The Negotiator (Harbor City 1)

Stuffing away her hurt feelings from earlier, she nodded. “Thank you.”

“Then let this officially establish that I’m a dick, not an asshole—which I obviously proved tonight. I’m sorry.” He smiled and draped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her close and brushing a kiss across the top of her head. “Everything’s gonna be okay.”

God, she hoped so.

Linus made the drive to Carlyle Tower in less time than she thought possible. They scrambled out of the car and took the express elevator to the roof where the helicopter was waiting. Her stomach shimmied and shook at takeoff but settled as they flew west away from Harbor City. She and Sawyer had earphones and a mic so they could talk over the roar, but he didn’t push conversation. Instead, he held her hand as memories of her father washed over her. The time they’d gone fishing and she’d rolled the canoe, getting both of them good and soaked. The afternoons he’d spent teaching the intricacies of football and the beauty that was a baseball stat sheet. The fact that when she’d declared she wanted to live in Harbor City and go on adventures around the globe for a few years after graduation, he’d supported her even as her mom tried everything in the book to get Clover to change her mind.

Her dad had always been there for her. And what had she done in return? Left town. Rarely visited. Limited phone calls to once a week. All because she was afraid that Sparksville would suck her back in and she’d never make it out again. She’d end up like her mom, pregnant unexpectedly and married soon after. No adventure. Just day after day of packing school lunches, the PTA, and eating chicken pot pie every Thursday night because it was her husband’s favorite. Guilt, regret, and fear slashed at her like knives, cutting her up from the inside out.

Her roiling stomach let her know they’d started their descent before she noticed the water tower with the Sparksville High School bulldog painted on it. The municipal airport wasn’t big, but there was plenty of space for the helicopter to land. She and Sawyer got out, making sure to duck low to avoid the rotating chopper blades, and hurried over to a nondescript sedan parked on the tarmac.

Sawyer threw their bags in the trunk while she got in the passenger seat, too jittery to handle driving. She’d just clicked her seatbelt shut when he slid behind the wheel and started up the car. The dashboard navigation unit lit up, showing the step-by-step direction to the hospital that the rental employee had programed in before leaving the keys in the visor.

The drive to the hospital was a blur. Before she knew it, she and Sawyer were rushing through the automatic doors into an emergency room that resembled a library more than even a slow night at Harbor City General. There was a teenager feeding the candy machine a dollar, but no one else was in the small room packed with chairs.

“Jane?” a woman called out.

Heart hammering against her ribs as she prepared for the worst, Clover turned and spotted Mrs. Hermitage, one of her mom’s best friends, behind the intake desk on the opposite side of the room. Squeezing Sawyer’s hand tight in a moment of pure panic, she forced herself to take a deep breath. If her family wasn’t in the waiting room, that was a good sign. Right? Her mind said yes, but her feet wouldn’t move. With a gentle tug, Sawyer led her over to the intake desk.

“Oh, honey, I thought that was you.” The other woman stood up and leaned over the desk to give her a quick hug before sitting back down. “I haven’t seen you in forever.”

And now was not the time to catch up. “My dad, is he back there?” she asked, gesturing to the sliding doors with No admittance without authorization painted on it.

Mrs. Hermitage shook her head. “They’ve taken him up to a room for a night of observation. It wasn’t a heart attack, just a nasty case of angina. I can’t give you any more specifics, but your mom asked me to send you right up if I spotted you. She dropped her phone in her coffee and the darn thing went on the fritz. Nobody knows anybody’s actual phone number anymore.”

All the stress and fear from the last few hours drained out of her along with the adrenaline that had kept her functioning. She stumbled back, but Sawyer was there to catch her. He wrapped an arm around her and pulled her in close, and she let him. The relief overwhelming the inner voice warning her of danger ahead.

“Do you know the room number?” Sawyer asked as he herded Clover toward the elevators.

“He’s in room 405.”

“Thank you, ma’am,” he said as the elevator doors closed.

Clover pulled herself together as they went up, taking in deep breaths and managing to mostly block out the sandalwood and cashmere scent of Sawyer’s cologne but not the comfort of his arms or the reassurance of his steady heartbeat against her cheek. All of her emotions were twisted and confused, but one thing rose above it all.

Okay. Her dad was going to be okay.

That’s all that mattered. Whatever happened with Sawyer, she’d figure out a way to make it through mostly intact. After all, not all adventures had happy endings. It was past time she grew up and accepted that.

The elevator doors whooshed open and they walked out onto the fourth floor.

The door to her dad’s room was open and her mom’s voice wafted out. “Phillip Lee, I can’t believe you snuck out for a cigarette. I thought you quit three years ago.”

“I had for the most part,” her dad shot back. “Anyway it was a stressful game, and I needed a moment.”

“If you weren’t hooked up to a machine right now…”

“Hi, Mom,” Clover said from the doorway.

Her mom turned away from where her dad lay in the hospital bed. Her mascara had run a bit and she looked exhausted, but the smile on her face was as big as Clover had ever seen it. She opened up her arms and Clover walked into them, reaching down to hold her father’s hand while her mother hugged her like a woman who’d almost lost her whole world that night—which she kinda almost had.

“So everything’s okay?” Clover asked, her voice a little high from how hard her mom was squeezing her.

Her mom let her go with a final pat on her back. “Except for the fact that I might have to kill your father.” She shot a dirty look at the man she’d been married to for twenty-six years. “A cigarette. Can you believe that?”

Phillip rolled his eyes. “I have one every few months under times of great duress.”

“You mean whenever you’re watching a game and it’s not going your team’s way,” her mom said with an exasperated huff.