“Will you move back to California with him?”
“Is it true he has a harem living with him?”
“Did you lie to the police to protect his identity?”
“Are you his biggest fan?”
Natalie shrank back from the blazing lights and the deafening noise. Her chest tightened, squeezing all the oxygen from her lungs. The buzzing blared in her head.
Just when she thought she was going to crumple, her sister grabbed her hand and yanked her through the hospital’s front doors.
Miranda pulled her into a quiet waiting room with its florescent lights, white–tiled floors, and heavy scent of disinfectant. “You okay, sis?”
Natalie fought to calm her breathi
ng before she hyperventilated. In. She pictured Sean’s face as he told her about the stout he was making for the invitational. Out. The feel of his fingers as he tucked her hair behind her ear. In. The sound of her name coming from his lips. Out. The way he looked at her as if she was his and always had been. Her heart rate slowed and the hospital waiting room came back into focus.
She gave her sister a thumbs–up. “Better.”
“Good. You stay here where the jackals can’t see you. I’ll go find out Sean’s room number.” Miranda marched off to the nurse’s station.
Relieved not to have to see the crowd anymore, Natalie sank down into a chair. How ridiculous was it that she could face down a deranged woman intent on blowing up the Sweet Salvation Brewery, but couldn’t handle the shouting reporters gathered outside?
“It’s horrible how they behave, isn’t it?” A thin, balding man sitting in the corner spoke up. “I told Sean I think it will only get worse now that the press has found him.”
Salvation was a small town. While she may not know every person by name, she knew pretty much all of them by sight, and this guy in his ironed designer jeans and blinged–out T–shirt with a tiger on it was definitely not local.
Wary of another sneak attack by a reporter, Natalie stiffened. “Who are you?”
“Sorry, it’s been a crazy day and I think I left my manners somewhere above Iowa.” He gave her a friendly wave. “I’m Hartley, Sean’s former manager. And you must the Natalie that Sean told me all about. I flew in this afternoon, after I heard the scuttlebutt that Rupert Crowley had found him. I wanted to warn Sean that the swarm outside was coming, but it looks like I was too late.” He shook his head. “At least he’ll have better protection from their prying eyes once he gets back home to California.”
Her heart stuttered to a stop. “He’s leaving Salvation?”
Natalie knew she shouldn’t be surprised. She’d fired him. Told him to get out of her life and stay out. He’d only come back to the brewery tonight to explain himself. That was all. It didn’t mean he wanted to stay. It sure as hell didn’t mean he wanted her. She glanced out the window at the press milling around outside. Especially not after he’d been found.
“Yes. He asked me to book him a one–way ticket. Who knows, maybe in time he’ll try acting again. He really is talented. I’m already getting offers e–mailed to me.”
What did Salvation have to offer in comparison besides a rundown brewery, a town full of people who loved nothing more than being all up in everyone else’s business, and her. She didn’t need a flowchart to demonstrate that it wasn’t enough.
“I hope everything works out just like he wants.” She squeezed out the words before anguish sealed off her throat with a lump the size of Texas.
“It can be hard for people to get the business completely out of their system—especially someone with as much talent and drive as Sean. But I’m sure he’ll call. Maybe even come back for a visit sometime. It seems like an…interesting little town.” Hartley spoke softly with the gentle understanding of a favorite uncle explaining that unicorns weren’t real. “After all, Hollywood specializes in happy endings.”
But Salvation didn’t. Not for her. She’d come back here to figure out what was wrong with her and why she’d relationship blocked herself. Now, thanks to Sean, she knew. Maybe the solution wasn’t to hold on so tight, but to finally let go—like he already had.
Usually a research breakthrough like this was cause for celebration. Not this time. The epiphany couldn’t block out the misery winding around her heart like a python and squeezing until it cracked. She couldn’t see Sean like this. If she did, she’d break right in half and probably beg him to stay. That was no way to repay him for teaching her such a valuable lesson. He deserved better than a half–broken girl in a podunk town. He deserved the Hollywood ending and she loved him too much to deny him that.
Miranda strode into the waiting room. “The old witch at the front desk says visiting hours are over.”
Holding on to what little bit of control over her emotions remained after Hartley’s revelations, Natalie grabbed her purse off the chair. “Tell Sean I wish him luck.”
Without a second glance back, she rushed from the room and out into the cold night.
The next morning, Sean blinked against the bright florescent light, bringing his hospital room into focus. White walls. White sheets. White bandages covering his left biceps. The doctors had insisted on keeping him overnight to monitor him because of the probable concussion he’d suffered.
Someone cleared their throat.
He smiled. He’d been waiting for Natalie to show up.