“No, that’s not why. You know why I left? It’s because of this, right here.” She points to me. “Your attitude, your bitterness. You didn’t speak to me for weeks after the accident, and I saw you turn right before my eyes. You’re cold, unfeeling. Blame whoever you like—Neil Simpson’s addiction to Sweet, Declan Everett for bribing him—but at least take responsibility for the fact you shut down and you shut me out. A weight lifted off me the day I left my ring on your bed. I didn’t have to deal with your anger, your hate.”
I blow out a breath. “I didn’t hate you.”
“It sure felt like you did, and it still feels like you do. You can’t look at me without glaring, and you can’t step one foot in this city without rage coming off you like an inferno. This isn’t about me, not anymore. Maybe it used to be because I know how I looked leaving you the way I did, but the accident was two years ago, and you haven’t changed. You’re still the same angry man who walked out of that hospital, and I’m glad I left you.”
I nod, tilt my glass, and watch the last drop of whiskey run along the clear bottom. I am still bitter, and I need to let it go. For my own mental health and my own happiness. “You’re right. Knowing the accident wasn’t because of my impatience will help, finishing the project and putting it behind me will help, but I’m sorry, Renata. The accident changed me. I’m not the same man I used to be.”
“No, you’re not, and I hope you can find a woman who will love the man you turned into. And I don’t just mean your injuries, I mean your surliness and your gruffness. I can’t handle it. I’m not made for confrontation, constant aggravation.” She pauses. “Bill and I are getting married. I hope you can be happy for me.” She crosses Newsom’s office and wraps her arms around his waist.
I need two hands to count the number of times he’s been married and divorced, but maybe Renata will straighten him out. It’s not for me to say, not with my own love life in shambles.
I hold out my hand, and he tentatively shakes it, watching for any sign I’m going to beat him senseless, but I don’t care enough about my ex-wife and what her plans are to waste the energy.
“Did you know Renata was here? Is that why you stopped by?” Newsom asks, wanting to push me out the door. I would imagine my presence in his office is uncomfortable.
I set my glass on the edge of his desk. “No. I came to see Devyn. I need to speak with her.”
He frowns, pours another inch into his glass. “She’s not here.”
Forking my fingers through my hair, I ask with frustration, “What do you mean? She’s on an assignment? Gone on a lunch break?”
“No, I mean,she’s not here. I offered to reinstate her, and she didn’t accept. Gave me hell for it, too, accused me of not sticking up for what I believe in. She put me in a tight spot, and she knew that. I can’t have my reporters pointing fingers without evidence. I was on her side, but I had no choice. This isn’t my paper.”
“She didn’t want it?” My skin spikes hot, and a fearful sweat covers my skin. Where did she go? Did Everett do something to her? Did Stevie finally have her way? I force myself to breathe. If something happened to Devyn, Beau would have told me. To be okay, Talia needs her sister to be okay, too. “Then where has she been the past two months?”
Renata quirks her mouth. “Maybe she wanted to get away from you.”
If I wouldn’t have spent the past week talking to Liam about her and what happened between us, I would have believed that. But not now.
She loves me, and I know with every ache and pain I experience every second I’m awake, she’s waiting for me to figure my shit out.
I lied to her and said things I didn’t mean. She called me out on them as the words fell out of my mouth. She said I’d know where to find her, but I thought she meant here, at the Times. I don’t know where she could be.
Forcing a smile, I say, “That’s not who she is. You had your reasons for leaving me, and I won’t think badly of you for doing what you thought you needed to do. But Devyn has more tenacity, more stubbornness, more obstinance in her little finger than you do in your entire body. You gave up, and you can pin that on me. I’ll even take the responsibility you want to shove on me to feel better about yourself. She’s not like you, and maybe the man the accident turned me into made me need a woman like that. A woman who won’t give up. I’ll find her. I wish you two the best.”
I’m already reaching for my phone when I step out of Newsom’s office, swinging the door shut, letting them get back to whatever they were doing.
I connect Beau’s number and wait impatiently for the elevator and for him to answer. “Hendrickson.”
“Where’s Devyn?”
He chuckles. “Good afternoon to you, too. How about Happy New Year? Belated Merry Christmas, being you didn’t bother to call. How’s Talia? She’s fine. Cedar Hill’s good. We rode in a carriage through the park on New Year’s Eve and looked at the lights. That was a first for me. Do you feel like visiting? Talia and I would love to see you and Devyn, start off the New Year together. It isn’t too late.”
Beau always knew how to put me in my place. “I would if I could find her.”
A door opens in the background, then closes. Voices on his end quiet.
I step into the elevator and hope we don’t lose connection.
“Wait. Are you serious? You don’t know where she is? Talia told me you kicked her off your property. Well done.”
I’m not getting anywhere with him. He enjoys rubbing me the wrong way when he can—especially when it’s justified like it is now. “Let me talk to Talia.”
“No can do. She’s at the penthouse. I’m working. Someone has to, considering you promised you’d start putting in some time, and so far, all I’ve gotten from you are bills of sale for property around Old Harbor, though the pictures of the shore are beautiful. I want to see a rendering of the resort you’re thinking of no later than the end of this month. I want to break ground the second it thaws.”
“I don’t care about any of that. I need to know where Devyn is.” I step out and into the lobby, dodge around people in my haste to go...where?
He sighs. “Rick, she’s in Old Harbor.”