Page 9

“Scarlett?” I repeat. “MyScarlett?”
He nods.
Holy shit. He found Scarlett. The woman I haven’t been able to stop thinking about since we spent the hottest, sweetest, best weekend of my life together. Before she snuck out Monday morning while I was sleeping and completely vanished.
I went back to where we met, where she was working that Friday night, but they told me that had been her last night. We went to her address after Henry dug it up, but the house was empty. Her landlord didn’t have a new address for her. There was no forwarding information submitted to the post office.
I searched every place I could think of in New Orleans. Then every place I could think of in Louisiana.
Henry, who is plugged into a network of law enforcement and resources I don’t even know or understand, has searched for her.
But it’s like she never existed.
After six months, Henry staged an intervention. My friends tried to get me to admit that I was likely never going to see her again. But I couldn’t fully let go.
I still haven’t gotten to that point, but…we aren’t actively searching anymore.
Or so I thought.
“You’resure?” I finally ask.
“Yes.” He blows out a breath. “I found her sister first. But yes, I’ve…spoken to Scarlett. It’s her. For sure.”
I react without thinking. I grab the front of his shirt and push him up against the wall. “You’vespokento her?”
His eyes don’t even widen. He probably expected this reaction. Plus, he knows he can totally take me if this actually gets physical.
“Yes.”
“When?” I demand.
He hesitates. “Recently.”
I tighten my fist on his shirt and press him more firmly into the wall. “When were you going to tell me?”
“When it was time,” he says. “Maybe.”
Fuck, I hate when he does that. “Stop it.” I shove back from him and push my hand through my hair. “I hate when you get all vague and I-know-better-than-you,” I tell him.
“I couldn’t tell you right away,” he says, smoothing a hand down the front of his dress shirt. “I had to be sure it was her. And then…there are reasons.”
I can’t fucking believe he found her and didn’t tell me. That he’sseen her,talkedto her, and I’m just hearing about it.
“Let’s go,” I say. I turn back to Astrid. “I think I have a solution.”
She’s watching us with intrigue. “Scarlett?”
“I—” I look at Henry. “Let’s put it this way. I’m going to get myself married. If it isn’t to Scarlett, then Henry owes me. Big.”
She presses her lips together, clearly trying to fight a smile. She nods. “Okay.”
“I’ll keep in touch. We’ll figure this out. I promise.”
She gives me a soft, genuinely affectionate smile. “Okay.” She glances toward our families. “I’ll cover for you.”
“You will?”
“Of course. I’ll tell them we’ve discussed things, but we need some time to really figure things out.”