Page 33 of Love Over Time

“My kind of guy.” Dom patted me hard on the back. “Keep ’em coming.”

“Did you find anything?”

He shrugged and took the shot. “Maybe. The bartender who was here three days ago isn’t here today. But my friend Todd has graciously agreed to track him down for me.”

The bartender gave me a half smirk that said money talks.

“If she was here, would we be able to find out where she went? Or maybe she’s staying in the hotel?” I swallowed. I didn’t know how much Nikki had told Dom about Mom. “She’s not well. She’s, um—”

“I know. Nikki explained.” Dom looked down at his drink and took a small sip of the whiskey. “I asked around. No one matching Tessa’s description checked into the hotel. I’m sorry. Todd is our last hope.” He frowned, surveying my face. “How’s Nikki doing? She seemed put out when I talked to her. But I can never make heads or tails of what goes on in that pretty head of hers.” I glared at him, and he put his hands up. “We’re just friends, man. We have a similar view of the world.”

Up until today, I’d thought I could read Nikki like a book. But my head was spinning so hard I had no fucking clue what was going through her mind anymore…or mine. My stupid idea of taking her out for breakfast had completely backfired. I hadn’t considered Mrs. Blaine would still hold such contempt for Nikki and her sister. I’d never understood where it all came from. Nikki had been a child when it all happened. It wasn’t her fault. “I think she’s hurting. But she won’t let me in.” No idea why I was telling this to a complete stranger. What the fuck did he care?

“You break her heart, and now you wanna help?” He returned my glare.

I chuckled, an ugly laugh, really. “Is that what she told you?” I reached for my wallet, but he blocked me. “I gotta go.”

“Drinks are on me, man.” His phone buzzed, and he picked it off the counter.

“Fuck off.” I took several twenties out of my wallet and threw them on the counter. “We’re done here.”

“Okay. But you may want to take a look at this.” He held up his screen.

The image looked like a still taken from a security camera. It was blurry, but I had no doubt that was Mom by the fireplace out in the restaurant patio, the one a few yards from me. She was holding a glass of champagne…standing on her own two feet. According to the date, she’d been here three days ago, the same day my uncle had been here. They’d been here together.

I read the text.

—This the lady you’re looking for? I remember her.—

“What the fuck does this mean?” Mom couldn’t be part of this. No. I pushed the thought aside.

I riffled through the scattered memories in my brain. When I saw Mom in the garden, she had been practically paralyzed, as though whatever illness struck her when I was a kid had consumed her. How was it possible that she was healthy again? Francesca had said she was getting her medicine. Was that medicine some kind of miracle drug that could take Mom from being in a wheelchair to sipping champagne as if time hadn’t gone by? Or was it all a ruse? That would be impossible. Mom hadn’t known I was coming to the manor that day. The note she’d left behind was proof that she wasn’t well, that she was afraid. Her fear had been real. I remembered that clearly. I fell back into my barstool and downed the rest of the whiskey to wash away the tang taste in my mouth.

“I realize I’m not your lawyer and we practically just met. But I can see it in your face. You’re going through a million scenarios, all of which mark your mom guilty of something terrible. But listen, before you call the inquisition on your mother, let’s wait and find out what really is going on. Innocent until proven guilty.”

“Does he know if she walked out of here on her own?” Innocent until proven guilty. Right, but how much proof did I need? At every turn, I found myself stretching the truth to not hate Mom. “We have to find the guy that sent you that text. He has to tell us what he knows.”

Dom stood. We were the same height, same build. He eyed me as if sizing me up. I squared my shoulders.Yeah, I can take you, asshole.

“You up for a road trip?”

“You think he knows more?” I tilted my chin and pointed at his phone.

Nodding, he pushed my twenties toward the bartender. “This is yours. Put our check on Cole’s account, would ya?” The bartender grinned, pocketed his tip, and handed Dom a business card with writing on it.

“Who’s Cole?” I ignored the pang of jealousy that spread across my navel.

“He owes Nikki.” He winked at me. “Got an address here. You coming?”

“Does he now?” I clenched my jaw. The more I knew of Nikki’s world, the more I realized ten years was a long-ass time. We were completely different people now.

“It’s a long story. Short of it is, Nikki stuck it to him, and then she unstuck it. So now he feels he owes her.” He handed the valet guy a few folded bills.

“Is there anyone who doesn’t owe Nikki something?”

“This is what she does. I’ve seen her in action. Trust me—if she says she can solve this for you, she will.” He stepped onto the hotel driveway and pointed at the black SUV. “This is us.”

When I turned around, a stunning woman dressed in a white dress rushed toward Dom. She met his gaze and slowed her pace. Hers was a guilty face if I ever saw one. Christ, was I getting tired of beautiful women with a hidden agenda?

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