It was time to let something else go.
“Goodbye, Divorcée Woman. Thanks for everything.”
Have a good life, Meredith. You deserve it.
Yes, she darn well did. She headed off in the direction of her favorite lingerie boutique. The first thing she would do was buy cotton underwear—an early Christmas present to herself. With her courage restored, she could return to her old faithful.
Cars streaked by, honking in noisy bursts. Brake lights flickered red when traffic halted. Ah, New York. She was going to miss it, but she was happy to leave it on her own terms. Her future was bright. She knew what she wanted, and by God, she was going to do everything she could do to get it.
Just like one of Nora’s characters.
She was going to fly back home to her own Roarke. He did exist in real life.
He existed for her.
Chapter 57
Ignoring the hospital smell in Tanner’s room—pee-yew—Jill looked up from the legal pad she was doodling on, hoping to see Brian coming down the hall for another visit. There was still a certain wariness between them, like they were trying to decide what to do with each other when everything returned to normal. But he’d been coming around—even bringing delicious meals. She’d realized she’d missed him as a friend—even if she were still attracted to him. The other realization had been her need for a new focus. Writing in stream of consciousness on the pad was helping her to see what bubbled up.
Across the room, her grandpa was playing cards with Peggy and Tanner, and her mom and dad had volunteered to make a run for coffee at Don’t Soy With Me. The hospital stuff tasted like crap.
Footsteps sounded in the hall. She glanced over to the open door. Brian materialized, looking hot in jeans and a blue fleece.
“Hey,” he said to everyone. “How’s it going?”
After the pleasantries were exchanged, he sat on the edge of the ugly floral chair where she was sitting. He pointed to her legal pad, his brows knitting together. “What are you doing?”
“Brainstorming. I need a new project.”
“You get bored too easily,” her grandpa muttered, slapping down his cards. “Just like me. Gin.”
“I think you’re cheating, old man.” Peggy shuffled the cards. “Don’t make me frisk you.”
“My dear, it would be my pleasure,” he responded. “We’re going to need a new deputy sheriff here. You should think it over, Peggy. Dare’s a nice town. I’ll give you and Keith a personal tour when your brother gets back on his feet. Families should be together.”
Peggy’s mouth twitched. “We’ll see.”
“How can I stay here when the person I’m staying for left without a word?” Tanner barked.
“Red hot, anyone?” Grandpa Hale interrupted.
“I’ll have one.” Keith jumped off Tanner’s hospital bed, where he sat perched like a parrot. The kid hadn’t had a meltdown since he’d arrived, thankfully. Seeing him sob in his mom’s arms near Tanner’s bedside had pretty much done everyone else in.
Brian sat on the edge of her chair and peeked at her drawing. “So, what’s it going to be this time?”
“I don’t know,” she responded, looking at her hodgepodge of words and symbols. Everything had something to do with food—but on a bigger scale than Don’t Soy with Me. She made a humming sound as her intuition finally showed her the way. “Maybe I’ll open a restaurant. Something fun and hip.”
He rubbed his chin. “Huh. And I’m a chef…”
She trailed her eyes up his chest until she was looking straight into those Bengal tiger blue eyes. “Huh?”
“Are you beating around the bush here?”
“Mwuh-ha-ha-ha!” she uttered in her best villainous laugh because she hadn’t consciously realized until this moment she’d been looking for a way to reconnect with Brian. “You’ve discovered my evil plan.”
Her grandpa snorted; Peggy’s shoulders shook; and even Oscar-the-Grouch Tanner’s lips twitched.
Keith bounded over. “You’re funny, Jillie. Don’t you think so, Brian?”
“Isn’t she just?”
“Keith, come back here. I need you to help Mommy figure out how to beat Mr. Hale.”
The kid’s sneakers slapped against the hospital floor. “Shuffle harder, Mommy.”
Jill set the legal pad aside. “Maybe we should think about joining forces, Brian.”
“All right, you two. You were best friends growing up,” her grandpa muttered. “Cut the crap and stop farting around. Why don’t you make up already?”
“Mommy, Mr. Hale said fart, ” Keith whispered.