Bring Down the Stars - Page 73

“Nobody’s perfect, but the combination of his good humor and sensitivity makes me feel we have a chance at being happy.”

If the two of us were one person, we’d make her happy. I can help Connor make her happy.

“Happy is the most important thing,” I said quietly.

She curled her fingers and drew her hand back into her lap. “But not at your expense. It’s important to me that you’re okay with us. With me being over at your place. In your life.”

At my expense, I thought. Yes, at my expense. I’m going to pay. Every day they’re together, I’m going to pay. Because their happiness is worth the price.

“I’m okay with it,” I said.

Her smile was radiant. “I’m so glad. I—” Her ringing phone—Chris Isaac’s “Wicked Game”—cut her off and she rummaged in her bag. “Sorry. That’s my brother.” She put the phone to her ear. “Hey, Trav. What’s up?”

Within three seconds, her smile vanished and her mouth slowly dropped open. Her eyes widened, fear and worry blooming in them like a dark shadow.

“Oh my God,” she said.

I half-rose out of my seat. “What is it?”

Her eyes darted to me helplessly as she listened. “My dad…he had a heart attack. They’re rushing him to surgery.” She listened a moment. “Okay.” Nodded vigorously. “Right. Okay, I will. I’ll call you back when I get a flight. It’ll be okay, Trav. I’m coming. Okay. Bye.”

Her hand shook as she ended the call and stared at the display, thumb hovering over the buttons. “Holy shit,” she murmured. “This is so bad. So bad…”

“What can I do?”

“I need…a flight. I have to go. Tonight. Oh God…” The phone slipped from her hand. I caught it before it fell in her coffee cup.

“Easy, easy,” I said, opening the Google App. “We’ll get you home. What airport do you fly into? Lincoln?”

“Omaha,” she said, her hands digging in her hair.

“Got it.” I punched in the info on her phone.

“Travis said he’d had chest pains for days. but he wouldn’t go to the doctor. Didn’t want to miss a day’s work for the money it might lose him.”

I stopped scrolling through flights to meet her eyes. I gave her a quick, tight nod to tell her I got it. I understood how fear of missed work and less money could take over your life. “It’s gonna be okay,” I said.

“I have to get to him, Weston. I have to see him.”

“I know. We’ll get you there, I promise,” I said. “Here. Direct to Omaha Eppley. Leaves Logan at eight p.m.”

She reached for the phone. “How much?” Tears spilled from her eyes. “God, it’s over five hundred dollars. I can’t…”

“I know, I know. Last minute flight.”

She looked up at me. “I don’t have it. Even if I cleaned out my savings, I don’t have it.”

I didn’t have it either. I’d opted for my scholarship stipend to pay out in monthly installments, and I was already tapped out.

Fuck everything, everywhere.

“Where’s Edmond?” Autumn glanced around. “Maybe he can give me an advance on my paycheck.”

“He wandered outside.” I tore out of my seat and onto the street. I looked up and down, but the singing baker was nowhere in sight.

You idiot, Edmond’s not the answer. Connor. Connor can take care of this.

“He’s not there,” I said, rushing back inside. I fished my phone out of my pocket and jabbed a number with my thumb.

Tags: Emma Scott Romance
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