Page 20 of All Yours

“People as a collective will not put that much energy into it. They’re all like that Julia girl went crazy and we want to read why and where she’s been. Oh, and why was she famous again?”

“Who cares what they think? You’re living a whole new life, and that was a different person.”

I moved toward my bedroom door. “One minute I was the youngest woman to win Wimbledon, the next I’m drunk and wielding a baseball bat and all anyone can talk about is how far the tennis prodigy has fallen. And eight years later, that’s what’s being dredged back up by the guy who pushed me off the edge. And I guess I’d just like to prove that I’m not some lunatic.” I blinked back the tears forming in my eyes. He wouldn’t see me cry.

“The problem with that is that you’ve built your new life to hide from everyone. You’ve kept anyone from knowing who you are for a long time. And you’d have to come out of hiding.”

I leaned against the doorframe. “People know who I was. Camden’s figured it out, and dare I say, most people in town are aware.”

“He told you?”

“No, but I can tell when the spark of recognition hits people. No one says anything, though. Which I appreciate. It lets me pretend… and I get it. You don’t want to pretend to be my boyfriend. You don’t have to. I’m going to take a bath. See yourself out.” I turned.

“Wait,” Jonah said, standing. “I’m not about to abandon you. If you need me,” he closed the distance between us, and his warm hands enveloped mine. “I’ll be your boyfriend.”

The urge came over me to pull him to me and plant my lips on his, to taste his tongue, and feel his hard body pressed against me. I sucked in a breath and dropped his hands and stepped back. Did he see where my mind had gone? How embarrassing if he did. “Thanks. Hopefully, this will all turn into a bunch of nothing, and no one will care about Sebastian’s book.”

A strange expression crossed his face that I couldn’t decipher, and he backed away, shoving his hands into his pockets. “We can hope. I’ll leave you to your bath. Come lock up behind me.”

Chapter Eight

Jonah

Sloane’s going along with me as her boyfriend was nothing more than a means to an end. That’s how she looked at it. I was doing her a favor—like building a bookcase or fixing the plumbing. So, I shouldn’t read anything else into it. I drove back to Lou’s because going home alone would mean I’d overthink everything that happened between Sloane and me.

I spotted the woman standing in the middle of Lou’s when I pulled the door open and sighed. She wore tailored tan slacks and a navy-blue sweater set, her once dark hair now silver and cropped short. The insanely expensive designer bag that hung from her shoulder was a gift from my dad.

“Mom? What are you doing here?” I asked as she turned toward me.

“The question that you should ask is why a mother must track her son down at a bar. And for your information, I was here when this place opened. My photo still hangs behind the bar.”

Yes, the history of Lou’s stretched back to 1981 when my parents, Adrian’s parents, and Lauren’s parents had all been high school friends, and their group graduation photo still hung behind the bar that Adrian’s dad started.

“Has something happened?” I asked. “Is everything okay?”

“I just wanted to see my son.”

“This project is going to take up a lot of time.”

“Dude, are you insane?” Camden’s voice came from behind me. “What on earth are you doing with Sloane?”

I cringed.

“Sloane?” my mother asked. “What are you doing with Sloane? Is she part of the project?”

I sighed and stepped to the side. “Camden, this is my mom, Lisa Greenburg. Mom, this is—”

“The famous Camden Carter,” she said. “I know you by reputation, of course.”

Camden’s cheeks flushed pink. “It’s lovely to meet you, Ms. Greenburg. Shall we grab a seat?” He offered my mother the crook of his arm.

“Certainly,” she smiled, and slid her hand into the crook of the offered elbow. “Get me a pinot noir,” she added in my direction as they walked off.

There I stood in the middle of the bar, watching my mother walk away on the arm of Camden. What the hell is going on? I should just sneak out. No, she’d still find me. I wandered to the bar and ordered the pinot noir and two beers.

At the table, I found my mother giggling like a schoolgirl at whatever Camden had said. He had a way with charming the ladies. I dropped into the seat beside her, deposited all three beverages bundled together in the middle of the table, and slid them to their respective owners.

“Camden was just telling me about the tremendous progress y’all are making on the new commons. It sounds exciting. It’s going to be so beautiful there,” she said, rubbing my shoulder.