Wild Love (Rose Hill, #1)(72)
“That’s…”
He looks bashful now, like it’s a struggle to hold my gaze.
“That’s my diary key.”
Ford nods.
“From like… ten years ago.”
Another wordless nod.
“You kept it? All this time?”
“I figured I’d see you again one day. I just… I’ve worn it for so long that I’m attached to it. And the lock broke when you tossed it out the window, so it really wasn’t necessary anymore. I just didn’t say anything.”
He wore the key to my diary for ten years.
My chest aches. My mind spins. This man has been keeping me close to him for a decade. Breaking speed limits to get to me. And I never noticed until now? What is wrong with me?
I want to hold him, I want to kiss him, I want to tell him I’m sorry for not seeing him. But that key can’t change what we just agreed to—what we both know is best. I don’t want to be another complication in his life right now.
Maybe one day. When the timing is right.
So, I offer him a nod of my own. Accompanied by a watery smile. “You’re one of the good ones, Ford Grant Junior. Keep the key.”
Then, refusing to let my resolve wither under the intensity of his stare, I add, “Thank you for the boxes of chips and bottles of Coke. You’re a very thoughtful boss.”
He winces at the title.
But he still says, “You’re welcome,” and walks me home like the gentleman he is.
And it takes everything I have not to beg him to come in. To be a little less gentlemanly just for one night. But I don’t.
Turns out it’s better this way because as soon as I close the door, I cry, and I’m not even totally sure why.
I’ve always hated Ford Grant—or at least that’s what I tell myself.
And that’s what I cling to all of Friday and the entire weekend.
It’s the only way I’ll get through.
CHAPTER THIRTY
FORD
Rosie,
Decided to pull Cora out of school for today and head back to the city. She’s good this morning, just seems extremely sensitive. Figured a change of scenery might do her some good. Her mom is ready for visitors now, and we’re going to spend the weekend together. I hope you’re okay to hold down the office until next week. Might not make it back until Tuesday.
—Ford
Good morning, Mr. Grant,
Thank you for the heads-up. Of course, I’m more than happy to hold down the fort here.
I hope you all have a fun weekend together.
All my best,
Rosalie Belmont
Business Manager at Rose Hill Records
Rosie,
To clarify, Cora and I are going to spend the weekend together. Not her mom and me. We’re going to visit her mom, and then Cora and I are going to the zoo. Do some things like that. Maybe go up the Calgary Tower. Check on her house.
If you need anything, you can call. Anytime.
—Ford
Good morning, Mr. Grant,
No need to explain. You are welcome to spend your weekend with whomever you’d like.
Say hi to Cora from me.
All my best,
Rosalie Belmont
Business Manager at Rose Hill Records
Rosie,
We’re safe at our hotel in the city. Cora says hi back.
Is everything okay?
Your emails are very formal. Blink twice if you’ve been possessed? Or kidnapped?
I’d feel better if you just insulted me.
What are you planning to do this weekend?
—Ford
Mr. Grant,
Thank you for the update. My emails are merely professional. And I have nothing but good things to say about you as my boss.
As your business manager, I think it’s worth mentioning that keeping your company signature for work-related emails is best.
If anything requires your attention, I will inform you.
All my best,
Rosalie Belmont
Business Manager at Rose Hill Records
Rosie,
This isn’t work-related, and you know it.
—Ford
Mr. Grant,
It would be easier for me if you could behave as though it were.
See you next week.
All my best,
Rosalie Belmont
Business Manager at Rose Hill Records
I’m not sure how I’ll feel when I walk into the office on Tuesday morning.
I’ve spent the weekend getting to know Cora better. Getting to know her mom, Marilyn, better. Sharing experiences with the daughter I never expected and realizing I can’t quite imagine my life without her.
She’s fucking cool. Really cool. I would still think that even if we weren’t related.
I’ve also spent the weekend worrying about Rosie. A pit hollowed itself out in my stomach when I walked away from her bunkhouse last Thursday night, and I haven’t been able to shake that sick feeling all weekend. I should have gone after her.
I let her walk away too damn easy.
No matter how much fun Cora and I had. No matter how much I overate at Peter’s Drive-In. No matter how exhausted I was from walking, biking, and waking up early to swim. I couldn’t shake that sick feeling.