CHAPTER 5: The Name She Never Asked

Rachel’s smile disappeared completely.
“Mr. Whitmore?” she repeated.
The question sounded foolish as soon as it left her mouth.
Carter remained still behind Noah, the sedan parked at the curb like quiet evidence. Noah’s phone stayed in his hand. Rachel’s clutch stayed pressed against her side. The wet sidewalk reflected all three of them in broken strips of silver and black.
“Your father,” Rachel said slowly, “as in Jonathan Whitmore?”
Noah’s answer was calm. “Yes.”
She searched his face, hoping for a joke, a misunderstanding, some hidden cruelty that would make her less wrong.
There was none.
Only the same man she had known for eight months.
The man who brought soup when she was sick.
The man who remembered her mother’s birthday.
The man who listened more than he spoke.
The man she had just dismissed because his wealth had not introduced itself loudly enough.
Her voice dropped. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
Noah looked at her for a long second.
“You never asked my last name.”