Page 31 of A Secret Chance

“Lauren,” Charlotte grabbed her hand. “You’re not crazy. I gave Baxter Caldwell a ride into town today.”

Lauren looked at her sister. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t think anything of it, until now.” Charlotte’s grip on Lauren’s arm was starting to cut off her circulation. “Lauren, Baxter Caldwell’s real name is Brock.”

“Oh, my god.” The gravity of the situation hit Lauren. She grabbed the marble countertop to steady herself. Charlotte wrapped her arms around Lauren’s waist. “Breathe,” Charlotte ordered.

“Oh, my god,” Lauren repeated. “You gave Tabitha’s father a ride today, with Tabitha in the car.”

“Oh, my god.” It was Charlotte’s turn. “Holy shit.”

“Holy shit is right.” Lauren slipped out from her sister’s arms and slid down the kitchen counters into a tiny ball on the floor. She wrapped her arms around her shins and buried her face in her knees. “What do I do now?”

“Do you think he recognized you?” Charlotte asked.

“It was ten years ago. If he does, he certainly doesn’t show it.” Lauren’s stomach was roiling. Her simple small-town life just got a hell of a lot more complicated.

Chapter 14

“DOES IT EVER STOP SNOWINGhere?” Thomas asked. The Caldwell team was trudging up the snow-covered steps of the town hall.

“That’s what makes it perfect,” Baxter said. He glanced around, looking for any sign of a certain lawyer. He had managed to go five days without running into her and during that time, his team had modified the plans for the resort expansion project. The changes weren’t exactly what their opposition wanted, but Baxter hoped that their willingness to make some concessions would be a show of good faith.

“I could never live like this.” Nicole shook the snow off her hat as they stepped into the mayor’s office.

“I think you’d get used to it,” Baxter said, helping her out of her parka.

“I think I’d get used to sand and the ocean, not cold gray and snow,” she said.

“Yeah, this town is depressing,” Barry piped up.

“Depressing?” The door to the office closed and the four of them turned to face a short gray-haired woman with years of smiled lines etched into her cheeks. “Shirley Smythe,” the woman said. “Mayor Smythe.”

Shit. Baxter thought to himself. Not the greatest first impression. He cut his eyes at Barry who shrugged almost imperceptibly. He knew that he had fucked up.

“Baxter Caldwell.” Baxter pulled off his wool hat and reached out his hand to the mayor. “Thank you for meeting with us.”