Page 21 of Save You (Maxton Hall #2)

Ruby

I spent the whole weekend alternately being happy about my offer from Oxford and wondering whether James would come to the events team meeting on Monday—and how I should act if he does.

At this point, I have to admit that my New Year’s resolution to make a clean break has failed.

James is everywhere. Either in person or in my thoughts—and I don’t see any way of changing that in the future, especially as remembering his words, even two days later, still sends an excited tingle through my body.

And I feel that exact same tingle now as Lin and I walk into the meeting room after lunch and see James in his usual place, with a book in hand, which is normal for him lately.

I glance over, curious to see what it is this time—the new John Green novel—then hastily look away and ask Lin to go through the agenda with me again before the others arrive.

The minutes stretch out like chewing gum, but eventually, Camille strolls in last, and we can get started.

“Doug,” Lin says. “The posters are looking great. We’ve had loads of compliments on them already.”

Doug flashes Lin a fleeting smile, which is still more than anyone else has gotten out of him in recent meetings.

“They might even attract the attention of a potential sponsor or two.”

I nod. “The guest list is much healthier now too. Although we still need some speakers, which is worrying me. We don’t have much time left,” I say. “Kieran, did that professor ever get back to you?”

“Yeah,” he replies, but he doesn’t look too thrilled, so I can guess what’s coming next. “He’s too busy, I’m afraid. But he did say he’d make a decent donation.”

“OK, well, that’s that. Better than nothing.” I give him an encouraging smile. “Has anyone else made any progress?”

Nobody speaks.

“All right, fine, then—”

James clears his throat.

For a moment, I’m in two minds. I don’t want to look at him. But I can’t ignore him either. That would just make the others ask questions that I don’t want to answer. Can’t answer.

“Yes, Beaufort?” Lin jumps in for me.

“Alice Campbell says she’ll make the closing speech.”

My head jerks up.

James meets my eyes. It’s only now that I see how pale his face is. And there are dark circles under his eyes, like he hasn’t slept since Saturday.

I still regret yelling those words at him. He didn’t deserve that, and I wish I could talk to him again calmly and explain why I got so angry when he turned up on my doorstep.

My guilty conscience must show on my face, because James’s eyes narrow before he carries on like nothing ever happened.

“The Family Center really helped her and her family to get back on their feet a few years ago. She’d be happy to help out with the gala.

I told her that you’d be in touch to discuss the details. ”

I stare at him in disbelief. It’s only when a small but satisfied smile spreads over his face that I realize this is no coincidence. He actually remembered that I once mentioned in passing how much I admire Alice Campbell and her work.

I don’t know what to do with this information. The longer I think about it, the more I want to have a quiet conversation with him.

I’m desperately wondering how I can ask him to wait a moment after the meeting.

“That’s amazing, Beaufort,” Lin says when I’ve gone too long without answering. “Thank you. If you have anyone else we could contact, please let us know.”

James coughs again. “And Boyd Hall is all sorted. I’ve booked the décor firm for next Friday at four, and let Mr. Jones know.”

For a moment, there’s total silence in the meeting room.

“Considering how much you hated this team at first, you’re really putting the work in now,” Jessalyn remarks.

James doesn’t reply, just looks at me again, in a way that gives me goose bumps all down my arms.

“That’s straight after our meeting,” Lin says. “So I suggest we all go over there together, OK?”

Mumbles of agreement fill the room.

“The next thing on the list is the photo booth,” Lin continues, dragging me back to the present.

Suddenly, I have a flash of inspiration. It’s risky but thrilling. It’ll give me a chance to speak to James and apologize to him. Safely away from Lin’s critical eyes and Camille’s curious ears.

“Right.” I clear my throat. “My parents say I can borrow their car on Saturday, so I’ll pick it up then. But apparently, the parts are pretty heavy.”

I pluck up all my courage and look back at James.

“James,” I say, my voice steady, “would you help me get it all in the car?”

For a split second, his eyes glitter with surprise.

But then he nods and says, “Yeah, sure,” like I didn’t ask him anything special.

I ignore both Camille’s quiet gasp and Lin’s speaking glance and spend the rest of the meeting staring at my planner and asking myself what the hell I just got myself into.

James is waiting for me as I drive into the Maxton Hall parking lot on Saturday. He’s wearing jeans, a black coat, and a gray scarf. He’s blowing on his hands to warm them up, and I can’t help wondering how long he’s been standing there.

As he sees me, he lowers his hands and smiles uncertainly at me. I have no idea how to read it. It’s a new smile. One where his body is rigid and his eyes are sad. One that appeared after we split up—after his mum died, and after everything that’s happened since.

I miss his old smile.

I push that thought down as I pull up in front of James. If today is going to be even moderately successful, I have to get myself together.

“Morning,” he says, dropping into the passenger seat of our people carrier.

It’s an old car and kind of beaten-up, but it goes, which is the main thing.

Luckily, Ember and I cleaned it yesterday evening, because I’m now realizing that there’s something weirdly intimate about the way James is looking around.

His eyes rest on the Yankee Candle scent tree dangling from the rearview mirror as I start the engine again.

“My mum loves those things,” I explain. “She adores floral scents and that really winds my sister up. Ember hates the smell of roses and Mum loves it.”

I need to stop babbling. It’s not like I didn’t have a reason to ask James to come along with me today. But I’m finding it hard to direct the conversation straight back to our failed relationship. Especially considering how long we still have to be in this car together.

“My mum always loved the scent of flowers too.”

It’s a real effort to keep my eyes on the road and not turn abruptly toward him. Evidently James has no problem with skipping the small talk.

“Do you miss her?” I ask quietly.

It takes him a moment, then he says, “Yeah, actually,” in a kind of growl of agreement. “Things are different without her.”

“In what way?”

Out of the corner of my eye, I see his shoulders twitch. “There’s no buffer between me and Dad anymore. Lydia wants to take that role, but I’m doing my absolute best not to let that happen. I don’t want her to get stuck in the middle—least of all now.”

“How is she? I’ve hardly seen her this week.”

“Pretty good. I think.” He hesitates a moment. “I wish she’d just tell Sutton. But at the same time, I get why she doesn’t want to.”

“The whole situation is just total shit.”

“Yeah.” For a moment, he’s quiet, then he clears his throat. “So, how are you?”

I really don’t understand how a conversation can feel so normal and so weird at the same time.

“Good. I…um. I got an offer from St. Hilda’s too.”

“I knew it. They’d be total idiots if they didn’t take you,” he replies. “Congrats, Ruby.”

I glance at him in surprise. He looks seriously back at me.

I don’t know how he keeps doing this. One day he’s crushed, standing shivering on my doorstep, and the next he’s back at school, finding the strength to act like nothing happened. And now he seems totally unfazed, even though I know that last Saturday had an effect on him.

“Thanks,” I mumble. For a moment, I try to find the right words for what I want to say to him next. I’ve had since Monday to think about it, but right now, my mind has gone totally blank. “I’m sorry about what I said to you last weekend,” I start. “That was—”

“Ruby.” James tries to interrupt me, but I shake my head.

“I want to get over you,” I say quietly. “But being mean to you won’t make that any easier. I really am sorry. And it’s important to me that you know that.”

I feel his eyes on me. “There’s nothing for you to apologize for,” he whispers.

I don’t know how to answer that. The words sound bitter as he says them and I want to contradict him, but on the other hand, I’m scared that that will turn the conversation in a direction I’m not ready to go.

I wanted to say sorry, and I’ve done that.

At the moment, I don’t think I have the strength for anything more.

So I stay quiet and accelerate. The silence between us gets more and more awkward the longer it goes on, and after a while I can’t bear it any longer and turn on the radio.

The cheerful pop music on Mum’s favorite station is in stark contrast to the oppressive atmosphere between James and me.

We spend the remaining fifteen minutes of the drive in silence, but I’m aware of his presence for every second.

I hear his quiet breathing and sense when he moves beside me.

And the heater might not be up very high, but just the thought that I’d only have to stretch out my hand to touch him makes me burn up.

I’m really glad when we get to the old business parking lot and I can finally get out of the car. The cold air feels so good on my flushed cheeks.

“It’s over that way,” I say, pointing to a unit with a colorful sign over the doorway. James comes to stand beside me and, as we set off, my arm brushes against his.

We’re both wearing thick coats.

But even so, the touch feels like an electric shock.

I take a step to the side as subtly as possible and hurry toward the door. I push it open and step into the small warehouse.