I ran my hand through my hair as I placed my bare feet on the floor and got out of the bed. A quick check of my phone revealed that it was a little after seven. I groaned at all the hours I’d wasted laying around in bed. There was a reason I didn’t like naps.
I turned my attention to the big, tall windows of the bedroom, the sky above dark and the sun dipping down below the western horizon, wild oranges on display all around. It was a beautiful night. Alone or not, I wasn’t going to spend it in the hotel.
After a quick shower, I dressed in a black Polo and dark jeans. As I got ready, I found myself wishing that Piper might return, that the elevator doors to the room would open and she’d step out, a big smile on her face and a bottle of something sparkly in her hands.
That didn’t happen, of course. For whatever reason, she’d gone. It was all so strange, but I put it out of my head as I poured myself a glass of water and drank it down, noticing a note on the kitchen counter.
I quickly put down my glass and stepped over to it, picking up the piece of paper and looking it over. There was no question by the swoopy, feminine handwriting that it was from Piper. I folded it and slipped it into my back pocket, grabbed my laptop, wallet, and phone then headed out.
Twenty minutes later, I was seated at the dark oak bar of the steakhouse I’d planned on taking Piper to. A whiskey sat in front of me, my laptop open as I went over the itinerary for the convention the following day. A thick porterhouse—medium rare—was on the way. Soft piano music played over the speakers.
All the while, the note burned a hole in my back pocket. I wasn’t sure, exactly, why I was putting off reading it. My vision blurred on the laptop screen, and, with a sigh, I realized there was no sense in pretending it wasn’t there.
I pulled the note out of my pocket and began to read:
Hey Valentino. Listen, I know we made plans for dinner this evening, but when I woke up lying there with you…I don’t know. Something told me the right move was to leave what we’d had at what it was. It was just a feeling, but I trust those. It was beyond great meeting you. Who knows? Maybe the universe will bring us back together one day?
Piper
I shook my head, chuckling as I slipped the note back into my pocket.
I wasn’t mad in the slightest. Looking back on my afternoon with Piper, her move was totally in character. I had to admit I was a little disappointed that I wouldn’t be getting a chance to spend dinner and the evening after with her, but that was life. If our time together was to be nothing more than a pleasant memory, then so be it.
Chapter 6
PIPER
Five years later…
“Are we there yet? We’re there, right?”
I grinned, not bothered in the slightest by hearing the same question over and over from my four-year-old daughter, Madeline. After all, with almost an hour of driving, I was more than ready to be at our new home as well.
“Just about. A couple more turns, and we’ll be there.”
“Isn’t this neighborhood cool?” I asked her, looking around.
“I guess.” Maddie picked up my phone and fiddled with it.
I wasted no time plucking it out of her hands and putting it back. “You know you’re only allowed to use that if I let you.”
“But Mommy...”
“No ‘but Mommy’. You know the rules kiddo,” I told her. “Look,” I said, gesturing at the buildings around us. “This is Capitol Hill—the best neighborhood in Denver!” I gave myself a moment to appreciate it. Capitol Hill was the place I’d had my eye on ever since it’d become apparent that our cramped little apartment in Aurora wasn’t going to cut it any longer for a single mom and her kid.
It was a hell of a place. Stately old mansions were packed along the roads, the main thoroughfares lined with cute shops, restaurants, and cafes. Most importantly, the school district was amazing—something that was a bit of a double-edged sword, as Maddie’s sulking in the passenger seat made me keenly aware of.
“I know this is a big change,” I said quietly, reaching over and putting my hand on her shoulder, giving it a squeeze.
She looked at me, then turned away. “I miss my friends.”
“I know, Mads. And seriously, you’re being such a big girl for toughing it out like this.”
Toughness was something Maddie had never struggled with. She may have only been four, but she was resilient—always taking whatever life threw at her with a smile. Between her stoicism and her dark, straight hair and chocolate-brown eyes, she reminded me more and more of her dad with each passing day. That was to say nothing about how damn smart she was.
As we drove, however, there was no mistaking her for anything but a nervous kid on the verge of a huge move.
“Listen, this is hard for us both.”
