Page 57 of To Believe In You
Shane had kissed her on their first date, and they hadn’t known each other long beforehand. She’d been the one to break off the moment when he’d gotten too intense. Her connection with Matt had differed entirely—he’d waited for her to start, and he’d been the one to break it off. But not in cold disinterest. Quite the opposite. She’d felt safe. Valued.
In comparison, perhaps the difference in those first kisses meant Shane had been carelessly gambling with her affections this whole time.
Her phone illuminated and buzzed in her hands. Matt had texted.Any sign of him?
No, but I haven’t checked out of the hotel yet.
She had, however, seen signs of how the press was treating the fight. The photos of Matt leaving the reception, shirt stained crimson, landed in several online slideshows about the wedding. The captions included just enough detail to paint Matt badly.
What would an Awestruck event be without former bass guitarist Matt Visser brawling with another guest?
Rocker Matt Visser is up to his old tricks.
The Vaughns may be regretting extending an olive branch to former bandmate Matt Visser, captured here after a fist fight.
What kind of problems would the implications that he’d acted alone and without sufficient reason cause him?
Another incoming text lit up her phone.Look into a restraining order. And let me know the second you see him if he shows up again.
She’d planned to question her dad—that chore had been her whole reason for pausing before checking out and heading for home—but legal action against Shane? She ran an internet search on restraining orders. The articles seemed in agreement; a court wouldn’t instate one for her because Shane hadn’t made any threats or left any marks—on her, anyway.
She tapped back into her text thread with Matt.I doubt it’ll come to that, but if he shows up, you’ll be my second call. Police first.
I guess that’ll have to be good enough. Stay safe.
She read and reread the message, expecting him to send more at any moment, but the phone went dark. No allusions to their kiss. No questions about when he’d see her next.
Hm.
What had she hoped he’d say? When did she want to see him next? She’d kissed him first, and she’d enjoyed the time they’d spent together, but would it last? Was she really right to trust Matt so much?
She wouldn’t be able to sort out her tangle of emotions in the next couple of minutes, but she could follow through on calling her dad.
With a prayer for help, for truth to win out, she dialed his cell.
And got voicemail.
“Hi, Dad. Give me a call back when you have some time to talk.”
16
On Monday, an envelope stuck from beneath Lina’s laptop at Key of Hope. She was alone in here, wasn’t she? She checked over her shoulder, but she’d locked the door she’d entered through. The windows and front entrance didn’t appear to have been disturbed. Dim and still, the practice rooms sheltered no intruders. The only discernible movement in the whole place was steam curling from the slow cooker she’d set up on the office area table.
After arriving back in Lakeshore yesterday, she’d swung by the grocery store for supplies, then baked cookies, made coleslaw, and cooked a batch of pulled pork. One less thing for the staff to worry about, if their weekend had been as frazzling as hers.
She took a seat and cast another look around. There had been no lessons this weekend. Who had been in here to drop off this envelope? The caution and worry linked straight back to Shane’s surprise appearance at the wedding. If he’d also found a way into Key of Hope, she might never feel safe again.
She slipped her finger under the flap, tore open the envelope, and read the short, typed letter inside.
To whom it may concern:
I’m resigning my position as bass guitar instructor for Key of Hope, effective 10:35 PM last Saturday. Though I’m sorry to leave, I couldn’t pass up a new opportunity.
Good luck breaking the news to Chris.
The signature was sloppy to the point of illegibility.
She laughed, once.
