“So, I’ll watch for your text and meet up with you day after tomorrow.”

  “Yes. Good night, Eric.”

  “Good night, Grandmother.”

  Eric wandered through the halls of his large home for quite some time in thought after he hung up with Delinda. The jury was still out on whether inviting her to join him in Vandorra was a good idea, but he was glad he’d suggested it. Regardless of how it turned out, he felt good about how he was moving forward.

  He wished he could share these successes with Sage. He would have loved to call her and tell her about his conversation with Brett and the possible insanity looming ahead of him that week.

  He thought back to the last time he’d seen Sage. Their last kiss had almost been his undoing. He’d wanted nothing more than to slam her door and carry her off to her bedroom. The man he’d been would have done just that. He’d been a selfish bastard, not caring about anyone else’s happiness because he himself had been miserable.

  It was different with Sage. He didn’t want to sleep with her before she knew the truth about him. The problem was, he wanted the truth to be a little bit better before he shared it with her. He didn’t want his confession to be that he was a constant fuckup with no clue how to be any different. He wanted to be able to tell her the worst was over.

  I should have called her today.

  She probably thinks I don’t care, when the truth is the polar opposite.

  I’m falling for a woman who may want nothing to do with me when she discovers who I really am.

  He took out his smartphone and wrote: Hey. He was about to send it when he realized it was the wrong phone. Shit. He deleted the message and took his flip phone out of his pocket.

  He decided to call rather than painstakingly try to input the letters on the older keypad. She picked up on the first ring.

  “Wayne?” she asked breathlessly.

  “It’s me,” he answered in a pathetic attempt not to lie to her more than he had. God, it was good to hear her voice. “I would have called you earlier, but it was a busy day. How was yours?”

  “Confusing. I honestly had no idea if I’d ever hear from you again.”

  “I know I’ve been acting kind of weird, but I’ll explain everything to you soon. Not tonight, though. Not on the phone. Are you free tomorrow?”

  “No,” she said with a touch of defiance in her tone.

  “Are you upset with me?”

  “Yes. Listen, I know you’re dealing with something, but I’m getting really tired of being left standing there wondering what I said or did to make you sprint away. I don’t need another person in my life who makes me feel like nothing I do is right.”

  “You’re not the problem, Sage. You never have been.”

  “Still, I’m busy tomorrow.”

  “Because you actually are or because you don’t want to see me?”

  “I don’t want you to think that you can do and say whatever you want and I’ll just accept it. I waited all day for you to call, and it wasn’t fun. I don’t like the way it made me feel, and I need time to think about if I’m willing to risk feeling that way again.”

  “I’m sorry, Sage. I didn’t mean to hurt you. Leaving when things get difficult is not my finest quality. I won’t do it again. I promise. I wouldn’t blame you if you said you never wanted to see me again, but that’s not what I want.”

  “It’s not what I want, either,” she said. “Do you remember how you said you wanted to be there if I met up with the man I gave my card to in the park? He called. I’m taking him flower shopping day after tomorrow. You could join us if you’d like.”

  “Day after tomorrow? Shit, I wish I could. I have something planned for that day that I can’t get out of. It’s really important or I would cancel it.”

  “What are you doing?”

  Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. “Something with my family that involves travel.”

  “Where to?”

  “How about if I promise to sit down with you and tell you all about it when I come back?”

  “Let me get this straight. You’re going somewhere—you can’t tell me where. To do something—you won’t tell me what. And you want me to be okay with that because you’ll explain it all to me later?”

  “Yes?”

  “No,” she said, and hung up.

  Fuck.

  Wayne called her back, but she silenced her phone. Bella had told her to demand that people treat her better, and Sage was beginning to do just that.

  Wayne, if that really was his name, could either tell her whatever it was he was hiding from her or he could find another woman to frustrate. Just because he had eyes she could get lost in and a body designed to tempt any woman didn’t mean he could do as he pleased.

  The next morning Sage woke up to a bouquet of wildflowers being delivered to her door with a card that simply said, “Call me.”

  “No,” Sage said to the deliveryman as she handed it back to him. “Tell him they were refused.”

  A short time later, her doorbell rang, announcing the delivery of coffee and her favorite pastries from the café where they’d met. It was accompanied by a note saying, “I’m sorry.”

  It was harder to pass them up, but she did. “No,” she said to the delivery person. “Not good enough. Thank you, but no, thank you. Please take them for your coworkers. I hate to see them go to waste.”

  Sage was dressed and ready to walk out the door of her apartment when a third delivery arrived. It was matinee tickets for a show at the theater she’d once asked him to go to with her. What had been the reason he hadn’t been able to go that day? She realized he hadn’t actually told her. He’d avoided answering her questions then, just as he was still doing. She handed the tickets back to the delivery person and simply shook her head.

  Sage filled her day with all the things that made her happy. She walked around London and people-watched. All the while, she told herself she’d done the right thing. Hadn’t Bella said that one of the reasons she worried about her was because Sage was a pleaser? And that I make excuses for people’s bad behavior because I can’t walk away from someone in pain? Well, everyone has their limit, and I’ve reached mine.

  When she returned to her apartment, she read a book and went to sleep early. If he had called that night, she wouldn’t have picked up, but she was still disappointed when no call came.

  Where was he going the next day? What did he feel he couldn’t tell her yet? Did he understand that while he was figuring stuff out, she was slowly going insane?

  Sage wasn’t a conspiracy theorist. She didn’t look for hidden agendas or lies. She preferred to believe that good triumphed if one had faith in it. People were inherently good, even those who didn’t appear to be at first glance. Once they found something that made them happy, they blossomed like flowers in the sun.

  Still, Sage was reluctantly beginning to wonder if Bella’s more cautious view of people didn’t make more sense. There was a very good chance that Wayne Easton was a big, fat liar. Sage didn’t know how big or what his motivation was for not being honest, just that her radar had let her down. It shook her confidence in a process she’d come to trust.

  She had a fitful night of sleep, full of dreams of being trapped in a glass-walled maze. Every decision she made was wrong, every path she chose led her back to where she started, and she could see Wayne on the outside of the maze, mocking her for not being able to find her way out.

  When she woke late the next morning, she wasn’t in a good mood. She showered, dressed, and gulped down a coffee without smiling. She hated that on her first day with Mr. Kirby she felt like she had nothing to give him. She should have been radiant, bouncing with enthusiasm. Instead she was fighting a headache and wondering if she should cancel.

  Her phone rang. For just a heartbeat, she thought it might be Wayne and chastised herself for being disappointed that it wasn’t. “Hi, Dad.”

  “I had an interesting lunch today with one of my investors. He wanted to know if you an
d I speak. I told him of course we do. Then he asked me to talk to you regarding the nature of your business. You don’t run a business, do you, Sage?”

  “I do. I’m a plant psychologist, remember?”

  “Oh my God, I thought that was a joke.”

  “Wow, look at the time. I have to go, Dad.”

  “No, hold on. Whoever you’re working with right now—I want you to call them and tell them you can’t see them anymore.”

  “Why do you care who I’m working with?”

  “I don’t, but some very powerful people do.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “You don’t have to. You just need to tell your . . . What the hell do you call someone you work with?”

  “Clients?”

  “You need to tell whatever clients you have that something has come up and you’ll need to terminate your association with them.”

  “No. I’m not going to do that.”

  “If it’s about the money, Sage, I’ll wire you some.”

  “I don’t want your money.”

  “Fine. Play hardball. Name your price.”

  “What are you talking about? I don’t have a price. I’m not shaking you down for more. I’m saying I refuse to let someone I don’t even know tell me what I can or can’t do.” Why would anyone want to stop me from having clients? “This doesn’t have anything to do with Mrs. Westerly, does it?” Her name kept coming up, and she’d already warned Sage to stay away from her family. Did she believe Sage knew one of them?

  “I’m your father, and although I’ve always tried to respect that you’re a little odd, this time it’s affecting my business. Stay away from Eric Westerly. Is that clear enough for you?”

  “First, I don’t know any Eric Westerly. Second, what will you do? Cut me out of your will? Stop treating me as well as you do? Even if you threaten to stop talking to me, I’m beginning to think that might be for the best.” With that, Sage did something she’d never done before—she hung up on her father.

  Stay away from Eric Westerly.

  Sage turned on the television and was about to hunt for a video of Water Bear Man when she saw him on a news clip. Eric Westerly was in Vandorra visiting a children’s hospital in his superhero costume. The media couldn’t get enough of it. Sage flipped through the channels and found Water Bear Man everywhere. Some stations spoke of how exciting it was to see him doing a public appearance. Other stations focused on his family tie to Vandorran royalty. King Tadeas. Crown Prince Magnus. Princess Rachelle, granddaughter of Delinda Westerly of Boston.

  Rachelle. Wayne’s sister’s name is Rachelle.

  As the camera did a close-up of Water Bear Man’s face, Sage’s heart began to thud in her chest. Wayne is Eric Westerly. On a trip with his family.

  It was the worst of what she’d feared—not only had Wayne lied to her, but everything they’d shared had also been a lie. The only thing Sage was certain of was that Delinda Westerly didn’t want her around her grandson. She’d thought she’d gotten to a point where nothing could embarrass her anymore, but seeing Wayne/Eric on television, smiling and laughing as if he didn’t have a care in the world, tore at her confidence. Am I a joke to him as well?

  She turned the television off and reached for her phone. “I’m sorry, Mr. Kirby, but I can’t meet you today.”

  “Oh.” He sounded disappointed. “Do you want to reschedule?”

  Tears entered Sage’s eyes, and her voice became shaky. “I don’t know. Maybe it’s for the best if we don’t.”

  “Did something happen? Are you crying?”

  That’s all it took for Sage to burst into tears. She cried for the little girl who was finally facing the fact her parents were not coming back for her. She cried for the woman who was no longer sure she could trust her instincts. She even wept a little for the man on the phone who she hoped would find his way to happiness, because she no longer had what it would take to help him. “No,” she croaked.

  The man was quiet, then said, “I’ve done enough of it myself to know what it sounds like. Did you lose someone?”

  “He was never actually mine,” she answered with a loud sniff.

  “That doesn’t make it easier, does it?”

  “No, it doesn’t.”

  “Do you have anyone you can call?”

  Sage glanced at the time on her phone. She didn’t want to bother Bella with this. Honestly, it was nothing more than what she’d said would happen. “Not at this hour, but I will later.”

  “I know you don’t know me, but if you need to talk to someone—”

  Sage teared up again. “I’m sure you have enough troubles on your own without listening to mine.”

  “That’s the thing—I don’t. My wife passed away a year ago. I retired early to take care of her, and my life became all about Rita. I’ve been lost without her. I don’t regret one moment with her, but I don’t know who I am now. When my dog died last week, I started to wonder what the hell I was still doing here. I was pretty damn close to finding the nearest bridge and jumping off. Just to get the waiting over with. I asked for some kind of sign that I shouldn’t—anything. And you and your friend walked over. I don’t believe in miracles, but I’m still here, and I feel like someone heard me. So, if you need a friend today, I’d love to go plant shopping with you.”

  Sage wiped her tears away and took a deep, steadying breath. “I’d like that.”

  They made arrangements to meet thirty minutes from then. Sage quickly freshened up her makeup without looking herself in the eye. She was a tangle of emotions—some good, some bad.

  She hadn’t expected to enjoy her day with him, but John Kirby was an incredibly sweet man who turned out to be a really good listener. He was an opportunity for a fresh perspective. As they picked out plants for his home, she told him about Wayne. Not everything. She didn’t tell him who he was, but she did say that he’d lied to her.

  He didn’t tell her she shouldn’t ever see him again or that she shouldn’t have trusted Wayne. He nodded in understanding.

  Reeling from Wayne’s deception, Sage confessed the true nature of her own business. She had no idea how he would take it, but he seemed more curious than upset.

  “So, do you actually know anything about plants?”

  “Oh yes. I have a degree in ethnobotany.”

  “But the real reason you offer to help people with their plants is because it gives you a way into their lives while you help them?”

  “Yes.”

  “Do you ever tell them that?”

  “No.”

  “Then why tell me?”

  “Because I don’t want to lie to you. Not today. Not when I’ve just discovered how much it can hurt to learn that something isn’t true.”

  He picked up a small flowered plant. “Lies come in all sizes, and some hurt no one at all. I used to tell my wife she was beautiful every day—even at the end, when she was only a shadow of the person she’d been. Was that a lie? She was beautiful to me, and she needed to hear those words. I talked to some of your old clients. They all said that bringing plants into their homes was a catalyst to a happier time in their lives. Your lie didn’t hurt them.”

  “I hope not.” Sage hugged the potted plant she was holding closer. “I’m so sorry about your wife.”

  They went to the stall owner. John paid for the plants they were holding. “Funny thing is, I feel like she’s with me today and smiling. I’ve been so sad for so long. It has only been since meeting you that I’ve begun to feel like I might be ready to start over. Maybe get a new job, although I don’t need one. I’m ready to start caring about something again. Does that sound crazy?”

  “No, it sounds beautiful.”

  They placed the plants in the trunk of his car. “How did you plan to help me?”

  Sage tucked her hands in the back pockets of her jeans. “I was going to play matchmaker.”

  His eyes lit up. “Really? Who did you have in mind?”

  Sage described Bella
’s neighbor’s dogs, and how she was eccentric but in a beautifully fun way that Sage had hoped would make him smile.

  “She dresses them up? Seriously?”

  “You should see how adorable they look. Her grandchildren think it’s hilarious. All the pictures on her walls feature them laughing and holding them.”

  “And how were you going to get us together?”

  “My friend is her neighbor. We were going to introduce you.”

  “That’s it?”

  “When it’s right, that’s all it takes.”

  He nodded. “I’d like to meet her.”

  “You would?” Sage’s eye popped.

  “I’ve never seen a dog in a dress, and it sounds pretty damn amusing. I want reasons to laugh again.”

  “You will find them,” Sage said, “and if you’re serious, I’ll set up that introduction.”

  “I am. Would you like a ride back to your place?” he asked.

  “No, I like to walk.”

  “Sage.”

  “Yes?”

  “Good luck with your man.”

  “He’s not mine. He’s not even who I thought he was.”

  Her client shrugged. “He looked at you the way I used to look at my wife. That’s not easy to find. Maybe he deserves a second chance. Maybe he doesn’t. But I hope you find what you’re looking for as well.”

  Sage gave in to an impulse and hugged him. “Thank you. Tell me if you have a problem with any of your new friends.” She pointed to the trunk.

  He stepped back and chuckled. “I will. After I settle them in, I think I’ll go shopping for a new suit. I hear I might have an occasion to wear one soon.”

  Sage smiled. “I’ll call you when we have something set up.”

  He waved.

  She waved back and turned away. The day had not gone at all the way she’d expected, but she felt better than she had that morning. Wayne . . . Eric . . . whoever he was would probably call her when he returned to London.

  She had no idea what she’d say when he did. Would he finally be honest? Would he try to explain his lies away with more? Usually I’m drawn to help people I understand. I don’t understand Wayne . . . Eric . . . no, I don’t understand him at all.