Текст книги "Summer Rental"

Автор книги: Mary Kay Andrews

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Текущая страница: 23 (всего у книги 27 страниц)

Ty rubbed his eyes and yawned. “He said you wanted to start shooting in September?”

“Shooting, yes,” Simon said impatiently. “But we’ve got to get our crews in here right away. This place, if you don’t mind my saying so, needs a lot of work.”

“I thought you wanted an old house,” Ty protested. “Booker said…”

“We need to make it look even older than it is,” Simon said. “The art director wants the house to be weathered blue shingles. Like on Cape Cod.”

“But this house doesn’t have shingles,” Ty said.

“It will when we’re done,” Simon said. “Also, Joe wants awnings. Striped awnings, for Chrissakes. We need a gazebo on that deck of yours, overlooking the water, and that piece-of-crap garage? That’s going to be a barn. A faded-red barn.”

“It’s a garage,” Ty pointed out. “It doesn’t look anything like a barn.”

“It will,” Simon said. “When we’re done, you’ll wonder where the cows went.”

“Oo-kay,” Ty said slowly.

“So you can move immediately?”

Ty blinked. “Why can’t I stay in the garage apartment?”

“Because it’s going to be a barn,” Simon said, speaking slowly, as though he were dealing with someone with a marked learning disability. “We’re going to make a movie in it, remember?”

“Let’s back up,” Ty suggested. “First off, my tenants, you remember my tenants? Julia, Ellis, Dorie, Madison? They have this place rented for another week yet. I can’t just kick them out.”

“Fifty thousand dollars,” Simon said pleasantly. “For three months. We’ll throw in a housing allowance for you, as long as you don’t try to gouge us. How does that sound?”

Ty swallowed and tried to look uninterested, although his pulse was racing, his throat was dry, and his heart was hammering so hard he was afraid to look down at his shirtfront. He took another sip of the warm beer as a stalling tactic.

“The girls stay ’til the end of next week, as planned,” he said finally. “They have a rental agreement, and I won’t break it. Your people can work around them, can’t they?”

Simon shook his head. “They’ll stay out of the way?”

“Of course,” Ty said. “Who’ll be doing the work on the house, the construction and painting and all that?”

“A crew,” Simon said. “Maybe you can help us line up some decent locals? Union, of course.”

“Maybe I can be the general contractor,” Ty said easily. “I’ve done all the work on the house up to now, but I’ve got buddies who are carpenters, painters, electricians.

“About the money,” Ty said. “I’m gonna need a big deposit.”

“How big?”

Ty felt a vein in his neck bulge, but chose to ignore it. “Half up front.”

Simon shook his head vehemently. “Not happening.”

“Okay,” Ty said, taking another swig of beer. “No hard feelings. Maybe you can find another house on the water with somebody willing to turn a garage into a barn in, like, a week.”

Simon eyed him. “Are you dicking around with me?”

“Yeah,” Ty said. “But I need twenty-five thousand dollars up front, along with a signed agreement, and all the usual stuff I’m sure you people do with insurance and bonds and all. Or it’s no deal.”

Simon pushed his chair back from the table and stood up. “I’ll get back to you in the morning. You wanna give me a ride to my motel, or are you gonna charge me extra for that too?”

“No charge,” Ty said smoothly. “It’s my pleasure.”

“One more thing,” Simon said. “What do you know about that lot next door? The one with the burnt-out house? That might work for us too.”

“I’ll get back to you on that,” Ty said.

46

The trucks came rumbling down Ebbtide’s driveway around two o’clock on Tuesday. Ellis had just come up from the beach, and now she stood on the front porch, with a red Solo Cup of iced tea, watching the parade approach. The first one was a lumber company tractor-trailer, piled high with pallets of wooden shingles, plywood, rolls of roofing, and lumber of every description. Right behind it came a big box van with RELIANCE AIR stenciled on the doors. It was followed by two beat-up cargo vans, which were followed by a red pickup truck, which was followed by Ty, in his weatherbeaten Bronco, minus the surfboard.

Ty parked the Bronco close to the street and jogged down to the house, directing the drivers where to park. Finally, he walked up to the porch, greeting Ellis with a brief kiss.

“What’s all this?” she asked. “It looks like invasion of the house snatchers.”

“Close,” Ty said. “They’re just going to do a little ‘fixing up,’ as Simon puts it. But I made ’em promise you girls won’t be bothered too much. They’re going to start on the garage first.”

“You mean the barn?”

“Right.”

Ellis pointed to the Reliance Air truck. “And that would be?”

Ty grinned. “Just a brand-spanking-new heat pump and two two-and-a-half-ton central air units. Hollywood likes the illusion of old, but talent as expensive as they’ve hired can’t shoot a movie without air.”

“Really? Do you get to keep it after the movie’s done?”

“Absolutely. All the ‘improvements’ stay with the house afterwards, including the new cedar shake roof, the gazebo, and the barn. Although I still can’t believe they can make that garage look like a New England barn.”

“Yippee!” Ellis said, clapping her hands. “Air! How long will it take them to hook it up? I mean, I hate to complain, but the unit in Dorie’s room is dead, and the one in my room is close to it. Madison gave up on hers as soon as she moved in.”

Ty frowned. “Maybe you guys should consider moving over to a hotel. I told Simon I wouldn’t let him run you off, but if the air’s not working, that’s not good. I’ll make them pay for your rooms. I really didn’t think they were gonna get everything going this fast. It’s crazy, isn’t it?”

“It makes my head spin,” Ellis admitted. “You never told me if you were able to work things out with the bank. Did it go okay?”

“It did,” Ty said. “I finally got a face-to-face with an actual human being. I showed him my contract with the movie people and wrote them a check for twenty thousand dollars, with the understanding that there’d be another payment as soon as shooting is completed and I get the rest of my money. For now, the foreclosure sale has been canceled.”

“That’s great,” Ellis said. “You only gave them twenty thousand dollars? But you said Simon gave you twenty-five thousand.”

“Right,” Ty said. “I used the other five thousand to put an option on some land.”

“I don’t understand,” Ellis said. “I’m not trying to second-guess you, but Ty, don’t you need to put every penny back into saving Ebbtide?”

“Not every penny,” Ty said. “The land I optioned is right over there.” He pointed to the sandy lot next to Ebbtide, the one with the burnt-out foundation.

Ellis still looked puzzled. “You want to build a house right next to the house you already own?”

“Nope,” Ty said. “Not right now, anyway. I’m going to rent it out to Simon and his buddies for the movie. They need an old-timey country store because one of the characters in the movie runs one. They’ve been looking all over the Outer Banks, but everything here is too shiny and new. So Joe and his people are going to build a store.” He gestured with his chin. “Right over there.”

“How did you know?”

“Simon asked me Sunday night, when we were negotiating, in a casual kind of way, about that lot. I figured they wanted it, and I told him I’d look into it.”

“You knew who owned the lot?”

“Of course. Ruthann Sargent owns it. Her mother was my grandmother’s best friend. Ruthann hasn’t been to Nags Head since before Miss Penny passed away, four or five years ago. Not long after Miss Penny died, the house was struck by lightning and burned to the ground.”

“How awful,” Ellis said.

“Not so very awful,” Ty said cheerfully. “The house was falling to pieces before the fire. Ruthann was more than happy to sell me a six-month option on it. If the movie people rent it, I’ll give her half of what they give me. She’s a nice gal, took care of my grandmother after her heart attack.”

“I’m impressed,” Ellis said. “You really are more than just a pretty face.”

“You’re just saying that because you want to get into my pants,” Ty countered. “Now, what about the motel? Do you think you wanna move over there?”

“It’s only for five more days,” Ellis said, trying to sound lighthearted. “Four really, because our rental agreement clearly states that checkout time for Ebbtide is 10 A.M. Saturday.”

“Yeah, well, I happen to know the landlord,” Ty said. “Culpepper’s a crusty old sumbitch, but I think we can probably get him to cut you some slack on that. But are you sure you want to stay with all this going on?”

“I don’t know about the girls, but I don’t mind. It’s actually pretty exciting. I’ve never seen a movie being made.”

“Don’t know about the exciting part,” Ty said. “It’s going to get noisy and crowded, I guarantee, once all the subs start piling in here.”

“Maybe we’d be in your way,” Ellis said.

“Never,” Ty said. He touched her chin with the tip of his finger. “Seriously, Ellis, I know it’s selfish, but I want you here. Look, I need to talk to you about that. I mean, I don’t want you to leave. Not just Ebbtide. I don’t want you to leave Nags Head. I don’t want you to leave.…”

A gleaming black Land Cruiser came bouncing down the drive, sand and crushed shells spinning from beneath its wheels, its horn honking madly. A man’s arm was waving from the driver’s side window.

“Oh shit,” Ty said, distracted. “That’s gonna be Joe, the art director. He’s called me, like, twenty times already today. I better go deal with him. Can we talk about this later? Tonight?”

“Sure,” Ellis said. “I’m not going anywhere. Yet.”

*   *   *

As promised, carpenters and electricians and movie-type people started crawling all over Ebbtide. When Joe, the art director, set up an office on the kitchen table, the girls decided it was time to have dinner at Barnacle Betty’s.

Their appetizers had just arrived at the table. “I think,” Julia announced, spearing a fried shrimp with a fork, “I may have snagged myself a job with the movie folks.”

“Really?” Dorie crowed. “That’s fantastic. What would you do? When would you start?”

“I’ll be a gofer,” Julia said, dipping the shrimp in a plastic cup of cocktail sauce. “And I won’t start for another week or two, which’ll give me time to go up to DC and take a look at this house Booker is so hot to buy.”

“Is there any chance they’ll let you do something more artistic than just running errands?” Madison asked.

“Maybe,” Julia said. “They’re not making me any promises, but I figure, I’ll hang around, schmooze, and worm my way into their hearts. It’s kind of my specialty.”

“It really is,” Dorie told Madison. “Julia, when she’s not being a bitchy diva, can really be totally charming.”

“Hard to believe,” Madison cracked, and they all burst out laughing.

“I’ve got news too,” Madison said, choosing her words carefully. “I’m going to take off in the morning.”

“Madison, no!” Dorie said. “Why? We’ve got the house ’til Saturday, and things are just starting to get interesting. I’m hoping maybe Cameron or Reese will show up later in the week. Don’t you want to be able to say you met them?”

“Not really,” Madison said. “It’s just … time to go. You guys have been great, and I truly appreciate all you’ve done, but … I don’t have a good feeling about Adam. I still haven’t heard from him. And Don has stopped calling too. It’s … eerie.”

“Where’ll you go?” Ellis asked.

Madison grimaced. “Believe it or not, I’ve decided to go back to New Jersey. I’ll hire a lawyer, contact the authorities, and tell them what I know about Don’s embezzlement. I’ve got the cash, or most of it, and that should make them sit up and listen. I hope.”

“Ballsy move,” Julia nodded approvingly.

“I’m tired of running,” Madison said. “It’s time for me to figure out what I’m going to do with the rest of my life. So, tomorrow’s just as good a day as any to get started.”

“No it’s not,” Julia said. “You’ve got to stay ’til Friday night. Please?”

“What’s so important about Friday night?” Madison asked warily.

“My birthday,” Julia said.

Dorie clapped her hand over her mouth. “Oh my gosh, Julia, I’d forgotten.”

“Me too,” Ellis said guiltily. “And you guys know I never forget a birthday.”

“I’ll be thirty-six,” Julia said. “I never thought I’d get that old. But this year, thirty-six doesn’t seem so ancient.”

“We’re having a party?” Ellis asked. “You went and planned your own party?”

“Karaoke,” Julia said. “At Cadillac Jack’s. Friday night. Our last night. Who’s in?”

“Me,” Dorie said.

“Me too,” Ellis added.

They all looked expectantly at Madison.

“Oh, all right,” she said, caving. “A couple more days won’t make that much difference. I guess I can just as easily leave Saturday as tomorrow. One more thing,” she said, glaring at all of them in turn. “I do not karaoke.”

“Karaoke is not a verb, Madison,” Dorie said sweetly. “Anyway, we’ll see about that.”

*   *   *

Ellis was climbing into Dorie’s van for the ride back to Ebbtide when she heard her cell phone ding. She dug through the contents of her purse, eager to see if the text was from Ty.

“Oh Lord, y’all,” Julia announced. “Ellis has gone boy crazy on us. She and Ty are texting each other day and night. He’s probably wanting to know when she’s due back at the love nest.”

“Shut up, Julia,” Ellis said, laughing. “We’re not that bad.”

“Yeah, you are,” Dorie said, turning around from the driver’s seat. “But I think it’s cute.”

Ellis finally found her phone and touched the message icon. She had to squint to read in the faint light.

“What’s he say?” Julia asked, peering over her shoulder. “Oooh, is he sexting you?”

“Noooo,” Ellis said, blinking, and rereading the message to be sure she hadn’t misunderstood. “This isn’t from Ty. It’s from a woman I used to work with at the bank.” Ellis looked up. “You guys, she’s offering me a job!”

47

“It’s my last night in the apartment,” Ty told Ellis when she got back from dinner with the girls. “They’re going to start tearing it down tomorrow, putting up the barn.”

“Kind of sad, huh?” Ellis said.

He shrugged. “It’s just a crappy garage apartment, I know. My grandfather built it with lumber from another house up the road that was blown down in a big storm. And later, my grandmother’s maid used to live here with her kids. And the garage is literally so eaten up with termites, it could fall down before they tear it down. But I’ve kinda gotten used to living here.”

They were sitting in the Adirondack chairs, out on the deck, staring out at the stars. The construction crews had finally packed up for the night and gone off to their motels, but they could hear the hum of the gas-powered generators set up to run the work lights.

“I think your place is adorable,” Ellis said. “I love everything about it, except maybe the outdoor shower, and even that I wouldn’t mind so much if it weren’t so, uh, exposed.”

That gave them both a laugh.

“I’d love to have seen the look on Kendra’s face when she found out she wasn’t going to get the chance to kick your white-trash ass to the curb,” Ellis said.

“She’s still trying to figure out where I got the money to stop the foreclosure proceedings,” Ty said. “I’ve seen her drive past half a dozen times in the past two days, craning her neck, trying to see what’s going on here.”

“Ty,” Ellis said, after a while. “What’s going to happen when the movie people are gone and the money runs out? Do you think you’ll still be able to hang on to Ebbtide?”

“Good question,” Ty said, crossing and uncrossing his legs. “The movie money will buy me some time. And now that I’m paid up with the bank again, I’m going to see about getting the mortgage refinanced. Interest rates have dropped nearly three hundred basic points since my uncle sold it to me, so I’ll save a bundle that way. After that, I honestly don’t know.”

Ellis was quiet. Suddenly, the generators shut down. Now they could hear the waves rolling in on the beach below. Fireflies blinked amongst the tall strands of beach grass, and a few yards down the beach, a group of college kids huddled around a bonfire. Ty and Ellis heard drifts of music from their iPods, saw two of the kids wandering away from the others, into the dunes, hand in hand.

“School starts back up pretty soon,” Ellis said, watching them go. “I’ll bet this is their last big party before everybody heads back to their real lives.”

Ty’s fingertips brushed against Ellis’s.

“I don’t want you to go,” he said, staring straight ahead.

She smiled to herself. “I was hoping you’d ask me to stay tonight. The last night of the old crib. Maybe we’ll even have one last shower out here for old time’s sake—as long as it’s before daylight.”

“Not just tonight,” Ty said. “I don’t want you to go. Period. I don’t want to stand here and watch you drive away on Saturday.”

“Ty…” Ellis started.

He caught her hand in his. “Stay. Please?”

She sighed. “I wish I could. I’ve thought about it all week. Before that, even. Who wouldn’t want to live at the beach year round and play house? With you?”

Ty kissed the back of her hand. “Good. Then it’s settled.”

“Ty, I’ve had a job offer.” She blurted it out.

He dropped her hand. “What? When did this happen?”

“Just a little while ago. It was totally out of the blue. Dana, this woman I used to work with at the bank, texted me the offer, like, fifteen minutes ago. The thing is, it’s my dream job. Dana’s been hired to head up this new project at Pacific Trust, and she wants me to come with her. The money is fabulous, great benefits, they’ve even got a relocation package. They’ll sell my town house! Nobody does that anymore.”

“Pacific Bank? What? You’d be in their East Coast office?”

“No. The job’s in Seattle.”

He turned to look at her. “You’re not seriously considering taking it, right?”

“I’d be an idiot not to. In this economy? Nobody’s hiring. I haven’t had a single response to any of the résumés I sent out last month. Not one! But this—this is amazing. Dana says I’d come onboard as an assistant veep. And I’d report direct to her. It’d be a huge promotion for me.”

Ty hunched forward, his head in his hands.

“Say something, please?” Ellis whispered.

“Like what? Congratulations?”

“That would be a nice start.”

He turned and stared at Ellis. “Have you heard anything I’ve been telling you tonight? I want you to stay. Right here, with me. In Nags Head.”

“And do what?” the old, practical Ellis asked. “How would I make a living?”

“We could live on love,” Ty said, trying to sound like he meant to be funny, but she could tell he was serious.

“And do what when it comes time to pay the bills?” Ellis asked. She swung her legs around and pressed her knees up against Ty’s. “Your life here is a beautiful dream. You know how to make it work. You live by your wits, day trading, picking up shifts as a bartender, renting out the house in the season. And that works great for you. But it’s not me, Ty. I’ve always had a nine-to-five job. Not the most exciting or glamorous life, but it works for me. I’m a list-maker, a rule-follower.”

“You could find a job here,” Ty said, but he knew as soon as the words were out of his mouth that it was a lie. “Maybe not making as much money, but you could find one.”

“Or you could move to Seattle with me and find a job.” Ellis gave him a crooked smile. “It’s a different ocean, but it’s still the coast. Kinda.”

“I could give it a try,” Ty said. “If you wanted me to.”

“What was that you told me on that first awful dinner date? About never having another job in an office?”

“Yeah, well, I was just blowing off steam. I could do it, Ellis, if I had to.”

“That’s the point, Ty. I don’t want you to think you have to. You’d be miserable in an office job. And then I’d be miserable. Did you ever see any of those old Tarzan movies when you were a kid?”

“Huh? How many drinks did you guys have at dinner?”

“No, listen. When I was a little girl, my brother Baylor was obsessed with Tarzan. He read all the Edgar Rice Burroughs books, got my dad to go buy him the videos of the movies—these old black-and-white films from the early forties. We’d watch them Friday nights, which was my parent’s date night. Baylor’s favorite Tarzan was Buster Crabbe, he was a silent movie star. But I loved Johnny Weissmuller. Oh my God, he had a body, running around in that loincloth. I think he’d been an Olympic swimmer. And Jane was Maureen O’Sullivan, so glamorous. My favorite one of those movies was called Tarzan’s New York Adventure. I don’t remember all the details, but Boy gets kidnapped and taken to New York, and Tarzan and Jane get on a plane and go after him. And Jane has to civilize Tarzan, you know, to get him prepared for the big city. They go to a tailor and have him fitted for a suit, and he has to ride in a cab, and all this other stuff. And Tarzan, who is this action hero, is just so sad, so out of place in the city.…”

“And you’re saying if I were to move to Seattle to be with you, that I’d be like Tarzan—lost in New York? Ellis, this is Nags Head, North Carolina, not deepest, darkest Africa. And I’m no jungle savage. I have a college degree, two years of law school. I may not enjoy wearing a coat and tie, but I do wear shoes on a semiregular basis…”

Ellis pushed a strand of hair from her forehead. “You know that’s not what I’m getting at. I’m just saying you’ve figured out how you want to live your life, and you’re doing that. And me dragging you off to Seattle, making you wear a tie…”

“Instead of a loincloth?”

She laughed in spite of herself. “I wouldn’t mind seeing you in a loincloth, now that you mention it. But I just don’t see how we could make it work. I’ve tried it before, with a man who was totally different. It was a disaster. You and I don’t even want the same things.”

“How do you know it would be a disaster this time?” Ty asked. “How do you know what I want? Or what you really want? Are you telling me you want to go back to a job in banking, like you had before?”

“No,” Ellis said. “Not exactly.”

“And Seattle? That’s the city of your dreams?”

“No!” Ellis said. “I’ve never even been to Seattle. But I’ve got to be practical. This job offer means something to me, Ty. It means I haven’t been wasting the last fifteen years of my life. It means somebody values what I do. I’ll have a profession, and a title at the bank. And yes, a paycheck and benefits and all those boring middle-class trappings you hate. So yes, I admit, I might have to compromise, move to a new city, go back into banking.”

“You’ll compromise for a crappy job you don’t even really want, but not on taking a chance that we could make things work together?” Ty pushed his chair back and away from hers.

“I’ve known you for less than a month,” Ellis said, her voice pleading. He stood at the deck railing, staring off at the water.

“A month is enough for me to know how I feel about you,” Ty said, his back to her. “A week was enough. You were such a pain in the ass with those e-mails of yours, pestering me to get into this house. And then I saw you come bopping up the driveway, in your little pink shorts … I knew I was a goner.”

She got up and stood beside him. The wind had picked up, and it was whipping her hair into her face. “I could come back out here, weekends, like that. Banks have lots of holidays. Columbus Day is what, six weeks away? You could come out there and visit. A long-distance relationship isn’t ideal, but lots of people do it. Look at Booker and Julia.”

“Booker and Julia are getting married. She’s moving to DC to be with him, isn’t that what you told me?”

Ellis bit her lip and wished she hadn’t brought it up. “They’ve been together for years and years. It’s different with us, Ty. You know it is.”

He looked at her steadily, at her dark hair blowing in the wind. She kept trying to brush it away from her face, control it. Maybe she was right, maybe he didn’t have any right to ask her to believe in him, to believe in them. But shouldn’t she believe in them too?

“Time’s got nothing to do with it,” he said finally. “Kendra and me? We’d known each other since grade school. Started dating in eighth grade. I thought I knew everything about her. She sure as hell knew everything about me, or so she thought.”

The wind had picked up more, he turned his back to the railing, and now he was looking at the apartment, thinking about his last night here, and how he wanted it to be. Through the kitchen window, he could see the bottle of wine he’d bought, sitting on the counter. And he was thinking about how he’d been planning this evening ever since Joe broke the news that they’d tear the place down come morning. Things were not going according to plan.

“Kendra and I were together, from the time we were, like, fourteen, ’til we split up in law school,” Ty said. “This apartment? I shouldn’t tell you this, but for some reason, I feel like I have to. We’d sneak over here in high school, you know, late at night. It was never locked.”

He saw the look of mild shock on Ellis’s face. “We were kids, still in high school. Kendra loved breaking the rules, loved the idea of pushing her daddy’s buttons. He’d have had me arrested if he knew what we were up to over here.”

“I don’t want to hear this,” Ellis said, stony faced. “I realize it was a long time ago, but I don’t want to hear about you sleeping with your girlfriend in the same place where we’ve been sleeping.”

“Not the same bed,” Ty said hastily. “God no. There wasn’t even a bed here, back then. Just an air mattress.”

“Why are you telling me this?” Ellis demanded. “You want to hurt me, because I’m being realistic? Because I won’t just throw my life away and move in down here with you? Move in where? You won’t even have a place to live after tomorrow.”

“I’ve got a little cottage rented less than half a mile down the Beach Road,” Ty said. “Pelican Cottage. It sits right on the dunes. It’s rustic, but you’d love it. And then, when the movie people are gone, we could come right back to Ebbtide.”

“Not the point,” Ellis said.

“I’m telling you all this,” Ty said, “because I have a point to make. And that point is, it doesn’t matter how long you’ve known somebody. People change. Or you don’t really know them as well as you thought you did in the first place. You told me you made a huge mistake marrying a man you’d only known a short time. Well, I made a huge mistake too. Only I’d known Kendra most of my life. And it didn’t make any difference, because we ended up just as miserable as you were. We were kids back then, young and dumb. Not like now.”

Ellis was looking at the apartment too. It was tiny, cramped, barely two rooms. She’d fantasized about staying here with Ty, waking up with him, about moonlight showers and beach walks at sunrise. But it wasn’t until this moment that she realized all her fantasies were based on the one sun-splashed idyllic summer month they’d spent together. Summer.

September was a handful of days away. And then summer would be gone.

“You’re right,” she told Ty. “We’re not kids anymore. We’re old enough to recognize that some things are just … of the moment. Ephemeral. Like the shells you pick up at the beach. They’re so shiny and perfect and pearlescent when you pick them up, and then when you get them back home, they’re all bleached out and lifeless. I’m afraid that’s what we’d be like. Three months from now, six months from now, wondering what we saw in each other…”

Ty’s expression darkened. “Really, Ellis? That’s what I am to you? Just some hot guy you picked up at the beach? A fling?”

“No!” Ellis cried. “You know that’s not what I meant.”

“Sure you did,” Ty said quietly.

“You’re making this harder than it has to be,” Ellis pleaded.

He looked at her calmly. “Do you love me?”

“Yes! But that’s not the point.”

“Do you want to be with me?”

“You know I do. But it’s just not that simple.”

“It’s not that hard,” Ty said. “Not to me. I want to be with you, so I’ll do whatever it takes to make that happen. Apparently you don’t feel the same way.”

Ellis took a step backwards. Ty’s face was cold, impassive. If he could be that calm, so could she. She took a deep breath, and then another, willing herself not to cry or slobber or, God forbid, beg. “Where does that leave us?” she asked finally.

“I think it leaves me living here and you on your way to Seattle,” Ty said. “Alone.”