CHAPTER 30

“Thanks to dance, I can change my hair, costume, and makeup in five minutes.”

How had everything gotten so mixed up? It wasn’t that Shannon wasn’t happy to have Jennifer move in with them—she was. Jennifer was nice, her rent was going to take the edge off of their money troubles, and she was even going to cook for them. Traci, especially, was thrilled about that.

But, it was all quite a surprise.

Luckily, she was beginning to realize that unexpected developments were a part of life. People were imperfect, and life wasn’t supposed to be so simple, so cut and dried.

She reckoned it made things more flavorful and rich.

Now, showing Jennifer her small room in their loft, which happened to be located right next to the kitchen, Shannon wondered if it was Jennifer who was having second thoughts.

Not that she would blame her. The room didn’t look like much, not even after she, Traci, and Kimber had cleaned it out last night.

“What do you think?” she asked Jennifer. “I know it’s not much, but at least you have a pretty window seat.”

Jennifer was standing right in front of the little alcove. Honestly, it was every teenage-girl’s dream. It already had a pretty set of cushions in coordinated blues and green paisley patterns. A perfect place to sit and read or even just to enjoy sitting in the sun and watching the world go by below.

Turning around, Jennifer smiled. “I love this window seat. It’s cozy. I think the rest of the room is going to be just fine, too. It’s big enough for my double bed and dresser.”

“There’s no closet,” she warned.

“I noticed that, but I’ll make do. I’ll get one of those portable closets from the discount store.”

“And you’re going to have to share a bathroom with three of us.”

A hint of a smile played on her lips. “I can share a bathroom.”

Thinking of her classes, she added, “Also, this room is right above my dance studio. That means you’ll sometimes be hearing the music float up. Especially when I have my teenage girls. They can be loud.”

Jennifer looked even more amused. “Shannon, are you trying to encourage me to move in or stay out?”

Feeling foolish, Shannon shrugged. “Sorry. I guess I don’t want you to get moved in and then realize that this situation is a far cry from your beautiful house.”

“I knew that it was going to be different.” She bit her bottom lip, then added, “Honestly, this might be a better situation for me than living with Dylan. He was gone a lot, both with work and his social activities. There were times when I got kind of scared, being so alone.”

“You definitely won’t be alone here. Between the three of us and my classes, there’s always something going on.”

“I’ll be fine. The price is more than fair, too.”

They’d agreed to a rent of three hundred dollars a month. It included utilities and food . . . but Jennifer also agreed to cook that food four nights a week. Shannon had told her that she and her sisters didn’t care what nights she chose to cook—just to let them know.

“We’re so excited to experience your cooking, Jen. Things have been pretty slim pickings around here.”

“Believe me, I’m excited to cook for you. It gives me good practice for the business I’m starting.”

Glad that all the nuts and bolts were getting organized, Shannon finally brought up the part of Jennifer’s move-in that had been weighing on her mind. “So, how are you going to get your furniture and other things over here?”

“Dylan and a couple guys from the police department are going to bring them over sometime today.”

“That’s good.” She tried to smile, though her insides were pinching. She really wasn’t ready to see him anytime soon.

Some of the confidence that had been shining in Jennifer’s eyes dimmed. “Shannon, I know the two of you were getting close. I feel terrible that my personal problems interfered with that.”

“This isn’t on you.” She shrugged. “I’m sure you know as well as I do that not every relationship works out.”

“Maybe it isn’t over yet.”

She didn’t want to hurt Jennifer’s feelings. Dylan was her brother and they were close. “You’re right. Never say never.”

Jennifer sat down on the window seat. “For what it’s worth, I think you should know that Dylan had almost as hard a time with my attack as I did.” She paused to take a fortifying breath before continuing. “He not only found me right, um, after, but caught the guys. He also had to testify, not only on the crime scene, but on what they said when they were being interrogated.”

“I didn’t know that.”

Jennifer turned to face the window. “It was bad, Shannon. Not just my attack, but the things they said. I wasn’t the first woman they’d done this to. Dylan was haunted by it all . . . and scared to death that I wasn’t going to be able to recover and that somehow they were going to get off.”

“But they did go to prison, right?”

“Only two out of three of them went. The third was sixteen, and his lawyer made him sound like a choir boy. Almost as much of a victim as I was. He was put in a juvenile rehabilitation center.”

“And now he’s writing you notes.”

She turned back to Shannon. “We think so. Some of what he wrote me was so close to what the other guys said during the attack, I can’t imagine that it would be anyone else.” She exhaled. “I’m telling you all of this not to change your mind as much as to give you an idea of how freaked out he would have been when I got lost in the woods. Even though all this time has passed, the memory of it all is still fresh.”

Shannon’s mouth felt dry. Jennifer hadn’t been wrong. That information did give her a new sense of what Dylan had been feeling when he’d lashed out at her.

But did that mean that she needed to give him a pass for the things he said? She wasn’t sure.

“I appreciate you sharing that with me.”

Jennifer stood up again. “And I appreciate you opening up your home to me. No matter how bad that experience was, I need to keep moving forward. That means that I need to keep getting stronger.” Looking even more assured, she lifted her chin. “Moving out of Dylan’s place is the right thing to do.”

“We’re really glad you’re here,” Shannon said, crossing the room to give her a quick hug. “Let us know if you need help getting settled, okay? I’ve got to go get ready for a class.”

* * *

Looking at her watch, she hurried down the stairs. She had a brand-new client arriving in fifteen minutes. It was another private lesson, this one last-minute. The man had contacted her via email, asking if she could teach him how to swing dance. After she’d given him the standard information about classes and fees, he’d asked for her first available slot.

Though they’d only exchanged a couple of emails, his notes were polite and formal, and she imagined him to be in his sixties or seventies. Honestly, after all the tension she’d been feeling with Dylan, she was looking forward to an easy class with someone her grandfather’s age.

She also didn’t want him to be disappointed with his decision to contact her. Luckily, she was already in her dress and two-inch heels. She scurried into her studio, turned on lights in there and in the front entryway, and opened up her new file, now neatly filled with blank contracts and forms.

As soon as she wrote down Mr. Emerson DiAngelo’s name and the date on the form, she turned on her stereo system and double-checked the swing dances she had marked on her Ballroom Beats program.

She’d just sat down at her little desk—with five minutes to spare—when the front door opened.

Shannon stood up, happy to greet her little old gentleman, and came face-to-face with someone completely different.

She was looking at a young guy in faded jeans and a dark gray T-shirt with some kind of snowboard emblem on it. He had short dark hair, a couple of tattoos on his arms, and the best pair of cheek bones she’d ever seen.

She stood up. “Hi. May I help you?”

“I hope so,” he replied in a deep voice that wasn’t displeasing. “I’m looking for Shannon Murphy.”

“That’s me.”

He walked toward her with an outstretched hand. “Good to meet you. I’m Emerson DiAngelo.”

“Good to meet you, too,” she said as his hand covered hers. When he smiled at her, she smiled back.

But inside? Her stomach was churning. Honestly, how come no one was who she expected them to be?