Chapter 27

Chanel

The contract was mine if I wanted it. Commander Shepherd loved my presentation, though I’d given it teary-eyed. He probably thought I’d lost my fucking mind, and he was right about that.

I’d lost not just my mind, but my heart and soul. I was in love with Ryan, and he said he had feelings for me too, but it couldn’t continue. Images of us streamed through my consciousness. Our bodies moving together, his smile, the sound of his voice and the taste of his skin.

Gone, all gone. When did he have to leave? He hadn’t even told me.

But I had the contract. I could stay on the base and fix it up. Avoid my mother and make things right here for people I barely knew. Stay after Ryan was gone, and Whitmore remained in his makeshift holding cell down the hall.

“No, no, no,” I whimpered, and gripped my arms. I stood in the center of my office, staring into nothingness.

Surely, he wouldn’t leave me here? God, it was such a desperate thing to think – that I needed him here with me, instead of letting go of what we’d developed. After all, my entire goal in coming here was to get away from my mother and to create an opportunity for myself.

An out.

My cellphone rang and I didn’t register it for a moment, continuing to stare instead. Ryan Baker would leave me behind. I’d lose him just as I’d lost my father. I’d return to Meek Springs and become the nobody my mother wanted me to be.

Finally, I drew the phone out of my jacket pocket and answered. “Hello?” My voice was hoarse.

“Chanel, I’ve tried calling you three times in the past half an hour,” my mother said, “where have you been?”

“I don’t know,” I said.

“What? What are you talking about?”

“Nothing.”

“You promised you would call me.”

“Sorry,” I said. I didn’t care, really. I didn’t care about much at all. I sank to the floor and laid my legs out in front of me, staring at the toes of my heels. “What’s up?”

“What do you mean, what’s up? I gave you a week to come back to town and you’re still not here.”

“I told you I couldn’t leave, mom. I had to do the presentation for the Commander of the base.” I clawed for sanity, and brought myself back from the brink of a mental breakdown. My father would’ve expected more of me than to fall at the first hurdle.

I was Chanel Scott. I had to keep it together. I had to –

“I’m disappointed in you, Chanel,” my mother said, softly. “I thought you understood what was required of you when I started the business.”

“You required me to work and find clients, and keep food on the table.”

My mother huffed. “You don’t have to put it like that. I carried my weight, girl. I made the initial investment, and, so far, you haven’t paid me back for that. I gave you the creative freedom to live and enjoy yourself in Meek Springs. What happened?”

Creative freedom? She hadn’t given me anything but a gilded cage, and she held the key to it.

“Well?”

“I got the contract,” I said. It had to mean something to her. Or something to me? I hadn’t even decided whether I was staying here. If Ryan left and I returned to Meek Springs, I’d be in the exact same position I was at the start of all this, but staying? That felt worse somehow. “Mom?”

“I’m here, Chanel.”

“Did you hear what I said? I got the contract.”

My mother sighed for the fiftieth time, at least. “What contract?”

“Damn it, with the Navy, mother. With the fucking Navy! What are you stupid?!” I erupted. It was disrespectful and totally inappropriate, but I didn’t give a shit anymore. I was done.

“What did you just say to me?”

“I asked if you were stupid. Or maybe you’re deaf. Or maybe it’s that you never listen to a fucking word I say because you’re only concerned with your own life and your own agenda,” I yelled. “Well, I’m done with that. I’m done with you.”

“Young lady, if you don’t moderate your tone I’m going to –”

“You’re going to what? Shut down Scott’s Interiors? Go ahead. I don’t give a flying fuck anymore. I am so damn tired of being trapped in that house with you. I can’t breathe without you looking over my shoulder. I can’t even think without you checking in on me.”

“Chanel!”

“Do you know, I stopped keeping a diary because I was afraid you’d go through it?”

Silence on the other end of the line.

“I have to hide things from you, because if I don’t you’ll flip out and threaten to disown me. What kind of mother does that? Huh?”

More quiet. And then a strange noise, one I hadn’t heard from my mother in years, not since my father died. A sob.

“I thought you loved me.”

“I do,” she hissed.

“Bullshit. If you loved me you’d let me go. You’d give me the freedom to be who I want to be.”

“I do love you, Chanel. But I can’t trust you,” mom said, “and I know if I do, I’ll end up losing you like…” She cut off, replacing the sentence with a strangled hiccup of sorrow.

“What?”

“I won’t lose another family member, understand?” Mother’s tone sharpened.

“You’re pushing me away,” I said, “don’t you see that? Every time you try to pull me closer it only ends up pushing me further away. I – I won’t come home.”

“You won’t.”

“No,” I said, “I’ve got this contract and if I have to fulfill it on my own, so be it. I don’t need your backing or your faith to do it.”

“You can’t stay up there with them much longer,” mom replied.

“What do you mean?”

“The townsfolk have already started a petition to bring down that base. It’s only a matter of time before they close it. It’s not safe up there.” She didn’t sound excited about it, but it had to be a happy occasion for her. “Chanel, there are indecent rumors about you and one of those officers. The one who came to the house. The one who nearly killed Timothy.”

“He didn’t do that,” I snapped. “It was Whitmore.”

“I don’t know or care who that is. All I care about is that you stay safe and don’t get involved with a murderer.”

“He’s not a murderer.” And I loved him. “He’s a wonderful person.” And he was leaving me anyway.

“Stay away from him.”

“You can’t tell me how to live my life anymore, Mother. I’m not a child.”

“You’re not even old enough to drink! Your father wouldn’t approve of any of this,” she said.

“And you think he would approve of you keeping me locked up for years? Acting like I’m some type of maniac for wanting to have a semblance of a life.”

“Your father always did what was necessary. What was best for you and for me,” she said. “And I intend on holding to his memory.”

“Dad wouldn’t approve of this,” I said.

“You’re not listening, Chanel. I want what’s best for you as I always have, and you won’t be able to function in Meek Springs if you –”

I hung up before she could get the rest of the sentence out. I didn’t want to hear her crazy opinion about Ryan or any of the other soldiers.

My mother hadn’t given me much of a choice. If I left and returned to Meek Springs I’d have to live with her. Paula couldn’t put me up and I couldn’t afford to pay rent. Taking the contract would mean staying here, while Ryan left to God knew where, but it would also give me a chance at a future free of Henrietta Scott and her plans to keep me chained to her hip for the rest of my life.

A knock at my door, and I scrambled up from the carpet, hope burgeoning in my chest. Please, God, let it be him. Let him be here and tell me that this is all a joke or the plans have changed or… or something.

I placed my phone on the desk, straightened my blouse, then strode to the entrance. I turned the doorknob, opened up, and met the stare of Officer Jameson.

“Oh,” I said, “hello.”

“Good afternoon, Miss Scott,” she replied. “I’m sorry to bother you this late in the day.”

“That’s fine. Uh, come in, come in.” I shuffled back to allow her entry.

“That won’t be necessary, ma’am. I’ve come on behalf of Commander Shepherd. He’s asked whether you’ve accepted the contract or not. I’m afraid he’ll need an answer before he leaves.”

“When’s he leaving?” I asked, and steeled myself for the answer.

“Tomorrow morning, Miss Scott.”

“Oh. I see.”

Petty Officer Jameson opened her mouth, then shut it again.

“What is it?” I asked.

“I heard that the Lieutenant Commander is being relocated,” she said. “I know that you were close with him.” She lowered her voice. “Just hang in there. Everything will work out. He’s a tough nut to crack, but once you get through to him, things will be easier.”

Did she mean Commander Shepherd or Ryan? I bit my lip and worked everything over in my mind. I couldn’t cling to him any longer. He made it clear this was physical from the start, and I let myself fall in love in spite of all of that.

To spite myself, in fact. Ridiculous – I should’ve stuck to what I knew, decorating and pretending I had control over my life and what happened in it.

But the last time with him, in his office, he’s said he was falling for me. He didn’t want to, but he was falling for me. And now this was happening, and the extent to which he really felt for me was exposed.

If he truly cared he’d at least have… talked to me first? Maybe explained how he truly felt instead of informing me in that flat tone that he would be shipped out and I’d stay behind with a broken heart.

“ – the last thing he wants,” Jameson said.

“What? Sorry, I was miles away. What did you say?”

“Baker will do this because it’s commanded of him, but it’s the last thing he wants. I know that there’s something between you two, I don’t know if it’s more than friendship, but if it is, hang on to it. Dig your claws in.” Jameson’s eyes were expressive. “I lost someone once. Long ago. It was my fault. I let go. Don’t let go.”

I gulped but the lump in my throat didn’t budge.

“I’ve overstepped my bounds. Apologies, Miss Scott.”

“No, it’s fine. Thank you for saying that. And thank you for the advice,” I said, “I’ll do whatever I can to – I – I’ll do what I can.” I couldn’t make him stay. I could ask, but I couldn’t make him stay for me.

He had his orders and that was that. It wasn’t as if he could tell Commander Shepherd that he’d decided not to leave. That would be it for his military career and I didn’t want that on my conscience.

Or did I? Maybe, Ryan wasn’t happy in the Navy anymore.

“Have a good evening, ma’am,” Jameson said, and saluted. She marched off and I stood there, staring into the space she left behind, and the gray wall opposite.

Jameson had helped me more than she knew, and I was going to repay her by leaving because Ryan wouldn’t be around anymore? No. That wasn’t who I was. That wasn’t how my father raised me.

Movement flickered in my peripheral vision and I turned my head, then inhaled, sharply.

Ryan strode down the corridor toward me, eyes hard, uniform buttoned and neat. He halted in front of my door and tucked his arms behind his back and planted his feet. “I need to speak with you, Miss Scott,” he said, and the professionalism actually hurt. “Do you have a minute?”