It's Never too Late

“Susan did make it to the pros. She’s doing quite well. Has your sister applied for tennis scholarships?”

“She didn’t have to apply. They came to her. My father met with the colleges, chose the one he thought would be best, but when my sister got there a couple of weeks ago, the scholarship offer was only good for tuition and books, not living expenses. And the tennis coach won’t let her work her first year while she acclimates to the team, to competition and studies. My parents can’t afford to keep her there and it’s too late to apply anywhere else.”

And ten years ago Randi had mysteriously come up with funds for a late-in-the-semester scholarship offer for a promising basketball player.

“I heard what you did for Susan and so I thought, maybe, on a long shot...”

Randi shook her head. “I called in some favors on that one,” she said, and Addy’s stomach sank. “My brother is the president of the university and I’ve already pissed him off as many times as I can afford and still keep my job,” she continued with a self-deprecating grin. “But let me see what I can do.”

“I’d really appreciate it.” Addy pulled a piece of paper from her satchel and handed it to Randi. “My name and phone number are on there.”

Calling in favors wasn’t necessarily wrong—or even inappropriate. But granting special funding if others who were similarly situated had been turned down would definitely be cause for a lawsuit.

“What’s your sister’s name?” Randi asked as Addy was about to leave. “You said she’s played in tournaments, maybe I can find some video on her....”

Addy was prepared. She gave out her client’s name, having already received permission from the girl’s family to do so, telling them only that she was working on another case, and added to Randi, “We have different fathers,” to explain the different last names.

“Can we please keep this between us for now? I don’t want to get her hopes up. Or get my folks involved until I know for sure that there’s a chance we can work something out.”

There was only so much she could ask her former clients to do.

“Sure.” Randi held out her hand. “Thanks for stopping in. Your little sister’s a lucky girl.”

Addy took the other woman’s hand and prayed that Randi didn’t do anything that could get either her or Will in trouble.

And then she prayed that God didn’t strike her dead for the lie she was living.

Whoever had coined the phrase about “one lie leading to another” had been completely, one hundred percent correct.

It felt like hers were leading her straight to hell.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

SITTING OUTSIDE ON the patio with a beer late Monday night, Mark sent Ella one of his nightly texts, wondering how long he was going to keep it up. She wasn’t answering. At some point, that let him off the hook, didn’t it?

He’d given his word that he’d be true to her. That he wouldn’t bail.

He was not his old man.

Addy’s light was on. After midnight. It had been three days since he’d seen her, but it seemed like three weeks.

Hell, he hadn’t even known her for three weeks.

But every night, when he climbed between the sheets alone, he thought of her sleeping right next door.

And he liked having her there.

What was the harm in that?

They were adults. Fully capable of being friends without taking things too far.

Crushing his empty beer can, he opened a second.

He wasn’t going to knock on her door. It was past midnight.

He’d seen his schedule that evening. After working eight days in a row he was finally going to have a day off Wednesday.

Her light was on. And the window was open. She was moving around in there.