But they didn’t.
Her gaze drifted across the room. She’d promised herself she wouldn’t look. Truth was, she just couldn’t help it.
The sob stopped at her throat, choking her. Waking up to this view every morning had been the thing of a girl’s dreams. Walking out every morning, onto a sun-drenched deck with the smell of ocean in the air had made this place feel even more perfect.
But what made this place really perfect had been Colt. Colt kissing her. Colt wrapping his arms around her. Laughing with him in the evenings sitting out on the deck drinking cocktails.
This had all been a fairy tale. And every adult knew that fairy tales didn’t come true.
No matter how hard you wished for them.
The truth was Colt had never really wanted her here. He’d felt obligated to her. Nothing more. Nothing less.
This was for the best. She had to go. It was better for her. It was better for Colt.
She was already reading too much into this relationship, placing more value on it than it deserved. And judging from the horrible sensation tightening across her chest she was already too hurt by it all.
She took one last look.
One final lingering gaze over the house where she’d created so many precious moments with Colt, before picking up her bags, lifting the whole lot of clothes—still on hangers—and running down the stairs.
Should she leave a note? No. She couldn’t. Colt’s hesitation had almost killed her. It didn’t matter how she felt about him, it was obvious he didn’t feel the same way. He didn’t trust her, and that hurt more than anything.
No. She couldn’t spend another second in here.
“Okay?” Jon growled as she climbed into the car. He looked at her expectantly, waiting for a signal of where to go. But where could she go? She had no money. No plan. She had no idea where she was going to go.
Her breath stuttered, her heart thumping.
His phone rang and he answered it, before smiling and handing it to Selena. “It’s for you.”
She couldn’t move, her hands frozen. A feeling of expectation rose in her chest. He rested his hand on her shoulder reassuringly. “It’s Lucille, from the clinic. She’s wondering if you need somewhere to bunk down tonight.”
The relief was instant. One month ago, she hadn’t known these people. But now, they were her friends. Willing to stick their necks out and be in her corner.
With shaking hands, she took the phone from Jon. “Hi, Lucille, it’s Selena. Thanks. Thanks for calling.”
“Honey, why didn’t you talk to me? Do you need somewhere to stay?”
The words almost choked her. “Yes, yes, I do.”
“No problem. Here’s my address.” Lucille gave her the address, which Selena relayed to Jon. “You can tell me all about it when I get home.”
And as Jon pulled the car out of Malibu, a tear trickled down her cheek.
Today was the first day of her new life. The last few weeks had been a practice run, and she’d learned a lot about herself.
With Lucille’s help, she’d taken responsibility for her spending, working out a plan for how she could pay Mark back what she owed. Her time at the clinic had actually increased her confidence in her abilities, no matter how low she felt right now.
Once she’d looked at the accounts Helen Ridgeway wouldn’t be able to deny the figures, or what they meant. It didn’t matter that she wouldn’t get the recognition or credit for the work that she’d done. Something had been lit inside her. She could do a good job. She could. The last few months working at the coffee shop had almost made her believe that was all she was capable of.
But that wasn’t true, and the clinic had proved it to her.
Now she had a plan. A plan for the future. One that wouldn’t include Colt.
His reaction had devastated her. Why hadn’t he defended her straightaway? The very thought that he’d considered—even for a second—that she might have sold patient information to the press horrified her.
She could never do anything like that. If he’d known her at all, he would have leapt to her defense. But he hadn’t. And she had to accept that.
It was time to move on, no matter how much it hurt. Colt Travers was going to be part of her past, not part of her future.
She’d applied for an array of new jobs where she could use her skills and newfound confidence. She had somewhere to stay. And more importantly she had friends she could count on. She could get back on her feet. Find a new job and settle her debts. Pay Mark back some of the money she owed him.
She smiled. The thought of doing that made her feel good.
She straightened her back in the seat and looked out at the gorgeous coastline.
She could do this. She really could.
The only person she had to believe in right now was herself.
…
On days like this Colt wished he’d bought the sports car people had expected him to. Somehow the monster truck wasn’t dodging through the traffic the way he wanted it to. The thirty-minute journey seemed to be taking hours.
Selena hadn’t been in the clinic, and no one would admit to knowing where she’d gone. He’d checked all the cottages, but there was no sign of her there, either. Where could she go? She had no car. No other means of transport. As a last-ditch attempt he was hoping she’d made her way back to his home in Malibu.
No, he was praying she was back in Malibu. Because, other than that, he didn’t have a single clue where she would have gone.
And he really needed to see her right now.
He’d never told her. Never told her how she’d gotten under his skin. How he liked waking up to her smile in the morning. How he’d gotten used to the mess she made in his kitchen. How he liked having someone to share his life with. More than anything though, he had to tell her that he’d been wrong to hesitate. He did trust her. He wanted to tell the world he trusted her. He just had to tell Selena first.
He pulled up outside the house and ran up the steps. He flung the door open. “Selena? Selena, where are you?”
Silence.
The kitchen was the same as they’d left it that morning. No evidence she’d been there. The doors to the deck were still closed.
He panicked, his skin prickling and his heart clamoring in his chest. A sensation he certainly wasn’t used to. Nothing panicked him. Nothing. Not even the worst complications of surgery. Because, at the end of the day he still had control over the situation.
This was totally different. This, he had no control over.
He thudded up the stairs, and his breath caught in his throat. The closet doors were open. Empty. Her pristine clothes were gone. Her shoes were no longer scattered over the bedroom floor.
The dresser drawers were half-open, bereft of their contents.
He walked into the bathroom, half hoping there might still be some sign of her. Some little piece of her remaining. But nothing. Every trace of her had vanished.
Almost as if she’d never been there at all.
Colt looked around at his home. The home th
at he’d always loved. And never wanted to share with anyone before. It felt empty. It felt vacant.
Just like his heart.
And without Selena, it could never feel the same again.
Chapter Thirteen
The receptionist shouted through to the back rooms, “Phone call for Ms. Selena Harris.”
“What?” Colt jerked his head up at the sound of her name.
It had been one week since Selena walked out of his life. And no matter where he went, or who he asked, he hadn’t been able to find a trace of her.
He’d spent the last week running himself ragged trying to find her. For the first time in forever, Seacliffe and Helen’s House weren’t his priorities. He only had one goal right now: to find Selena.
He’d been walking through the waiting room when he’d heard the receptionist speak. “I’ll take it.” He grabbed the phone. “Who’s calling?”
A woman on the phone cleared her throat. “You don’t sound like a Selena to me,” she quipped.
Colt sighed. “I’m sorry. Selena isn’t available right now. I’m Colt Travers. Can I take a message for her, please?” Part of his brain was hoping that this person would be able to give him a clue where she was.
“I’d really prefer to speak Ms. Harris myself. It’s regarding an interview.”
An interview? Selena would be over the moon. All those hours she’d spent tweaking her résumé must have worked.
“That’s no problem,” he said smoothly. “If you give me the details, I’ll make sure she gets them.”
“Sorry for the short notice. This is Melissa from Bertram and Bain. The interview is in two days’ time at our main office. 11:00 a.m. Will Ms. Harris be able to attend?”
He scribbled furiously on a piece of paper. Date, time, address, and who to report to. “Absolutely. You can count on it.” He thanked Melissa and replaced the phone. Bertram and Bain were wildly successful. They handled extensive marketing accounts across LA. Selena would fit in perfectly.
If only she knew.
Someone in here must know where she had gone. And he was more determined than ever to find out.