Authors: Susan Wiggs

Tags: #Romance, #Contemporary, #Fiction

Return to Willow Lake (22 page)

BOOK: Return to Willow Lake

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Chapter Sixteen

“Sonnet!” Orlando hurried over, for once looking
harried, his shirttail out and his briefcase about to spill over. “Wait up.”

“Friend of yours?” Zach asked Sonnet, sizing up Orlando.

“Orlando, this is Zach Alger,” Sonnet said.

Zach greeted him with a brief handshake. “I think the ladies
would like to leave right about now.”

“Of course.” Orlando took a breath. “Nina, I’m sorry about
that. Live events like this can be pretty unpredictable.”

“I’ll be all right,” Nina said. “Zach, would you mind walking
me to my car?”

“Of course.”

“Unpredictable?” Sonnet asked Orlando. “You knew this was going
to come up.”

“I was hoping it wouldn’t.” He watched Zach go. “Who the hell
is that and how are you his business?”

“He’s my oldest and best friend and…” She stopped, remembering
her earlier thoughts about sleeping with Zach. “I don’t really need to explain
him to you.”

“You don’t need to, but I want to know all the people in your
life. And with all due respect, he didn’t seem all that friendly.”

“We’ve had our ups and downs. Zach and I—”

“Wait a second. Zach Alger. Why do I know that name?”

“You’re looking at me funny. Why are you looking at me
funny?”

“Your father mentioned him. Said he was trouble.”

She recalled confessing Zach’s troubles to her father, back
when Matthew Alger was arrested and Zach declared himself an emancipated minor.
Her dad had seemed sympathetic at the time. “Like I said, I’ve known Zach
forever, and I’m sure I’ve spoken to my father about him. He’s a good guy. He’s
gone through some rough times and his own father is no prize, but Zach is
definitely
not
trouble. If anything, he made the
situation in there a lot more tolerable.” She felt a fresh rush of gratitude for
what Zach had done with the sound system.

“What’s he do around here?”

“He’s an award-winning filmmaker.”

“Ah.”

“Why ‘ah’? Why do you say it like that?”

“‘Award-winning filmmaker’ is usually a euphemism for ‘My day
job requires me to wear a white paper hat.’”

“Very funny. Zach’s working on the Flick production. He’s
actually the chief videographer.”

“So you work with him.”

“Every day. And excuse me for pointing this out, but you’ve
changed the subject. My mom and I were just ambushed by some stupid, ignorant
political operatives, so I don’t really need the twenty questions right
now.”

“I’m sorry about that. I am. I wish that hadn’t happened.”

“But you knew it was going to. Or something like it. Couldn’t
you have stopped it, or at least moved the event to another town?”

“That would have made us seem afraid to make an appearance. We
needed to prove to the opposition that we don’t have anything to hide. We had to
show that your father’s willing to face up to his past mistakes.”

“Ah, that word. Love that, Orlando. Love being called a
mistake.”

“It’s not my word. Good God, if you were a mistake, let’s hope
people will make more of them.”

She could still picture the expression on her mother’s face,
still feel the pounding of her own heart when they were confronted. She was
horrified by the encounter and the questions and innuendo. “What’s next?” she
asked him. “Should my mom and I brace ourselves for more attacks?”

He touched her shoulder. “I don’t have a crystal ball, but I’m
guessing this will blow over. Nina is dealing with cancer. And is expecting a
baby to boot. I’m sorry they harassed her, but now we can make them look like
the anti-Christ for intruding in her private life.”

“My God, you sound glad my mom’s sick.”

“Come on, Sonnet. What do you take me for?”

“All right, that wasn’t fair. I’m just so creeped out by all of
this…attention. I do want my father to reach his goal, but I hate the fact that
my mom was thrown under the bus.”

“I’m sorry. Really. Let’s hope we’ve heard the last of it.
We’re going to focus on keeping the media on message and getting your father
elected. It’s his dream, Sonnet, and it’s a big one, but it could be the start
of something amazing, not just for him, but for everyone. He needs our full
support.”

“Why do people have to get stepped on in order for him to reach
his dream?”

“I didn’t create the system.” He gave her a hug. All around
them, crews were rolling up and preparing to leave town. “I have to get going,”
he added. “Call you later?”

“Sure, of course.”

“I’d like to talk about us,” he said.

“What about us?”

“Not here, though,” he said. “And not now. But soon. The two of
us are really good together, and I miss you.”

“I miss you, too,” she said quietly, and watched him head
toward the campaign bus. She felt a niggling confusion, not knowing if it was
Orlando she missed, or their life in the city—the bustle and excitement
surrounding her father. For now, though, she belonged here.

* * *

She saw Orlando stop and talk to Shane Gilmore, who was
carrying a Delvecchio for Senate sign. He set down his sign and handed something
to Orlando. Sonnet felt a chill of premonition. When Gilmore walked away, she
hurried over to Orlando.

“What was that about?” she asked him.

He hesitated, just for a second, which wasn’t like him. Orlando
never hesitated; he was always decisive. “Some local guy—do you know him?”

“Kind of. He’s the bank president. He once dated my mom, but it
didn’t work out. He has a habit of making trouble for people who trouble
him.”
And he saw Zach and me the morning after the
boathouse
. She didn’t say so aloud, but even now, as she stood here
with the man she was supposed to be making a future with, she felt a powerful
yearning—for Zach. “What did he want?”

“He… Nothing. Just wanted to remind me that your father is
slipping in the polls. Don’t worry, it’s nothing. A head game, that’s all.”
Orlando checked his watch. “Listen, I can’t stay. I really need to go.”

“You do,” she said, and a very strange sense of clarity swept
through her, like the sunlight slicing through the clouds. She thought about the
conversation she’d had earlier with Jezebel, and she thought about Orlando’s
words.
I really need to go.

“Before you take off,” she said, “there’s something I have to
say. You’ve been really great, but…you and I…it’s not working.”

He scowled at her. “What’s that supposed to mean? Look, I
realize your mom’s illness has been hard on you, and your decision to give up on
your career is hard on us, but—”

“There is no ‘us,’” she said, and a wave of regret came over
her. “I wanted there to be. I tried my best. But things between us haven’t felt
right in a long time. Maybe they were never right, and we just didn’t want to
admit it.”

“Oh, come on, Sonnet. Who the hell have you been talking to?
Your friend Zach? He looks at you like you’re a lamb chop. Jezebel? What, are
you starstruck by a woman under house arrest?
Nice
,
Sonnet.”

She let him fume, resisting her old habit of mollifying him and
telling him what he wanted to hear. “I feel as if I don’t even know why we’re
together,” she said quietly, though she wasn’t sure he was even listening.
“Maybe I never did.” The admission was painful. The most important thing about
Orlando had not been her feelings for him. The most important thing about
Orlando had been that her father approved of him. “I feel terrible about this,
because I thought I knew what I wanted—from myself, and from us, but I didn’t,
not until now. I finally know my own mind,” she added. “I know what my heart is
telling me to do.”

“Oh, that’s cute.” His face, so handsome, hardened into a mask
of contempt. “So you’ve decided all of a sudden to get in touch with your
feelings?”

“I’m sorry. I don’t mean to hurt you—”

“You’re hurting yourself, Sonnet. Will you listen to what
you’re saying? What the hell do you plan on doing? Launching a new career as a
script girl? Settling down in this place in the middle of nowhere and
doing…what?”

“I’ve always had a plan. But lately the plans I’ve made haven’t
worked out for me, because I haven’t been listening to myself.”

“You had an incredible career. You had a once-in-a-lifetime
opportunity with the fellowship. If you’re going to turn your back on those
things and pass up a chance to truly make a difference in the world, then you’re
not the person I thought you were.”

His words cut deep, yet at the same time, she felt cleansed,
the sharp clarity still shining inside her. “Or maybe I’m exactly the person you
think I am,” she told him.

Part Four

M
UST
-D
O
L
IST
(
REVISED
,
ROUND
4)

expect a
miracle