“Then he packed before he left,” Adam comments, hands settling on his hips. “You don’t grab your underwear and socks as you run for your life.”
“What about the signs of a struggle?” Asher says, kicking a piece of the broken mug. “He could have had a bag ready to go when an unwanted visitor showed up.”
“Whatever the case,” I say. “We’re done here. Let’s go home.”
Adam frowns. “That’s it?” Adam challenges. “We’re done here? There was an obvious struggle.”
“No blood,” I say. “No body. Max knows this land. I told you. He’s booby-trapped this terrorist. He would have led his enemies to their death. And I did what I promised I’d do.”
“Except no one knows where you put that data drive,” Asher reminds me.
“If Max is alive,” I say, “he’ll call. If he’s dead, it’s a non-issue.”
“And if that data drive has something to do with you?” Adam asks.
“If it did, whoever is after him would have come for me,” I say. “This is over.”
“What if it’s not?” Adam argues. “He pulled you into this. Maybe he used you as some sort of fall guy.”
I have no reason to believe Max would betray me or I wouldn’t be here, except that one moment when we were handed those envelopes. “I’d kill about anyone for this kind of money.” It sits worse every time I have the memory. And, I remind myself, there were other moments when I questioned him, but couldn’t put my finger on why.
But he also saved my life.
Three times.
I glance between Asher and Adam. Every minute they’re here, they become more a part of my past. They don’t belong in my past and neither do I. That’s what doesn’t feel right.
“We’re done,” I say firmly and to make my point, I cross the living room, exit the cabin, and walk to the car. It’s time to go home to my future wife.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Candace
I wake alone in bed and bury myself in Savage’s pillow, inhaling the scent of him. I don’t know how I did this all those years Savage and I were apart. For some reason, I convinced myself he’d be home when I woke up. I force myself out of the bed, head downstairs to the gym, and workout. A girl has to look good for her wedding. After which, I shower, dress casually because I have no plans but to work, and head to the kitchen. With an egg white omelet and coffee by my side, I sit at the island and end up sketching something unplanned: a house on the beach, in the Hamptons, for me and Savage. My mind and hands go crazy and soon I have the outline of something special I can’t wait to show him.
My cellphone rings, and hoping it’s Savage, I grab it to find an unknown number. I’m instantly nervous that this is bad news about Savage. He’d call me Negative Nelly and he’d be right. I can’t seem to help it right now. I answer quickly. “This is Candace,” I say, and for some reason, I regret announcing my name. God, I’m so paranoid right now.
“Candace, this is Robin Newman from the World Museum.”
“Oh hello, Robin,” I say relief easing my tense shoulders. This isn’t bad news. Well aside from her running the museum that canceled a big contract I had scored. Still, we’d connected, even became casual friends. My world is filled with friends these days, and it’s rather lovely. And just one more way Savage has touched my life and changed it. “How are you?” I ask.
“Good.” Her voice is light, cheery, even if not a tad hyped like she too is drinking gallons of caffeine. “Very good, actually,” she adds. “You know that wing we wanted you to design?”
“Of course,” I assure her. “You know I was excited about that job. And disappointed when funding fell through.”
“Well good news!” she sing-songs. “We have a new investor.”
My heart leaps. “Really? Oh my God. I want this job so much.”
“And I want you to have it,” she assures me, “but this investor’s insistent he meet the architect and approve the plans before he writes the check. Any chance you could meet for drinks tonight?”
I’m a mix of excited and hesitant. I want Savage home. I want to see him. I want to be here when he arrives. But I don’t know when that will be. And he’d be upset if I missed this opportunity. I could in fact cause the museum to lose this money if I don’t go.
“Yes,” I say, “but I need to remind you that I get married in less than a week and I’m going on my honeymoon.”
“I remember. I was invited to the wedding.”
I laugh. “Right. Bride nerves are kicking in, I think.”
“Of course they are. How can they not be? It’s a fun, exciting time. And the time off won’t be a problem. We just need to lock down the money.”