I frown. “Well. That sucks. Not part of my plan.”

  Dev smiles. “You got lucky. You escaped with just a concussion, some bruised ribs, and a broken nose. Your passenger didn’t do so well.”

  I search my memory for a passenger, but I’m coming up blank. I almost ask if my kids were passengers, but I know that’s not right. I wasn’t with my kids in the car when this happened. So, who was I with?

  “Passenger?”

  Dev and May exchange glances. The silence between us stretches.

  Then a flash of memory hits me. This has something to do with Little Miss Kickass. “Is Toni okay?”

  “Why do you ask?” May says.

  My memory is full of holes, but I remember a few things. I frown, trying to bring the details in stronger. “There was a man . . . he was asking about Toni.”

  My sister looks at Dev. “I think she deserves to know what happened.”

  “I agree,” he says, shrugging. “Do you want to tell her or should I?”

  May looks down at me with her most tender expression. “Do you remember coming to work on Monday?”

  “Monday? Yeah, sure. Today is Monday, isn’t it?”

  “No,” she shakes her head, “it’s Wednesday. You’ve been kind of out of it for a couple of days.”

  “Coma?” I say with hushed awe. I am so in a movie right now.

  She smiles. “No. Drugs.”

  I don’t know why that disappoints me. Maybe because telling a story about falling into a coma is a lot more interesting than telling a story about being so drugged up on pharmaceuticals you can’t remember anything for two whole days. I went from hero to zero, just like that. Boo.

  “What happened?” I ask, not even sure I want to hear the story now.

  “You came to work early on Monday, and there was a not-very-nice guy waiting there for Toni. But when he saw you, I guess he decided he was going to try to get some information out of you to help him find her.”

  “Why was he waiting for Toni?”

  May’s mouth twists up for a couple seconds before she finally answers. “He’s the brother of a man she killed. In self-defense. Mostly self-defense, anyway. He was out for revenge.”

  My eyes nearly fall out of my head. “Killed? Seriously?” I look at Dev for confirmation. He nods and then leans in.

  “He’s the same person who put a big dent in the door on your first day. Do you remember that?”

  I look at him and smile. “How could I forget? You falsely imprisoned me in your lame-ass, Hotel California panic room for, like, hours and hours.”

  He glances up at May. “I don’t think she’s remembering things correctly. I think that head injury has done some permanent damage.”

  I try to reach up to poke him, but my vision isn’t the greatest right now. His beautiful face blurs and dances away.

  He takes my hand and kisses my fingers, bringing his face back into focus. “No hitting,” he says. “There’ll be no more violence in your life. I’m putting an end to it today.”

  I pull my hand away. “What does that mean?”

  May steps into the conversation. “We can talk about it later.”

  Dev shakes his head. “No. It’s already decided. She’s not coming back.”

  I glare at him. “Are you trying to tell me I’m not working at Bourbon Street Boys anymore?” I look over at my sister. “Can he do that? Can he fire me?” Panic starts to grow. Fired? Again? But what about the team? And Ozzie? And Little Miss Kickass who needs to tell me the story about how she killed someone? And Thibault and Lucky and his goldfish, Sunny? I feel like I’m losing my whole family in one fell swoop.

  She shakes her head. “No, he can’t fire you, and I don’t think that’s what he’s trying to do anyway.” She glares at Dev and then raises her eyebrows and nods. She’s encouraging him to do something, but I don’t know what.

  I turn my attention to Dev. “What’s going on?”

  He sighs and looks down at the bed. Then he lifts his head and locks eyes with me. “You were worried about working with us because of the risks involved. On your first day, you got locked in the panic room. In your second week, you were taken hostage outside the front door. It seems like you’re always in the wrong place at just the right time. I don’t think I can handle the stress. I’ve been seriously worried about you.”

  I can’t help but smile. He is so sweet. And so adorable, thinking he can boss me around like that. I reach up and stroke his cheek. “You are so cute. But you have a lot to learn about women.”

  My sister points at me. “This woman in particular.” She drops her voice to a whisper, but she’s still really loud. “Stubborn.”

  I ignore her. “I know that I’ve had some seriously bad luck coming to the warehouse, but that doesn’t mean that I don’t want to work with you guys anymore. I used to be afraid, but I’m not anymore. It just means maybe that I should do my work from home. I think being at the warehouse brings a certain element of risk to it, which I’d like to avoid. So if you guys want to meet with me, I can use Skype.” I take Dev’s hand and hold it firmly, so he’ll know how determined I am about this. “It’s simple. I love the work, I love being a part of the team, and I’m not going anywhere.” I look at my sister. “Unless Ozzie doesn’t want me to work there anymore. I know I can’t force anyone to hire me.”

  May pats my leg. “Don’t you worry about Ozzie. He thinks you’re amazing. He wants you to stay, but of course he’ll understand no matter what your decision is.”

  I look at Dev. He seems angry, and I really want him to understand, so that he won’t be mad at me anymore. I crook my finger at him. “Come closer.”

  He leans in.

  “I’m getting tired, so before I fall sleep, I just want you to know that when I got locked in that panic room with you, I was mad. But that anger only lasted for about two minutes. Because after that, I started to get to know you. And I realized how much fun you are, and how smart you are, and how much I like spending time with you. Please don’t be mad that I want to spend as much time with you as I can.”

  “Are you trying to tell me that you enjoyed your false imprisonment?” Some of the worry lines have left his face and his dimple is starting to make an appearance.

  “Yes. I am saying that now. However . . . I am high on drugs, and therefore, you cannot use these words against me in the future.”

  He leans in and kisses me very tenderly on the lips. I try not to wince too much when he accidentally bumps my nose.

  “You get better, and then we’ll talk.”

  “Yes, we will.” I look up at my sister. “How awful is my nose?”

  “Wellll . . . you know that bump that you never liked?” She’s referring to the bridge of my nose, the one thing about my face that I could never appreciate no matter how many times May told me it gave my face character.

  “Yes?”

  “It’s gone. When the plastic surgeon went in there to fix you up, he couldn’t save it.”

  I can’t stop smiling. “Talk about being in the wrong place at the right time.” I look over at Dev. “Look at me. I’m beautiful now.”

  “You were always beautiful to me, from the first time I laid eyes on you. You’re the prettiest girl I’ve ever known.”

  “I’m going to give you guys some alone time,” my sister says. She walks out of the room and her footsteps fade in the distance.

  I look at the man hovering over me and smile. “Thanks for visiting me. How are my kids? How’s Jacob?”

  “Everybody’s fine. Miles has your kids, and he’s being very cool about it. We’ve reached an understanding.”

  My eyebrows go up at that. “You have? Do tell.”

  Dev shrugs. “I just gave him the straight scoop. He has my phone number. Anytime he has a problem, he knows he can call me, day or night. Your kids were at my house last night. They had a sleepover with Jacob.”

  I grab Dev’s hand. “Did it go okay?” I’m so sad I missed that event. I’m also worri
ed that I wasn’t there to referee. My kids need that more often than I’d like to admit.

  He pats my hand. “It went perfect. It was Jacob’s first sleepover, and he could not stop talking about it after your kids left. Everything’s going to be fine. Everything.”

  When he says everything like that, I know exactly what he means. He’s not just talking about my concussion or my broken nose, or this weird situation with the Bourbon Street Boys, or with us or our kids. He means everything. Our world. The one we’re creating together. It’s going to be just fine. There’s just one more thing I need to clear up.

  “I need to talk to Miles,” I say, attempting to sit up.

  Dev gently pushes on my shoulder. “Just relax. There’s plenty of time.”

  “No, I need to do it now.” I hold out my hand. “Can I borrow your phone?”

  Dev hands me his cell without another word.

  I dial Miles’s number and start speaking as soon as he answers. “Hi, it’s me.”

  “Jenny? Hey. How are you feeling?”

  “Fine. Thanks for asking. Listen, we need to talk.”

  “About what?”

  “Just . . . listen. Okay?” I take a big breath and let it out slowly before continuing. “About the other night, when you broke in to the house . . .”

  “Yeah, I . . .”

  “You can’t do that anymore. Ever. It’s my house and the things inside it are mine, and that’s the end of the story.”

  “I know. I get it. I was just . . . acting stupid.” He sounds ashamed, which makes me happy.

  “Good. I’m glad you’re admitting that. Anyway, I also wanted to say that I think you need to do a better job of being a father to our kids.”

  He doesn’t respond, so I keep on going. I’m on a roll and I can’t chicken out. These things need to be said, for our children if not for my sanity. “All these weekends you either skip or cut short—it has to stop. You’re hurting the kids and you’re going to ruin your relationship with them. They need their father.”

  “You have a new boyfriend.” He sounds surly now. Hurt, maybe. That’s good. I can work with that.

  “So what? He’s not their father and you shouldn’t expect him to be.”

  “No, I don’t. I didn’t mean that. I’m just . . .” He hisses out a sigh of frustration. “I’m just a little messed up right now. I’m not happy.” He lowers his voice. “I’m regretting some of the decisions I made.”

  I want to stand up and cheer. “I’m not surprised. You’ve made some pretty terrible ones.” Like breaking my heart, for one. But now I’m kind of glad he did that, because if he hadn’t, I wouldn’t have this tall, beautiful man and his adorable son in my life. I reach out and put my hand on Dev’s arm. He covers my fingers with his.

  “Can I ask you a crazy question?” Miles says.

  “Sure.”

  “Do you think you’d ever want to get back together with me? Hypothetically speaking, that is.”

  “No.” I say this with a firmness in my heart, mind, and soul. “Never. We were a bad match, Miles. We make beautiful babies together, but we create way too much misery when we stay in the same room for too long. I like how things are right now, with the caveat that you are going to step up to the plate.”

  “Step up to the plate, huh?”

  “Yes. Attend birthday parties. Take the kids on alternate holidays. Keep them for the full weekend. Feed them like a parent, not a teenager. Candy is not one of the four food groups.”

  He laughs softly. “I was getting kind of tired of the stomachaches.” He pauses. “But . . .” He doesn’t finish.

  “But what?” I ask.

  “It’s stupid. Never mind.”

  “No, nothing is stupid when it concerns our kids. What? Tell me.”

  “What if they don’t like me? What if I tell them no more candy and no more trips to the pizza place, and they tell me they don’t want to hang out with me anymore?”

  “Miles, you have to stop trying to be their friend and start being their father. They have enough friends, but only one dad. They love you. They want to just be with you. You don’t have to be a Disneyland dad. Just be yourself.” He may be a prick for a husband, but he’s a decent person when he makes the effort. I never would have married him otherwise.

  There’s a long silence before he speaks again. “Thanks for calling. I’m glad you’re okay. You had me worried. I visited, but you were completely out of it. It made me think about . . . well, let’s just say it wasn’t anything good and leave it at that.”

  “You’re welcome.” I glance at Dev and he nods. “But don’t worry, I’m fine. When are you coming to get the kids?”

  “This weekend. I’ll be keeping them through Sunday at eight.”

  “Great. Thanks. See you.”

  “Yeah. See you. And for the record, I’m glad you’re happy. Dev seems like a nice guy.”

  I can’t stop smiling. “Yeah. He’s pretty great.”

  Dev points to himself and I nod, shutting the call down.

  We stare at each other for a long while. I’m beyond thrilled to know this man is an official part of my life, but a little piece of me can’t help but worry at all this happiness. Is it just a passing phase? Will he turn out to be a jerk, like Miles did?

  “Who knows how long this will last?” I say in a whisper.

  Dev shrugs. “There’s no way for either of us to see into the future. There are no guarantees. But if we don’t take this chance and the risk that goes along with it, we’ll never find out how good it could be between us.”

  “I’m glad you locked me in the panic room and couldn’t let me out. I consider it a blessing that you stink at remembering the door combination. That you forgot to use the right code.”

  He leans in really close, kisses me lightly on the lips, and says, “Who says I forgot anything?” He smiles and his dimple sinks in as he relishes his win over me.

  It’s then that everything comes into very clear focus for me, even though I have enough morphine in my system to fell a smallish rhino. I know in my heart that Dev is the guy for me. That day that I met him? I was in the wrong place, maybe . . . but it was definitely at the right time.

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Elle Casey, a former attorney and teacher, is a New York Times and USA Today bestselling American author who lives in France with her husband, three kids, and a number of furry friends. She has written books in several genres and publishes an average of one full-length novel per month.

 


 

  Elle Casey, Wrong Place, Right Time

 


 

 
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