Total pages in book: 137
Estimated words: 127991 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 640(@200wpm)___ 512(@250wpm)___ 427(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 127991 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 640(@200wpm)___ 512(@250wpm)___ 427(@300wpm)
Though Patricia’s guests were just as lively and the food was as plentiful as the night before, Reagan’s absence ached like a sore tooth, and I kept darting glances at the place where he should have been.
I took out my phone and texted under the table.
Me: You make it to Madison okay? I’m sorry I didn’t know that was happening.
By the time dinner was over, I still hadn’t received a reply, so I tried again.
Me: Please respond and let me know you landed safely.
Reagan: I landed safely. Thank you.
I stared at the screen. I could almost hear the words in Reagan’s polite, distant voice, damn it all.
I thanked Patricia and Trent for the meal and rushed upstairs as quickly as I could after dinner so I could call him, but he didn’t answer.
Me: I wanted to talk to you about what happened today. Please call me back.
Reagan: Can’t. I’m exhausted and half-asleep. I need to be up at six for the event.
Me: Get some rest. I’ll check in with you tomorrow.
My finger hovered over a never-used heart emoji, but before I allowed myself to go there, I quickly sent the message without it.
Sleep eluded me that night, and I was still awake at midnight when Thalia texted that Brant was safely back at the retreat and would be flying home to California in the morning. As soon as the sun came up, I rose and packed my bags so I could depart, too. Despite Reagan’s prickliness, or maybe because of it, I was still determined to get back to the city as quickly as possible so I’d be there when he returned from Madison. All I needed to do was thank my hosts before hitting the road, and fortunately, I knew Trent and Patricia were early risers.
But when I got to the kitchen, I was shocked to find JT was already there.
“I’m telling you, he sounded awful.” JT waved his phone at his mother. “He’s coughing so hard he’s gasping, and he’s not making any sense. I’d fly to Madison myself, but I’ve got three client meetings scheduled back-to-back today. Flynn said my family was more important, but—”
“Wait, are you talking about Reagan?” I demanded. “He’s sick?”
JT turned to me in surprise, either because I was up so early or because I’d butted in on what was clearly a family conversation, but he didn’t hesitate to explain. “Yes. Very. He texted me before dawn, asking me to look up an urgent care near his hotel. He says he can’t make Google work.” JT pushed a hand through his hair and gave Patricia a hard look. “When Reagan can’t work his phone, it’s serious.”
I fumbled for my own phone and called Reagan, but it went to voicemail after several rings. When that didn’t work, I texted him.
Me: I’ll find a doctor for you, okay? Baby, please tell me you’re alright.
Surely there had to be a nurse or doctor who would do a house call if I paid them enough. After a few moments, there was no response. Damn it. What if he was passed out? What if he was alone in a hotel room with no one to notice whether he was conscious or not? What if he needed me and I wasn’t there because I’d made the wrong choices and prioritized the wrong things again?
It felt like for the second time in my life, I was watching someone I cared about fall off a cliff. Only this time, I wasn’t there to jump in after him—
Except I could be.
I could be.
Fuck.
I glanced up at JT. “Is he answering your texts? Tell him to call me.”
He glanced down at his phone, then back up at me. He shook his head, face grim.
Without a word, I raced out of the room to look for McGee. Behind me, I heard Patricia murmur, “Thatcher must be worried Reagan won’t make his meeting in Madison. Tsk. The poor man. He was too preoccupied with Brantleigh last night to even enjoy our after-dinner conversation, and now he’s got to deal with this, too.”
“Mother, focus. We’re concerned about Reagan right now,” JT said.
“I am concerned, Jonathan! I told you I was concerned after his announcement yesterday morning, too. I can be concerned about more than one thing at a time,” Patricia insisted.
I left JT to handle Patricia because I was already dialing January, who was awake and immediately alert.
“Boss? You never call at this hour.”
“I need a plane from Honeybridge to Madison, Wisconsin, January. As soon as possible.”
“Uh. Alright.” She typed furiously. “The company jet is currently refueling to come back to Honeybridge. It’ll be there in three hours.”
“Too long.” I paced across the living room. “I need something faster.”
“Why? What’s going on?” she demanded. “Is there a problem?”
“Reagan’s in Madison, and he has the flu. I don’t know how severe it is, but he’s not answering texts. I need to get there as soon as possible.”