by ANDREA SMITH
“It’s what I want, Trey,” I answered.
It wasn’t the truth, but it should’ve been if I had any sense of self-preservation.
“Well, it’s not what I want,” he said, coming closer to me.
I couldn’t have him get close to me. I needed to take Gina’s advice and get out while my heart was somewhat intact.
“Look,” I said, “Let’s be pragmatic about this. You have multiple responsibilities, Trey. All I seem to do is distract you from them, and then you resent the hell out of me for it.”
“That’s not true,” he replied, sitting down on the bed, next to my open suitcase.
“I only worry about you and want you to be safe. That is why I flew back here to make sure that you were okay. I was worried beyond reason when that picture came up on my Blackberry. It was very obvious you were wasted. One guy on each side of you, erect,” he hissed as he said the “e” word.
“I had no clue as to who was taking the picture with your phone. Then it was randomly sent to me, with no message. So I called your cell and it was clear that you were totally hammered. In that state I wasn’t sure if you would end up in the trunk of one of those idiot’s cars.”
“Oh, please,” I remarked. “Be honest, Trey, you were pissed because that picture coming across your phone probably interrupted your cozy little dinner with your mystery woman.”
“I have no clue what you are talking about.”
“Remember? You and I on the phone earlier, muffled conversations, then a female voice saying time to go? Dinner reservations?”
He was thoughtful for a moment, and then a smile broke loose.
“Her?” he said, as if I should possibly have a clue as to who she was.
“Tylar that was an intern at our firm, Beth. She is simply helping with the administrative process on this case, a gopher actually at this point she’s actually more like a junior intern."
He chuckled as if that alone should put my mind at ease.
“Why pray tell then would you be having dinner with Beth?”
“I wasn’t having dinner with Beth,” he replied. “We all – everyone from the firm involved with this case – broke for dinner. It looks to me like someone’s imagination is running away again,” he teased.
“Yeah, like when someone finds their own clothes strewn around their own bedroom and believes another guy has been there wearing them?”
Trey frowned at my response. He definitely did not appreciate the parallel I had drawn.
“It doesn’t matter, Trey. I’m not staying here. I’m not going to be talked about, called a Twinkie, profiled as a ‘whore’. I have enough money in my trust for my living expenses for this summer, plus the $1000 I won in the race last week. I will do just fine!”
I had finished packing the backpack. All I needed was my toothbrush; that was still in Trey’s bathroom.
I set my backpack on the floor, and then zipped the canvas suitcase up that was on the bed. As I lifted it to set it on the floor, the stack of mail that had been on my counter back at the cottage, slipped out of the netting and landed on the bed. I picked the envelopes up, putting them in order to stack again when I saw the envelope from the law firm where my mom worked - Findley, Morris & Sneed in Louisville. It was postmarked June 7th, nearly three weeks ago.
I opened the envelope and unfolded the letter. I saw that the signature line was signed off by Andrew Sneed. There was a copy of a returned disbursement check
stamped “Insufficient Funds – Trust Closed.”
The check had been written to my college for fall registration fees for classes. Andrew Sneed’s letter consisted of a couple of brief sentences, basically requesting that I contact him to set up an appointment at my earliest convenience to discuss the matter of my trust. His office, home and cell numbers were provided in the letter.
“This can’t be possible,” I said out loud, forgetting for the moment that Trey was still sitting on the bed.
“What is it Tylar” Trey asked, a look of concern crossing his face.
I handed him the letter.
“Could you take a look at this for me? I need to get my toothbrush and some of my other toiletries that are still in your bathroom.”
“Of course,” he replied, already distracted by the letter and looking at the returned check from the bank.
When I returned, Trey was folding the letter and the contents up, returning them to the original envelope.
“Tylar,” he asked. “If you don’t mind sharing this with me, do you recall how much money was left in your trust at the last accounting?”
‘It was a little over $50,000.” I answered. “That was before I requested this disbursement for my fall registration fees.”
“Would you like me to contact this Mr. Sneed on your behalf to see what I can find out? It could save you a trip back there and I’d like to be sure that he is on the up and up with this matter. Didn’t you tell me that your mother worked for this firm?”
“Yes,” I answered, already fairly certain where he was going with this. “But she had no ability to access my trust,” I explained. “That was clearly stipulated in the terms of it.”
“Do you have a copy of the trust documentation?” he asked.
“No, my mom would have that, or the firm.”
“Yes, I realize that,” he stated, “I just wondered if you have ever been provided a copy.”
“Trey, the truth is I would be grateful for your assistance with this, that is if you have the time. I know you still have this case you’re working on, so I don’t wish to impose.”
“It’s no imposition whatsoever, Tylar. This case could wind up as early as mid-next week. In the meantime, I will make some calls and at least get copies. You’ll need to sign a
statement of representation. I have a generic form in my briefcase; let me get one for you.”
He disappeared momentarily so I went down the hall to Gina’s room, opening the door.
“Call your aunt, Gina, I’m ready.”
She nodded affirmatively. I got back to my room before Trey got back with the form. I didn’t want to get into a discussion again about me staying here with him. It was all just too complicated. He returned with the form, I filled it in, put my identifying information in the proper blank spaces and signed it.
“There you go, Trey. I really appreciate your help.”
“No problem at all,” he said all smooth and silky.
“You go ahead and keep the letter with all of the contact information,” I said, handing him back the envelope. "Just let me know what you find out when you get a chance to contact the firm in Louisville, okay?”
“Sure,” he said, puzzled. “You aren’t still planning to leave are you?”
“Nothing’s changed from fifteen minutes ago,” I replied.
My heart was broken, but it would mend.
“I want you here,” he stated firmly.
“I understand that, Trey. I also ‘get’ that you are pretty much used to getting what you want, when you want it, and the way that you want it. I’m sorry, but this time you can’t have it.”
I grabbed my backpack, suitcase and headed towards the door. I was a bit shocked when Trey blocked my access to the bedroom door.
He stood there, in all his gorgeous glory, with his arms crossed, like a mountain I would be forced to move in order to get past him. I looked at him and saw the turmoil in his eyes. He took the suitcase from my hand, placing it on the floor beside me. He wrapped his strong arms around me, pulling me close, burying his face into my hair.
His hand was under my chin, tilting my head back as his lips came crushing down on mine. He sensual full lips gently worked mine softly at first, then with an urgency that left me breathless. His tongue traced my lower lip, softly, playfully, then worked inside my mouth, exploring with a hunger that was matched only by my own. His hands moved expertly over my body; exploring my breasts, moving down to my butt, pressing me in so that I could feel his growing manhood against
me.
Gina’s timing was perfect. She knocked on the door, startling us apart.
“Tylar, Aunt Becky’s out front waiting.”
I pulled myself apart from Trey, grabbing my suitcase and heading to the door. He didn’t try to stop me. Part of me was glad, part of me wasn’t. I couldn’t look back. I knew that if I left, I couldn’t look back. Gina was waiting for me in the hall, studying my face as we descended the stairway.
“Are you all right?” she asked, concerned.
“Not at the moment,” I answered truthfully.
We climbed into Becky’s car and rode silently to her home. Once there, Gina led me to the room where she had been staying. It was upstairs and ran the whole length of the brick ranch. There were two twin beds, and a bath of its own up there. Gina switched the television on for the comfort of some distracting noise I think. She finally sat down on one of the twin beds and looked at me.
“Do you want to talk about it, Tylar?” she asked.
“Not really,” I replied. “I’m not sure what there is to talk about.”
“Listen,” she said. “I’ve got an idea that may take your mind off this bullshit, at least for a couple of days, though we will need Aunt Becky to clear it.”
“Shoot,” I said.
“We’re going to be done with the stuff at the winery at end of shift Wednesday. Ian will be coming with his pick-up truck to get the fifty cases of wine we are taking back to Sanctuary, our club in Atlanta,” she explained. “Why don’t you plan on finishing out the week, and then getting a bus on Friday after shift to come to Atlanta and stay with us for a long weekend? Monday is the Fourth of July, which is a paid holiday for you, right? Then just come back on the bus on Tuesday. You would only miss one day of work, how about it? "
I considered it for about ten seconds.
“As long as you can clear it with Becky, I’d love to,” I replied. The change would do me good.
“Fantastic!” Gina said. “We will have a great time. You will love Ian, and Atlanta.”
“I’m not getting my hopes up until you clear it with Becky,” I reminded her.
“Not to worry,” Gina responded.
We both got showers and got ready for bed. The prior day and today had both taken their toll on us. I got my cell phone out of my purse, checking to see if I had any missed calls or text messages from Trey. There was nothing from anyone.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
The next few days sped by quickly. Gina and I returned to the winery on Monday to finish up the bottling, corking and labeling on the last batch of wine. True to Gina’s estimation, we were finished by close of business on Wednesday. Ian was driving up from Atlanta. He should reach Bristol late Wednesday night.
As promised, Gina had cleared it through Becky for me to enjoy a long weekend with them in Atlanta. Rather than taking a bus which would take somewhere in excess of five hours due to all of the stops, Gina used some frequent flier miles she had accrued to get me a flight. It was only an hour and she argued that she still had plenty more frequent flier miles left.
I had visited the doctor at the hospital for a follow-up on Tuesday. He had cleared me for work with no restrictions which meant I could go back to the stables. I was ecstatic. Becky said I could finish the week out taking inventory in the wine cellar, and performing general clean up and maintenance of the equipment there as well. There wouldn’t be another tank fully fermented for another few weeks. I was a bit uneasy with her reluctance to cut me loose immediately. Perhaps paranoia had simply set in.
Trey had returned to Atlanta on Sunday to finish up with the trial on the class action suit. He had called my cell several times, leaving messages for me. I hadn’t returned any of them. I wasn’t sure if he had information back from Andrew Sneed yet on the status of my trust. At this point, I didn’t care.
I was packing my stuff up in my suitcase and back pack when Gina came bouncing up the steps.
“Where do you think you’re going?” she asked.
“Gina, your husband is coming here tonight. You guys need some time for yourselves. You don’t need me in the way. Besides, I’m not going to infringe on your aunt once you’re gone. I’ve got to establish myself somewhere.”
“Where are you going?”
“Back to my cottage,” I replied.
“Oh, you can’t do that, Tylar. I will really worry about you if you do that.”
“Listen,” I replied, “It will just be for a couple of nights and then I’m off to Atlanta for three whole nights. I will be fine.”
“Promise me you will have Clint keep an eye out on you? Maybe he could crash on the couch or something?” She was really getting freaked out. I couldn’t imagine Gina ever being frightened of anything herself, but for some reason, she was frightened for me. Go figure.
“I will let him know, okay?”
“Okay, I mean it.”
She pulled an envelope out of her purse, handing it to me.
“Your tickets,” she explained. “I will be at the airport to pick you up. Your whole itinerary is in there.”
“Thanks, Gina,” I said, my eyes welling up as I hugged her.
“Now don’t go getting all mushy on me, girlfriend. That is so not east coast,” she complained, wiping something from her eye.
Becky gave me a lift back to the stables. From there, she helped me carry my stuff up the pathway to my cottage.
“You know you are welcome to stay on with me, Tylar.”
“Thanks, Becky, I appreciate that but with me going back to the stables next week, it really is way more practical for me to be here. It’s closer, different hours, you know.”
She didn’t say anything, looking away as if she knew something she couldn’t share with me. What the hell was going on?
I got everything unpacked and put away. The food in the refrigerator was pretty much spoiled so I cleaned it out. I would see if Clint would drive me to the store later. I plugged my cell phone into the charger as someone knocked on my door.
It was Clint, standing there grinning.
“Hey neighbor,” he greeted me warmly, “Are you back to stay?”
“It appears that way,” I replied, feeling somewhat sheepish around him.
I bet it wouldn’t be long before it was all over the compound that Trey had ‘dumped’ his Twinkie.
“Come on in," I invited holding the screen door open for Clint. “I wanted to talk to you about a couple of things if you have a minute.”
“Sure thing,” Clint replied, following me into the kitchenette. “I just made some iced tea, Clint, would you like a glass?’
“Sounds great.”
I got too tall glasses out of the cupboard, filling both of them with iced tea.
“What’s up?” he asked, after taking a large drink of the tea.
“First off, would you mind running me up to the grocery this evening?”
“Not a problem.”
“Great, thanks. Also, well I wouldn’t impose but I promised Gina that I would ask if you might kind of keep your eye out for me over here? You know, with the strange items and notes that have mysteriously shown up and all?”
“You know I will,” Clint answered. “Tell you what; let me program my cell number into your phone, okay? That way, if you get spooked for any reason, you just hit my contact button and I’ll coming running, how’s that?”
“Thanks, Clint that makes me feel a lot better about staying here.”
“Is everything else okay?”
He could tell that it wasn’t. I just didn’t feel comfortable getting into the details with anyone, at least not right now.
“Everything will be okay,” I responded.
He didn’t press me any further.
“You ready to go to the grocery now?” he asked.
I nodded affirmatively.
“Let’s go then, my truck is parked down at the stables." I grabbed my purse, carefully making sure that I locked up the cottage. We walked down the path to the stables. Cli
nt filled me in as to how things had been going, mentioning that some local intern had been filling in for me part time, but that it looked as if the kid might go full-time next week. I stopped in my tracks right then and there. Clint walked a few paces more before he realized that I was no longer walking beside him.
“What do you mean; the kid is going full-time next week? I’m cleared to come back now."
“Hey,” Clint replied, “I didn’t mean to upset you Tylar. I thought you all about it.”
“About what?” I demanded.
“About you not coming back over to work with us.”
“Who made that decision?” I barked.
It wasn’t Clint’s fault but I was livid.
“Who the hell do you think?” he asked, giving me a sidelong glance.
As if on cue, we saw a black stretch limo winding up the long drive to the manor. Trey was back. Clint and I jumped into his small pick-up truck and headed out on the gravel drive that led up to the paved one that surrounded the manor. As we drove by the circular drive that went up to the front
“Well,” I said sarcastically. “It appears that his majesty has returned to his castle. I think I will be paying him a visit this evening. Perhaps he will enlighten me as to what my new duties will be next week.”
Clint gave me a look that said, ‘I wouldn’t fuck with him if I were you.’ I didn't care. I had options no matter what.
Perhaps he simply planned on firing me; if that were the case, life would go on. Maybe he wanted to make me miserable enough to quit. He was almost there on that one.
Clint and I finished our grocery shopping. I asked him to stop at the carry-out and purchase some wine for me. He was extremely uneasy about doing this.
“Oh for Chrissake,” I whined. “In two and a half weeks, I am turning twenty-one.”
He finally relented after he made me promise that I would go nowhere near the pool. He came out with the goods, I handed him my money. It was clear Clint was not extremely comfortable being my cohort in crime. Soon he wouldn’t have to be.
We carried our groceries up the path to the cottages. It was a work night for both of us and just starting to get dark. Clint walked up to my porch with me, making sure nothing was amiss and waiting until I was safely inside before leaving, reminding me to keep my cell phone near and call if I needed him. I assured him that I would.