“No. Just a little under the weather. Sore throat. Headache. I probably have something.”
“Sorry to hear that. Can I do anything for you?”
Lila attempted a laugh, but it fell flat, more like a grunt. “You’re in Aspen. I’m in Denver. I don’t think it’s worth the drive to bring me chicken noodle soup or something like that. Do you need something?” She got right to the point, no chit-chat.
“No. I was just …” I lost my courage, regretting the phone call. I needed to see her face to truly gauge her mood—her happiness level.
“Just what, Evie?” She sighed again. So many sighs. “Are you okay?”
The truth waited to be set free. I held it between pursed lips for a few seconds. “I’m a little overwhelmed, actually.”
“Oh. Why is that?”
Pacing my lab, I ran my fingers across the stainless-steel benches, checking Sophie’s thoroughness. “Graham was just here.”
“He was?”
“Yes. He didn’t tell you he was coming to Aspen today?”
“No. But that doesn’t mean much. He does his thing. I do mine.”
“I can track Ronin with his phone location.”
“Ronin isn’t governor,” she murmured.
I narrowed my eyes, scratching my chin. “What does that matter?”
“Nothing, Evie. So why are you overwhelmed?”
“Graham gave me the building.”
“What building?”
“This building. My shop building. He signed over the deed to me. Did you have anything to do with this?” I knew she didn’t, but I needed a way to make her feel like I might expect that generosity from them, not just Graham.
“No. I mean … that was really nice of him, and I would have totally agreed with him thinking it’s a great thing to do. But he didn’t mention it to me.”
“It’s … incredibly generous of you guys. I’m blown away, and Ronin will be too. I told Graham it’s too much. But you know Graham, he likes to look like a hero. Always lavishly generous. You married a good man, Lila.” I cringed. Why did I go overboard selling it? Oh, right, I didn’t want her to think it was not only extravagant, but inappropriate—like the way he looked at me, the way he touched my face, and the way his lips lingered on my forehead a few seconds past friendship status.
The Porter curse started to catch up with me, a little dog nipping at my ankles. Feeling indebted to them—owned by them—haunted my conscience. I honestly wasn’t sure I could have said no. When Graham set out to do something, he didn’t stop until he found success. Lila marrying him was the perfect example.
“I think it’s great.” Her somber tone didn’t sell the word great. “You’re family to us. A true sister to him. Family takes care of each other.”
If only he looked at me like a sister, but he didn’t. I felt ninety percent sure of that. The ten percent doubt kept me from confronting him or telling Ronin.
No amount of certainty would convince me to tell Lila. It would forever change our friendship. I couldn’t take that risk. I’d let their marriage fall apart before I’d let anything touch our friendship.
“Yes. We are family.” That was the truth. Lila and I were family. I no longer knew where Graham fit on the family tree. “And family takes care of each other.” I needed to remember that. I needed to take care of Lila. “Let’s do lunch. I can drive down on Wednesday. Ronin has the afternoon off, so he can watch the kiddos.”
“Um … sure. Let me check with Graham.”
“He’s your husband, not your guardian. Why would you need to check with him?”
“Sometimes he makes plans for us.”
“Without checking with you first?”
“Yes, Evie. If you have a problem with it, you’ll have to take it up with Graham. I’m sure it will go over real well given the fact that he just gifted you an entire building.”
Closing my eyes, I let out a long breath. I knew why I felt eternally indebted to Graham. I just didn’t know why Lila did. Scores weren’t supposed to be kept in marriages. Husbands weren’t supposed to reign over their wives.
CHAPTER THREE
A mile of windy road away from home, my Jeep veered off onto an empty gravel trailhead. Before turning off the ignition, a couple and their dog walked past my door, the lady tossing me a smile as she tightened her ponytail. Then the trees swallowed them up, leaving me alone. I cradled my phone in my hands, letting my thumb hover over my mom’s name in my contacts.
Graham crossed a line. Lila wasn’t herself. And Ronin felt a million miles away after the previous night. I needed someone.
If Ronin could speak of voices in his head, I could call my dead mother. The sound of her voice on the recorded message burned my eyes with hot tears. My hand clenched the phone tighter, as if I could hold her words and pull her back into my life. All this time I had a piece of her lingering in my life. How did I not think to question if my father had disconnected their phone?