Page 33 of Somewhere Along The Line
I nod, understanding exactly what she’s saying because it’s been my life for ten years.
“No offense, though!” she adds.
“None taken.” My chuckle acknowledges how soul-sucking finance can be.
“Things were fine enough. My life was on the path I thought it should be. I got promoted, felt like I was valuable to the team, and was making enough money to do the things I wanted to do—had I had the time to do them.”
She rolls her eyes.
“I dated a guy for a little over three years who worked in wealth management. He was the kind of man I thought I wanted. Or maybe he was who I thought Ishouldwant. I was happy enough.”
I stiffen at the words, the image of Piper being with someone else, even in the past, prompting a defensiveness it shouldn’t.
“Then one day I caught an error when I was running numbers, so I brought it up to management. Turns out it wasn’t an error at all but a purposeful fudging to hide the fact that my boss and my boyfriend were siphoning money from the accounts.”
Holy shit.This was major news in the industry about two years ago. My brain searches frantically through the details before landing on the one I want—she must’ve been seeing Henry Sierra.
That smarmy fucking asshole. My anger builds, rage growing red hot behind my sternum. Piper must notice—she grips my hand tightly before calling me back to her.
“James, it’s fine.”
I shake my head, the knuckles of my other hand clenching white against the steering wheel.
“I mean, it wasn’t fine—my entire life fell apart in the span of an afternoon, and it’s taken two years and a stint back in my childhood bedroom to put it back together—but I’m fine now. I’m here. I have a job I love, my apartment with Sami, my flea markets, painting classes, and sausage balls, and you.”
The word tumbles out of her mouth like an afterthought, like somehow I belong in the category of things that make her life meaningful. Piper clears her throat when she realizes the word slipped past her lips.
She’ll want to say, “Wow,” and to start talking her way out of it… but she doesn’t. We let it hang in the air, just like the heaviness from before, and we sit with it. Or, at least, I sit with it, this realization that we’re starting to mean something to each other.
Is Piper thinking the same thing?
The thought buries itself in my brain, and I loosen my grip on the wheel, bringing my right hand over my left as I ease into a turn. A few deep breaths, either to offload my anger at Sierra or calm my nerves about Piper (or both) help me think clearly again.
We have twenty-five minutes until we’re back at Piper’s house. I want to use this time wisely. I don’t know if I’ll see her again outside of our commute, and I don’t want her lasting memory of us to be what just happened—her sharing her dating history, letting it slip that she might like me, and me unable to form a response.
How has the morning gone by so quickly?
“So, Pipes,” she glares at me for calling her that but can’t hide the smile creeping up her cheeks, “I never asked you about giving your statement on Monday. Obviously you did great, but how did you feel about it?”
She gives me a look that says whatever I’m envisioning is not quite right.
“Glad it’s done,” she replies. “I’m not sure anything I said will be helpful for the case. The details from the morning, at least after the bomb went off, are incredibly fuzzy for me. You may recall that I curled up into a catatonic ball for the remainder of the ride.” Piper pulls her lips together, rubbing them back and forth as she thinks.
“Hmm, I don’t remember it like that,” I explain, willing my eyes to leave her lips and meet her gaze for a brief second. “My memory is of you being a very brave, concerned, and cozy ball.”
I reach back over to rest my hand on her thigh, deciding I should keep it there because it doesn’t want to be anywhere else.
“Ahh yes, and that’s the account you gave the officer? That you didn’t notice anything either because you were busy wrapping me up so I didn’t hyperventilate?”
My head rocks from side to side, considering. “I told the officer we were huddled together, but I left out the part about keeping you cozy. Figured that wasn’t totally relevant for their purposes.”
She chuckles and I grin, high off the ability to make her laugh.
“The officer did circle back on the possibility of the case going to trial,” I add, “and that I could be called to testify. Did they talk to you about that?”
The color drains from Piper’s face immediately and it’s obvious the answer is no, the officer did not speak to her about that.
“P, hey, look at me.” She is slow to meet my gaze but comes around eventually, the white of her eyes more pronounced than usual. “A trial might not happen, and even if it does, I know you’ll be fine. It’s just another forum for telling the truth about what happened. That’s all.”
