Page 21 of Memories By the Shore
I swallow the growing cotton ball in my throat. “I’m here to see Jas—the mayor.”
“Is he expecting you?”
I shake my head, my eyes darting down the long hallway to my left.
“I’m sorry, but the mayor only sees people who have scheduled meetings with him,” she dismisses me and returns to her work.
I raise my tippy toes, leaning over her desk until I’m only a few inches from her face. “He’ll want to see me.”
Shocked by my forward gestures, her eyebrows snap together. She looks like she will challenge me but doesn’t, so she lifts from her chair. “Can I tell him your name?”
“Tell him Mrs. Collins is here to see him.”
“Um, okay, Miss.” She pauses, confusion sweeping across her face. “One moment.”
This is it.
Chapter Seven
Now
Jasper
“Of course, Gerald. I’m sure it’s going to be a fantastic event.” I lean back in my chair, tucking the phone into the crook of my neck. “Let me know if anyone at the chamber needs help from our office.”
“You’re the best, Jasper. Thanks,” he says. Just then, Gail scampers through the French doors of my office. Her face is flushed.
“We’ll talk soon. Take care.” I abruptly end the call, sensing Gail’s flustered demeanor. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
“There’s someone here to see you.” She pauses to take a breath. “Harper, the new receptionist, said that the woman told her.” She pauses again with her arms bent while she twiddles her thumbs. “Her name is Mrs. Collins.
My heart stops. “I’m sorry, what?”
Gail cranes her neck, looking over her shoulder and down the hall. “She said her name isMrs. Collins.”
I blink a few times, flipping through the possibilities of who this could be because there’s no way it’s Avery—not after eightyears.I bet it’s someone messing with me.
“Okay, well, send her in then.”
Gail nods nervously. “If you need anything, Sheriff Wyatt is still in a meeting in the conference room.”
I chuckle. “No one’s going to hurt me. It’s probably just a joke.”
“I don’t know, Jasper. I was watching Dateline last night—”
Raising my palm to the air, I silence another one of her many true crime recaps. “I’ll be fine.”
“Alright.” She huffs, then swiftly exits my office.
I focus back to the never-ending tasks of things to complete before the annual Coconut Grove Days event this weekend, when I hear shuffling on the floor and a light creak of my office doors closing.
“I need a divorce.”
I feel my eyes widen, straining the top lids. Glaring at the unopened email at the top of my list, frozen in place and scared to look up.
A voice that I haven’t heard in years but one I will never forget.Am I hearing things?My throat runs dry—my heart pounds in my chest. I lift from my chair without looking up. If it is her and she thinks she can just come here without ahelloorhow are youthen she has another thing coming.
“I need a divorce,” the voice repeats, firmer this time.
