“Stepped out willingly or were forced out?”
Oh, he was far too good at reading between the lines.
“I was strongly encouraged to step out, with the irrefutable logic that I wouldn’t be able to oversee anything while I was in graduate school.”
“That must’ve been really hard on you. Walking away from what you’d created. Something you felt that strongly about.”
She’d hated it. Hated feeling like she’d failed her family and insulted their legacy. They’d never said a word about it, but they hadn’t had to. The rest of the media hadn’t been as understanding as that initial reporter from the Providence Journal. Most of the coverage had focused on Jefferson, but there’d been plenty of speculation about her. Dropping out of the public eye had been the only way to survive.
Cecily jerked her shoulder in a shrug. “It was an expensive lesson not to be foolish in who I trust. So when I left for Northwestern, I left the Davenport name behind, along with the money and status that went with it.”
“Did they cut you off?”
“I cut myself off, other than making the occasional charitable donation. I decided that whatever I did from then on, whatever I achieved, would be on my own merit. I’d sink or swim on my own and it wouldn’t reflect on them. And it ended up being this incredibly freeing thing, to be judged on who I am, not on who my family is. So it’s just been my standard operating procedure ever since.”
“So nobody you’ve dated since college has known what you come from?”
She set the fork down and wet her throat with the last of the tea before answering. “Nobody’s mattered enough to bring it up until now.”
~*~
Reed eyed Cecily’s dark house as he pulled into the drive. “Think Christoff is asleep?”
“He’s either over at Daniel’s or he’s lying in wait to pounce on me for details the moment I walk through the door.” She shot an amused glance his way. “He was always on your side.”
“Good to know.” Reed got out and hurried around to open her door. “Ma’am.”
She took his offered hand. “You Southern boys certainly have pretty manners.”
“Some old-fashioned things are worth retaining.” He kept her hand in his as they walked up to the front porch, not wanting the night to end.
“You want to sit for a little while?”
He smiled, glad they were on the same page. “Sure.”
She led him over to the little glider.
Reed took the seat beside her and ran his hand over the wooden arm of the glider. “I’ve never seen one quite like this.”
“It’s made of upcycled shipping pallets.”
“Seriously?”
“Daniel made it. You should see some of the things he can put together. He’s working on starting a business of it. The Pallet Palace. I did his website back in the summer. Right now it’s largely custom orders, since he doesn’t have a place to store stock, but he hopes to expand eventually.” She tugged a blanket off the back. “It’s a bit chilly tonight.”
“Welcome to fall in Mississippi. Summer temps in the daytime and cold at night. C’mon.” Reed opened his arms in invitation.
She tucked the blanket around their legs and snuggled in close, resting her head against his chest. He decided it was an almost perfect end to a pretty perfect night—run-in with Annelise notwithstanding.
“So did you get what you needed out of the reading?”
Cecily laughed. “Was that really why you asked me to go?”
“Partly. Mostly I wanted to see you in my world. You fit pretty well. For a Yankee.”
“Really? That’s the part you focus on after everything you know about me?”
So sure she’d be judged on her affluent background. He skimmed his fingers through her silky hair, resisting the urge to bury his nose in the sweet, lemony scent. “It’s the only relevant part. You passed the cornbread test.”