“Now suddenly you’re in the spotlight again. I bet it’s making him completely mental. That’s the best revenge.”

“I don’t want revenge. But here’s the thing. There’s something else I discovered about Mick Taylor. Something a lot worse. He’s the one who was abusing Angelique, and I’m pretty sure he had something to do with her drug use.”

Daria’s jaw dropped. “Mick? Seriously? I don’t know, Caroline. He’s a dick for stealing designs, but hitting a woman? Angelique, of all people?”

“That’s why I didn’t realize it until now. We all assumed it was Roman or some other guy she refused to talk about. But guess what? I went to see Roman and figured out some things.” She explained about the meetings at the church and what she’d learned from Angelique’s sponsor.

“God, that’s so sad. I feel horrible for not figuring it out. How do you know Mick was with her that day?”

“It was the smallest thing. His shoes.”

Daria frowned.

“He was wearing shoes from Apiary. They’re, like, a thousand dollars a pair. The day Angelique died, someone in Apiary shoes was in my building—I saw the tread marks on my mail and on the stairs going up. At the time, I didn’t think anything of it, but today I saw him in those shoes, and I thought about the fact that no one in my building ever wore thousand-dollar shoes. And then I remembered that Mick had been to rehab. He denied everything, of course. Even tried to gaslight me. He said I’d be regarded as a liar, trying to spread rumors about my former employer.”

“Did you tell the police?”

“I called them and made a report. But since I didn’t witness anything directly, they’re limited as to what they can do. No victim, no crime. And it’s Mick Taylor. ‘Mick fucking Taylor,’ as he called himself as he was throwing me out of his office. He can afford any legal team in the city.”

“He’s a nightmare, and you’re right—worse than I thought. But what can we do?”

Caroline told her about the Sewing Circle and the things she’d learned. “Guys who abuse women don’t stop at just one. It’s a habit, ingrained, especially in a guy with so much power and status, a guy who’s been getting away with it probably for decades.”

“So you’re saying there are other women?”

“With Angelique gone, he’s torturing someone else. Other models. Other designers. Interns and assistants. If I can find someone, talk to her, maybe it’ll start something.”

“I don’t know, Caroline. Sounds like a long shot.”

“It does. But maybe I have a superpower, too—knowing how to organize a group of women.”

Chapter 29

Will missed Caroline like hell, and she’d only been gone a few days. Christ, he missed her when they were apart a few hours. It was bad. And it was so, so good. In the aftermath of the long, sad failure of his marriage, Caroline was doing the impossible. She was making him feel that kind of soaring, head-in-the-clouds love a teenager felt, but this was better, because he knew exactly what it was and what it wasn’t.

It was the kind of genuine, deep relationship he’d craved all his life, maybe without even knowing how much he needed it.

It wasn’t a crush. It wasn’t what his grandma used to call a passing fancy.

No, this was as real as the ground beneath his feet. It wasn’t going to go away. It was going to get stronger and deeper, day by day. Knowing this was sweet relief, because after Sierra had left, he’d had his doubts that he would ever find a love like this, or that it even existed outside of starry-eyed books and movies.

Looking back over the years, he marveled at the long and twisty road their story had taken. He remembered every moment with Caroline, beginning when they were kids. The memories were as bright as the sunrise and gilded with happiness. Sometimes he looked back over those days and wondered why he hadn’t seen it, the fact that he had loved this girl beginning with the very first day they’d met.

After the incident in Africa, a trauma counselor had said—in a different context altogether—that things happen in their own time. Could be that was the reason the love of his life had been right in front of him for decades, and he simply hadn’t recognized it.

Her trip to New York solidified something he’d been thinking all along. When she sent him a text message saying she was back, he left his assistant coach in charge of practice and went straight to her parents’ house. She came outside as he was getting out of his car and flew into his arms.

“Hey,” he said, his heart filling up as he inhaled the scent of her hair. A second later, he realized she was crying. “Hey, what’s the matter? Didn’t the meeting in New York go well?”

“It did. And it didn’t,” she said. “Long story.”

“I’ve got all day. Get in.” He held the car door open for her. As he backed out of the driveway, he saw her mother in the window.

“She’s a lifesaver,” Caroline said. “I don’t know what I’d do without her, watching the kids and giving us a place to live.”

He drove to the main town of Long Beach, where shops and businesses were closing for the day, and headed south to the wooded trails and cliff-top lighthouses. As he parked in the deserted coast guard lot, she smiled and murmured, “Our spot.”

“We came here together the first day we met, remember?”

They hiked out to the rocky escarpment at the tip of Cape Disappointment and sat watching the waves. The sky was overcast, the ocean an impenetrable iron gray. “It was strange being back in the city,” she said. “I spent nearly half my life there, but in a way, it felt like I was starting all over again. The deal with Eau Sauvage is moving ahead, so that’s all good. Willow was awesome in the meeting. I also met up with some people who knew Angelique.”

He put his arm around her and let her talk. She’d uncovered some hard truths about the kids’ mother, including the fact that the guy beating up on her was Mick Taylor, the same one who’d stolen Caroline’s designs. “It’s like he’s got this horrible hidden side, so my friend Daria and I reached out to women who’ve worked with him or are working with him now. Models and interns and assistants.” She looped her arms around her knees and stared straight ahead at the horizon. “I tried to convince them that it was safe to speak out, that it’s not okay the way he treats people.”

Will studied her profile. She was so beautiful to him, somehow both determined and vulnerable at the same time. “Let me guess. Nobody spoke up.”

She nodded, letting out a sigh. “This business is hard at every level, but especially for women who are desperate to establish themselves. They worked all their lives to get to New York, and there I was, a stranger, telling them to point the finger at a guy who can end their careers the way he ended mine. I was naive, thinking they might come forward. They’re not going to throw themselves under the bus for my sake. They have bills to pay. Some probably have kids. No one can afford to rock the boat. Before all this happened, I probably would have been the same way. Remember, I’m the one who walked away after he stole my designs. And now I’m asking them to stand and fight?”