Chapters (39)
- Praise
- Also by
- Title Page
- Copyright Page
- Dedication
- Acknowledgments
- Chapter 1
- Chapter 2
- Chapter 3
- Chapter 4
- Chapter 5
- Chapter 6
- Chapter 7
- Chapter 8
- Chapter 9
- Chapter 10
- Chapter 11
- Chapter 12
- Chapter 13
- Chapter 14
- Chapter 15
- Chapter 16
- Chapter 17
- Chapter 18
- Chapter 19
- Chapter 20
- Chapter 21
- Chapter 22
- Chapter 23
- Chapter 24
- Chapter 25
- Chapter 26
- Chapter 27
- Chapter 28
- Chapter 29
- Chapter 30
- Chapter 31
- Chapter 32
- Author’s Note
Annie was glad that Claire had called her birth mother by name. “And I have a manuscript to write.”
Claire waved a hand as if that were inconsequential. Trish had once said that today people often had the misconception that book writing was as easy as composing an email or a text. “But I have a question,” Claire continued. “If this guy, Larry, really is a mucky-muck in Boston politics—and I think an assistant district attorney is a political appointment—he can probably pull a few strings. Am I right about that?”
“Probably.” Annie didn’t add that she’d thought of that a million times.
“Why not ask him? Years have passed, Annie. If he’s any kind of a decent man, he might feel bad about what Mark did to you. He might even feel guilty because maybe he didn’t tell you everything he knew. Call me crazy, but it seems like you have nothing to lose. Not even pride. Because you’ve really made something of yourself.” Claire paused, then said, “It’s hard to believe you married someone like that guy Mark.”
“It wasn’t my finest moment. Or ten years of moments.”
“I’ve always believed there’s a bit of a dark side in all of us. It’s called being human.”
“Thanks, Claire. I can’t tell you how often—before and after he left—I wondered why I’d married him, too. But it isn’t pride that’s stopping me from contacting Larry. The truth is, I don’t want him to know anything about me. Not where I live. Not what I’m doing. And not what my life’s been like since Mark left. I just don’t. Because it’s not his business.”
Claire laughed again. “You might have thought of those things before you wrote best sellers under your real name. And I believe your picture is right there with that book jacket bio. Not to mention what’s on the internet.”
“I wasn’t a best-selling author when I started writing.”
“Touché. But what are you afraid of? That he’s still in touch with Mark?”
Annie shifted in the chair. “Probably. Yes.”
“Well, no matter what, there’s a strong possibility they both already know damn well where you live and what you do. But if you can get the Inn going as soon as possible, well, sometimes it’s worth taking a risk to achieve a greater good.”