Page 19 of The Rules We Broke
I knew exactly why she kept her money there. It wasn’t convenience. It was symbolism—a reminder to the Jacksons of the power she held.
But I wanted no part of that particular pageant.
Aunt Lu met my gaze, sharp and unyielding.
“Don’t look at me like that, Ella Lu. They’re expecting you there this afternoon. I want this settledtoday.”
“Can’t they just email me the paperwork?” I asked, knowing I was grasping.
“Not in this case,” Mr. Howard replied.
I knew Aunt Lu wouldn’t consent to any procedures until this was handled. And that meant one thing—going tothatbank.
The last place in Kaysville I wanted to walk into.
Mr. Howard glanced at his watch. “I’ve got a four-p.m. appointment with Mrs. Gayle Wells. If we leave now, we’ll be right on time.”
I froze. Palms sweaty. Heart pounding.
Then Aunt Lu gave methe look. The one that meant this was non-negotiable.
I shook my head in quiet surrender. I didn’t like this one bit.
I leaned down and kissed her cheek, the gesture more for me than for her. She smiled, all honey and steel.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, sugar,” she called, her voice laced with sweetness.
The entire drive over, I kept praying Mr. Jackson wouldn’t be there.
I didn’t know much about Kaysville these days, but I knew he was still alive—because if he’d passed, Aunt Lu would’ve thrown a party and sent out engraved invitations.
Not only was I worried about who I would see, but I wasn’t ready to announce I was in town. Walking into that bank would do just that.
I pulled into the parking lot and checked my hair and makeup. Added a touch more lipstick. Took a deep breath. Then met Mr. Howard in the lobby.
Instantly, I felt the shift. All eyes on me.
I was an Eaton in Jackson territory. It was all an uncomfortable reminder of why I left. And why I never meant to come back.
With my head held high—and my nerves jangling beneath it—I walked to the receptionist desk alongside Mr. Howard.
“We have an appointment with Mrs. Wells,” he announced with practiced formality.
The young receptionist barely glanced at us before she asked us to have a seat.
I could still feel eyes on me—soft as whispers, sharp as judgment.
I knew they weren’t staring because they recognized my face from the back of my books. They were staring because I was Ella Lu Eaton. And years ago, I’d broken the granddaddy of the rules.
It made my skin crawl.
A few minutes later, the receptionist returned. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Wells has left for the day—but Mr. Jackson is expecting you.”
My heart jumped. How could this be? I was sure Mr. Jackson didn’t want to see me as much as I didn’t want to see him.
This was my worst nightmare.
But I needed this done—today. Aunt Lu wouldn’t schedule her procedure otherwise. However, the thought of walking into the office of the man who broke her heart . . . the same man who made Brady break mine?
