Love Me Back (Amelia and Daniel) novel Chapter 315

Amelia slipped out of the man’s arms and into the house, finding Ashley fussing around, pretending to wipe down the dining table.

Amelia raised an eyebrow. “Enjoy the show?”

Ashley froze, cloth in hand. “Of course not! I’ve been in here the whole time.”

Amelia could picture her hunched over, sneaking glances at the security monitor by the door.

“I’ll let it slide this time,” Amelia said, voice cool. “But if you keep playing both sides and leak anything about me to Daniel, you can forget about working here.”

Ashley panicked. Where else was she going to find a job that paid double and treated her well? She immediately tossed aside the rag and pledged her loyalty. “You have my word. I’m with you all the way—dead or alive! I won’t breathe a word, I swear!”

Amelia just gave her a look and headed for the bedroom to take her afternoon nap. Ashley fidgeted for a while, then decided she should come clean to Daniel. She dialed his number.

“Mr. Campbell, I’m busted. I can’t help you anymore, not in the open or behind the scenes. Please, don’t bother sending me a paycheck…”

She rattled off her confession, but there was only silence on the other end. “Hello? Are you there, sir? Hello?”

Eventually, a hoarse, exhausted voice answered, “Got it. You’ll still get your pay. Just take good care of them.”

Worried, Ashley pressed, “Sir, are you feeling okay? Did you go to the doctor?”

Daniel didn’t answer. The line went dead.

—

Finley Walker had roped Daniel into an investment and needed his signature on some documents, but Daniel was nowhere to be found. Calls went unanswered.

After some digging around, Finley’s assistant had a eureka moment. “Maybe Mr. Campbell’s at the Elm Estates place?”

“He owns a house there too?”

“His wife lives there. He bought it on a whim. One night he mentioned it, and by the next afternoon, I was arranging the paperwork.”

Finley wasted no time. He drove straight to Elm Estates, found Daniel’s place, rang the bell, knocked—nothing. The silence inside was unsettling.

Desperate, Finley called Amelia.

She answered, her voice groggy and stuffy from sleep. “What do you want? I’m not the building manager.”

“But you’re his wife,” Finley pleaded, trying to sound diplomatic. “Can you please call Daniel? He won’t answer us, but he’ll pick up if it’s you.”

“Not interested.”

Daniel’s face fell, and he sank back down, all the life draining away. Amelia had become some kind of resurrection elixir for him—if she wasn’t there, he was back to being a corpse.

Finley was beyond exasperated. At this level of hopeless romanticism, there was no cure; even if there were, he’d drool over it.

He just wanted to get the paperwork signed and leave. “Daniel, look this over. If it’s all good, just sign here.”

Daniel’s expensive shirt was rumpled and creased. He turned his back to Finley and suddenly muttered, “Why can’t we ever go back?”

“…”

Daniel went on, “Even rockets that shoot up into the sky can come back down. Why can’t we go back?”

Finley thought: Because you’re hopelessly in love, and not everyone else is.

He brought the documents and pen around to Daniel’s side, coaxing him like a child. “We can go back, sure we can. But how about you sign these papers first, and then we’ll talk about it?”

Daniel looked up, red veins in his eyes. “Tell me.”

Finley could only keep up the kindergarten-teacher act, gently coaxing, “It’s a long story, okay? Let’s get the signature done first. Then we’ll talk as much as you want.”