Page 36 of Starting Our Chance

20 Loretta

After the incidentat the police station, I told Duke to drive by the office building. We stared at the wreck for a time before he took me home, ensured I ate a good dinner, and then left. That was it.

No more kissing.

On top of everything else, I felt an overwhelming guilt that I had put an end to Duke’s advances. It wasn’t like it was indefinite. I would kiss him again—soon. And if I had my way, I’d finally do the things I had always dreamed of doing to the neighbor boy—things I’d always been too shy to act upon. I just needed time to compose myself. Weeping in his arms was not the attractive look I was going for, and I wanted him to think I was more than just some female who fell apart. Hell, he was doing so much for me.

Although my enemy was in town, I was strangely calm. During the ride home, Duke had filled me in with a few details about his security measures. What I learned was that if there was suspicious activity, he would know. Strangely, I felt safer than I ever had. I should have been packing a bag and planning to leave without a trace. Instead, I was racking my brains to think of a way out of this mess—where I was proved innocent and my ex-boss believed me. Felicity said it was possible! I might not know how, but there was hope—something I didn’t have a few days ago. And what I could say with certainty was that there were people in my court, and I stood a chance to make it out of this nightmare in one piece.

That evening when my mom got home, I acted normal and helped her with the fall preparations of the flower beds. Covered in dirt, we showered off, and I found that I had a missed call from my well-connected friend. When I called her back, Felicity talked me through a few things. She said this was a game of cat and mouse. I was the mouse, and they were playing with me. Dylan, the fire, the arrest—it was all to unsettle me. She said not to worry and that they would work out a plan. Her connections back in New York were brokering a deal that Oscolti would listen to. She also had people looking for proof of my innocence, not to mention that they were looking for the reason for this whole mess—Kyle, a.k.a. the biggest mistake of my life. He had dated me to get to the money and now he was somewhere remote, living without suspicion being heaped upon his head and spending all the money that Oscolti thought I had.

I hung up and looked around the house. There was nothing more I could do tonight. Felicity had assured me that everything would work out and to lay low. The men who were looking for me knew where I lived, but they hadn’t shown up to bother me, which added to her theory that they were merely playing with me.

I put in a film and curled up in an old afghan. I might not have a hefty sum in my bank account, but all my needs were met. And if my friends could help me, I could be free and hopefully manage to earn enough to start back on the path of wealth and opulence. With my meager sums, I would hound Nikki to teach me about investing.

And although there were still things that I craved in the city, I wanted to stay in Waynesboro Parish for a number of reasons. As I had been working with Mama outside, I had taken a good hard look at the life around these parts, and I’d decided that I was going to stay in the South. It was my home, and it had taken all this craziness to show me where I wanted to stay.

And the biggest reason had just filled the recipient box of my message app as I typed out what would hopefully start something between us tonight.

Me: I can’t stop thinking about your lips on mine.

My eyes flicked to the TV screen and then back at the clock on the wall. Just then I realized something. I jumped up and went to the calendar. Tomorrow—in just a few hours—was October fifth, and I didn’t need to see my mama’s pencil mark to know what day that was. Biting my lip, I decided on a plan. Not only would it help keep me sane, but it would hopefully be a gesture that pushed me in the right direction.

Duke: I could do something about that.

Smiling like an idiot, I realized that I was teasing Duke, but the effort would be worth it in a few hours when I delivered what I was thinking about. I grabbed the old Betty Crocker cookbook and flipped to a well-worn page. Sure, I could have pulled up a recipe on Pinterest, but why fix the wheel if it wasn’t broken? This chocolate cake was tried and true.

Me: Raincheck. But I’ll cash it in soon, promise!

The response was a sad faced emoji followed by a second message with the lipstick print and heart emoji. My hands were already covered in flour by then. Mama poked her head in at one a.m. to check on me. But when she saw what I was up to, she just shook her head and returned to bed. She knew what tomorrow—today—was.

Excitement was coursing through me as my dirty mind went to all kinds of strange places. Sure, the neighbor boy played a rather prominent role in my fantasies, but it was my actions that were spurring it onward.

I frosted the decadent concoction around three in the morning and dozed on the couch until five. Or that had been my plan because when I awoke with a start, it was after seven. I leapt up to go change, putting on a college logo sweat shirt and cut offs that worked with my cowgirl boots. By the time I was all prettied up, Mama had set out her cake traveling-case. Winking at me as she left for her shift at the hospital, Mama told me to wish Duke well.

There was one finishing touch that I needed to add. Digging through the cupboard, I found some red writing frosting. In legible letters, I wrote Happy Birthday, Duke.

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