Meant to Be (Whisper Creek #5)(94)

Cooper turned toward the window, trying not to pace as he tapped the screen. "Hey, Lionel. What's the news?"

"You sitting down?"

"Nope. I'm pacing like a caged frigging animal."

"Okay, that works, too. You interested in not pacing anymore?"

"Hell, yes."

"Well, I've got news that'll help with that. We have a confession."

"Seriously?" Cooper's eyes went wide, then connected with Dad's.

"Signed. Sealed. Delivered. Just got the news five minutes ago."

"And you waited this long to call?" Cooper ran a hand through his hair. Holy shit. Could it really be true? Was it really over?

"You're a free man, Cooper. But when somebody comes to you wanting the movie rights to this insane story, I want dibs on the commission, okay?"

"You've got it."

"Come by and see me in the morning, all right? I imagine it'll hit the press by tomorrow night. We can decide if you want to put out a statement or anything."

"No statements."

Lionel chuckled. "Figured. But had to give you the option. We'll talk tomorrow, all right? Go order yourself a nice lobster dinner or something. Better yet, invite your parents out with you."

Cooper tipped his head. "Sorry?"

"Guardian angels come in all shapes and sizes, Cooper … and sometimes they're a little late to the party. But apparently, your father's been driving your mother to that prison twice a week for three months now. Just thought you'd want to know that." 





Chapter 29


"So you're in Boston? Seriously?" The next morning, Lexi's voice sounded like it was in the next room, except that Shelby could hear a horse whinnying in the background. The sound made her long for her little cabin at Whisper Creek, rather than this sprawling, lonely suite on the top floor of yet another hotel in yet another city.

Lexi had been calling twice a week since Shelby'd left Whisper Creek, and it was a friendly lifeline Shelby was starting to depend on, in the chaos of the tour.

"We rolled in overnight from New York, yep."

"How's the week been?"

Shelby wrinkled her nose. "It's-fine. It's okay."

"Wow. Is someone pulling out your fingernails while we're talking?"

"Yes." Shelby laughed. "One by painful one."

"Must be hard to know you're in the same city as Cooper right now."

"Yeah." Shelby sighed. "Yeah, it really is."

"Are you going to try to look him up?"

"I don't even know how to." She flopped onto the couch. "He changed his number."

"You called him?"

Shelby cringed. Apparently she hadn't mentioned that little detail before. "Um, maybe?"

"And now that you're completely sober? Still want to see him?"

She laughed. "I wasn't drinking. Of course I want to see him, Lex. I'm dying here. I'm sitting here in a hotel room that overlooks this entire city, and he's down there somewhere, but I have no idea how to find him."

"Have you tried looking him up online?"

"Yes. Do you have any idea how many Cooper Davises there are in the greater Boston area?"

"Nope."

"A lot. I wouldn't even know where to start, and my show's tonight, and then we roll out at midnight. Even if I could spend the day cold-calling every Cooper Davis in the city, I don't even know what I'd say, if I found the right one."

"Hm. Let's see-how about 'I miss you, I think I might love you, and please run away with me to a secret island in the Caribbean until your case goes away and my tour's over?' Would that work?"

Shelby laughed. "Yes. Perfect. I'm sure he'd hop right on a plane with me so I could add aiding and abetting to my résumé." She rolled her eyes. "It is killing me to know he's holed up somewhere, facing this case by himself. Also killing me that he changed his number and hasn't even once gotten in touch."

"Well, we know why, Shelby. He's trying to protect you."

"I know. Maybe." She sighed. "Honestly, I actually don't even know anymore. He's killing me, is what he's doing. I can get behind the protecting-me piece, but there's no reason we couldn't talk privately, right? Or text? Or whatever the socially accepted way to communicate is these days?"

"Would that really be better, if you knew you couldn't be together? Or just make it more painful?"

"I don't know. I really don't."

"You sure he hasn't tried?"

Shelby pictured the long, long list of unanswered calls on her phone. No matter how many times she changed numbers, unidentified callers still snuck through-some of them by accident, some of them by hacker intelligence-so if she didn't recognize the number, she didn't answer. She figured if a call was legit, the person would leave a message.