He snorted. “I knew you’d be good at this.”
Cade watched as Rosalyn filled in the map. “So—that’s it? The whole story?”
Rosalyn glanced over her shoulder, then nodded, avoiding his eyes. “The important parts.”
He wondered. But she’d trusted him with this much of her story—if there was more, she’d tell him eventually. “Are you sure there’s nothing I can do to help? You know, legally with your paperwork? Maybe Blaine isn’t familiar with how to get it dissolved quickly.”
Rosalyn quickly shook her head. “No, he’ll get it done. It’s just the international red tape.”
Convenient, but—he wouldn’t push his opinion.
He cleared his throat and pointed to the pothole to her right. “So, what do you think?”
Relief filled her eyes, and she tapped one finger on her chin and pretended to study the shallow divot. “Pup tent?”
“Nailed it.” He scribbled the words on the map, making sure his hand didn’t shake in front of her. Making sure the plan cooking in his mind wasn’t obvious.
Whether she wanted help or not, whatwasobvious was she needed it. And if she wasn’t going to confide in her parents, then the least he could do was check out the red flags waving in his Yale-educated subconscious about the legalities of it.
Secretly, of course. Because they’d finally seemed to find their way back to a fledgling friendship, and he wouldn’t screw it up again.
No matter how much he wanted more with her.
seventeen
The next week flew by in a tangle of silks, spreadsheets, and veggie burgers.
Rosalyn waited at the front desk in the Magnolia Library for Harper, who had gone to get the final schedule for the Friends of the Library booth that Mrs. Peters insisted on Cade having. A cluster of kids giggled from the children’s area, and the scent of lemon cleaner hovered over the polished counter. The bank of computers across the far wall were empty, save for a man in a fedora hunched over the desktop keyboard. He looked up, made eye contact, then looked back to the screen. To her left, a janitor ran a push-broom over the foyer floor.
Rosalyn soaked in the quiet, the peace, the scent of old novels. Since her confession during the mapping, she’d seen Cade every day and, thankfully, they’d found their old—or maybe new?—rhythm. She’d brought him lunch that Elisa supplied from the diner, helped update spreadsheets on her way back from training, and trotted with him around town, checking on vendors and responding to a dozen phone calls. She’d even snuck him a veggie patty once or twice and he hadn’t noticed it wasn’t beef, which only proved how stressed he was.
He thought he was hiding it, but she recognized the crinkles in the corner of his eyes, the forced edges to his smile, from senior year study hall. When Mrs. Peters insisted Cade come get the schedule that he absolutely didnotneed, she’d immediately volunteered in his stead.
The midday walk—and the brief respite from the proximity to Cade in his office—had done wonders to clear her own head. Forgetting their kiss and remembering all the new boundaries hadn’t been easy the past week. Neither had trying to figure out if the chemistry she still felt was only on her side, or if maybe he was that talented an actor after all.
Of course, checking over her shoulder every few hours reminded her why she was making the choices she was making.
She and Cade hadn’t spoken of her issues with Blaine again, save for Cade asking once more if there was anything he could do to help on the legal side. To which she’d adamantly assured him no. The last thing she needed was Cade discovering the truth about her loan, the Mafia. She couldn’t put anyone else in her danger—hence her ultimate reason for not wanting her parents to know. If the wrong people realized how wealthy Dad was, they could come after her family for what Rosalyn owed.
She’d much rather grit her teeth and pay off her debt and put it all behind her. But that meant trusting Blaine to do what he’d said he was going to do…and somehow keeping him happyandat bay until he did.
“Here it is!” Harper returned to the counter, sliding the laminated schedule across the desk. She winked. “I hope Cade is paying you extra to be his assistant.”
“Ha.” Rosalyn took the list, still warm from the laminator. “I think you’re the one going over and above.” She wiggled the sheet of paper.
Harper rolled her eyes with a smile. “I don’t mind. It could be worse.” She peeked over her shoulder and lowered her voice. “That’s one plus of having been friends with Amber for all of high school—she prepared us for difficult bosses.”
“She’d probably be mad at me now if she knew I was helping Cade this much for free.” Rosalyn grinned. “I can almost hear her giving me a lecture on women’s rights and wages.”
Harper straightened a stack of bookmarks. “To be fair, she probably kept us from unnecessary heartache. Getting past her to go on a date wasn’t worth the fight, was it?”
Well, Cade might have been worth it. But he hadn’t ever asked.
And Rosalyn sure wasn’t going to have been prom date number three.
She shrugged, hoping to appear unaffected. Old habits died hard when it came to talking about boys with this group of girls. “Maybe.”
“You do realize why she hated Cade so much, right?” Harper asked.
