But damn, sitting there with him in his backyard, such a romantic setting...or maybe it was the caffeine in the tea...she could feel her heart racing.

“They agreed that he wouldn’t look for her as long as she answered her cell when he called, or at least called him right back. Just so that he knows she’s okay.”

“He called her three times in an hour today. And all day yesterday, too.”

His pause gave her a moment’s comfort. He was taking her seriously.

“Perhaps she didn’t answer. He must have been worried.”

“The only way I know he called is because she did answer. These are just the calls that happened at the Stand and were witnessed. There could be more. Sara Havens is concerned, Brett. She’s the one who told me about them.”

Brett might not have met Sara personally, but she knew he’d be fully aware of every member of the staff at The Lemonade Stand.

“Did Sara witness them?”

“Today she did. Some residents overheard her conversations yesterday and were worried enough that they told Sara about them. Sara purposely made herself busy in the kitchen today to get to know Chloe and get a feel for what was going on.”

“And after she witnessed the calls she was concerned.”

“Yes.”

“I’ll talk to him again.”

He looked sad now, as he gazed out at his yard. She knew how much this had to be hurting him. As far as Brett was concerned, Jeff had saved his life.

He used to say twice. The first time when he’d pulled Brett from the hell of having lost his family—his little sister to leukemia and his relationship with his parents due to the domestic violence in their home.

And the second when Jeff had introduced Brett to Ella.

“If we figure out what’s going on, what’s brought about the change in him, we can stop this, help him, before it’s too late.” For Jeff, of all people, to be suddenly aggressive at home—to be physically harming his family—it had to be heartbreaking for Brett, too. “He’s my brother, Brett. You know how much I love him...”

Her voice broke, and Brett’s glance landed on her. He nodded. Looked like he was going to say more and then stood.

“I’ve got to get going if I’m going to catch that plane,” he said, gathering up their glasses. Neither of them had been emptied.

She stood, too. Told him she’d let herself out, and when he turned to the kitchen sink, she moved in the opposite direction. At the front door, she paused—hoping that he’d come after her?—and said, “Have a safe trip” very softly before exiting his home alone.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

BOTHERED MORE THAN he wanted to acknowledge by Jeff’s frequent calls to Chloe, Brett changed his flight plan for Thursday, stopping off for a layover at the Palm Springs International Airport before heading on to LA. He had an eight-thirty meeting in LA Friday morning with the district attorney regarding Americans Against Prejudice. He was a key witness in the charges being brought against board members, and this meeting could turn out to be the first of many informal depositions before the case really got off the ground.

He’d been planning to get home for the night first, but would now be staying over at an airport hotel he frequented in LA when he had early-morning flights out. He’d made a habit of always having an extra shirt and tie packed in case he was away longer than he’d planned.

He was relieved to see Jeff waiting for him at the Celebrity Bistro, a bar and eatery adjacent to the security checkpoint and accessible to all airport visitors, just as he’d requested.

Better yet, his friend had already ordered their beers. Still in business clothes, with his tie loosened, Jeff stood as Brett came in.

“What’s up, man?” Jeff asked, his face lined with concern. “Your message sounded serious.”

He’d tried to keep things casual, but he’d only had a short break that day, and Jeff hadn’t picked up when he called. He’d left a message meant to get his friend to the airport without causing alarm. Apparently he’d put too much emphasis on the getting-him-to-the-airport part, and not enough on the no-cause-for-alarm part.

Not like him at all.

“Ella stopped by last night,” he said, sliding onto a bar stool as Jeff took his seat again and passed over a beer. Brett sipped slowly. Drinking was a double-edged sword with him. One of which he was always aware.

It helped him relax. Was a social tool that put others at ease. And he was absolutely not going to become his father—getting lost in the blessed fog of painlessness.

He wanted to talk about the phone calls. To let Jeff know that he had to be careful as people were watching his moves, judging him, based on Chloe’s interpretation of their latest argument. Chloe could very well be making a big deal out of a marital spat that wasn’t anything extraordinary, but if Jeff wasn’t careful, he could find himself under real scrutiny.

Sara Havens’s involvement took this out of the family.

But he couldn’t tell Jeff any of that or he’d be breaking his word to Ella. And Chloe, too.

“No kidding,” Jeff said, leaning back to assess Brett, a grin forming on his face. “So that’s what this is about? My sister? How’d it go?”

“How’d what go?”

“You and Ella. Last night.”

Brett shook his head. “There is no me and Ella,” he said, taking a long swig from the mug of beer. He was definitely going to want another one.

“You want me to talk to her?” Jeff asked, drinking much more slowly than Brett was. “I know she was pretty broken up by your divorce, but I’d also bet my life on the fact that she still loves you. You take it slow and you’ll have her back...”

“Stop,” Brett said. How in the hell had this become about him and Ella?

“I’m serious, man. She hasn’t dated anyone seriously since you. That’s pretty telling, if you know what I mean.”

Ella hadn’t had a single relationship in four years? What a waste.

And the selfish part of him, the part he’d inherited from his father, was secretly glad. He’d mattered to her. As she’d mattered to him.

Even though it didn’t change anything—to the contrary, it confirmed his choice to set her free before their relationship deteriorated as his parents’ had—there was comfort in knowing that he’d mattered.

“I’m serious, Jeff,” he said, pulling his mind back from the other space. “There is nothing between Ella and me, and I don’t want there to be. Period. That’s why I divorced her.”

“And seeing her again hasn’t changed your mind?”

“No.” He didn’t waver on that one. Not even in the darkest recesses of his mind. Seeing his ex-wife again had only made his path more difficult. Which was why he had to get this thing with Jeff and Chloe resolved and get out of their lives again.

Back where he belonged.

Alone.

He sipped.

He wasn’t one of them anymore.

“So what’s this about, then? You want me to tell her to leave you alone? I’d hate to do that. She’s been hurt enough, you know.”

Brett had never told Jeff why he and Ella had divorced. He’d never even attempted to justify his actions. Nor had he ever tried to get Jeff to take his side against Ella. There was no side to take.

Ella had been a great wife. The best. She’d deserved the best husband in return.

Ironic, really, that Ella had never put any stock in the potential for violence within him—thinking his fears groundless to the point that he’d ceased speaking to her about them long before their marriage ended. And yet here she was thinking that her brother, who was the least likely candidate for domestic violence, posed a threat to his wife and son.

“Chloe said something yesterday about you two,” Jeff said. “That’s what got me thinking in that direction.”

“Chloe did? What would she know about me and Ella?”

“Just what you know. That Ella called you about checking up on me. And then she put you in touch with Chloe so you could go see her. I guess Chloe was hoping that once you two saw each other again...I don’t know. You know how women are.”