“Well, Brynn wasn’t the bad one. So that just leaves me.” Monica didn’t say any more until they reached the restaurant.

“I’ll try to ease up,” Allie said. “Come on, I’ll buy you a cup of coffee. You look like you need it. Are you sure you’re okay?”

No. Not even. Monica missed Cal. She wasn’t sure she’d ever be okay again. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

They exited the car, and as they walked toward the entrance, Allie patted Monica’s back. “You never do. I’m sorry I gave you a hard time about Cal too. I shouldn’t have interfered. I just want to protect you.” She held up a hand as if Monica were about to argue. “I know you don’t need it. You’ve made so much progress in the last few years, I didn’t want to see you slip back into old patterns. But I was wrong.”

Normally, Monica would snarl about being an adult and handling her own life, but not today. Besides, she was very close to tears. Again.

“When you talk to Cal,” Allie said, “tell him I’m sorry to hear about his dad.”

Monica froze midstep. “What?” she whispered.

“You didn’t know?”

“Tell me.”

“He and Jules left for L.A. this morning. His dad had a heart attack.”

Monica clung to the column near the restaurant door for support. “Is he going to be okay?”

“I…” Allie shook her head. “I don’t know.” She placed her arm around Monica’s waist and led her inside.

“Table for two,” Allie told the hostess. She helped guide Monica to a table and waited until they were alone. “Mon, talk to me. Are you all right? You look like you’re going to be sick. Why didn’t you know about Cal’s dad?”

“Poor Cal. Poor Jules. It just happened this morning?”

“Yeah. Why don’t you call him?”

“We’re over.”

“What? I thought you two were doing well.” Her eyes narrowed. “Did he dump you? That son of a bitch. I warned him.”

“No, I ended it.”

Allie’s head snapped back. “Oh.” When the waitress stopped by, Allie ordered two cups of coffee. “Why?”

“I’m in love with him. I didn’t mean for it to happen. I thought I could handle a fling, but Cal is just so…fantastic.”

“Does he love you?”

“He cares about me, but he can’t stay in one place for long. He’s not made that way.” She glanced at Allie, took in the tight seam of her lips. “Just say it and get it out of the way.”

Allie shook her head.

“You told me so. You told me not to get involved with him. I didn’t listen. Say it.” Monica crossed her arms on the table, dropped her head, and began sobbing.

Allie awkwardly patted her head. “Monnie. Stop, honey. Please. You never cry. This stupid man is making you cry.”

When Allie sniffed, Monica glanced up. Allie blotted her eyes with a paper napkin, taking care not to smudge her mascara. “I hate seeing you this way. You’re breaking my heart.”

“What else is new?” Monica mopped her chin with the back of one hand.

When the waitress brought the coffee, she stopped short. “Everything all right here?”

“More napkins, please,” Monica said.

The woman scurried off and returned with a two-inch stack.

After several minutes, Allie stopped crying, and Monica finally dried up too. “God, this is embarrassing. I’m like a leaky hose. Also, now’s probably not the best time to tell you this, but at the beginning of the year, I’m quitting the foundation.”

Allie sputtered and choked on a sip of coffee. “What? I told you I would ease up.”

“I hate that job, Al. I’m sorry. I won’t leave until you find a replacement. I just can’t do it anymore.”

“Is this about your international grant idea?”

“No. But it might be good for the foundation. You should keep an open mind.”

“So you’re really leaving? For good?” Allie asked. “What will you do for work?”

Monica shrugged. “I don’t know. I only know what I don’t want. But hopefully, I’ll figure it out as I go along. I’m going to call Jules, see if her dad’s all right.” She grabbed her phone and stepped out of the restaurant.

“Hello?” Jules’s nose sounded stuffy.

“It’s Monica. I just heard about your dad. Is he going to be all right?”

“Yeah, he’s going to be fine. Here, I’ll let you talk to Cal.”

Chapter 21

When Jules shoved the phone into his hand, Cal had no idea it was Monica. “I don’t mean to bother you,” she said, sounding stilted. “I heard the news and—”

Cal tightened his grip on the phone. “No bother. It’s very kind of you.”

“Allie just told me, or I would have called sooner. Is he going to be all right?”

“Yeah, he’s going to be fine, as long as he takes it easy. That may require heavy sedation.” She remained silent. They’d regressed in less than a day. She didn’t chide him, didn’t chuckle…just silence. “I’m only joking. We’re going to take proper care of him, of course.”

“I’m so sorry, Cal. If there’s anything you need…”

He needed her. Turning away from Jules, he closed his eyes. “I have it under control. Thank you for calling.” Now he sounded odd and formal.

Monica hesitated. “You’re welcome.”

There were a million things Cal wanted to say, but they weren’t the words she needed to hear.

“If you change your mind, call me. Good-bye, Cal.”

She hung up before he could say anything. Why had he let her walk out that door? Why hadn’t he followed her? Because you can’t offer her tomorrow. You don’t even know where you’ll be next week. Cal had always equated his ability to take off anywhere, at any time, with freedom. Now it just felt pointless.

He thrust the phone back at Jules and mumbled something about coffee. He could use a few minutes alone. Had Allie told her the rest of it—that he was planning on going back to Vegas? Did Monica even care? She’d called Jules, after all, not him. He had a sinking suspicion that he’d fucked up badly. The thought of never holding her again left him empty.

He made another trek to the cafeteria and brought back sandwiches and crisps. Tara placed the unopened food on a side table, but Jules nibbled on hers.

“Did you and Monica have a row or something?” she asked.

“Yeah, something,” Cal answered. He glanced at the telly and pretended to watch the news.

The next few hours passed slowly. Cal made himself useful by checking in with the nurse every hour. Finally, Tara was allowed a five-minute visit.

When she returned to the waiting room, she looked ill. “He’s working himself into a fuss. His blood pressure is too high.” She sank down in the chair and placed one hand over her eyes. Tara relied so much on the old man, Cal didn’t think she’d make it through the day without him. “He’s worried about work and about Jules’s upcoming court date. He simply won’t lie still.”

“He’ll be all right, Mummy. Won’t he, Cal?”

“Of course.” He squeezed her shoulder. “Father will pull through this. Don’t worry about court—I’ll contact your attorney and see if he can postpone your appearance until next month.” She gazed up at him, looking so terribly young, her brown eyes wide and searching as they met his.

“Thanks for being here. Knobface.”

He leaned over and kissed her temple. “I’ll go see if I can settle him down, all right?”

Cal found a young, pretty nurse, and using a hefty dose of charm while stressing his accent, Cal talked her into giving him five minutes with the old man.

Cal wasn’t sure what to expect when he walked into the room. But the robust, arrogant father he knew appeared old, weak. His skin matched the white pillowcase, and his hair looked much thinner than Cal remembered. The old man’s cheeks were sunken, and the tubes and wires running from his arms and chest weren’t encouraging. It brought back memories of Babcock.

George Hughes was a colossal prat, no question about that. As he lay there, immobilized by the equipment attached to him, he barked at the nurse trying to take his blood pressure. He demanded to see the doctor and kept asking for his mobile. “Now, damn it. Why won’t you people listen? I need my phone. Where is my phone?”