“You’re sorry? Do you really think sorry is going to cut it?”

She hung her head. “I guess it isn’t.”

“You want to apologize, then start with your aunt and every other life you decided to butt into.”

Beth continued to sit for several seconds before she asked, “What does this mean for us?”

“Funny you should ask.” Sam tried to calm himself. “I need to think. I love you, Beth. God help me, it’s true. But I don’t know that I can be with someone who would do something like this. I’m glad you’re leaving. That will give me time to think if this is a relationship worth continuing.”

She gasped. “Please, Sam, tell me you didn’t mean that we’re through. I couldn’t bear that.”

He kept his hands tightened around the steering wheel and found he couldn’t answer for several moments. “It’s for the best.”

“You’re angry with me now, I understand that. I’m sorry, so sorry. If you—”

“I don’t want to hear it, Beth. Please, don’t say anything more.”

“I love you.”

He refused to look at her for fear of what would happen if he did. If he saw the pain in her eyes he’d never be able to let her go.

“I thought you’d want to know about Luci.”

Sam grimaced at the sound of his daughter’s name. It felt as if Beth had reached out and struck him. She didn’t seem to understand that apologizing only made what she’d done worse.

“I do mean it.”

“I’m not willing to give up on us, Sam. We can work through this. If you feel this strongly, then give it the two weeks I’m away. We both need to think about this. When I get back then we can talk again. Okay?”

The plea in her voice nearly broke his resolve. At this point he wasn’t willing to agree to anything. Tightening his jaw, he held firm. “I’ll let Rocco know we won’t be joining him and Nichole for dinner.”

“If that’s what you want,” she whispered, tears in her voice.

“It would be best if you went inside now.” He gripped on the steering wheel so tight his knuckles went white.

She opened the car door then. “I don’t believe you mean it,” she insisted. “You’re angry with me and … and I don’t blame you. I would never do anything to purposely hurt you.”

“I don’t know what you were thinking, Beth. It’s hard to believe you could be this insensitive.”

Once outside his truck, she looked back, her eyes pleading with his.

He felt it best to leave it at that. “Good-bye, Beth.”

She closed the door and stepped back, and Sam drove off.

Chapter 36

Beth

Beth didn’t know how she could have been so wrong. Seeing the pain in Sam’s eyes when she told him the girl at the piano was his daughter had crushed her. Knowing she was the one responsible for putting it there ate at her like acid. Sam accused her of being insensitive and manipulative, words that had cut deep. Sleeping had been impossible. She got a text message from Nichole wanting to know what had happened that they couldn’t make the dinner. Beth left it unanswered. She didn’t know what to tell her friend, and in the emotional state she was in, talking to anyone about Sam wasn’t a good idea.

When she landed in Chicago and turned on her phone, she saw a voice message. She stopped on the jetway, hoping it was from Sam, praying he’d had a change of heart and wanted to talk. Holding the phone to her ear, she closed her eyes.

Instead of Sam, an automated voice droned on. “This is a courtesy call to remind you of your appointment with Peter Hamlin on Monday morning at nine-thirty a.m.”

Disheartened, Beth tossed her phone back in her purse and continued out of the jetway. Weeks ago, she’d scheduled the appointment, never intending to keep it. At the time, setting it up was the only way she’d been able to get in touch with the lawyer without raising a lot of suspicion.

After the things Sam had said to her, Beth felt a need to meet with the attorney. If nothing else, she could apologize and hope he would forgive her. If Peter could look past what she’d done, then perhaps Sam could too. The appointment had completely slipped her mind and felt like an unexpected gift now. Seeing him would give her the opportunity to apologize and hopefully set matters right.

Monday morning her mother was disappointed to have Beth race into the city first thing until she heard the reason.

When she arrived at the suite of offices, Beth was impressed with the expensive decor. The waiting area was filled with leather furniture and high-end artwork hanging on the walls. She gave her name to the receptionist, who instructed her to take a seat.

“Mr. Hamlin will be with you directly.”

“Thank you.”

Beth found a chair and drew in deep breaths in an effort to calm her nerves. This appointment was either a very good or a very bad idea, and she was soon to find out which. Up to this point, from everything she’d heard and her own brief experience with the man, it had all been negative.

No more than five minutes later she was escorted into Peter Hamlin’s office. He had a corner office with a breathtaking view of Lake Michigan.

He stood as she entered the room and extended his hand. “Ms. Prudhomme,” he greeted her, “please take a seat.”

She took the comfortable-looking leather chair directly across from his desk.

Settling down himself, he reached for a pad and pen before asking, “How may I help you?”

Her nerve had nearly deserted her and Beth bit into her lower lip. She straightened, gathered her resolve, and started. “I’m here to apologize.”

“Apologize?” he asked, frowning.

He didn’t recognize her name, which was probably a good thing. If he had, he might have refused to see her. “I went behind your and my aunt Sunshine’s back in arranging the meeting between you two. I realize now that by prying into your life I brought you both pain. My hope was that once you saw each other again, you’d talk, sort out the past, and reconnect.”

“Reconnect?” He made it sound laughable.

“I … hoped you could resolve your differences, that there would be healing for you both.” This wasn’t going well. “I thought I was helping, but clearly I wasn’t and for that I’m genuinely sorry.”

Leaning back in his chair, he steepled his fingers and stared at her long and hard. “What exactly made you think shocking us both by arranging this dinner would help?” he demanded.

She hesitated, hoping he wouldn’t immediately kick her out of his office. “In retrospect, I don’t know. This is a weak excuse, I know, but at the time it sounded like a good idea.”

His expression remained closed and hard, and an awkward silence ensued. A silence Beth felt obligated to fill.

“It has recently come to my attention that what I did was terribly wrong and caused both you and my aunt a lot of pain. I wanted you to know that I deeply regret my actions and hope that you would be willing to look past my … arrogance.” This was the short speech she had prepared and practiced on her drive into the city.

Peter continued to stare at her.

“Also, I wanted to thank you for rehiring Mrs. Reacher.”

He scowled. “Sunshine asked me if I would, so don’t think it was due to any generosity on my part. She’s decided to work only on Fridays, as if she’s the one doing me a favor.”

“Oh.” It reflected well on him that he would follow through with her aunt’s request.

He looked as if he was about to say something more but didn’t.

Not having anything else on her mind, Beth started to stand when she noticed the painting on the side wall. She was in a half sitting, half standing position when she swiveled her attention back to Peter Hamlin. The painting was one of her aunt’s. Beth remembered then that Sondra Reacher had mentioned Peter had one of her paintings in his office. It was how she recognized Sunshine’s name. Just seeing it she felt a rush of promise, wondering if she should mention it or not. It only took her a second to decide not to bring it up. She’d said what she came to tell him and it was best to leave it at that, although it was hard not to comment.