Page 65 of Pick Me
“If you’re taking requests, Gage, do you think you could help me with my website for the diner before you leave?” Jack asked.
Gage nodded. “Absolutely. I can work it around my projects for Webb. I could probably even get to it this week, if—”
Sally Ann shook herself off the floor and barked at the back door, cutting Gage off midsentence. A moment later, someone knocked.
“C’mon in!” Uncle Drew called.
A man with neatly brushed dark hair, badly tailored khaki pants, and eyes so blue I could tell the color at a distance, stepped in on the mat. “Evening, everyone. I’m sorry to interrupt your supper—”
“Hey, Mr. Williams!” Aiden yelled excitedly, getting up on his knees in his seat. “Did you come for dinner?”
I looked down the table, and Gage and I exchanged a look. Sothiswas the saintly Mr. Williams?
I knew Webb hadn’t forgiven him for his role in allowing Amanda to pick Aiden up from school, and I didn’t blame him for being angry. But I also knew Aiden thought this guy hung the moon, and the way he smiled at Aiden made it clear the feeling was mutual.
“I’m afraid not, Aiden.” He shifted his weight. “I have plans. But first I—” He swallowed nervously.
“Come sit, Luke,” Uncle Drew called kindly. “We’ve got plenty.”
“He said he has plans.” Webb’s voice was flat. Hard. Unlike him. “Besides, we barely had room for everyone as it is, remember?”
“Hey.” I leaned behind Aiden to smack Webb’s shoulder as a reminder not to be rude.
“I needed to speak to you privately, Mr. Sunday,” Luke said to Webb in a rush. “If I could have just a moment of your time.”
Webb’s jaw ticked. “I’m eating dinner with my family. If you’d like to meet with me, call and schedule an appointment, like the one Roberta Oliver said I needed to schedule if I wanted to speak to anyone at the school.”
“Thomas. Webb. Sunday,” Drew admonished in a low, insistent voice.
“Middle name,” Aiden whispered nervously before glancing nervously at me.
Webb leaned back in his seat. “Whatever you have to say, Mr. Williams, just say it.”
Luke darted a glance at Aiden and hesitated.
“Hey, Aiden, why don’t we go check your project and see if the paint’s dry. Maybe Mr. Williams can stop by the barn to see it on his way out,” Emma suggested, showing better sense than Webb had shown since Luke Williams walked in.
“Will you, Mr. Williams?” Aiden asked.
“Of course I will.”
Luke’s quiet words only seemed to make Webb surlier. The second Aiden and Em shut the back door, Webb said, “Spit it out, then.”
Luke clenched and unclenched his fingers into fists. “Right. So. Your wife contacted the—”
“Ex-wife.”
“Of course. Yes.” He squeezed his eyes shut for a second. “Ex-wife. The way your custody agreement is structured—”
“Is none of your business.”
“Let the man speak, Webb,” Marco interrupted impatiently.
“I know you’re angry with me,” Luke said. “I don’t blame you. I want you to know that I truly didn’t understand your custody situation at the time Aiden went missing. As you know, I haven’t lived in town long. Roberta—Ms. Oliver—said there was no reason not to let him go with her, and I assumed she would know since she’s the principal. Clearly, she didn’t know—or chose to ignore what she knew—and I neglected to verify. I take responsibility for that, and it willnothappen again on my watch.” He cleared his throat. “Which is why I thought you should know that your wife—”
“Ex-wife.”
“Yes, sorry.” Luke sounded impatient now, too. “Amanda Sunday has requested to be copied on all school communications regarding your son, which is allowed under the terms of your current custody agreement.”
