Call Me Irresistible (Wynette, Texas #5)(105)

As a clap of thunder shook the building, she thought how easily that kind of promise could be broken.

In the choir loft, she found a pair of jeans Dallie and Skeet had overlooked when they'd packed up her things. There was still food in the kitchen, but she had no appetite. Instead, she paced the old pine floor and thought of everything that had brought her to this moment. Ted couldn't change who he was. Had she really believed he could love her? How could she have thought, even for a moment, that she was different from the rest?

Because he'd shown her parts of himself he'd never shown anyone else, and that had made her feel different. But it had all been an illusion, and now she had to leave because staying here was impossible.

The thought of never seeing him again nearly made her crumple, so she focused on the practicalities. The old, irresponsible Meg would have jumped in her car that night and run off. But her new, improved version had obligations. Tomorrow was her day off, so no one would be expecting her at work, and she had time to do what she needed to.



       
         
       
        

She waited until she was sure Skeet would be asleep before she returned to his house. As his snores rumbled down the hallway, she sat at the desk in his office where she'd been working on her jewelry and picked up a yellow pad. She made notes for whoever would take over the drink cart, explaining how best to stock it, listing the preferences of the regulars, adding a few lines about recycling cups and cans. Maybe her job wasn't brain surgery, but she'd more than doubled the revenue from the drink cart, and she was proud of that. At the end, she wrote, A job is what you make it. But she felt foolish and crossed it out.

As she finished a bracelet she'd promised Torie, she tried not to think about him, but that was impossible, and by dawn, when she slipped the bracelet into a padded envelope, she was bleary-eyed and exhausted, sadder than she could ever remember.

Skeet was eating his Cap'n Crunch at the kitchen table, the sports page propped in front of him, when she came out. "Good news," she said, forcing a smile. "My stalker has been identified and neutralized. Don't ask me for details."

Skeet looked up from his cereal. "Ted know about this?"

She struggled against the wave of pain that threatened to drown her whenever she thought of never seeing him again. "Yes. And I'm moving back into the church." She didn't like lying to Skeet, but she needed an excuse to pack up her things without arousing his suspicions.

"Don't see why you need to hurry off," he grumbled.

As he returned to his Cap'n Crunch, she realized she'd miss the old curmudgeon, right along with a lot of other people in this crazy town.

Lack of sleep and too much pain had worn her out, and she'd barely started packing before she gave in and lay down. Despite her bleak dreams, she didn't awaken till early afternoon. She finished packing quickly but still didn't get to the bank until nearly three o'clock. She withdrew all but twenty dollars from her meager account. If she closed the account, every teller in the place would start quizzing her, and five minutes after she walked out the door, Ted would know she was leaving. She couldn't bear another confrontation.

The town's only mailbox sat by the front steps of the small post office. She mailed her drink-cart notes and her letter of resignation to Barry, the assistant manager. As she dropped in the envelope with Torie's bracelet, a car pulled into the no-parking zone. The driver's window slid down, and Sunny Skipjack poked out her head. "I've been looking for you. I forgot the club was closed today. Let's grab a drink so we can talk."

Sunny was all sleek efficiency with her shiny dark hair and platinum jewelry. Meg had never felt more breakable. "Not a good time, I'm afraid," she said. "I have a million things to do." Like get in my car and turn my back on the man I love so much. 

"Cancel them. This is important."

"Is it about your father?"

Sunny looked at her blankly. "What about my father?"

"Nothing."

A few people on the sidewalk stopped to watch, none of them trying to be discreet about it. Sunny, the busy executive, tapped impatient fingers on the steering wheel. "Are you sure you can't spare a few minutes from your busy schedule to discuss a possible business venture?"

"Business venture?"

"I've seen your jewelry. I want to talk. Get in."

Meg's plan for the future was foggy at best. She weighed the risk of postponing her departure for an hour against the benefit of hearing what Sunny had to say. Sunny might be a pain in the ass, but she was also a smart businesswoman. Meg set aside her reluctance to enter an enclosed space with another Skipjack and got in the car.