Summer Heat

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Summer Heat Page 54

by Carly Phillips


  “Well, happy belated birthday. I have some papers from your aunt’s will that we need to go over. It seems that Shelley wanted to give you half of her things on your eighteenth birthday and the rest on your twenty-fifth. A lot of people are doing that now,” Veronica explains.

  I sigh. “Veronica, I don’t mean to be rude, but can we just go over the papers? I just want to get this over with.”

  She laughs. “Oh, Blake, I wish you’d come intern for us. You’re my kind of girl.” Her brown eyes search my face before continuing. “Your aunt left you a key to a safety deposit box as well as two more properties. These are plots of land. She also left you more money; I assume to cover the taxes for the land for a while. You just have to sign off on everything, and you can be on your way.”

  I’m totally dumbfounded. Shelley and I lived such a frugal life. I would have never known she had so much money.

  “Are you okay?” Veronica asks, seeing my blank stare.

  “Yes, I just...I would have never known that Shelley had so much money,” I reply honestly.

  “Yeah, well, some people don’t like to flaunt what they have. I personally think if you’ve got it, use it while you’re alive. It’s no good to you once you’re dead—especially if you don’t have kids to hand it down to. Thankfully, your aunt had you to leave it for.”

  I smile weakly and start signing the deed to the land. She hands me the safety deposit key in an envelope, and I thank her as I leave. As I wait for the elevator, I open the envelope in my hands. There’s a letter from Aunt Shelley along with a key.

  Blake,

  This is going to be a lot to take in, so you may want to sit down to read this.

  When the elevators open I snap the letter shut and look up. My heart drops when I find the sky-blue eyes that terrorize my nights watching me intently. I take a moment to assess his face again, slowly this time. He looks about forty years old, give or take. His blond hair is slicked back; he has light blond hair that sprinkles his jaw. His nose is long and straight and his eyes—those sky-blue eyes. I’ve dreamt of finding him and asking him questions for so long, but now that I have him in front of me, I don’t think I can bear to know the answers.

  “Mr. Lewis,” I say as I extend a shaky hand to greet him. “I’m Blake Brennan. I’m a friend of Aimee’s.”

  I watch as his eyes widen before he finally sticks his hand in mine, I feel as if he’s reaching into my heart and turning the knife that’s been there for the past twenty-one years.

  “It’s about time we formally meet, Blake,” he replies as he examines every inch of my face. “Would you like to step into my office? I have a couple of minutes to kill.”

  My eyes widen at his choice of words, but I nod in agreement.

  I pull out my phone as we reach his office door and send Cole a text message that says I’m thinking about him. If I die, I want him to know that. I wish I could have sent him one that said I love you, but I’m not that positive that I’m going to die.

  Mark’s office is massive. He has a huge cherry wood desk in the middle of the room, a bookshelf to the left, a bar to the right with barstools, and an amazing view of the river and city behind him. The decor screams grandeur.

  “Have a seat, Blake,” he says as he shrugs off his jacket and tosses it on a barstool. He misses it by a long shot, so it lands on the floor. I suppress the urge to pick it up and place it on a seat in front of his desk. He goes over to the bar and asks me if I want a drink. I shake my head no and watch as he pours himself some single malt scotch. Maybe I should have said yes.

  “How are you?” he asks, searching my face.

  I’m not sure my vocal cords will cooperate and reply.

  I open my mouth a couple of times and finally clear my throat. “I’m...fine. How are you?” I ask in a confused tone.

  “Good. How’s law school?” he asks, watching me intently.

  This would be a good time to use my poker face. I take a deep breath and pray that I have a poker face to play with.

  “How’d you know I was in law school?” I ask evenly.

  “You said you’re a friend of Aimee’s. I assume you know her from school. That girl doesn’t have a social life outside of school. I’m assuming you have some questions for me?” he asks raising an eyebrow.

  I take a deep breath as he takes a sip of his drink and can no longer wait to ask him the one question that’s been tormenting me for the past thirteen years. “Did you kill my father?” I ask quietly.

  He chokes on his drink and coughs a couple of times. “Wha...What? I meant questions about your estates. What are you talking about?” he sputters.

  “Sorry,” I say as my phone starts ringing. I look down and see Cole’s name on my screen before I send it to voicemail. “That was an awkward thing to ask, but I know who you are.”

  He clears his throat. “No, Blake. You don’t know who I am. If you did, you would not ask me a question like that. My job is to put criminals behind bars. Why would I kill someone?”

  I feel the walls of my throat starting to close in, and I urge any stupid tears to stay away. “Can you tell me what happened to him?” I whisper brokenly.

  The question makes his face crumble. He recovers his composure quickly, and I know that if I wasn’t looking for a thousand truths in his eyes, I would have missed it.

  “I don’t know what you mean, Blake. Who is your father?” he asked, surely in the voice he uses on his clients.

  “Mr. Lewis, I know you’re the man that took me from my house when I was little. I don’t know why you did it, but I’m sick of not knowing who I am. Did you kill him or not?” I ask boldly.

  “I already told you that I don’t kill people,” he spits angrily before getting up to pace his office. “I don’t have any information for you, Blake. I suggest you save your energy and stop poking your nose around in places. You may find something that you don’t like. Trust me, I learned the hard way.”

  I tilt my head to scrutinize him. “What are you talking about? You’re one of the best attorneys in Chicago.”

  “Yes, I am. That doesn’t mean I’m not paying for my past. Please—just let it go. You’ve done well for yourself.”

  “You say that as if it’s easy,” I mutter under my breath before I realize what he just told me. “How do you know what kind of life I’ve lived? Have you been watching me?” I ask horrified.

  “I’ve been keeping an eye on you, yes,” he sighs. “It’s for your own good. Can I trust you to keep this to yourself, Blake? I have a meeting in five minutes and one hell of a week in front of me. I can’t have this weighing on my mind right now.”

  I laugh sarcastically. “I would hate to be a burden on your conscience, Mark. Your secret is safe with me. I still have questions, though.”

  “Blake, do you know the saying, ‘curiosity killed the cat?’” he asks and waits for me to nod. “In this case, curiosity kills everybody except the cat. Trust me, it hurts more that way. For the sake of the people you love, let it go.”

  “Well, Mark, lucky for me, I don’t love anybody,” I huff.

  He looks at me with a raised eyebrow. “Sure about that, Blake?”

  His response makes my breath falter. I do love somebody, I love five somebodies, and I’m scared as hell to lose them. I turn and open the door to let myself out. I have to get out of here before I choke this man. He freaking knows what happened, and he thinks it’s a joke. I feel tears of anger pooling my eyes, but I won’t let him see them. I close the door quietly behind me, and I don’t stop walking until I’m back in the parking garage of my building. I turn on my car, and as I pull out of the parking garage to go home, Coldplay’s “Fix You” comes on the radio.

  When you lose something you can’t replace.

  When you love someone, but it goes to waste.

  Could it be worse?

  Cue the goddamn tears. Damn Chris Martin and his ability to make me cry every time he opens his damn mouth.

  When I get to my apartment, I c
all out for Aubry, but he’s not home. I go straight to my room and take out my cell phone. Ten missed calls. Three from Russell, five from Cole, one from Becky, and one from Aubry. I sort through my text messages and see one from Aimee and one from Cole. Aimee’s is to ask me how it went with Mark. I reply quickly saying it went well. Cole’s message simply says: I’m always thinking about you. I get butterflies and smile at my screen before calling Russell.

  “Hey, babe,” he says with his sexy accent.

  “Hey, sorry I didn’t call back earlier.”

  “No, that’s fine. How did your meeting go?”

  “It went well. I think I’m coming down with something, though. I don’t feel well at all,” I groan.

  “Oh? Do you want me to come over and bring you some soup?” he asks concerned.

  “No, thank you. I think I’m just going to sleep it off. I’ll call you in the morning.”

  I text message Aubry and Becky. I let Aubry know I’m home and going to take a nap. I tell Becky I’ll call her back tomorrow because I’m not feeling well. This should buy me enough time to read the letter from Shelley. I call Cole back because he won’t accept a simple text message, and I really need to hear his voice right now.

  “Hello?” he answers on the second ring. He sounds like he’s out of breath.

  “Hey, were you working out?” I ask.

  “Uh...no, what’s up?” he replies clearing his throat. I hear a woman say something to him in the background that I can’t make out. “Hold on a sec,” he says to me and puts the phone down. I hear his muffled voice, talking to who I assume must be Erin. He sounds like he’s trying to calm her down. Then I hear her scream, “You picked up the phone in the middle of fucking me! Who the fuck are you talking to?” That’s when I hang up and run to the bathroom to throw up my breakfast, since that’s all I’ve eaten all day. I was already feeling a little queasy from the mixture of not eating, Shelley’s letter, and my encounter with Mark, but Cole answering the phone in the middle of...oh my god, I feel sick again. I sit on the cold tile next to the toilet, clutching my stomach for a few minutes.

  I try to reason that he wasn’t thinking when he answered the phone. It’s normal for us to drop everything and tend to one another. He didn’t mean to let me know what he was doing. I’m thinking all of this, but none of it makes me feel any better about the situation. The visual is already there, silently plaguing me. Now all I can think about is his hands holding her face as he kisses her softly. His lips on her skin. His body rocking against hers as he whispers how beautiful she is. I shut my eyes tightly and cover my ears with my hands. I can’t deal with the thought. I can’t. I can’t think about him with somebody else anymore. I know I have no right to feel this way, but I can’t help it. The thought of him with another woman has been bothering the hell out of me lately.

  I get up and press my palms to the counter. I look at my reflection, and I realize I look the way I feel—like death. My white frilly blouse is half tucked out of my navy blue pencil skirt. My clothes are wrinkled, my makeup is running, and my eyes are red. I have little freckles around my eyes from my convulsive vomit.

  I laugh at myself. I can’t believe it took that to make me vomit. Why would he answer the phone in the middle of sex? I groan. The thought alone makes me hover over the toilet seat again. I need to hold it together. This is stupid, I tell myself repeatedly as I brush my teeth. When I finally get in the shower, I turn on the water and sit on the floor sobbing as I let the water wash away my sorrows. All the memories that usually haunt my nights have been brought to light, and I’m not sure where to go from here. I see three missed calls from Cole and decide to send him a text saying I’ll talk to him tomorrow and apologize for calling. I quickly turn off my phone and toss it aside before opening the letter from Shelley.

  Blake,

  This is going to be a lot to take in, so you may want to sit down to read this. I’m sorry that I couldn’t give you any of the answers you needed when you were with me. You were so young, and I couldn’t for many reasons that you wouldn’t understand. There is a lot more to your life than you realize. You will find out some things—if you haven’t already—that will make you doubt everything. Please doubt everything—just don’t let those things define you. You must be careful who you trust. I just want the best for you. I know you’re doing great things. I always knew you would make a difference in this world. This last part is very difficult for me to tell you even though I am no longer physically present. It may be harder because of that since I cannot defend my actions. I know you will hate me for this. I just hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me one day. If not, know that I’m very sorry and that I’ve always loved you very much.

  Here I go... I’m not your aunt. Your mother and I spoke every day, and she sent me photos of you all the time. Sometimes, she would even bring you to visit me. I loved you with all my heart from the time you were born. The things I left for you in the safety deposit box are yours to do with as you please. I use Mark as your attorney for a reason; please do not question that. Mark is a good man and has your best interests at heart. If you ever need anything, he’ll be there for you. Maggie—Mrs. Parker—was also a friend of mine and your mother’s. I knew she would take good care of you. I know she did an amazing job with you. I’m sure you haven’t been able to find out much about your past—if you’ve looked. Not many people know the truth about what happened that night. I never knew the full story.

  The name your parents gave you is Catherine Blake Brennan. I’m only giving you this bit of information so that you can continue your search for the truth. I hope I’m not hurting you more than I am helping you. Please don’t use that name—trust me on that. Burn this letter when you’re finished reading it.

  I love you, Blake. Please don’t forget that.

  Love,

  Shelley

  I sit stunned for a few seconds until the letter drops from my shaking hands. I try to fill my lungs with air, but I feel as though whatever air they had left vanished with my identity. I gasp for air a couple of times and bring my face between my knees until I calm myself down. I look at the time. 4:23. I wipe my face and take a couple of deep breaths before turning my phone back on.

  I don’t check to see who the voice messages I have are from. I call my boss, Gina, and request the week off. I need time to think, and if I’m going to find out what is in that box, I need this week off. I’m sure she heard my broken voice because she didn’t bother sounding upset about my being away for a week. Not that I mattered there; I’m just a measly intern.

  I’m not sure if I should stay here or book a trip and go somewhere—far away from all of this madness. I don’t even know where to go though. Maybe I’ll call Becky and Greg and pay them a visit. There are three loud knocks on my door. The code.

  “Blake?” Aubry shouts. “Are you sleeping?”

  I cleared my throat. “Yes,” I shout back.

  “Let me in,” Aubry says firmly.

  “Go away, Aub.”

  “Cole’s on the phone. He needs to speak to you.”

  “Tell him to go fuck himself,” I say brokenly. “Or Erin,” I mutter under my breath. I try for angry because I should be angry that he answered the phone like that, he should have known how much it would hurt me, but I’m too lost to feel anger.

  “He says he’s sorry. He’s begging you to talk to him. Blake, I don’t have all day. I have a date. I can’t be playing messenger.”

  “Don’t then. Tell him I’ll call him tomorrow. I need to be alone right now. Please.”

  I hear Aubry relay my message to Cole as he walks away. I hear him walk back to my door a couple of seconds later, and he knocks again. This time I get up and let him in. When he looks at me, his face falls. He wraps his arms around me and holds me as I slowly let myself fall.

  “What happened? Is it because of whatever Cole is apologizing for? Or did you have a nightmare while you were napping?” he asks concerned.

  “No, it’s not
him. I had a nightmare while I was awake,” I say, sniffling back my snot.

  “Oh. You mean you’re remembering things?”

  “No, I mean I’m living them,” I say with a trembling chin as I wipe my tears. “I went to the attorney’s office today, and I found out some things I can’t talk about. On top of that, Shelley left me a key to a safety deposit box, more money, more land, and a letter. I haven’t been to the box, but the letter pretty much says that my life is a lie. She wasn’t even my aunt,” I choke out the last words and Aubry pulls me into a tight hug.

  “Shit. That’s...fuck...I’m sorry.”

  “I’m so scared, Aubry,” I say hoarsely.

  “You’ll be okay, Cowboy. I’m with you. We’re all with you,” he says, kissing my cheek lightly.

  “That’s what scares me,” I whisper.

  Chapter Six

  Past

  I was doing well my first year of high school. I had joined the cheerleading squad; it was the closest thing to dance that the school had. I had been dancing since I was five when Aunt Shelley started taking me to classes, and I missed it. Becky was also part of the squad, so I was glad that we had something to bond over. I liked my new home with Maggie, Aubry, and Cole. They made me feel like I belonged. Becky had already warned me about Cole and his womanizing ways—as if I needed a warning about that. Anybody that stepped within five feet of Cole could smell it on him. He may as well have a scent made named Gigolo. I’d lived with him for three months, and although he stopped hitting on me after the first month, I’d witnessed twelve girls walk through the doors of the house. Twelve. That was one for each week that I’d been here.

  In the beginning, it really bothered me. I wasn’t sure if it was because it meant that I no longer had his attention or because the girls he hooked up with annoyed me. It was probably both. The worst part was I wasn’t even interested in him. Well, that was a lie—I may have been a little interested in him. As hard as I tried to fight it, it was hard not to be drawn to him. He was magnetic. When he was in a room with you, he consumed you. When he left the room, you mourned the loss of his presence. I knew I wasn’t the only person that felt this way. I had him in a couple of my classes in school, and when he got in trouble and was sent to the principal’s office, everybody acted like they lost a pet. The girls pouted and whined, which annoyed the shit out of me. The guys complained to the teacher and slumped their shoulders.

 

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