She’d done the right thing for Molly.
It didn’t matter that her heart was broken in the process.
Chapter Twenty-five
It was just after two a.m. on Tuesday night and Molly sat alone at her kitchen table. Her window was open and she listened to the sounds outside.
Crickets, the soft rustle of the leaves, the quiet hum of serenity.
If she didn’t know better, the everyday sounds would have made her think all was well, offer her the comfort of their normalcy. But everything was, in fact, not okay.
It was the opposite of okay.
She felt more alone than she had in her entire life.
When she couldn’t sleep, she’d played the vacation video, reaching desperately for any comfort she could find in Cassie’s vibrant smile, her teasing laugh. But it didn’t reaffirm her the way it normally did. Something was off.
And as she sat in her darkened kitchen, she didn’t know where to turn for comfort. She should call Eden. Her father. But it wasn’t what she needed. The one person who could help, who could talk her through this, make her feel better with just the sound of her voice wasn’t an option anymore.
She stared at the cell phone in her hand and willed herself to set it back down.
She’d refused to let herself think about Jordan much, because when she did, she came apart altogether. So, she once again pushed her aggressively from her thoughts. It was a wound she had to keep her fingers off of, at least for now.
There was too much on her plate.
But it didn’t mean she wasn’t keenly aware of the loss. Almost like a recently discovered piece of herself was now missing.
She purposefully left herself off the schedule the next morning, taking the time off for her meeting in Chicago with Grant. At least she had the advance check and the planning session to look forward to, to distract her.
She followed the GPS to the address on Grant’s business card and solemnly rode the elevator to the eleventh floor. She’d made a point to dress the part and traded her casual bakeshop attire for a skirt and blouse. Her hair was pulled up for effect. She felt businessy and a tinge excited for the meeting, despite the fact that the rest of her life lay in tatters.
When she reached the appointed suite, she paused and double-checked the number on the plaque outside with the business card in her hand. The door stood ajar. The floor of the office was covered in file boxes, and a man in a suit stood over a desk packing another. Two other men were similarly occupied.
“Excuse me. I’m so sorry to bother you.” She took a tentative step into the office and held up the business card. “I’m looking for Grant Tranton, but I think I might be in the wrong place.”
The man looked up but only briefly. “I’m sorry, ma’am. He’s not here.”
A pause.
“But this is his office?”
“Unfortunately so.”
“Okay. Do you, by chance, know where I could find him? I have an eleven o’clock appointment.”
He sighed and straightened. “I wish I did. The contents of this office have been seized as evidence. Mr. Tranton is wanted on several charges. We’d be interested in any information you may have about his whereabouts.” The man covered the distance between them and handed Molly his card.
She stared numbly at the letters. Federal Bureau of Investigation. “He’s wanted on charges?”
“Quite a list of them. Money laundering, fraud, identity theft among others. And that’s only the most recent string. He’s made a career of it. I’d like to get a statement from you about your interaction.”
She stood there, shell shocked as the information settled. On impulse, she dialed Grant’s number, but the singsong notification that informed her his phone number was no longer in service was the tipping point. The grim understanding caused most of the color to fade from the room.
She just kept hearing the words this can’t be happening repeated on some endless loop in her head. It made her dizzy. She prayed to God it was all just a misunderstanding, but she was smart enough to know it probably wasn’t.
The ramifications of it all occurred to her one at a time, tumbling down on her like the contents of a messy closet. Grant Tranton was a criminal. He was probably on the run. There would be no partnership. No advance check. And, God, no bakeshop.
It was over.
She grasped the doorjamb for support, feeling lightheaded and so very, very stupid. “Thank you for your help.”
“Ma’am, are you all right?”
She met his gaze. “No. I don’t think so.”
*
Jordan checked her watch. She was eight minutes late, which was pretty good for her. The restaurant George had picked for dinner was one she’d never been to before, but had all the foodies in the area raving. She didn’t have much of an appetite these days, but she’d try to eat something to be polite.
She’d been back in Chicago for a couple of weeks now and hadn’t spent much time with George outside of work. But then again, she hadn’t spent time with anyone outside of work.
She pushed her sunglasses onto her head and squinted as her eyes adjusted to the dim interior of the restaurant. As she headed to the hostess stand, she was quickly intercepted.
“There you are, beautiful person.” George pulled her in and kissed her cheek loudly. “We weren’t expecting you for another seven minutes.”
“Because I’m generally—”
“Running fifteen minutes behind schedule, yes. It’s my job as your friend to be acutely aware of your shortcomings and love you despite them. And voila, I do. Are you ready to meet the love of my life?”
She smiled at George because his eyes were dancing with excitement and it was adorable. “I am. You’ve been talking this guy up for weeks. I have to see if he measures up. You know, in my job capacity as your friend. See how that works both ways?”
“You’re very astute. Right this way. Our table, and the very handsome Robert, await our presence. Be nice, whatever you do.”
She batted her eyelashes. “I’m always nice.” Plastering a smile on her face, she followed George to their table. Robert’s back was to them as they approached, but when he saw George, he stood politely and turned.
She froze. Absolutely speechless, that’s how she felt.
He, on the other, looked nervous. “Hey, Jordy. Good to see ya.”
“Little Bobby.” She turned to George in shock. “You’re dating Little Bobby? Robert is Bobby?” Worlds were colliding. She swiveled back to Bobby. “You’re seeing George? I didn’t know you were—Wait. We have to rewind. That makes you gay. You’re gay ?”
Bobby offered a small smile and shrugged. “No one knew except me. And, well, George. He seems to have a way of just knowing things.” He exchanged a private look with George who motioned for them all to sit.
“So all of this time you two have been seeing each other? Since your stay in Applewood?” Jordan looked from one of her friends to the other. Her mind was still scrambling to catch up.
George offered her an apologetic look. “Guilty. But in all fairness, we were taking things slow.”
“At my request,” Bobby supplied. “I’ve known who I am for some time now, but I never acted on it in any sort of official capacity like this. And until I met George, I thought I never would. I was planning on bachelorhood for life. This is so much better.”
Jordan shook her head. “I don’t know what to say. I’m floored.” Except as she saw the happiness between them, the genuine warmth of their stares, she found the words. “I love both of you dearly, and once the shock subsides, will be so very happy you’ve found each other. I’m mystified, but in a really good way. To new beginnings.” She raised her glass to the two wonderful men in front of her, who clinked their glasses and beamed back at her.