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Back When We Were Bright and Beautiful Save as PDF
Chapters (72)
  1. Cover
  2. Dedication
  3. Epigraph
  4. Part One
  5. 1
  6. 2
  7. 3
  8. 4
  9. 5
  10. 6
  11. 7
  12. 8
  13. 9
  14. 10
  15. 11
  16. 12
  17. 13
  18. 14
  19. 15
  20. 16
  21. 17
  22. 18
  23. 19
  24. Part Two
  25. 20
  26. 21
  27. 22
  28. 23
  29. 24
  30. 25
  31. 26
  32. 27
  33. 28
  34. 29
  35. 30
  36. 31
  37. 32
  38. 33
  39. 34
  40. 35
  41. 36
  42. Part Three
  43. 37
  44. 38
  45. 39
  46. 40
  47. 41
  48. 42
  49. 43
  50. 44
  51. 45
  52. 46
  53. 47
  54. 48
  55. 49
  56. 50
  57. 51
  58. 52
  59. 53
  60. 54
  61. 55
  62. 56
  63. 57
  64. 58
  65. 59
  66. 60
  67. Epilogue
  68. Author’s Note
  69. Acknowledgments
  70. About the Author
  71. Also by Jillian Medoff
  72. About the Publisher

Regardless, regardless, regardless. The way he repeats himself drives me up the wall. It’s always like this: I miss Lawrence terribly and feel guilty when I’m away, but after five minutes with him, I feel trapped, anxious to flee. My phone dings. It’s Nate, texting: there in fifteen.

A thought occurs to me. “Where is Eleanor anyway?”

“Mobilizing a private militia, of course. Right now, she’s having breakfast with Burt and his partners. She’s talking to lawyers, judges, anyone who can get Billy home. By noon, she’ll have the US Attorney holding a press conference.”

“You still haven’t convinced me why I can’t go with you.”

“I’m concerned about Billy.” His voice breaks. “He’ll be fine. Of course, he will. But the girl is refusing to back down. As is the DA. He wants to make an example of Billy for reasons that aren’t entirely clear. So I have to stop this today—before your brother gets further embroiled. And before the press hears about it.” He’s interrupted by his phone; a ring so loud we both jump. “It’s Eleanor.” He clears his throat then calls out an upbeat “Hey, hey, honey!”

The change in him is instantaneous, like he stepped through a screen and emerged triumphant. “Everything’s moving along great. Yes, Eleanor. Of course, you’re upset. I’m upset too. But I promise, it will be fine . . . Yeah. I am. Leaving in a minute.” Glancing at me, he points to the phone, mouths sorry.

“I’m going with you.” My own voice is forbidding; I dare him to say no.

“Of course!” He waves, still talking to Eleanor. “Sounds good!” Then he heads out of my bedroom and into the hall, walking and talking, filling the air with glad tidings and cheer.

6

WHEN I STEP OUTSIDE A FEW MINUTES LATER, THE SUN IS shining, but it’s windy. Lawrence’s Mercedes idles in the driveway, and I expect to see him behind the wheel, but he’s standing under the heated porte cochère, his back turned to me, presumably still on the phone with Eleanor.

“Did you sleep here?” I ask Anton as he escorts me to the waiting car. “Aren’t there rules about working too many hours?”

“Yes, there are many rules.” He pats my shoulder. “But I appreciate your concern for my welfare.”

We both watch Lawrence approach, finally phone-free. He’s wearing a ski jacket and thick wool cap. I’m shivering in my light tweed blazer. For a second, I consider going back upstairs for a heavier coat, but don’t move. “We’re driving to New Jersey,” I tell Anton.

“So I hear.” He starts to open the driver’s side door, but Lawrence is already there. “Got it, thanks,” he calls out, waving dismissively as he slides into the front seat. “Let’s go, Cassie.”

“How did you hear?” I ask Anton quietly.