Thirty-Five and a Half Conspiracies
Page 107

 Denise Grover Swank

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“Honestly, Rose, I’m not sure.”
I nodded and looked down at the buttons on his shirt. The one he’d worn the night before. How had my life changed so dramatically in such a short period of time?
“Malcolm just told me, but he didn’t want you to know. He didn’t want it to distract you.”
I looked up into his guarded eyes. “So why did you tell me?”
“Because you have a right to know.” He cleared his throat and looked down at the front of my dress. “I’m going to pin the mic on you now.”
I nodded, the lump in my throat too large to speak. He slid the small flat plastic inside my bra cup, securing it in place.
When he finished, he looked into my eyes. “You should probably take off your ring,” he said, sounding distant. “I’ll keep it for you until this is over.”
Fighting a fresh round of tears, I slipped it off and placed it in his open palm. Part of me wondered if I would get it back.
He slipped it into his pants pocket. “I love you, Rose Gardner. Despite everything.” He cupped my cheek and lowered his mouth to mine, giving me the gentlest of kisses. “Promise me you’ll be safe.”
I nodded, looking away as I blinked back tears.
“Malcolm gave me back my phone with the agreement I don’t answer any of my messages until this is all done. Merv’s going to drop me off at your landscaping office.”
That surprised me. “Oh. Okay.”
“Call me as soon as it’s done. I’ll be there waiting.”
“Okay.” But some deep selfish part of me thought that if he really cared, he’d stay with me. “I think you should go now.”
He looked taken aback by that.
My worry for Joe and the others, combined with the pain of Mason choosing not to stay, was liable to send me over the edge. I knew he’d stay if I broke down, but I didn’t want to force his hand. He’d made his decision, just as I’d made mine that cold November afternoon.
Everything had changed, and I only had myself to blame.
I lifted my chin, willing myself not to cry. I had to be strong. “I’m fine. Piece of cake. When I get the recording, I’ll bring it to you.”
He was clearly surprised by my matter-of-fact tone, but he nodded. “Okay.” He started to leave, then turned around. “Rose. Please don’t be hurt by this.”
I shook my head, my chin quivering. “I have no right to be hurt.”
He came back to me and pulled me hard against him, kissing me with a possessive fierceness that stole my breath.
I clung to him, and he lifted me up and sat me on the counter. He cupped my face in his hands, but I averted my gaze. It hurt too much. I choked back a sob.
“Rose.” The pain in his voice only stabbed deeper. “Rose. Look at me. Please.”
I lifted my eyes to his.
“Sweetheart, don’t give up on me, okay?” Tears flooded his eyes. “Leaving you right now is the hardest thing I’ve ever done.”
I released another sob. “Just go, Mason.” I tried to pull his hands away from my face, but he held on tight. “If you’re not going to help me, just go. I can’t do this.” I started crying harder, and I heard a hard banging on the door.
“Rose!” Skeeter called out. “What the hell is going on in there, Deveraux?”
Mason gave me another quick kiss, and then the door burst open and Skeeter dragged him out into the hallway.
“I should kill you for this, Deveraux!” Skeeter shouted as he shoved him against the wall.
“Skeeter!” I hopped off the counter. “Let him go!”
Skeeter’s eyes burned with anger. “I told him not to upset you!”
“I’m fine. I’m scared, and he was comforting me.”
Skeeter looked dubious, but he gave Mason a shove down the hall. “Get. If you can’t stay and help your own girlfriend, then what damn good are you?”
Mason gave me one last look before turning and walking out the front door.
“How long do we have before we need to leave?” I asked, wiping my cheeks.
“Twenty minutes.”
I nodded. “I can be ready.” I turned around and started to shut the door, but Skeeter blocked it.
“Maybe we should call this off.”
I looked into his worried eyes and gave him a mischievous grin. “Don’t go turncoat on me now, Skeeter Malcolm. One’s enough, don’t you think?”
“Rose, I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “We heard what you said in there.”
“How?” Then I knew. I closed my eyes. “The mic.”
“Yeah.”
I scanned our conversation, cringing at the thought of it being overheard. “I’m surprised you didn’t hit him for telling me about Joe.”
He shrugged. “I suppose it’s better for you to find out now than if Daddy Simmons lets it slip.”
I cocked my head. “You set Mason up.”
A grin ghosted across his lips. “Guess we’ll never know.” He looked like he was about to leave, but then he said, “Rose, for what it’s worth, I’d never let you do this if I didn’t think you were capable of it.”
“Thanks. I know.”
He walked out and shut the door behind him. I washed my face and put on some makeup I’d found in the bag. Then I pinned up my hair, slid on my shoes, and took a long look at myself in the mirror. My eyes were still red, so it was a good thing I had the veil to cover them. I’d only met J.R. once in person. Several months had passed since that awful dinner in September, but I suspected he was one of those people who remembered everyone. I hoped he wouldn’t remember me.