Authors: Tracey Garvis Graves
“It’s a lot to consider,” she said.
“I understand. Well, if you’ll excuse me, I’m in the middle of the rather delicate process of sorting out an insurance claim on a seven-million-dollar car owned by a man who’s not actually dead. The red tape is ridiculous.”
Kate nearly dropped her coffee cup, and it clattered onto its saucer. “The Shelby was real?”
“Oh,” Phillip said, looking alarmed. “I thought you knew.”
“I assumed it was a replica. I didn’t know his company brought in that kind of money.”
“His company was extremely profitable, but Ian’s also very technically gifted. I don’t know of many hackers who can code like he can. When he was in college, he did a lot of the early programming for a social network start-up. There may be a bit of rivalry between MIT and Harvard, but if I told you the names of some of his friends, you’d recognize them. Those Cambridge boys don’t mind helping each other out. But Ian had no interest in being a part of someone else’s company, so he accepted a small stake in lieu of any named credit or involvement. That company went on to be worth billions.”
“I told him once that he used his money to excuse his behavior. He agreed and said there weren’t many problems his money couldn’t solve.”
Phillip smiled, looking thoughtful. “I think he might have been wrong about that, Kate.”
Kate cleared the coffee cups from the table and took them into the kitchen. Susan was unpacking her seeds and bulbs.
“Did you find everything you needed at the garden center?” Kate asked.
“Yes. It’s a little early yet, but I’m really looking forward to planting everything.”
“Do you know where Ian is?”
“I think he’s out front.”
She found him on the porch. “Hi,” she said, sitting down in the empty chair next to him.
“Hi.”
“That was nice of you to help Susan.”
He smiled. “It’s nothing compared to when she’ll want me to unload an SUV full of forty-pound bags of dirt. That’ll be next.”
“Phillip said the plane will be ready to take me home soon.”
“Okay.”
“It’s not… it’s not your plane, is it?”
“No. But I paid the charter fee. The FBI puts up with a lot from me, but I don’t expect them to fly in my girlfriend.”
He reached for her hand. “Right before you came out here, I was thinking about when I saw you on TV. I told you that the Shelby had broken down, and when I went to pick her up, I was waiting in the lobby of this repair shop. They had a TV mounted in the corner. I was looking right at it when you started talking, and there was something about you that absolutely captivated me. The first thing I noticed was how beautiful you were, and the second was that you seemed so down-to-earth and so real. You were asking for money, but not for yourself. I wanted to know if your passion was genuine and if you were really as kind as you appeared. When I got back to the hotel I was staying at until I could move into my apartment, I pulled up the clip online and watched it an embarrassing number of times. When I was in Canada, I’d started feeling something that I thought was restlessness, like I wanted to get away. But after seeing you on TV, I realized that what I was feeling wasn’t restlessness at all. It was loneliness. I don’t remember ever feeling that way in my twenties, so maybe it was because I was getting older. I wondered how it would feel to have a girl like you by my side. Someone who was beautiful and selfless and wanted to help people the way I did. I thought maybe if I met you in person I’d feel differently. Maybe you’d be dull or standoffish or even rude. But then you came crashing into me on that sidewalk and you were none of those things. I told myself, ‘Do not drag her into your fucked-up world,’ and then I did it anyway. I pushed every limit you had, and every time you gave me an inch I turned around and took a mile because I knew there weren’t very many women out there who would be able to handle me. But you could. And even after all that you still saw the good in me. And you still wanted to be with me. You made it so damn easy for me to love you, and just as easy for me to like you. You just kept doing everything right.” He turned to look at her. “Have you stopped loving me?” His voice was low and raw.
“No.” She looked into his eyes as the tears ran down her face. “But maybe I’m not cut out for this after all,” she whispered.
“Maybe you’re not.” His eyes were dry, but she had never seen such sadness in them.
Phillip opened the door and stepped onto the porch. “I’m sorry to interrupt, but we’d better get going.”
At the airport, when the three of them got out of the car, Phillip turned to her and said, “Please be aware of your surroundings at home, Kate. If they’re still watching and you’re seen smiling or laughing, it could undo everything we’ve done.”
Kate didn’t think she’d be doing much of either, but she said, “I’ll be careful.”
Phillip nodded and then reached out and shook her hand before getting back into the car.
Ian walked Kate onto the tarmac, and they stopped at the foot of the stairs. He pulled a phone from the pocket of his jeans and handed it to her. “If there’s anything you need or anything I can do, I want you to call me. Okay?”
Kate nodded and slid the phone into her bag. She glanced toward the plane, feeling foolish that they were waiting on her.
“Don’t be afraid,” Ian said. “Don and the other agents are still going to be watching you.”
Kate blinked back the tears that were already filling her eyes. She wished they could go back in time to when things weren’t quite so complicated. Kate could argue that this wasn’t what she’d signed up for, but that would be a lie. Everything Ian had done was faithful to his nature, whether it was hacking her computer, walking in on her in the bathroom, or faking his own death.
You know that saying, “Act now, apologize later?” I’m pretty much the poster boy.
He pulled her close and held her tight. “I love you. I will never stop loving you.”
“I love you too.”
“Don’t go.” He whispered it quietly but fiercely into her hair.
“I have to. I need some time to think. To figure things out.” She kissed him one last time, and then she did leave, her legs heavy as stone as she walked up the staircase and disappeared into the plane.
She took a cab home from the airport, making sure to ask the driver to drop her off three blocks away. Kate didn’t know if they were still watching her, and she could barely handle the thought of someone observing her every move as she navigated the streets of her neighborhood.
After taking a hot bath, she crawled into bed with the phone he’d given her. She clicked on the unnamed plain blue app and selected Ian’s Phone. It showed Phillip’s address, and Kate wondered if Ian was with them or if he was down in the guesthouse, thinking about her the way she was thinking about him.
She fell asleep that night with the phone in her hand. And the next morning, her first thought upon awakening was a jubilant
He’s alive
and her second was
I miss him so much.
On her walk to work
,
every man wearing a suit was an FBI agent; everyone else was a hacker.
That afternoon, Kate booked an airline ticket to Indiana after making sure that Helena didn’t mind covering for her again. Her parents—especially her mother—deserved to know the truth about Ian, but Kate decided it was the kind of news that should be shared in person.
“I’m sorry,” Kate said. “My mom really wants to see for herself that I’m doing okay. She’s spent so much time here already, I feel like it’s my turn to go home.”
“Of course,” Helena said. “When are you leaving?”
“Friday after we close. I’ll be back late Monday.”
Helena put her arm around Kate. “Are you okay? You’ve been really quiet today.”
“I’m fine. I just have a lot on my mind and didn’t sleep well last night.”
For the next few days, Kate went through the motions as if she were on autopilot, similar to the way she had after Ian died. But when she took a shower in the morning, she couldn’t stop thinking about how they’d always showered together. When she picked up dinner, she automatically recalled what Ian would have ordered. The absence of his hand holding hers felt like phantom pain. Sleeping on her side without his arm around her made her feel sad and hollow.
You could be doing all those things with him again
, she thought.
Because he is alive
.
She was responding to e-mails shortly before closing time on Thursday afternoon when Zach Nielsen stopped by her desk. It was not uncommon for Kate’s clients to visit for a while after they’d filled their box with food, and they’d tell her what a difference she was making for them and their families. Kate thought of Zach often and hoped his younger brother was doing okay and getting enough to eat.
“Hi,” he said.
“Hi, Zach. How are things going?”
He sat down on the edge of her desk. “They’re going great. I got on full-time at the warehouse. I may not even need the pantry next month. I think I can buy enough food for all of us with my paycheck.”
Though she was feeling pretty low
,
she forced herself to smile. “That’s wonderful.”
“How are things with you?” he asked. “I hope you don’t mind my saying something, but last time I was here you seemed a little, I don’t know, sad maybe?”
She hated that he’d noticed how upset she’d been on his last visit and doubted he was the only one of her clients who had. Kate probably didn’t look much better this time around because her last good night of sleep had been in Phillip and Susan’s guesthouse with Ian. Her bed felt cavernous without him in it, and she lay awake for hours thinking of him.
“I was going through a very rough patch personally. I’m sorry if I appeared unprofessional.” Feeling the warmth on her cheeks, she bent her head, gathering the papers that were lying on her desk and organizing them into a neat pile.
“No, it’s fine. I was just wondering if things were better now.”
When she looked up to answer him, she noticed his eyes were a little red, as if he were tired.
And his hair was on the longer side.
He’d asked for her by name the first time he’d come in, saying he’d been referred by a friend. But he’d never mentioned the name of the person.
She held his gaze just long enough for her eyes to fill with tears, and then she glanced away. “Not yet. Maybe someday they will be. At least I hope so.” She pulled a Kleenex from the top drawer of her desk and dabbed at her eyes. “Do you have your ID with you today, Zach?”
He took one hand off his box of food and patted his pocket, and her eyes tracked his movement. A brace peeked out from the cuff of Zach’s shirt. It was the same type of brace Ian sometimes wore when his wrists became sore from spending too much time on the computer. “Left it at home again. Sorry.”
“That’s okay,” she said. “Just make sure to bring it next time.”
“I will.” He rose, hoisting the box a little higher in his arms. “I’ll see you next month. Unless I don’t need to come in.”
“Take care.”
“Thanks. You too.”
As soon as he left, she walked to the file cabinet and retrieved Zach’s intake form. She called the phone number he’d given her during the intake interview, but it wasn’t a valid number. When she put his address into Google Maps, nothing came up.
She told herself she was being paranoid. Lots of people had tired, red eyes. Lots of men let their hair grow a bit long. It would not be unusual for someone who worked in a warehouse to wear a wrist brace. New clients
did
ask for her by name, all the time. People didn’t always carry their IDs on them, and occasionally her clients would falsify their personal information.
But a hacker would protect his identity at all costs.
Especially one whose sole reason for visiting the food pantry had been to catch her in a lie.
Kate landed in Chicago at seven, which left her with forty-five minutes to kill before her flight to Indianapolis. The phone Ian had given her pinged as she was walking down the aisle to exit the plane, and seeing his name on the screen filled her with happiness. He’d given her the time and space she needed, which had been wise of him because the longer she’d been home, the more the hurt had faded, and in its place was a feeling of persistent and aching yearning.
Ian:
Cinnabon?
Kate:
Thinking about it.
Ian:
You should.
Kate:
Not the best choice for dinner, but maybe I will.
Ian:
Have some wine too. That’ll make it better.
Kate smiled, weaving her way around the passengers as she walked and typed.
Kate:
Wine makes everything better. : )
Ian:
How are you?
Kate:
I’m okay. How are you?
Ian:
I’ve been better. I miss you so much.
Kate:
I miss you too.
Ian:
Have you been thinking about us?
Kate:
I think about us all the time.
The interaction made her feel good, and she wanted to prolong their conversation. She pictured him sitting on the couch in the guesthouse, typing out a text. After stopping at Cinnabon, she sat down at a nearby table, ignoring her cinnamon roll as she stared at her phone, waiting for him to respond and wondering why it was taking so long. She was so deep in thought that the scrape of a chair being pulled back startled her.
“Here’s what I think,” Ian said, sitting down next to her. “You
are
cut out for this, Kate. You’re smart and you’re fearless. I understand that being with me comes with a unique set of challenges, but I firmly believe we can overcome them.”
Kate stared at him in shock. Even if he’d left the minute he realized she was on her way to the airport, her flight was shorter than his. “How did you…?”
“I figured you’d go home, so I waited for you to book your ticket and made sure to take off an hour before you did. I’m seriously going to pitch my services to American Airlines. They have no idea how much they need me.”