“Yeah, she’s pretty damned amazing.” And Reed could only thank God—and Norah—that they’d finally connected.
“Gotta say, I’m pretty proud of the Campbell men right now,” Aunt Sandy said. “Mitch, you’re falling behind here.”
“Hey, leave my love life out of this,” Mitch protested.
“Your lack of love life, you mean,” Miranda said.
“Oh you’re one to talk,” he shot back.
As the sniping continued around the table, Reed just smiled. Until he saw Cecily walk back in, face pale.
He was already half out of his chair, his napkin tossed to the table. “What’s wrong?”
But she wasn’t looking at him as the room fell silent. She was looking at Norah. “You could’ve warned me. When did they call?”
Norah grimaced. “Friday. I didn’t think they’d call you until tomorrow, and I wanted you to have the weekend not to have to think about it.”
“Excuse me, think about what?” Reed asked.
But he knew. Even before Cecily turned stricken eyes on him. “I have an interview with Verdant.”
That meant exactly nothing to Reed. He just shook his head, looking for some kind of elucidation.
“They’re one of the top ten marketing firms in the country,” Norah said quietly.
Of course they were. Because a Davenport wouldn’t settle for anything less. “Where?” Reed asked
Cecily inhaled a shaky breath. “San Francisco.”
With those two words, the axe that had been hovering over the back of his neck for weeks finally fell.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered, misery etched in every line of her face.
What was he supposed to say to that? Manners asserted themselves in the absence of a rational response. He straightened fully. “Congratulations.”
Cecily flinched as if he’d slapped her. “I…excuse me, I need a minute.”
For several humming
beats, silence reigned. Reed didn’t know what to do. Should he go after her? Give her a few minutes to compose herself?
Mitch was the one who broke it. “Okay, does anybody else feel like we’ve already done this?”
“She’s not me,” Norah cautioned. “The circumstances aren’t the same.”
No, they weren’t the same. But they were close enough that Reed had been planning for this. “Did you get the stuff I asked you for?”
“In my purse. It’s not as complete as I’d like but given the time constraints…”
Reed nodded. “Thanks.”
He’d foolishly believed he’d have more time to lay the groundwork. Slow and methodical was his way. But the clock had run out. He had to trust that she felt this connection between them, too. That she’d be willing to take a risk on it. On them.
“What are you going to do?” his mother asked.
“Take a leap.”
Chapter 8