Chapter Twenty-Four

It was as good of a way to say good-bye as any, really. She maybe hadn’t been able to get through to him during their talk. She had been a little hysterical, which wasn’t wholly unexpected after a day of keeping it together. But if this was going to be the last memory she made with Wilder, it had been a sweet one.

After saying their good-byes for a second time, Wilder fell asleep with his arm wrapped around her, holding her close. His heart beat against her cheek, a steady strum marking another second passed. Another second closer to when she’d never see him again.

Unless she tuned into the Design Network that fall. She’d see plenty of him then, along with Waverly, and Virginia, and a shadow of the time they’d spent together. He might tell her this would be the last season, but she knew better. When you were going up against a man like Devon, who had pull over Waverly, you were never really going to be free. No matter how badly you wanted it. You’d lose too much in the process. Wilder couldn’t afford to lose Virginia. She wouldn’t let him.

Her heart pounded in her ears, but it hurt all over. It was like a case of the flu. Everything ached. It was hard to breathe. It was almost impossible to imagine that she’d ever feel well again. Over a man. Over this man.

Wilder sucked in a deep breath, rubbing his chin across her head in his sleep. It sent another ripple of pain through her.

If she was going to have her heart ripped to shreds, at least she’d found someone worthy of the deed. That fact wouldn’t dull the pain, but maybe—given some time—it would mean something.

Her phone buzzed, signaling a new text or email. It was probably just an ad. Maybe a coupon for one of the furniture stores she frequented. Or maybe it was the yogurt place that had needed her cell phone number for some reason and now liked to shoot her a message every time they had a new flavor. She should really go through and unsubscribe from all of those services. She’d have plenty of time with her upcoming unemployment.

It could also be her mama or Paige. By now, Felix had probably told them what had happened. Or at least what he’d known had happened. That little slice of information would be enough to worry her.

The phone buzzed again, signaling yet another new message, piquing her interest. A retailer or sales person wouldn’t follow up so quickly. With only a mild curiosity, she extracted herself from Wilder’s hold and dug through her pockets to pull out her phone.

She reread the messages several times, letting each one have its fair share of processing time.

I know I have no right to ask, but could we please meet for dinner or coffee? I’d really like to see you. After this, I’ll never bother you again.

Please.

Apparently after months of dodging his texts, and after running out on him just that morning, her father hadn’t given up. He’d always been dense. His wants, his needs, had always been more important than anyone else’s. Why should it be any different now? If he said he wanted to see her—and she said she wanted nothing to do with him—who would ultimately win?

She glanced back at Wilder’s sleeping form, wanting to curl up against him and pretend the day hadn’t happened. That tomorrow wouldn’t. That kind of wishing would only delay the inevitable. If she was truly brave, she’d get dressed, walk out of the room, and go hear her father out. Then she’d tell him she never wanted to see or hear from him again. After, she’d go pack her suitcase and catch the next flight back to Austin.

It was as good of a plan as any, really.

She sent a quick reply, telling him when and where to meet—she could control that much of the situation at least. Then she dressed and started for the door. With her hand on the handle, she paused, doubled back to kiss his forehead. She cupped his cheek, lightly scratching the stubble from his light two-day beard.

This had been one hell of a moment in time. And soon, she hoped she’d be able to think about it without crying.

***

Bailey asked the cab driver to circle the block twice before she worked up the nerve to enter the coffee shop. She didn’t consider it cowardice. After the day she’d had, she just needed the extra time to get herself in the right place—or as good of one as possible—before she met the man who’d contributed half of her chromosomes. The extra cab fare was worth every penny. It was an investment in restoring some of that dignity she’d lost in Devon’s office.

So with the cab driver paid and a fresh coat of lipstick painted on her lips, she took a deep breath and stepped inside. She was barely in the door when she found her father sitting at a corner table. He was toying with his cup of coffee, turning the cup around, picking it up with his left hand, then his right. He set it back down to stir in a spoonful of sugar. He tested it and added an extra spoonful. Funny, she didn’t remember him taking sugar in his coffee. She didn’t really remember much about him. Just that he didn’t like it when she and Paige had chased each other around his apartment. He hadn’t liked them making noise or leaving any of their toys around either.

She’d never had the chance to study his behavior in any great detail until now. He was still wearing the suit from earlier in the day, or at least one that looked exactly the same. For all she knew he maybe had a dozen just like it. That seemed like a dad thing to do—find one thing you liked, then buy ten of them.

He looked older. That made sense. Of course he would. She hadn’t seen him in years. But unlike that morning when he’d seemed distinguished and handsome with his age, right there in the coffee shop, he looked like he had more miles on him. The miles hadn’t been easy ones.

As he was about to add a third spoonful of sugar, he happened to glance up and caught her staring. Dropping the spoon, he jumped to his feet, buttoning his suit jacket as he did. He stepped to the side of the table, like he might greet her halfway. But he stopped, seeming to think the better of it, and waited.

Remembering her mama’s advice, she pulled her shoulders back and walked toward him with a confidence she wasn’t entirely sure she possessed.

He waited for her to take a seat before he resumed his position, unbuttoning his jacket as he did. He said nothing, watching her cautiously, like a scared dog waiting to see if he was going to be swatted with the newspaper or scratched behind his ears.

He said nothing. Years of silence followed by months of unanswered phone calls, and he was going to wait for her to speak first. Well, fine. She could be the grown-up in this relationship.

Or she could be childish and say what she really thought. “So, what’s the deal? Are you dying or something? Are you trying to make your peace so you can meet your maker with a clear conscience?”

He winced at her bitterness. It wasn’t particularly fair to start off their second reunion of the day with a low blow—especially if he was in fact battling some incurable ailment. She couldn’t resist the jab. Even if she wanted to be mature, being around her father turned her into a bratty child. There were just too many years, too many broken promises, and too many hard feelings to pretend this was easy for her.

“I suppose I deserved that. And probably some more.”

She didn’t confirm or deny his statement. He already knew. “What do you want from me?”

“I’m your father—”

“A fact you didn’t seem to care about until recently.”

“Which was stupid of me.” He let out a sigh and ran a hand through his hair. “Look, I know I don’t have to tell you I’ve been a stupid loser most of my life.”

“No, you don’t.”

“That doesn’t mean I don’t regret it.” He paused when a barista arrived and asked if Bailey wanted anything to drink. They asked her to come back in a few minutes. Once they were relatively alone again, he continued. “I never knew how to be a dad. Half the time, I didn’t even really know how to be a man. So, I ran. It wasn’t right, but it’s what I did.”

“This self-awareness came to you because of some late-in-life crisis?”

“Pretty much.” He stared her straight in the eyes. “A year or so ago, I realized how much I’d screwed up. It wasn’t because of some diagnosis or near-death experience. I just . . . was sitting alone in my apartment one night, and I realized that no one in the world would care whether or not I lived or died. It was no one’s fault but my own. I’d had chance after chance to be a father, a husband, a friend. Every time, I’d screw it up. Rather than stick around to deal with the consequences, I’d give up and try again. Eventually, I quit trying. I figured it was for the best.”

He reached out as if to take her hand but held back. “So after throwing myself a pity party, I decided I needed to do something.”

“Is that when you started calling?”

“Not exactly.” He broke her gaze and stared into his mug of coffee. “I figured I didn’t really deserve another chance with you and Paige. But I promised myself that if our paths ever crossed again, I’d be different. So when your paperwork came across my desk last winter . . .”

“You decided to be different.”

He nodded. “I’m still not here to ask for another chance. I just wanted to see you. I’d hoped I might run into you, though I would’ve preferred it wouldn’t have happened the way it did this morning.”

Her eyes narrowed. “You didn’t plan that reunion with Devon?”

“No.” He shook his head, his hand forming a fist. “His assistant told me I was needed for a last-minute contract. I didn’t realize . . . I’m sorry it happened like that. It might seem like I’ve been pushy lately, with all of my calls and emails, but I wouldn’t have sprung it on you like that. I swear.”

Though he’d never given her any reason to trust his word, something about the way he said it made her believe him. “So now that I’m here, what do you want?”

His lip twitched, and he raised his gaze again. This time his eyes were watery. He swallowed hard. “First, I want to tell you to take care. Devon is a mean son-of-a-bitch—I should know, I’ve worked for him for years. He doesn’t let much stand in his way.”

“You think he’ll come after me?”

“I’m sure he’ll try.”

She nodded. There was only so much he could do. He could pull her from the show and try to smear her name in the media. It wouldn’t matter much if she kept quiet and ignored him. It wasn’t like anyone, apart from a few acquaintances, even knew who she was. He’d be virtually powerless if she did nothing.

“Second?”

“Well . . . I’m still not here to ask for another chance, but . . .” He offered a weak smile. “This is me opening the door. If you and Paige are ever interested in getting to know me, or letting me get to know you, well, I’m here. If not . . .” He cleared his throat. “That door is still always open.”

Bailey stared at her father, surprised at how quickly some of the anger had faded. There was still plenty of confusion and a lot of uncertainty. She also had no idea whether or not she wanted to take him up on the offer to get reacquainted. But she appreciated the gesture for what it was. Some men, she realized, like Wilder and his dad, were apparently born knowing what it took to be a father. Some weren’t. Sometimes heartache lasted a lifetime. Sometimes it faded. You never knew exactly how it would work out or which way it would go.

“I’ll take that under advisement,” she said. Then they exchanged tentative smiles, and she ordered a cup of coffee to stay.

***

Wilder had heard her leave the room. He’d kept his eyes shut while she’d checked her phone and dressed. He hadn’t flinched when she kissed him, though he’d desperately wanted to reach for her. He’d stayed put until the door latched shut behind her. She was probably heading back to her room. Much as he would have liked to spend the night with her, he understood her need for some privacy.

Tomorrow morning would be soon enough to set her right on the fears and concerns she’d aired out. It might not be easy, and there might be a few more tears—from both of them—but he’d help her see that they could do this. She just had to have faith.

So, he’d closed his eyes and willed sleep to come again. It had taken awhile. When it came, it was fitful. He was just entering his first REM cycle when someone pounded on his door. He bolted up, his heart pounding. The room fell silent, except for the thunder of his heart beating in his ear. Maybe he’d imagined it. Wouldn’t be the first time his mind had played tricks on him while he slept.

He took a deep breath, and the pounding resumed. This time Felix’s voice echoed from the other side, “Wilder! Open up.”

Panic engulfed him again. He tripped over his feet, narrowly managing to find and pull on a pair of boxers before he pulled the door open.

Not waiting for an invitation, Felix rushed into the room, past Wilder and glanced around. “Where is she?”

Still not grasping what was going on—and still not entirely sure someone wasn’t hurt or on fire—Wilder shook his head to knock loose the cobwebs. “Who?”

“Bailey.” Felix flipped on the lights. “Where is she?”

“She’s not here. Hey!” Wilder grabbed Felix by the arm and pulled him back as his friend started tearing apart the bedding. “What’s wrong with you?”

“Paige is screening my calls, and I can’t figure out what I did to set her off.”

“What makes you think she’s mad?”

“Because she only skips my calls when I’ve done something wrong.” Felix shook Wilder loose and moved to the bathroom. “I need to talk to Bailey.”

“She isn’t here.”

“Well, she isn’t in her room.”

Wilder froze, a frown settling on his brow. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, I went to her room and no one answered. And since you two are still knocking boots—”

“Watch yourself. I can appreciate that you’re concerned right now. But that doesn’t mean I won’t kick your ass.”

“I’d like to see you try.” Felix tossed a towel on the floor in frustration and came back into the main room. “You swear she isn’t here?”

“I swear.” Wilder pulled a shirt on. If he was going to have to deal with a panicked Felix, he might as well be dressed. “But you said she wasn’t in her room?”

“That’s right. I looked there first. Given how things went today, I thought she might be on her own.”

Even though he had no reason to expect something bad might happen to Bailey, his heart started pounding again. “Maybe she went out for a walk. She went for one earlier today, and she was still pretty upset this evening . . .”

“You think she went for a walk in the city at this time of night?”

Wilder’s eyes darted to the alarm clock on the nightstand. It was well after two. He swore under his breath and grabbed a pair of pants and his shoes. “I’m sure there’s a logical explanation. I’ll just call—”

“I already tried. Her phone is off.”

“That can’t be right.” Wilder dug his phone out of his pocket and called her. It went straight to voicemail. He tried it again, and once more her voice brightly asked him to leave a message. “Son of a—” His phone rang, Waverly’s name flashed on the screen. “What?”

“Have you checked your email?”

He balled his hand into a fist. “I don’t typically make a practice of checking my emails in the middle of the night.”

“It’s Bailey.”

His heart sank to his stomach. “What?”

“She says she appreciates the opportunity, but since her work was done for the season, she’s heading back to Austin.”

“What?” he said again. “No. She wouldn’t just leave without saying good-bye. She wouldn’t—”

“She says she also appreciates what a difficult time this must be for us. She wants to assure us there are no hard feelings and she’ll stick to the terms of her non-disclosure agreement. She also wished us luck in whatever we do. God, I feel terrible. I never apologized to her, and now she won’t take my calls.”

Wilder pulled up his emails on his iPad. He’d received the same message Waverly was paraphrasing along with another one.

Wilder,

You are the most amazing man I’ve ever known. The past few months have been more than I could have ever dreamed. And I’ll always cherish them.

Right now, you have more important things to worry about. Besides, I’m confused about what I want, and I need some time. So for the moment, I need to go away to think. I hope you’ll do the same. Know that whatever you decide, I understand.

Please be patient with Waverly. Think of Virginia.

Love,

Bailey

“Son of a—” He tossed the iPad aside and tugged his shoes on. “Waverly, I’m going to the airport. I’m going to stop her.”

“You can’t.”

“Yes, I damn well can.” He grabbed his room key and stepped around Felix. “She says we need time apart. Like hell. This is our life. We can’t figure everything out if she’s gone—”

“It’s too late, Wilder.” Waverly let out a shaky breath. “I already checked. She was on a flight that left for Austin an hour ago. We missed her.”

He pounded a fist against the nightstand. “I can’t believe she would do this. Over a leaked article—”

“Well, there’s a bit more to it than that.”

Wilder’s brow drew together. “What do you mean?”

“She didn’t tell you what happened during their meeting?”

“No,” he hissed through gritted teeth.

She let out another sigh. “It might be easier to go over everything in person.” Lowering her voice, she said, “Virginia is asleep in the other room, but how about you come up to my suite so we can talk?”

He’d about had it with giving Waverly the floor, but if it meant doing anything to help his standing with Bailey, he was willing to give it a try.

Wilder was upstairs in under five minutes. He said nothing to Waverly as she opened the door for him. Folding his arms, he leaned against a wall and waited for her to make the first move.

“I’m sorry.”

She could have said nothing else to surprise him more. “Excuse me.”

“I’m sorry for . . .” she fluttered her hand around in little spirals, “all of this. From day one to today. It hasn’t been fair to you.”

“No. It hasn’t.”

“I realize I haven’t shown it, and I’ve certainly never said it, but I appreciate everything you’ve done for me.”

“Okay.”

“It’s not just the show. You were right earlier. You’ve been there for me the past few years in ways you didn’t have to be. You’ve been the best father a woman could want for her child. I see that now.”

The way she said it, the look in her eyes, told him she might not expect that kind of treatment this time around. Damn it all. The apprehension in her eyes, the concern in her voice, the apology and acknowledgment made it hard to stay mad. It could be another kind of manipulation. She had a long tradition of knowing how to work a situation into turning out exactly how she wanted.

“Do you really not want to do another season of the show?”

“I don’t.” He hadn’t really wanted to do the first season, but it was a moot point now.

“And you aren’t at all scared about what kind of backlash we might have when people find out the truth?”

“I—” Well, truth be told, he wasn’t sure. While he could—and had—claimed it wouldn’t bother him, that wasn’t completely true. There was Virginia to consider. She was probably too young to be affected by it now. But she wouldn’t always be. Whatever was written online or in print, whatever was said on TV, would always be out there. Waiting for her to come of age and see it for herself. Then there were his parents—and hers—who would undoubtedly get caught up in the crosshairs. And there was Bailey, and her family, and their friends . . . “It won’t be easy, but we can figure something out.”

She nodded to let him know she’d heard him. Chewing on her lip, she seemed to consider everything. “What about the other side of our business? The stores here and in Toronto.”

“Keep them.”

“Oh, I couldn’t. I—”

“They’ve always been more yours than mine.” It might not have always been the case, but now that they were mostly retail shops with a few design services, his part in it wasn’t much.

“So if we quit the show, and you give up your interest in the business, then what?”

“I’ll figure something out.” He’d been itching to find some other meaning in his life. There were other sides of the business he could manage. And until then, he had a good nest egg. Plus, he could always con Felix or his father into giving him a job. The work part wasn’t the issue. “I don’t know what we’ll do about Virginia.”

“Yeah, I don’t know what we’ll do about that either. But . . .”

“But?”

“I don’t suppose there’s any need to rush into all of the particulars of that arrangement right now. She won’t start kindergarten for another year. We can take some time to figure out the specifics, get some papers drawn up for our personal and business matters.” Standing up, she reached across the table, offering him her hand. “Wilder, it’s been a pleasure doing business with you.”

“I suppose it has.” He hesitated a moment, then added, “I’ve got to admit. This was a lot easier than I expected.”

“You probably thought there’d be tears and whining. Not that I blame you. I can be a real pill.”

“That’s not it. I just . . . thank you for being mature and understanding about this.”

“Well . . . what you said earlier—about my heart not being in this—you were right. This was a fun run while it lasted, but it’s time for new adventures now.”

It was, and regardless of what happened with those adventures, at least he knew they could be cordial. It wasn’t always going to be easy for either of them. But now he knew it was possible to negotiate and find some middle ground.

He hoped he’d have the same luck with Bailey.

***

Paige was waiting when her plane landed in Austin. She didn’t say anything at first, just pulled Bailey into a hug. She sank into her embrace, and the weight of everything that had happened in the past twenty-four hours didn’t feel quite so heavy. Bailey let out a shaky breath and held on. Being reminded she wasn’t alone and had someone to count on made her believe she’d get through this.

When at last she let go, Paige grabbed Bailey’s carry-on and headed toward the exit. “So . . . you turned down the money?”

“Yep.”

“And you had it out with the sperm donor?”

“Something like that.”

“And you’re calling it quits with the boyfriend?”

Her heart skidded, but only for a second. “It was the right thing to do.”

“For now?”

“Maybe. Could be for good. Wilder isn’t going to be able to walk away from everything that’s going on in New York. That piece of crap executive running things is going to throw everything at him. As long as Virginia and Wilder might get hurt in the crosshairs, I can’t let him walk away.”

“Yeah, but—”

“His priority has always been Virginia. I don’t blame him for that. I love him for it.”

Paige’s eyes softened. “You love him for it?”

“And for a million other things. Because I do, and because I know how hard this is for him, I’m taking myself out of the equation for the moment.”

“Even if it ends up being for good?”

Bailey nodded. “No matter what happens—whether or not I ever see or hear from him again—I’m grateful for what we had.”

“Really?”

“How could I not be? Being with Wilder made me realize that I can be in love. And not just the kind that makes your heart skip a beat. The kind that means you’re willing to do anything for that person, even if it hurts you. The kind that can last forever—because it can.”

She turned to stare back at the arrivals area like it was still some kind of link to the man she’d left behind. “He made me believe forever was possible. He made me believe I could have it. I hope I do someday. I want him to find it. Even if it isn’t with me. Even if it never happens—”

“Don’t think like that.” Paige reached for Bailey’s shoulders and squeezed. “It’ll happen.”

“Maybe. But whether or not we end up together, that taste of forever was better than nothing at all.”

Paige stared into Bailey’s eyes a few seconds longer, likely trying to decide whether or not to say something else. But soon she nodded and resumed her stride for the door. “Did you tell anyone you were leaving?”

“Not exactly. I sent an email. I appreciate you not saying anything to Felix.”

“Hey—sisters before misters forever. Besides. Just because I’m committed doesn’t mean I can’t leave him wondering every once and a while.”

“All the same, I appreciate it. I don’t like asking you to lie to him. Even if it’s only one of omission.”

Paige just grinned and said nothing else until they reached the car. Once they navigated their way out of the maze of roads and onto the freeway, she snickered again. “‘Taste of forever.’” She shook her head. “I can’t believe you said that. And I can’t believe I not only get what you meant by it, but I think it’s beautiful. What’s the world coming to?”

“We’re turning into saps.”

Maybe that wasn’t the worst thing ever, even if it hurt right now.

“So . . . what happens next?”

“I don’t know. But I think I need to find my next project—maybe something that’s a little less glamorous than the Design Network—while I work through this.” Maybe she’d allowed herself to get so caught up in the everyday excitement of designing homes in front of a camera crew that she’d forgotten what she really wanted: to do something that mattered. “I need to feel useful—to have purpose.”

To focus on something other than her stupid problems.

“Okay. We’ll see what we can figure out.”

That was the nice thing about sisters, or at least her sister. They were always on your side, no matter what you decided.