Page 77 of The Guest Cottage

The long silence was telling.

“Sandra,” Marlow repeated. “I hope we can be honest with each other.”

“We’re worried about you! You’re having a midlife crisis or something. We’ve tried to be patient, but it’s dangerous. For you, and for this family.”

Hearing the truth was a relief. At least the nighttime visitor wasn’t some shady character out to rob or worse. Just someone sent by her intrusive in-laws, overstepping as usual. “I’d like you to stop and think howyou’dfeel with a stranger peeking inyourwindows.”

“I’m sure you’re exaggerating,” Sandra scoffed. “There was no peeking involved. He was just trying to determine exactly where you’re staying, and then hopefully we can figure out why. If you need a raise, you know we’d be happy to accommodate you. It’s important to support family, after all.”

Marlow gritted her teeth. “I don’t need you to support me. I don’t need a raise.”

“Or,” Sandra continued, undeterred, “if you wanted a different position or to be placed in another location, you know we have opportunities all over the country and in other countries, too, although we’d prefer to keep you close so we can visit.”

It was incredible that no matter what Marlow said, Sandra didn’thearher. She was determined to pursue her own course and blindly moved forward toward a future of her own design.

That was how it had always been, how Marlow had allowed it to be. But no more. Here in this small town, everyone listened to her, sometimes more than she’d like. She shook her head, laughing at her own inconsistency.

Cort always heard her. And Pixie, bless her heart, hung on Marlow’s every word. She enjoyed it, and more than that, she deserved it.

Done with the call, Marlow said, “I’m sorry, Sandra. I’ve resigned from Heddings’ Holdings and that won’t change. Ever. What I want now is a much simpler life, without the busy social calendar and business obligations.” Even knowing she shouldn’t share any more, Marlow attempted to convince Sandra with a few facts. “I’ll be starting my own business.”

Silence again.

“I want a small boutique with nice but affordable women’s clothes and accessories. Something I can manage with just a few employees, selling fashions that will appeal to the everyday person. Not for the money, understand. My financial situation is healthy, and I don’t need help in that regard. This is something I’ve always wanted.”

“Meaning you didn’t enjoy working with us?”

“Of course, I did! And I hope you and Aston were satisfied with my performance.” They’d better be. She’d been an overachiever for them, and for Dylan.

And honestly, for herself, too. She’d never been good at half measures.

“I’ll always appreciate you both. You gave me great opportunities, and in return, I tried to give you one hundred percent. I learned so much from my time with Heddings’ Holdings. Invaluable lessons that I often apply to everyday life.” Like strength, independence, and the ability to confront adversity.

Sandra suddenly changed the subject. “We haven’t heard any more from Pixie Nolan, thankfully. I told Aston that her name alone discredited her. What legitimate person is named Pixie? It’s absurd.”

The scorn in her tone made Marlow bristle. “Why do you hate her so much?”

“Why do you not?” Sandra all but erupted in anger. “That little gold digger tried to steal your husband! She tried to corrupt Dylan. And then she had the nerve to try to wheedle her way back in with us?Never.”

For as long as Marlow could remember, Dylan’s parents had made excuses for every wrong move he made. It was always someone else’s fault, never their baby’s. It was Marlow’s own anger that drove her to say, “Did you realize that Pixie was only nineteen?Nineteen, Sandra. If you ask me, Dylan preyed on her.”

“How dare you?” she whispered.

“One day, I hope you’ll realize that Dylan wasn’t the saint you paint him to be but a flesh and bone man who created many of his own problems.”

The call disconnected. Marlow waited, stunned, not only that Sandra would end the call like that, but also that she would lash out in such a way. Sandra hadn’t changed. She had always put a halo on Dylan, no matter what.

It was Marlow who had changed.

But in her anger, she had just betrayed Pixie.

Sandra was a savvy woman. A woman didn’t become rich and powerful by being naïve. The fact that Marlow had just defended Pixie was bound to stay in Sandra’s mind. She’d chew it over until it made sense to her.

Eventually, she’d wonder if Marlow and Pixie had been in touch.

Well, damn.

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