Page 32 of Worth the Wait

She's radiant. Her smile transforms her face completely, erasing the cold calculation I've come to associate with her. Her eyes crinkle at the corners with genuine happiness as she gazes up at the man who has his arm wrapped possessively around her waist.

On her left hand, barely visible but unmistakable, is an engagement ring.

The stark contrast between this joyful woman and the ice queen who stalks Blake Financial's hallways is jarring. I've never seen Christine look at anything or anyone with such unguarded affection—not even close.

I hear footsteps approaching and quickly replace the photograph, closing the drawer and moving to the other side of her desk just as Christine appears in the doorway.

"Ms. Wells," she says, her voice carrying a hint of suspicion. "I didn't hear you come in."

"I just arrived," I lie, holding up the documents. "Miguel asked me to deliver these for your review."

She takes the folder, her gaze searching my face for any sign of deception. "Thank you. Was there anything else?"

"No, that's all." I turn to leave, then pause, curiosity overriding my better judgment. "Actually, I was wondering if you ever worked at Miller & Walsh? I have a friend interviewing there next week."

Something flashes across Christine's face—pain, quickly masked by that professional blankness she wears so well. "Briefly," she says, her tone clipped. "It wasn't a good fit."

"I see." I offer a neutral smile. "Thanks anyway."

As I walk back to my office, I find myself wondering about the man in the photograph, about what happened to transform the radiant, loving woman in that image into the calculating predator who seems determined to drive a wedge between Jackson and me. What changed? Who was he? And why does she keep his photograph hidden but not discarded?

The mysteries of Christine Blackwell will have to wait, though, because when I turn the corner toward my office, I spot a familiar figure waiting outside my door.

Ellie.

My sister stands with her back to me, her chestnut hair—a shade darker than mine—falling in loose waves past her shoulders. She's dressed in casual jeans and an oversized sweater that makes her look more like a college student than the accomplished pediatric nurse she is.

"Ellie?" I call, surprise and delight mingling in my voice.

She spins around, her face lighting up. "Surprise!" she squeals, throwing her arms around me in a fierce hug that makes me instantly homesick for a place I've spent years trying to forget.

I return her embrace, breathing in the familiar scent of her coconut shampoo. "What are you doing here? I thought you weren't coming until next month."

She pulls back, grinning. "Conference got moved up. I'm here for three days of pediatric emergency training at Chicago Memorial." Her eyes sweep over me, narrowing slightly. "But more importantly, what is going on with you?"

"What do you mean?" I ask, unlocking my office door and ushering her inside. “I’m working, it’s the middle of the day, that’s what’s going on with me.”

Ellie plops into my visitor chair, studying me with the uncomfortable intensity only siblings can wield. "Not that. There's this… electricity about you. Something's different." Her eyes widen suddenly. "Oh my God, who is he?"

"There's no 'he,'" I protest, perhaps too quickly.

"Bull. Shit." She leans forward, elbows on my desk. "I haven't seen that look on your face since you know who." She gives me that big sister stare.

“What?” I try to act coy. “Oh please, you’re overreacting. But, um, speaking of Jackson, I actually saw him recently.”

She stops abruptly, realization dawning. "No way. Is Jackson in Chicago?"

My reaction—the immediate flush that spreads across my cheeks, the way my fingers automatically rise to touch the daisy pendant—gives me away before I can form a denial.

"Holy shit," Ellie breathes, eyes wide. "Jackson Hayes is here? In Chicago?"

"Keep your voice down," I hiss, glancing anxiously toward the door.

"Oh my God," she repeats. “Here as in HERE? He’s at your firm?” she half shouts, half whispers, a slow smile spreading across her face. "This is why you've been dodging my calls."

"He works here," I admit, sinking into my chair. "He started two weeks ago."

Ellie's jaw drops. "Two weeks? And you didn't tell me? We spoke three days ago!"

---