I’m the only one who hasn’t commented, and I clear my throat. “My family will be pleased with the direction you’re going.”
She deserves more. But between wanting to match her demeanor and feeling the heavy disappointment of the way she spoke about me to Catherine, keeping it short and cordial is the best I can do. Besides, she basically told Catherine I’m too much of a lightweight for my opinion to matter anyway.
The meeting wraps up not too much later, and when Michaela adjourns it, I make sure to shake hands with everyone, including Phoebe, who I strategically encounter right in the middle. She gives my hand an extra squeeze and looks me in the eye, hers glinting like we’ve got a secret, but I give her the same sociable smile I’m giving everyone else. That only ticks the corners of her lips up even higher, as if she’s in on the joke.
She moves on to Catherine next, and I listen even as I’m shaking hands with Dr. Smithson.
“Well done, Ms. Hopper. That showed some …” Catherine pauses.
“Spirit?” Phoebe suggests, and I hear the smile in her voice.
“And initiative,” Catherine adds.
“Thank you,” Phoebe says. “I know you need to get on the road, so I won’t hold you up, but I appreciate that.”
“I’ve decided it’s probably best I don’t drive back to Boston until the morning from now on. But I do need to get to the hotel in time forThe Kardashians.”
Phoebe gives a startled laugh, and I want to see both their expressions, but right now, I’m more frustrated than curious, and it’s not worth turning around to face Phoebe and pretend her earlier words to Catherine didn’t hurt.
A few minutes later, I apologize to everyone for running off but explain I’m tired from a turnaround trip and assure them all I look forward to our next board meeting.
I’m halfway to the cottage when my phone buzzes with a text.
Phoebe
Good job. See you in a few.
But when I get to the cottage, I don’t bother turning the lights on, because for my peace of mind, as far as Phoebe is concerned right now, I’m not home.
Chapter Thirty-Six
Phoebe
I did it.
I freaking did it.
I impressed Catherine Crawford.
Not that she’s about to go hog wild and nominate me for Miss Serendipity or anything, but she’s likely quit revising her argument for why I should be fired. She’s filed it, not deleted it, but it’s progress, and I do a little dance when the last board member leaves the house, taking myself on a spin around the entire ballroom. I hold up the skirt of my imaginary ballgown and give a dazzling smile to all the Martin ancestors who are surely watching in satisfaction as I take my victory lap, doing something between a waltz and a line dance.
Then the idea of any ancestors watching me, even pleased ones, creeps me out ever so slightly, and I scurry back to the library to pack up.
Jay nailed it in his role of professional board member and nothing more. He didn’t give Catherineanythingto suspect between us. He came off as aloof, which is exactly how two people who aren’t interested in each other should act. I can’t wait to congratulate each other, hear what he thinks of themeeting, and find out about his trip. I kept my fingers crossed for him the last two days to find the breakthrough he needs.
When I lock up and turn toward my car, ready to drop off my work bag and go catch up with Jay, I notice the cottage is dark. It’s not full night yet, but it’s dusky enough for him to need lights inside.
I pull out my phone to check my texts, but I don’t have any new ones. He’s read my last one, but now he’s offline. The first tendril of unease curls through my chest, but I take a deep breath to disperse it and blow it out slowly. It’s fine. I know he’s not that guy. He doesn’t suddenly check out. Not the here-today-engaged-to-someone-else-next-month type.
Heisa guy who drove five hours to go right into a two-hour meeting. I can’t blame him for crashing, and I’d only drain him more right now with an interrogation about his research trip and an exhaustive postmortem of Catherine’s reaction to my presentation.
Maybe it’s for the best that I go home and think about it first. I’ve won Catherine Crawford’s trust. Some of it, anyway. Does that mean I can let Jay out of the friend zone? He’s at least half out already. Or does this mean that I can’t undermine Catherine’s trust by getting into a relationship with Jay?
Yeah, okay. Best to think about all this.
Doing some more detective work is a better call than running at Jay with golden retriever energy, flailing about all the things and begging to be let into Jay’s lap again.
Because that will be my impulse around him forever now that I know what it’s like to be there.
