart? What is it?”
“Mommy’s not home. Mommy’s gone.”
Zoe held her breath and searched for the right words. If she dared breathe, she knew a sigh or worse, a sob would escape. But as her body went rigid, Kate’s went lax.
“Is she asleep?”
Sam looked away from Kate and met her gaze. She’d pictured this moment. In each scenario, her heart shattered into a thousand pieces. But what she hadn’t gauged correctly was how it would slice into her soul like she was losing him all over again. If she hadn’t been holding Kate, and if she didn’t need to be sassy, smart-ass Zoe for her brother, she might have come apart at the seams. And despite the torrent of emotions crashing through her, she hadn’t felt this much relief in years. Just the sight of him made her feel lighter, the load of the burden less taxing. Every cell in her body begged her to take one step closer to this man who had been both her salvation and her emotional annihilation.
The Complete Langley Park Series (Books 1-5) Page 114