The Edge of Recall Read Free Page A

give her a way to make peace with the abandonment that drained her energy, her optimism, her faith.
    Her stomach churned at the thought of confrontation, of holding someone accountable for wounding her. She had broken a cold sweat after disconnecting from Smith, after saying what had sprung to her lips before she could stop it. How could she face him now? But if she didn’t, she’d be the coward who’d had the chance and couldn’t take it.
    Hand shaking, she picked up the phone, leaned against the headboard, and punched the number. Her heart beat more wildly than in her dream. This shouldn’t be so hard.
    “Yes? Hello?” Smith’s voice was thick and sluggish.
    Her watch read just past two. She might have checked that first, but it was too late now. “Smith?”
    “Tessa.” He cleared his throat. “Is something wrong?”
    She forced her voice through her swollen throat. “I need directions.”

    After hanging up, Smith consulted the time. Tessa had needed directions at two in the morning? He hoped that wasn’t a harbinger of things to come.
    “A’right?” Bair mumbled from the opposite bunk in the narrow trailer.
    “I’ve snagged our landscape architect.”
    Bair’s springs squeaked as he repositioned. “In the middle of the night?”
    “Quite.”
    As Bair slipped back to sleep, Smith calculated the chances of not offending Tessa before he had her signature on a contract. Low probability and lower chance of quick resolution when it occurred. But the property owner, Rumer Gaston, had been impressed by the article in Architectural Digest . He wanted her on board.
    And Smith did too. At least he thought he did. He sighed. Tomorrow was soon enough to face Tessa Young.

CHAPTER
    3
    Smith had not directed her to his office, as she would have expected. He was on-site already and wanted to meet there. His directions were clear, but the purpose vague. He had said only that he would explain when she got there.
    Her chest quaked as she drove past pleasant marinas lined with sail and fishing boats, with gulls winging overhead and standing like pegs on the low wooden docks that stretched into the brackish water of bay and river joinings. She entered green leafy forests broken by brown fields of feed corn, low fields of soybeans and potatoes, then more forests with the occasional white-tailed deer peering out timidly.
    Maybe she should have called Dr. Brenner. He would have helped her process the decision, but she was between appointments and didn’t want to need more— didn’t need more. It was only the imminence of seeing Smith that made her think it. Smith with his aristocratic confidence, his compelling personality and contagious smile.
    She gripped the steering wheel and reminded herself this was her decision. Smith had made the offer, but she’d chosen to check it out. A professional reconnaissance and the chance for personal resolution. Both of them positive reasons to reenter his sphere. She could control her thoughts and emotions and would not be swept anywhere she did not intend to go.
    She did wonder if he would look the same. She hadn’t changed much—except in ways that would keep her from imagining in him what she hoped to find in everyone and never did. She had learned a lot since those days at Cornell when Smith’s had been the strong hand guiding her through.
    She’d appreciated his mentoring, but that didn’t mean she had to become his clone. She had her own dreams and plans and realities. Why couldn’t he understand that? Because Smith wanted what Smith wanted—and usually got.
    His dynamic and friendly personality earned him his popularity. Who wouldn’t like Smith Chandler? Who wouldn’t want him near, imagine him caring, trust him and—
    She stopped herself with a forceful recognition of reality. That was who she’d thought he was. He’d proved otherwise.
    She arrived at a turnoff blocked by a gate marked No Trespassing. Very inviting. She parked and got out, but didn’t see another