Page 10 of On the Line

“Lauren,” Jackson says, and I brace myself for the truth bomb she sounds ready to drop. “You can’t fill from an empty well, and if the last couple years have been as draining as they sound, you’re empty. Please lean on us. Let us feel your pain with you and help you through it.”

Her words are so similar to Paige’s earlier concerns about me taking care of everyone but myself that I wonder if they’ve already all talked about this without me. And I also wonder if maybe they’re right?

“All right,” Paige says, and I can tell by the strained sound of her voice how choked up she is. “It’s official. You have the best friends in the world. And also, I’m staying.”

I can feel my eyes bulge. “What do you mean, you’re staying?”

“I’m going to change my flight and stay for another week or so. Morgan’s practically been living here for the last two weeks. Iwantto be here,” she says when I start to shake my head no, “to help out too.”

My first inclination, of course, is that I don’t want to inconvenience her. But I do want my sister around. “You really don’t mind?”

“Mind spending more time with my sister and nieces? Yeah, that’s a real hardship,” she says, brushing my concerns away with a sweep of her hand through the air.

My friends all offer to take turns coming out here and staying with me if I need them to, and for the first time since they all moved away, I feel like I truly have people in my corner. Maybe I’ll get through this okay after all.

CHAPTER5

JAMESON

The look of shock on Lauren’s face as she cracks open the heavy wooden front door would be priceless, but I’m too focused on her bloodshot eyes and her wild red hair pulled back into a messy bun to enjoy her reaction.

“What are you doing here at”—she glances at her watch, which is big and looks exactly like something Josh would have bought for her—“seven thirty in the morning?”

I hand her the caramel latte in a take-out cup and hope it’s still her favorite. A lot can change in four years. When her hands clasp around it, I reach beyond her to push open the door, stepping into her space as she backs up with a sigh.

“Thanks.” Her voice is a perfect combination of grateful and annoyed. “Come on in, I guess.”

“Are you doing okay?” I ask as I shut the door behind me.

She doesn’t take her eyes off me as she takes a drink of her latte, then lowers it and lets out a deep sigh of pleasure, looks me up and down, and says, “Yeah, I’m just fantastic. So, what are you doing in my house, exactly?”

“I’m sorry for coming by so early. But I’m only in town for the morning, and I wanted to make sure you have a copy of the will and trust and see if you have any questions.”

Her eyebrows dip in confusion. “I haven’t slept more than a few hours a night since Josh—” She forces down a deep gulp that has me focusing on the smooth, creamy skin along her neck. “—died. So maybe I’m not processing what you’re saying. What trust?”

I glance around, taking in the modern mountain house that looks like it could have been featured on some sort of design show. It’s cold steel and warm wood. It’s big and ostentatious. Just like Josh. Not at all like Lauren.

“The one Josh set up, along with the will, to protect all your assets in case anything should happen to either of you.”

Confusion flickers in those deep blue eyes. I don’t know what I expected after more than four years of no communication, but it wasn’t this.

“Oh.” She pauses. “Why are you ... I mean, what’s your role in all of this?”

“Josh asked me to be the executor. Why do you sound like you don’t know what I’m talking about?”

“Because this is the first I’m hearing of it.” She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath, then looks up and me. “All right, let’s sit down and you can explain this to me.” She turns and walks into the kitchen, and I follow her.

She rounds the huge island and pulls out a barstool, gesturing for me to take a seat. Then she walks past it and pulls one out for herself, leaving a stool between us. I set my bag on the seat she left as a barrier and glance over at her. She’s wearing sage-green joggers and a matching top. She looks like she just rolled out of bed, but she’s beautiful nonetheless. I hate myself a little for noticing—then again, I’ve nevernotnoticed.

I watch as she touches her coffee cup to her lips, tilts her head back, and swallows. She catches me watching her as she lowers the cup to the counter, and her eyebrows scrunch up again in confusion or suspicion—it’s impossible to tell which.

“Let’s rewind for a second,” she says, crossing her arms over her abdomen. But then her eyes fill with tears and she looks away.

I reach out and rest my hand on her shoulder, surprised and concerned when I discover how bony it is. “Hey.” I wait for her to return my gaze, but she doesn’t look at me.

Her breathing is deep and labored when she finally glances up and tells me, “I didn’t know Josh was in Sun Valley. That’s not where he was supposed to be. I also didn’t know he had a trust.” Her voice—normally light and happy—shakes with emotion, and I can tell how much it pains her to have to admit this, especially to me. “These both feel like things a husband should tell his wife.”

I pull my hand back, and it takes everything I have not to react with my true feelings about Josh. There’s no way I’m going to trash-talk the man to his widow, but I have no idea how Ishouldrespond to this revelation, so I focus on the business side of things instead. “Are you sure he never told you about the trust?”

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