In my room, I slipped out of my clothes and into a pair of comfortable sweatpants. When I slipped on the white, oversized button-down that smelled of Logan, I held it to my nose. His scent was fading but it was still there. I wanted to see him. To talk to him. To be with him.

I shook off the feeling.

Pulling my hair on top of my head, I made myself think of other things. I needed to head back to my place tomorrow to get some clean clothes. I needed to do inventory. I needed to review sales.

Socks on my feet, I went downstairs. The family room was empty. Maybe Michael went to bed. My stomach was growling and I headed for the kitchen. I poured a glass of orange juice and sucked it down before I poured another. Then I opened the containers. I didn’t even bother to sit down. Instead, I stood at the counter and nibbled on the lobster roll in between forkfuls of salad.

Ummm, Boston’s seafood was so delicious.

“Is it good?” Unexpectedly, Michael was behind me and even more unexpectedly, his chin was almost resting on my shoulder as he looked down at my food.

Every part of me tensed and I quickly turned around. “Yes, I was starving. Do you want some?”

Out of character, he moved closer, caging me in. With the smell of alcohol on his breath, he said, “Are you offering?”

My heart was thumping, and not in the way it did when Logan was near me. I wasn’t afraid of Michael. I knew I could take him down with a swift knee to the balls. I didn’t want to have to do that. In the confined space he’d cornered me in, I casually reached back and picked up one of the containers. “Yes, here you go. I’m stuffed.”

He stepped back and took the food.

We both knew that wasn’t what he meant, but at least he pretended it was.

“I’m exhausted. I think I’ll check on Clementine and go to bed.”

“If you don’t mind, I need to discuss something with you.”

Anxiety tightened in my chest, but somehow I managed a smile. “Sure, what is it?”

“There are a few things, actually. Mind if we go in the other room and sit down?”

Panicked, I blurted out, “Is this about Lizzy?”

His expression went blank for a moment. “No, not directly. Are you sure you haven’t seen her or heard from her?”

I straightened my shoulders, drew in a breath, and forced myself to give him a slight smile. “No, I haven’t.”

With a bob of his head, we were both walking toward the family room. He stopped at the bar and poured himself another scotch. “You sure you won’t have just one?”

Sitting down, I found myself feeling awkward. “No, I’m good.”

His liquor glass was more than halfway filled without ice and I began to wonder how much he’d had to drink tonight. Michael turned and leaned against the bar. “There’s a very likely possibility Elizabeth won’t ever return.”

“You don’t know that.”

He sipped on his drink and studied me. I felt like he knew I knew something. “No, I don’t, but I have Clementine to worry about. I need to start thinking about my will. Who will take care of her if something happens to me?”

I looked at him, feeling pricks of tears in my eyes. “Michael, what’s changed? I don’t understand why we’re talking about this now.”

Michael’s gaze remained steady. “I think I made a mistake not going to the police. I thought I could find her and keep her out of prison for what she’d done. But now I’ve exhausted all of my available avenues and we still haven’t been able to find her. The private investigator has found nothing, her cell has no activity, and her bank accounts haven’t been touched. She’s gone, Elle. Gone.”

Knowing I couldn’t blurt out, “No, she’s not. She was seen last Saturday,” I bit my tongue instead and whispered, “She still might show up.”

He shook his head and the liquor swirled in his glass. “I can’t wait any longer. I’m going to go to the police on Monday and report her missing. I should have done it a long time ago. I can’t keep shielding her from her own destructive behaviors. It’s time I start worrying about my daughter and myself, and that means legally divorcing her so I can appoint someone as Clementine’s guardian.”

Whoa.

My shock must have shown. He’d never talked about my sister like this. Like someone he didn’t even like. Like someone he didn’t have any compassion for. I was finding it hard to take in.

“Elle, I think that person should be—” He paused to look at me. “Erin.”

What?

Hurt, I had nothing to say. He knew how much I love that little girl. How much I think of her as my own. Why would he want her to live with his sister, who already has four children and her hands full?

“Of course I’ll make provisions to make certain you have visitation, should something happen to me.”

My patience wearing thin, I fired, “Why are you telling me this? Shouldn’t you be discussing it with your sister?”

His voice as calm as an unruffled breeze, he answered, “I thought you might disagree.”

Blinking at him, I couldn’t help but wonder if he was somehow looking to blackmail me in some way. I hoped it was the liquor he was consuming that was sending the wrong vibe my way. Rising to my feet, I strode closer to him. “If you’re asking me if I want to be named Clementine’s guardian, you already know I do.”

There was a darkness in his eyes I’d never seen. “That’s what I thought, Elle. Now, there’s something I need your help with.”

Even though we were alone in the house, he turned the music up, and whispered.

I listened, nodded, and after much thought, hesitantly said, “I’ll think about it and let you know tomorrow.”

With his simple request on the table, he set his glass down and headed for the stairs. When he was halfway, he turned and said, “Good night, Elle.”

Pulse racing, once I knew he was in his room I scurried up the stairs and into the room I’d been staying in. I’d slept here many nights, but for the first time since I’d arrived in Boston more than three months ago, I locked my door.

After brushing my teeth and washing my face, I got into bed and held my phone close. When I couldn’t take it anymore, I called Logan. I had to talk to him.

It only rang once. “Elle, everything okay?”

I sunk further down onto my pillow. “I needed to hear your voice.”

There was a lot of noise in the background. He was out somewhere. “Are you sure you’re okay? You don’t sound right. Did something happen?”

In a whisper, I told him, “I need to tell you something.”

“Elle, I can’t hear you,” Logan said.

I opened my mouth to speak again.

“Sorry I’m late.” It was a female voice I didn’t recognize.

“Hey, can I call you back?” Logan asked clearly into the phone. Clearly to me.

Crushed, I answered with barely audible words. “No, you don’t have to.”

“Elle.” He said my name as if it pained him.

“I shouldn’t have called,” I said louder and hung up.

I remembered wondering that first night at Molly’s if he had a girlfriend, or a girl, or someone in his life. Was that the voice I’d just heard?

Deep.

Husky.

Sexy.

Was that the real reason he’d left me alone in his hotel room?

Tears were streaming down my face.

I felt like I’d been stabbed in the chest, right through my heart.

But really, what had I expected? That he’d tell me he loved me after knowing me for only five days?

I covered my face with my hands and relived the day my mother died, the day my kidney failed her, the day I was declared unable to ever give life, the day my father declared me useless.

Somehow, amidst my sorrow, I fell asleep.

Clementine was the only joy I had in my life now. I wouldn’t lose her.

Sometime later during the night I heard my phone ring.

I didn’t answer.

He left a message that if I needed anything, I should contact Declan at Mulligan’s Cup or Frank at Molly’s.