Set In Stone

by K. M. Scott

  “You’ll have to ask her yourself to get those answers.”

  That’s exactly what I’d do, but that conversation would happen in person. “Thanks for everything, Tristan. Does Tressa know? Did you tell her? I can’t wait to see her.”

  He shook his head slowly and frowned. “No, I didn’t tell her, but don’t bother looking for her at the penthouse. She flew out yesterday. Give her some time. I’m sure when she finds out the truth that you never cheated on her, she’ll come around.”

  “That isn’t how we work. I need to talk to her. Where is she?”

  But he wouldn’t tell me. He simply repeated his suggestion that she’d come around.

  “If you talk to her, please tell her the truth so she knows.”

  He smiled and said goodbye, and as I stood there wishing I knew where Tressa had gone to, all I could think of was what I told her that night she ended it with me. You run, and I chase.

  The problem was this time I didn’t know where to find her.

  An hour later, I stormed through the front door of Sherilyn’s office to find her talking to another client, laughing it up like she hadn’t just tried to ruin the best part of my life. I didn’t recognize the man on the screen talking to her, but he was better off getting far away from her.

  “She’ll call you back. Or maybe she won’t. I don’t fucking care. Find a different publicist because this one’s done.”

  Sherilyn’s mouth dropped open, and she began to complain, but I stopped her cold. “I know what you fucking did. Eden did an interview about an hour ago and told the truth. You’ve been paying her for a year. What the fuck for? To ruin my life?”

  She stared at me in shock, like anything I said hadn’t been right. “Killian, don’t be upset. Everyone benefited. She needed some exposure, and I knew the people she wanted to get in contact with. As soon as I found out Miami was going to trade you, I made sure you two got together. It made for good headlines, so by the time you got here to New York, you were the name on everyone’s lips.”

  “As much as hearing you paid some woman to sleep with me makes me feel like shit, that doesn’t explain why you paid her to lie that we were together this September. What did that do for my career or hers, for that matter? Who benefited there?”

  Sherilyn came around her desk and stood in front of me to pat my chest, a move she’d done since the very first time she met me. Back then, it made me feel like someone important was looking out for me. Now it sickened me to have her touch any part of me, so I backed away.

  “Answer me! Who benefited? Did you? Is that what this is?” I bellowed so loud she jumped.

  Her expression hardened, and she suddenly changed in front of my eyes from a forty year old woman who’d helped me to some haggard thing who’d betrayed me. “You were too involved with Tressa. Your brand is all about sex appeal, Killian. Everything you were was sex. There was no way you’d have any chance at a career in modeling or acting if your brand was tarnished like you seemed intent on doing. The tied-down lovesick guy isn’t a huge seller. I was just looking out for your future.”

  As I watched her explain away the horrible things she’d done, I felt my rage ebb until all that was left inside me for Sherilyn was sadness. She never understood that as much as I loved being in the public eye, it was never about sex appeal or any of that bullshit. All I ever wanted to do was play football and have some kind of happiness off the field.

  “You didn’t care about my future. You cared about yours. We’re done.”

  She shook her head frantically as she pointed at the pictures of me that covered her walls. “No, Killian, you don’t understand. Look around you. You’re my most important client. I would never hurt your career. You have to know that.”

  I looked around at all those pictures of me on and off the field, alone and with ex-girlfriends, and felt nothing for any of them. “You didn’t hurt my career, Sherilyn. You hurt the woman I love. Your lies broke us up. Don’t you see what that did to me? How can I ever trust you again?”

  Hurrying around her desk, she grabbed her phone and held it up as she stared at me desperately. “I’ll call her. Right now. I’ll call her and tell her it was a publicity stunt. She’ll forgive you. I can do it. I’m happy to, Killian. We can get past this and be a team again.”

  Sad and disgusted at how the person I trusted most for all those years had sold me out, I hung my head and said, “No, we can’t. I don’t know what’s going to happen to you once the authorities find out your part in Eden’s lies, but our time working together is done. Goodbye, Sherilyn.”

  As I turned to leave, she rushed over to grab my sleeve and began to cry. “No, Killian, we can fix this. No one wants you to be successful like me. You know that. Please, don’t do this.”

  I’d heard enough of her plans for my future. Yanking my arm from her hold, I walked out of her office as she sobbed behind me about what she would do for my career.

  She didn’t get it. I had the career I’d always dreamed of. Now I wanted more, and I didn’t care if that meant the world didn’t think I was sexy ever again. All I cared about was getting Tressa back.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Tressa

  Nearly eight and a half hours on a plane left me feeling like maybe running off to Barcelona hadn’t been my best idea. Actually, I hadn’t run off. No running. I’d left on a working trip. That was my job.

  You run. I chase.

  Killian’s words echoed in my head as I tossed my bag onto the couch just inside the door of my penthouse and headed toward the bedroom. I’d hoped to forget all about him, but I forgot how similar the penthouses were in all the Richmont chain hotels. The Barcelona one wasn’t the mirror image of this one, but it was close enough that it made all kinds of memories of him come flooding back every day of the past two months.

  When I learned the truth of what that Eden woman had done, I almost called him. I stood there in front of the screen and thought about it, but in the end, I walked away. Those pictures of him supposedly cheating on me weren’t the entire reason why I broke things off with him. I’d never fit in with his world. I’d tried, and I’d failed. I liked keeping my private life private. I liked staying at home and curling up with the man I loved as we watched movies, just the two of us.

  And I liked the idea of a life away from the limelight.

  Killian loved being the focus of attention, and I didn’t blame him for that. He had the looks and the talent and the personality, so why shouldn’t he enjoy his time in the spotlight? I just couldn’t be the person by his side in those bright lights.

  So I never called. I hid out in Spain far longer than I’d planned, setting up a working office at the Richmont Barcelona and doing my job as I always had. That’s who I was. That there probably weren’t too many men who would ever appreciate that was something I’d have to learn to accept.

  While I lay there on the bed we’d shared, I heard my phone ring out in the living room. Damnit. I hadn’t taken it out of my bag when I got home. It might be Boyd, although I sincerely doubted he’d gotten up to call me at six in the morning on a Sunday. I was a slave driver, but even I gave my assistants a day off once a week.

  Dragging myself up out of bed to answer the call, I saw it was my father. Instantly, fear rushed through me. He would never call this early in the morning unless something was wrong. A million horrible ideas raced through my brain. My mother had sounded off the last time I spoke to her. Summer had told me she and Ethan were traveling out to Montana to do a photo shoot with some guy and his horses. Had they been trampled? Was something wrong with Diana?

  My heart slammed against my chest as my fear ratcheted up in just that brief moment, so I quickly answered and without even saying hello, I asked, “What’s wrong, Dad?”

  “Nothing. I knew you were getting in this morning and wanted to see how you were doing. Why do you think something’s wrong?” he asked in that baffled voice I’d heard him use with my siblings so many times in our lives.

&n
bsp; I took a deep breath and tried to calm my nerves. My father needed to learn that calling at six in the morning meant something bad to the majority of the world.

  “I’m fine, Dad. Did you see the pictures I sent from the designer? What do you think? I love the Spanish touches she wants to incorporate in the Barcelona location.”

  “I did, but now’s not the time for business. Rest up because I want you to come with me on a trip this afternoon. The plane will leave at two o’clock. I’ll have a car come get you at one, so be ready.”

  My body sagged at the very thought of going on another plane so soon after my flight from Europe hours before. “Dad, can we do this tomorrow or Tuesday? I’m exhausted from my trip back from Barcelona. I just got in.”

  “No, I’m sorry, honey. It’s got to be today. I’ll see you at the plane at two,” he said firmly.

  With a sigh, I accepted my fate. “Okay, Dad. I’ll see you then.”

  I dragged myself back to my bed and set my alarm for noon. My eyes closed a second later, and I fell asleep thankful I wouldn’t have time to think about how much I missed having Killian beside me in our bed.

  “You’re almost late. This isn’t like you, Tressa. Two months in Europe have changed you,” my father joked as I walked toward where he sat on the Stone Worldwide company plane.

  “I overslept.”

  Practically throwing myself into the leather seat, I looked over at him and noticed he wasn’t wearing a suit. My father always wore a suit for work. Always. As in every day he ever worked since I was born.

  “Why are you dressed like we’re going out for lunch? I thought this was a work trip.”

  He winked and gave me a sly smile. “I never said this was a work trip. Just a trip.”

  So he wanted to be cute. Okay. I liked seeing my father relaxed, so I’d play along. “I know it’s not for my birthday because then Ethan and Diana would be coming with us on this little trip, so what’s up?”

  “You’ll see. In the meantime, just sit back and take it easy. We’ll be there in a couple hours.”

  “Be where in a couple hours, Dad? Is Mom coming or is she already where we’re going?” I asked, utterly confused by his need to be so secretive.

  He shook his head and grinned like a little boy. “No, your mother isn’t coming and she isn’t going to be with us on this trip. This is just you and me. Now, no more questions or you’ll ruin this.”

  I was too exhausted even after nearly seven hours of sleep to verbally spar with him. Whatever he wanted to do on our father-daughter trip was fine with me. We didn’t have enough of these together, just the two of us.

  Looking out the car window, I wondered why Tampa had bumper-to-bumper traffic on a Sunday afternoon in early February. My father and I hadn’t talked much since landing and transferring to the limousine. He seemed deeply involved with some paperwork he’d brought along on our trip. Strange since he claimed this wasn’t a work trip, but my father seemed to work constantly all my life, so maybe it wasn’t odd.

  “This town is as bad as New York in the middle of the week. What’s going on here today?” I wondered aloud, hoping he’d take the bait and give me a clue as to what we were doing in Tampa, Florida, of all places.

  He didn’t look up from his papers but answered, “I used to be part owner of a club down here years ago around the time I met your mother.”

  “Is that where we’re going?” I asked, seizing upon his willingness to talk suddenly.

  Lifting his head, he smiled. “No. That wasn’t a place to take your daughter.”

  And that was it. He said nothing more, and I didn’t ask another question since I’d get nothing but riddles for answers. My father could be cute that way sometimes.

  Still groggy after traveling from a different continent, sleeping far too little, and then sleeping two hours on the flight there, I leaned back and closed my eyes. I’d never liked riding backwards in limos, but my father had insisted I sit opposite him, so being a dutiful daughter, I did as he wanted.

  The traffic thinned slightly, and then a few minutes later, the car stopped abruptly. I leaned over and looked out the windows, but the tinting made seeing much of anything difficult since the sun was already setting.

  “I guess we’re here?” I asked as a feeling of nervousness came over me suddenly. I didn’t know why, but something felt off.

  I pushed it out of my mind, though. Nothing could be wrong. I was traveling with my father.

  He stuffed his papers into a briefcase on the seat next to him and nodded. “We’re here. Ready?”

  “Ready? I have no idea where I am or what we’re doing. And by the way, I feel like I’m overdressed in this skirt and blouse since you’re in jeans and a polo shirt, Dad. You want to tell me what’s going on?”

  The car door opened, flooding the inside with the last remnants of daylight and warmth from the weather outside. I watched as my father got out and then followed him. It only took a few seconds to understand what he’d done.

  Instantly, my hands began to shake as nerves overtook my entire body. “Oh, Dad. No. This is a bad idea.”

  With that little boy grin of his, he shook his head. “Nonsense. Are you ready for some football?”

  I said nothing as every cell in my body screamed, “No!” I wasn’t ready for what he’d done.

  For two hours, I watched Killian and his team play, still not understanding much of what I was looking at. Yes, I knew what the pocket was, thanks to my brother and sister, but I spent most of the game watching Killian wherever he went on the field, when he moved to the sidelines, and when he ran into the tunnel for halftime. He looked like he always had. So full of life. When they were doing well, he smiled and seemed to command the entire field as if it were his own. When Pittsburgh came back to tie the score in the fourth quarter, his mannerisms changed and he grew serious, like a warrior bent on winning the battle.

  And then just as time began to run out, he threw a touchdown to Darius to win the game. The stadium went wild with people cheering, and for the first time, I understood why my father and siblings loved this game.

  Even more, I understood why so many people loved Killian. Watching him was exciting, and not only because I loved him. He looked like a god out on that field. No wonder he had so many adoring fans.

  I watched as his team basked in the glory of winning their first championship in years because of him. He stood proudly up on the stage rolled out onto the field after the game to accept his MVP award, thanking his teammates for helping him have the best season of his career. He spoke with humility and grace, and I couldn’t have been happier for him.

  My father sat quietly beside me in the box we now had to ourselves after the owner and his guests left for the post-game trophy presentation, and when it was all over and Killian and the team had left the field, he leaned in next to me and said, “So what did you think? He looked pretty incredible today, didn’t he?”

  Struggling to hold back the tears from the mixture of pride in Killian and sadness that I couldn’t share this important day with him, I nodded and said quietly, “He did. Thank you for bringing me here, Dad.”

  “You’re welcome, honey. I want to talk to Harold Canning, the owner of the team, but I won’t be long. You’ll be okay alone here for a little bit?”

  “Yeah. Go ahead. I’ll be fine.”

  Left to myself, I couldn’t deny the strong regret I had that after all that had happened, I wouldn’t get to share this with Killian. Did he have a new girlfriend? The mere thought made my chest tighten. Not that he didn’t deserve to have a woman to celebrate his big day with. He did. I just couldn’t help wish it had been me.

  I watched as the stadium emptied out and the workers began to clean where just a short while earlier nearly seventy thousand screaming fans had cheered on the two teams. Every so often, a player would walk out onto the field dressed in his street clothes, and I craned my neck to see if it was Killian.

  But it never was.

  He ha
d interviews to give and pictures to pose for. Knowing him, he loved every second of that, I thought to myself, smiling at how much an attention whore that man could be.

  I stared out at the field wishing I could get just one more glance at him. Behind me, I heard the door open. Reluctantly, I stood from my chair and grabbed my bag, wishing we didn’t have to leave yet.

  “Did you have a nice time talking to Mr. Canning?”

  “Well, he’s a pretty big fan of mine right now since I helped bring the championship home to him, but I told him I had someone else I needed to talk to tonight.”

  My heart skipped a beat. I knew that deep voice so full of confidence.

  Stunned, I spun around to see Killian standing there smiling at me like I was the most important part of his day. He looked so good in a simple pair of black pants and a white dress shirt. I’d almost forgotten on incredibly gorgeous he was.

  I couldn’t find the words to say how happy I was for him, so I stood there simply staring, filling my eyes with the vision of him after so long.

  “This reminds me of the first time we met. Remember? You didn’t seem to have much to say to me that night either.”

  I opened my mouth to say congratulations, but suddenly my emotions overwhelmed me and I burst into tears, sobbing, “That night I couldn’t stop thinking of how gorgeous you were. Tonight’s different because I want to tell you how happy I am for you but the words wouldn’t come.”

  He walked over to me and pulled me into his arms. “I’m so happy to see you, Tressa. I knew you were here, though. I felt it the whole time I was playing.”

  “My father told you he was bringing me here, didn’t he?” I asked against his chest, loving how safe I felt in his arms again.

  “No. He kept that a secret until a few minutes ago. I just knew you were here, though. I can’t explain it, but I felt it the whole game.”

  I looked up at him and quickly moved to wipe under my eyes. “I’m sorry for being such a blubbering fool. You know me. I’m not usually like this. I must look a mess. Nice. You win the championship and what do you get? Some woman crying and getting her mascara all over her face.”