Page 23

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

A lyssa pressed the button to summon the elevator at the Augusta hospital. Callan’s father hadn’t been hard to find, considering there was only one hospital with an emergency room.

Right after Callan left her at the bookstore, she’d gotten a call from Ghazi, who’d told them where and when she was to meet him with the zero-day exploit.

Of course, Callan didn’t plan for her to willingly surrender to the terrorist again. But sometimes things happened against a person’s will. If it came to that, she wouldn’t be returned to Brookline.

They’d made a plan, just in case she had no choice but to meet Ghazi again. Hopefully, she wouldn’t need to put it into play.

Now, she breathed deeply, shifting her focus from work to…this.

She wasn’t great at social situations, but friends showed up for friends, right?

That was all this was with Callan. Friendship.

Her attraction to him didn’t mean anything. Sure, he was kind and capable and protective in a way that made her heart go all wonky.

She liked him, more than she should, considering she knew her feelings weren’t reciprocated.

Though, when she’d been in his arms the night before, when they’d danced, when they’d kissed… It had felt real.

What if it could be real? What if Callan kept taking her hand because he was seeing beyond friendship? What if the emotion in his kisses was more than just physical desire?

She’d never considered sharing a life with any of the men she’d dated. Brooklynn once accused her of only dating unsuitable men, men who either became too controlling—she wouldn’t put up with that—or, as Brooklynn once said, “Twenty IQ points south of a century.”

Alyssa would never be happy with a guy she could run intellectual circles around.

Callan liked to be in control, but he wasn’t controlling. And he was sharp enough to keep her on her toes.

She had no idea what she was going to say when she saw him, how she’d react if he wasn’t happy to see her. Or if he was.

She’d just have to wing it.

Not exactly her strong suit, but she’d been getting her share of practice the last couple of days.

An older woman and a girl who looked eight or nine joined her at the elevator doors just as they swished open. The three of them stepped inside, and the girl pressed the button for the second floor. She looked at Alyssa.

She smiled at the child. “That’s where I’m going too.”

Alyssa’s palms were sweaty, her pulse thumping. Maybe she shouldn’t do this. She could take the elevator right back down, and Callan would never know.

Did everybody second-guess themselves like she did? Probably not. Most people knew how to behave in situations involving humans. She’d always been better with computers and machines and books.

Sheesh. She’d walked into the lair of a terrorist, but she was afraid to visit her friend when his father was in the hospital?

If she sensed that she was in the way or that he didn’t want her there, then she’d leave. It seemed better to offer the support and be turned down than not to offer it at all. At least this way, Callan would know she cared, that he wasn’t alone.

“He might not be okay.” The little girl’s gaze had been on the floor when she said the words, but then she looked up at the woman Alyssa assumed was her grandmother. The child had medium-brown hair that hung halfway down her back and big brown eyes.

She reminded her of someone, but Alyssa couldn’t put her finger on who.

“People die sometimes,” the girl added.

The woman was short, maybe five one or two. She bent to meet the girl’s eyes. “Sometimes, people recover. I know it doesn’t seem like it, but what happened today was a good thing. It could have been worse.”

“That’s true. He hasn’t died yet.” The girl’s expression was solemn, as if she’d seen more of the bad than the good in her short life. As if death were as familiar as Christmas.

Alyssa’s heart broke, and she lifted a prayer for her and whoever it was she loved who’d ended up in the hospital.

She added another prayer for Callan’s father and his family.

The elevator car stopped, and the doors opened.

Alyssa let the others exit the elevator first. They hadn’t gone far when the child stopped halfway to the nurses station.

A tall man talking to a much shorter woman must’ve heard them approaching because he turned.

Oh. It was Callan.

Alyssa stepped off the elevator and was lifting her hand to greet him when he dropped to his haunches. “Hey, sweetheart.”

The girl took a few steps in his direction. “Hi, Daddy.”

Daddy?

He opened his arms, but she didn’t rush into them. She inched forward tentatively, as if she feared he’d rescind the offer.

Callan closed the distance and scooped her off her feet, hugging her to his chest.

The little girl’s shoulders shook, and he patted her back. “It’s okay, sweetie. Papi’s okay.”

Her arms went around Callan’s neck, and he closed his eyes and breathed her in as if she were his sun and moon and stars.

The older woman—she must be Callan’s mother—touched his arm.

He smiled at her, but his smile turned tight at the corners when he saw Alyssa.

She should’ve turned around and jumped right back on the elevator. She should’ve run.

He looked at her a second too long before he greeted his mom with a side hug—not letting up on his daughter at all.

His daughter .

Shame and embarrassment burned Alyssa’s cheeks. She’d told him the most horrible thing she’d ever done, while he hadn’t shared the best part of himself with her.

She was a fool.

His mother reached up and brushed her fingertip over the bruise on his cheek. She must’ve asked him a question because he said, “I’ll explain in a minute.” He met Alyssa’s eyes but the contact didn’t hold. “Mom, I want you to meet someone.” He gestured Alyssa forward.

“I can just…” She backed up a step. “I didn’t mean to intrude.”

“You’re not intruding, darling.”

Darling?

What?

“Come join us.” To his mother, he said, “Mom, this is Alyssa Wright, my fi?—”

“Friend.” Alyssa hurried toward them, interrupting before he could force the word out. What was he doing?

His mother’s head tilted to one side as if she’d suddenly been presented with a puzzle, her shoulder-length wavy yellow-blond hair dipping to beneath her collarbone. Her eyes were the same blue as his, and just as sharp. She was comfortably plump and wore a short-sleeved blouse over a pair of flared jeans and flats. “You went to college together, right? Your name came up more than once.”

Callan had talked about her? To his parents?

His laugh was nervous. “And here they say nobody remembers the person who took second place.” He added a wink, going for casual.

“You wish.” Alyssa tried for the same tone, but it came out forced. She stretched out her hand. “Mrs. Templeton. It’s nice to meet you. I’m so sorry about the circumstances.”

“I’m glad you’re here.” The woman cupped Alyssa’s hand in both of hers. They were chilled and rough, but the welcome was warm. “I look forward to getting to know you.”

As if that were a foregone conclusion. As if she were reading into… Well, not reading into anything. He’d called her darling.

“This is my sister.” Callan nodded to the woman he’d been talking to. “Hannah, Alyssa.”

Unlike her mother and brother, Hannah had dark brown curly hair, which she’d pushed back in a headband. She was petite, almost pixie-like. She flashed her brother an angry look, then seemed to try to temper that before nodding at Alyssa. “A friend, huh?”

“A little more than a friend,” Callan said.

Alyssa shook his sister’s hand. “It’s nice to meet you. How’s your dad?”

Her lips slipped into a smirk, and as she stepped back, she gave her brother another long look.

But he was focused on the little girl in his arms. Or maybe just trying to avoid everyone’s eye contact.

“We’re waiting to find out,” Hannah said. “They’ve taken him for tests.”

The child squirmed, and Callan set her on her feet. “Peri, this is my friend, Ms. Wright.”

“Just Alyssa.” She said quickly. “None of that mzzz stuff.”

Peri rubbed her red-rimmed eyes with her fists. Though she was elementary-school age, the action mimicked that of a much younger child.

“Sorry about your papi,” Alyssa said. “I’m sure the doctors are taking great care of him.”

Peri’s gaze flicked not to her father but to her grandmother, who said nothing.

Silence stretched a little too long.

“Anyway, I just wanted to check…” Alyssa didn't know how to finish that. She met Callan’s gaze. “I didn’t mean to intrude. I’ll just?—”

“You’re not intruding. Thank you for?—”

“Excuse me?”

They all turned toward a nurse behind the counter a few feet away. “Is one of you Mrs. Templeton?”

“Yes.” Callan’s mom turned toward her. “Is my husband all right?”

“He was just taken to his room.”

“Oh!” She hurried away without a backward glance.

“Come on, Peri.” Hannah gripped the child’s hand and followed her mother.

Callan didn’t move, but his gaze darted toward his family as they left.

“Go,” Alyssa said. “I can leave or wait here or?—”

“If you don’t mind waiting. I’m sorry. I should have… There’s so much…” He leaned in. “We have to pretend.”

Right. This was all pretend. “Just go, Callan. I’ll be here.”

He spun and followed his family with long strides, catching up with them outside a hospital room. They all disappeared inside.

Leaving Alyssa in the middle of the too-bright space, confused, feeling like an interloper.

And the biggest fool in New England.