Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 95606 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 478(@200wpm)___ 382(@250wpm)___ 319(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95606 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 478(@200wpm)___ 382(@250wpm)___ 319(@300wpm)
Sig had turned all the way around by now, a strange ripple passing through his chest on repeat. “She didn’t speak to her yesterday?” He lowered his voice. “Chloe said Tallulah sent her the article.”
Burgess raised an eyebrow, repeated the question to his fiancée—and shook his head. “Tallulah didn’t send her anything.”
Alarm pitched in Sig’s stomach. What the fuck was he missing here? He whipped back around in his seat and dialed again. Why would Chloe lie about who’d sent her the article? It didn’t make any sense. Yet. Something wasn’t clicking. He just needed to speak to her and clear everything up. There had to be an explanation.
“Hello. Clifford residence.”
Sig looked down at his phone to make sure he’d dialed the correct number. Chloe’s name was on the screen, but the woman’s voice on the other end belonged to someone else. “Who is this?”
“I need no introduction, but whatever. This is Grace.”
Grace? Grace. He searched his jumbled thoughts for that name and why it sounded so familiar. When the answer came to him, it did absolutely nothing to calm him down. Chloe’s mentor. “Where is Chloe? Why do you have her phone?”
Visions of beeping machines and hospital gowns were flashing in his head. “She’s at my place. Well, physically she is here. Mentally, I’m not so sure.” There were some footsteps, followed by the ethereal flow of notes that he instantly recognized as harp music. Not just any harp music, but the kind that came from Chloe. His heart recognized when something belonged to her. “When she showed up here this afternoon, she said she’d play until her fingers bled and I think she meant it. I can’t get her to stop.”
Sig’s chest was trapped between two boulders. In one sense, he was relieved.
In another, he was more alarmed than he’d been ten minutes ago.
Until her fingers bled? That didn’t sound like his girl at all.
“I don’t understand.” Sig’s head started to pound. “Is she okay?”
“She’s . . . incredible, actually. I think we hit a breakthrough around two hours ago. Dropping her might have been the best move I could have made.”
“Dropping her?” he repeated, throat dry.
“After reading about her in the gossip section? Like a sack of potatoes, my guy.” The woman sighed. “Then she showed up here with a speech that gave me chills—and I don’t get those easily. I’m pretty sure the last time I got chills, I was at the Magic Mike show in Vegas. But I digress. She begged me to take her back, promised to work her tail off . . . and here we are.”
Pieces of the story were locking into place. Tallulah hadn’t sent Chloe the article.
Grace had.
And she’d let her go as a mentee over it.
Why the hell didn’t Chloe tell him any of this?
Burgess smacked him on the shoulder. “What’s up? You find her?”
“Uh. Yeah.” Sweat was causing his dress shirt to cling and he couldn’t swallow to save his life. “Yeah, I found her. You can tell Tallulah not to worry.”
“What is a Tallulah?” Grace asked, followed by the sound of a martini shaker. “Listen, Sig. It is very apparent to me that you and Chloe are madly in love. The first time I met her, she called you ‘the most perfect human on earth.’ Which, barf.” Liquid was poured into a glass, but he could barely hear anything over the crashing waves in his head. “Unfortunately, the fact that you love each other is also obvious to a reporter at the Globe. And more will follow, I’m sure. She had to make a choice.”
“Put her on the phone,” he rasped, moving beyond panic into a place he’d never been before. His entire body had gone numb. Was he in shock?
“Do you hear the magic she’s making? I’m not interrupting that.”
As soon as he talked to her, everything would make sense. “Please.”
Grace let out a long breath. “Hold on.”
The bus had pulled up at the team entrance of the arena. Players were filing off the bus, shoving each other and shouting as they passed his row. Somehow he knew Burgess hadn’t budged. That he was still sitting behind him. But Sig couldn’t move, couldn’t turn around. Couldn’t breathe. Finally, the music stopped and his hand flexed involuntarily around the phone, listening for her voice. Her footsteps. Anything.
Finally, “Hi, Sig.”
That was all it took. Two words and he knew. She was ending things.
The regret in her voice told the whole story.
“Chloe,” he started thickly, leaning forward in his seat. Subtly rocking side to side. Restless. Helpless. Oh God, what the fuck was happening here? “You should have told me about Grace. I’m sorry that happened—it’s . . . this is all my fault—”
“No, it’s my fault. I spoke to that reporter during the last home game and . . . I don’t know, maybe by that point nothing I could have said to him would have made a difference. Even a denial. People can see what’s between us, you know? We don’t hide it very well.”