35

Jonas

I sat across the table from one of our biggest clients, the CEO of SeatonMade, a factory located in Seaton that employed nearly fifty people. She was an older woman with a sharp nose and wrinkles around her lips like she used to smoke.

Mr. Rusk had put me on their account, and the pressure of it was palpable on my shoulders. Or maybe that was just my bad night’s sleep. “And these are the Q2 preliminary financial reports?” I asked, flipping through pages in a manila folder.

She nodded. “It should all be there, but if we’re missing something, I can call our HR manager to fax them over.”

Honestly, it all could have been faxed over, or better yet, emailed, but sometimes people liked doing things the old-fashioned way. And this was part of the job, taking plenty of meetings that could have just been emails.

My phone vibrated in my pocket, and I instantly grabbed for it, hoping to God it would be Mara. “Sorry,” I said, glancing at the screen.

The store owner nodded and said, “Everything okay?”

At the sight of Mara’s name, I wasn’t so sure. I hoped she wasn’t calling me to yell at me for the breakfast or telling me to give up altogether, because I wasn’t sure how I would handle it. “I need to take this. Family emergency.”

The woman nodded, and I stepped out of my office, swiping the screen to answer. “Mara?” I wanted to hear her voice so badly.

“Jonas?” She sounded completely terrified, and my gut dropped.

“What’s going on?” I asked. “Are you okay? Did the security guys try something?” I was already striding toward the parking lot, ready to drive as fast as my car would take me to her house.

“There’s a letter from my dad here.”

I sped up. “What does it say?”

“I haven’t opened it.” She let out a hoarse chuckle, trying to be brave. “Do you think there’s anthrax in it?”

“I don’t know,” I answered, getting into my car. “He probably doesn’t have access to anthrax.”

“Unless he could find it at the bottom of a bottle of whiskey, you’re probably right.”

“Are you alone?” I asked, just to keep her talking. I needed more information. Needed to keep hersafefrom that man who had instilled such fear in her, even in a room full of people. “There’s not a chance he could be there?” I whipped out of the parking lot, taking the roads toward her house as fast as I could. I’d only been there a couple times before, but I knew the way from that first night I picked her up. The first night we kissed.

“I don’t see another vehicle around that I don’t recognize, and the security tech is here.” Her voice shook despite the surety in her words.

“Video call me,” I ordered.

“Jonas, I—”

“Now,” I said. I needed to see her, make sure that she was okay, probably even more than she needed to see me.

A new tone came through my phone, and I glanced down long enough to click the answer button and see her face. My chest instantly relaxed, releasing a breath. Fuck was she beautiful. “You’re a sight for sore eyes.”

She smiled softly, her lips trembling. “That’s one of my favorite phrases.”

“Yeah?” I paused at a stop sign to put my phone in the holder my mom had gotten me from one of those ads on TV. This way I could see Mara and the road better. I wouldn’t do her any good if I wrecked on the way there.

“Yeah,” she said. “It’s like seeing the person you care for literally soothes you, heals you.”

She was getting lost again, in that world of make believe she had to escape into so often as a child, and I wanted to help her get to the place where she felt comfortable. Where she felt safe. “What are your other favorite phrases to write?”

“I know it’s lame, but I love it when a guy and a girl hold hands for the first time and they feel like their hands were made for each other.”

“That’s not lame.”

She smiled again. “It’s such a small moment, but I think it’s when they first realize that this could go somewhere. It takes a special person to make you feel butterflies just by touching their hand.”