“Remember me? Chase’s sister, Stefanie Ferguson.” Stef gestured to herself rather than offer a hand since Miriam was regarding her with wide, wary eyes. No doubt the poor woman had been hounded since the story broke about her and Chase.
“Stefanie.” Miriam’s shoulders relaxed some, her guard dropping. “Nice to see you.”
“You, as well. Is... Chase expecting you?” Surely he would’ve mentioned it, or appeared more nervous...or anticipatory. Something.
“No. He’s not.” Miriam gave a quick shake of her head.
Interesting.
Stefanie stepped closer. “Why are you in Dallas?”
“Um... Long story.”
I bet.
“Lucky for you, I found you first. I know where Chase is, but a burly security guy is blocking the room. I can get you in.”
Hope blossomed on Miriam’s face—she really was beautiful. Elegant and lithe, with full lips and expressive dark eyes.
“Penelope told me where to find him and about the press conference.” Miriam’s mouth curved into a slight smile. “I came, which I’m sure is a terrible idea. Or at least it is for his career.”
“Why’s that?” Stef leaned in, interested. The reason behind Miriam’s presence was too juicy not to pry.
“Stefanie, darling, there you are!” Eleanor Ferguson approached with quick steps. “Am I too late? Did the press conference start without me? Have you seen Penelope?”
Before Stefanie had a chance to answer any of those questions, Eleanor did a double take of Miriam. Stefanie watched as her mother’s face drew down in recognition.
Miriam faced her, pulled her shoulders back and addressed her curtly. “Hello, Eleanor.”
* * *
Definitely, Miriam hadn’t thought this through.
By the time she’d arrived at that conclusion, she’d also arrived in Dallas thanks to a hefty sum paid for a private jet so as not to risk being delayed at the airport.
She couldn’t afford to delay one more moment. Ten years had been long enough, and then she’d gone and tacked on another week or so for good measure. Every inch of her ached with words unsaid and emotions unexpressed.
Penelope had called yesterday, and since Chase had delivered her phone number personally, Miriam knew to take the call. The other woman had a plan to unravel the “bad press” surrounding them, but Miriam didn’t care about her reputation. She only cared about Chase’s.
“If he’s anything like his brother, my husband,” Penelope had told her, “then Chase is not going to take my advice. He wants to call off the hounds, but I advised him not to come to your defense with the press. I’m concerned they’ll twist the story and make him the bad guy. I don’t want you to worry about that, though. Don’t think of me as taking sides where you and Chase are concerned. My job is to preserve both your careers and reputations. Everyone’s winning.”
Miriam liked Penelope’s confidence, but she liked more what she’d said about Chase coming to Miriam’s defense. Penelope shared details about the press conference and dropped the name of the conference center, though it was more conversational than intentional.
“When the news hits, and videos and Tweets start, we’ll be an hour ahead of it,” Pen had said. “One of the stipulations for the press members we chose was that they agreed to wait sixty minutes before sharing anything they learn in that room.”
Miriam had gone to bed that night, but she hadn’t fallen asleep. She’d stared at the ceiling, stealing a glance at her glowing blue alarm clock now and then. First at midnight, then 1:00 a.m., 1:30 a.m., 2:30 a.m. and finally 4:45 a.m., when she’d given up trying to sleep at all.
She couldn’t sleep. She couldn’t escape the idea that nothing was as it should be. Chase should be in Dallas: of that she was certain. But not without knowing the truth—a truth she hadn’t shared when he stood in her kitchen a few days ago.
Sure, she’d told him a partial truth. She wanted to work with kids. She wanted to save the environment. But she let him believe that her future was wrapped up in her job and that none of it involved him.
That couldn’t be further from the truth.
In her defense, she hadn’t admitted as much to herself until he was thousands of feet in the air and zooming away from her and her beloved home state.
The next morning, after drinking her second cup of coffee, she made the jittery, spontaneous decision to fly to Dallas.
Ten years ago, he’d put her on a plane back to Montana. He’d let her believe that her leaving was what he wanted. Even recently when they were snowed in together, he’d defended his actions by saying it’d been the right thing to do. He believed he’d been chivalrous, that he’d been protecting her, but she didn’t think he’d done what he wanted.