Page 48 of Promise Me Never

“I should be asking you that,” he answered. “I’m so glad I went to that conference. You know, Marion practically had to drag me there. But it was fate. Otherwise, I’d never have met you.”

Fate, Savannah thought. For once it was on her side.

She thought of Derek again. How he had made her promises, then broken them without a second thought. It wasn’t her fault what happened after. She had a right to call him. To text him demanding an explanation for his sudden change of heart. She couldn’t seem to stop herself from driving by his apartment to see if he’d already replaced her. It was only when he got a restraining order that she finally backed off, realizing that no matter what she said or did, he wasn’t coming back.

But things had worked out for her. Bennett was ten times the man Derek was. And Derek was now drowning in mediocrity. His last book deal was two years ago and the sales pathetic. She was the one on top now.

| Forty-One |

Before—Poppy

For a writer, Bennett didn’t use his imagination very well in hiding the key to his office. It was in the most clichéd place you could imagine, and it took me less than fifteen minutes to find it in his underwear drawer. I didn’t want to risk using it while he was home, even if he was fast asleep, so I had already done my research ahead of time. I bought a putty kit to make an impression of the key. The next day, I drove a few towns over to a locksmith, explaining that I was making a novelty craft piece using an impression of a broken key from my childhood home. I’m not sure he bought my story, but he made me the key, nonetheless.

I plan to use it today when Bennett goes into the city to meet with his agent. We’re leaving late this afternoon to spend the Labor Day weekend at the Hamptons house. It’s the first time we’re taking the boat out all summer. Bennett’s been swamped trying to get his book finished and it’s been okay with me. I don’t really like the boat, or the house in the Hamptons. I don’t tell him that, of course. Who wouldn’t like a fifty-five-foot yacht with top-of-the-line amenities? Maybe if I had learned to swim, I wouldn’t be such a nervous wreck on the boat. But I’m too embarrassed to tell him that I can’t swim. I don’t even go in our pool. When we’re in the Hamptons he always wants to go to the beach. The ocean terrifies me. But he says he’s never missed a Labor Day there, so there was no way to get out of it. I made a promise to myself that before next summer I’ll take swimming lessons.

I waited until he was gone for ten minutes before heading toward his office. My heart was beating so hard that I had to stop, take a deep breath, and tell myself to calm down. I stood in front of the door, exhaled again, and put the key in. It didn’t slide in easily and I wiggled it to try to make it fit. I stopped. What if it broke off in the door? I gently turned it again. Click. The door opened.

| Forty-Two |

Savannah

Bennett had left early that morning and the house already felt empty. Felicia was due to arrive any moment and Savannah put the kettle on, determined to get on her good side. She looked at Finn.

“We’ll go for our walk in a little bit.”

His tail wagged and he sat up expectantly. She shouldn’t have used the W-word.

“Not yet, sweetie.”

After a few moments he lay back down, looking dejected. The door opened and a burst of wind came in.

“It’s bloody freezing!” Felicia said, shutting the door and shivering.

“Cup of tea?” Savannah asked.

“Maybe later, got to get a move on. Lots to do.”

“Please? Bennett’s away, and the house is so empty. I’d really love to get to know you a little better.”

“Well, I suppose a quick cup would be okay.”

“Great!”

Savannah prepared some Earl Grey for each of them and set out some cream and sugar. She’d baked sugar cookies last night and put them on a plate on the kitchen table.

They sat across from each other. Felicia added cream to her tea.

“Please, try a cookie,” Savannah said.

“Don’t mind if I do.” She took one from the plate and bit into it. “Did you bake these?”

“Yes. I’m not much of a cook, but I do like to bake.”

“Delicious.” She took a sip of her tea and nodded approvingly. “Must be hard being newlyweds and he had to leave so soon.”

“It is. I wouldn’t have minded going, but he said he’s got too much writing to do.”

Felicia shook her head. “Works too much, that one. I’m always trying to get him to relax more. Maybe you’ll have more luck.”