Second, she kept seeing Mrs. Franklin’s face and hearing her voice. She’d said the town council would want to speak to him. In other words, the town council would be firing him.
That was her fault. If she’d never come here, Mike’s job would never have been at risk. He’d have finished his probationary period, secured a permanent position and melted right into island life. He’d probably have met a nice woman and had that pot-roast-and-picket-fence lifestyle he’d once mentioned.
Now it was all ruined, because of her.
He would lose his job. Considering his family and friends were all in Chicago, that would be the first place he’d consider retreating to. If she were still a part of his life, her presence there would only add to that instinctive reaction.
Once he was in Chicago, how long would it be before he had to get into the line of work she knew he loved? He might not want to get shot at, but being a cop was part of who he was. He’d end up back on the Chicago P.D. Back in the line of fire.
“No,” she whispered, heartsick at the very thought of it. Even if she was just his short-term, sexy fling, no way did she want him to ever put himself into more dangerous situations.
She couldn’t let it happen. She just couldn’t.
Finally, knowing she had to do something about it, she got on the phone and made several phone calls. She skipped Mrs. Franklin, well aware that was a lost cause. But she had met the other members of the town council over the past couple of months, and believed them to be nice and reasonable men.
She told them all her story, stressing how little Mike had to do with her presence here on the island. She made sure they understood that he’d had no idea who she was or what she did for a living when she’d accepted the job at the school. She said she’d tried to offer her full credentials to the school administrators, who hadn’t seemed the least bit interested. And she finished by reminding them it would be patently unfair for Mike to get any of the blame for whatever notoriety she brought on the town, and that under no circumstances should Callie be blamed, either, since she’d been in the middle of a horribly stressful personal situation.
They’d been very nice. Very understanding.
And, when they found out what her big secret was, very flirtatious. Dirty old dogs.
By the time she’d hung up from the last call, she was confident that Mrs. Franklin wasn’t going to get her way as far as Mike Santori went. The fact that she’d told every one of the council members about Ollie’s nightmarish tactics with women would help, too. Ollie’s uncle, the former chief, might support him, but nobody on the town council did, other than Mrs. Franklin. And after today, even her support might be tenuous.
Finally, when Lindsey was sure she’d done all she could, she began to pack. She threw her things in boxes and dumped them in her car. The phone rang twice. She checked the caller ID and ignored Callie’s call, and then Mike’s. Hearing a loving, consoling voice might make her feel better, but it wouldn’t help her do what had to be done.
She had to leave. Now.
She would go back to the mainland. She’d already turned in her final grades for her students... There was nothing holding her here. It was time—past time—to go home and try to reclaim her life. If her bosses didn’t want her, well, there were other clinics. Maybe more progressive ones where women’s sexual issues weren’t treated as a joke.
She could go back to the real her—self-reliant, self-controlled, not needing anyone. Well, at least, not allowing herself to need anyone.
Meanwhile, Mike’s life could return to normal. He could stay here, happily. Safely. Without her.
Her heart was breaking as she finished loading up the car. It cracked completely when she sat down to write him a note, explaining why she’d left. He might never forgive her for leaving like this, without having the guts to say goodbye to his face. The trouble was, if she saw him, she wouldn’t be able to say goodbye. She simply loved him too much.
She propped the note on the doorknob, knowing he’d come to the cottage tonight when he didn’t hear from her. Then she got in the car.
Sitting behind the wheel, the enormity of everything that had happened this afternoon washed over her. She felt drained, physically and emotionally. She suspected she might be experiencing a hint of shock, but forced herself to keep moving forward.
But not until she’d cried a little.
Or a lot.
Once the long-held-in tears began to flow freely from her eyes, she found them impossible to stop.
It had been a long time since she’d really cried. Such a long time. These weren’t quiet, soft tears, either. This was ugly, raw, violent sobbing. Her throat hurt, her eyes hurt and a glance in the rearview mirror revealed she looked as hideous as she felt.