Page 84 of The Edge of Summer
She laughs. “I’ll drink to that,” she says with a smile, her tears now dry.
There she is.
“Are you alright to head back out there?” With her hand still in mine, I tug her off my desk. “I think the mayor is probably ready to mount my head on a stick after I ignored her earlier.”
This causes another laugh to escape her. “I don’t think it’s wise to make an enemy of your boss, you know. Why didn’t you just talk to me later? This could have waited.”
To this, I shake my head. “It couldn’t wait,” I insist. And I mean it. “I had to assure myself that you’re okay. I know you are, but I had to see it for myself.”
Her eyes soften on me. “I’m okay, Luke. I’ve been through worse.”
She’s been through a lot and that damn near destroys me. I’d take it all away if I could—all the reasons in this world she has to hurt. I never want to see that light in her eyes dimmed by anyone. She deserves to shine.
I squeeze her hand before letting it go. Reluctantly, but it’s for the best.
“Let’s go find Soph,” she suggests, pulling me out of my thoughts.
I nod, and then I follow her lead. I couldn’t stop following her even if I wanted to.
CHAPTER
THIRTY-ONE
DELILAH
“How’s your pizza, Soph?”I ask.
“‘S good,” she says around her current slice.
I turn to Parker. When he catches my eye, he nods. “Fine,” he mumbles.
“And how is my favourite family doing tonight?” Clara asks as she sidles up to our table at Dockside. I wasn’t in the mood to cook tonight, so when Clara reminded me about the specials at the restaurant, I took full advantage.
Sophia beams, her mouth covered in tomato sauce. “Good!”
I snatch a napkin off the table and wipe at her cheeks. She squirms, trying to pull away. “Soph, you have to stay still. Just let me?—”
“Holy shit. Isn’t that your ex boyfriend?”
I let go of Sophia and look up at Clara quizzically. She resembles an unsuspecting deer caught in someone’s headlights. Her eyes, blown wide, are pointed at the door. I follow her gaze and instantly wish that I was anywhere else but here.Mitchell Seegars looms in front of the host stand, adjusting the cuffs of his button-down as he scans the restaurant. His blonde hair is neatly tamed and his pants are expertly pressed, as if he had a dry cleaner on standby after the car and ferry rides to get here.
The Mitchell I knew, especially dressed like that, would not have been caught dead in a restaurant like Dockside. Hell, he wouldn’t have even set foot on Kip Island. His family is old money—he alone has a higher net worth than my parents ever did—and they tend to frequent places that have a much more established dress code.
For many reasons, breaking up with Mitchell was a gift. It made me realize that I wanted no part in his stuffy world.
I turn back to Clara. “How do you know what he looks like?”
Her wide-eyed expression turns sheepish. “I may have done some light social media stalking. I had to know who I was dealing with, in case something likethis—” She waves a hand, wildly gesturing in the air. “—ever happened.”
I want to laugh, but worry has firmly lodged itself in my chest. “Can I borrow your office?”
Her jaw drops. “You’re actually going totalk to him? No!”
I push back my chair and stand. “If I don’t, he isn’t going to leave. He’s here because Luke blocked his number on my phone. He’ll want answers.”
The surprise in her expression turns to concern. “You sure? Because I can go kick his ass right now.”
And that is exactly why I love my best friend.
