“I’m glad I’m here, too.”
Spontaneously, I lean over and kiss his cheek. He catches my head and drags me closer, kissing me properly before he says, “Hmm. You taste like Pineapple.”
“So do you,” I assure him.
“And you,” he says. “I taste like you, Allie. And that’s a good thing.”
I’m smiling when he releases me and I head into the kitchen. Once I have a cinnamon flavored coffee brewing, I text Tyler: I tried to call you. I’d really like to meet and talk.
While I wait for a reply and the brewed coffee, I prepare two cups with a sweet cream flavored creamer from the fridge. Tyler hasn’t replied but my mother apparently texted me hours ago: Can you and Dash come for brunch tomorrow?
My mother is now asking for Dash. Isn’t that something? Oh, what an impression he’s made on her, and on me. I never took Brandon to meet my mother. But then, he was close to my father, and my mother wasn’t thrilled with my father being back in my life. I found out why the hard way.
But that was the dirty past. This is now. Dash is now. I fill our cups and rejoin him in the living room, noting his complete absorption in his work. Since I don’t want Dash to feel I’m looking over his shoulder, nor do I want to break his rhythm, I set my mug and phone at the opposite end of the coffee table. After which, I set his mug next to him and I don’t think he even knows which is good. He needs to write that book so the rest of us can read it.
I text my mother a reply of: He’s on deadline. I’m cracking the whip on him. If he makes word count, his reward will be your waffles.
My mother is not dissuaded: Tell him he can write over here while I read over his shoulder.
She and I exchange a few more messages before I settle in at my side of the coffee table and open my MacBook, with the intent of working, but my mind is on Tyler and Allison. Tyler still hasn’t replied to my message. It seems as if he’s done with me at this point, but that just feels off. He involved me in what happened last night. He had an agenda that involved me. But I did leave him high and dry on the house and the auction, or so he thinks.
I text him again: I’m not going to drop the ball on the auction. I’m committed to my commitment. Can we meet?
He replies with: My office, Monday morning, eight am.
I reply with: Can we talk sooner than later?
His answer is simple and fast: That is sooner than later.
I give up. He wants Monday. Monday it is. I set down my phone and sip my coffee. Dash glances at the coffee cup as if it’s just arrived, picks it up, and lifts it in my direction. “Thanks, baby.”
I smile and lift my cup to him. Dash stares at me a moment, his expression unreadable before he seems to force himself back to his work. If only I could crawl into his head and read his thoughts.
Turning my focus to my MacBook, I intend to key up my work email, but somehow, I end up on my iMessage, finding the text message Bella sent us earlier with the details on Allison’s Instagram. I click on the link and Allison’s page loads. I’m a bit stunned to discover thirty thousand followers and I’m eager to find out why. I’m also struck by just how pretty Allison is in the photo of her next to her Instagram name, “A southern girl and her cat.” Even more so when I scan down to the last photo posted, which is of her and her kitty. With long dark hair, and a complexion of ivory perfection, I decide Allison isn’t pretty. She’s beautiful. No wonder Tyler was enamored with her, and even broke his rules, about dating someone from the office to be with her.
She’s stunning.
And so is her kitty.
I click on the photo of her and her kitty, who is also a pretty girl with white fur and striking blue eyes, to read: Have you ever had one of those moments when you realize you like most animals more than most of the humans in your life? Humans often disappoint me, especially as of late. Animals never do. Animals don’t judge you or desert you. They don’t lie to you. They don’t ignore you. They will always be there for you, always love you, always be happy to see you. Love an animal today. I promise you, you’ll be loved in return. #Balinsekitty #Balinesecat #animals #bestfriendsareanimals
I stare at the post, reading it again, and I read the familiar heartbreak beneath the words. Someone hurt her. Someone betrayed her. And now, she’s gone. I’m not sure what to do with that.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
I glance up to find Dash focused on his computer, too much so for me to tell him what I’ve found out about Allison, which really isn’t that much at all anyway. I find myself curious about where she was before she was here in Nashville? Or was she always in Nashville? For some reason, I think no. Maybe she’s back home, wherever home is for her. What if she has no one to go home to? I think again. If I’d lost my mother, that would be me if something went wrong in New York. I shove away that thought. I’m not going to lose my mother. I’m not. She is over her cancer.
With my stomach in a knot, I grab my phone, and text my mother: Waffles and brunch, aside. How are you?
My attention is back on Allison’s Instagram feed. I decide to tab back through her past posts and read forward in an effort to get a feel for what changed for Allison between then and now. I find a post from a year ago. Allison is dressed in a sparkly black dress and her post reads: I’ve been in Nashville for only six months, but I already know that Nashville nights are exciting, wild, and always filled with something special. Tonight I have a formal work event and I have to tell you I’m feeling spoiled tonight in a dress and shoes by Gucci. I grew up in a humble home with a mother who was a nurse, and a father who was a computer programmer. I saved my money to go to the thrift store, and still go on occasion, there are deals to be found! Both of my parents are gone now, but I wish they could see me now. I’m thankful for new friends, fun nights, and so much more! Oh, and of course, my kitty, Mandy. What do you feel thankful for tonight?
Her parents are gone and that only makes her question to her readers all the more impactful. What do I feel thankful for?
I eye Dash, and warmth fills me. Everything with Dash feels different than anything I’ve experienced in the past. Every moment with him is exciting, passionate, fun. When has a man ever been fun to me? And every moment we’re together doesn’t feel like it has to be entertaining. I’m comfortable to just exist with him. More importantly, I realize, I’m comfortable with myself when I’m with Dash.
I glance at Allison’s post again and silently answer her question about what makes me thankful. I’m thankful Dash and I found our way back to each other after last night. I’m thankful for the opportunity to know him, even if it’s only for a few months. My phone buzzes with a text and I glance down to read my mother’s message: I’m fabulous honey. How are you? And how is Dash? :)
I smile and silently add to my prior proclamation: I’m thankful my mom is alive and well.
I must have said it out loud because Dash looks up. “Me, too, baby. Me, too.”
Never in my life, have I had anyone to share my fears and joys with, and my heart squeezes with the realization that right now, I do. “I didn’t mean to say it out loud. You were on a roll. I didn’t want to break that.”
He stretches. “I actually banged out a fast chapter.” He sips his coffee. “But I’m going back in. You okay?”
“Yes. My mom just texted me and asked about you. I think she’s obsessed with the idea of us.”
“Good.” He winks. “So am I.” His attention returns to his MacBook, and mine returns to a photo of Allison in workout gear, holding her kitty that reads: Mandy is a slave driver. I ran three miles today because she told me I was being lazy. I reminded her she sleeps all day. She snubbed her nose in the air. My reward for my run: I get to rub her head.
I smile at the silliness and decide two things: I like Allison and I want a cat. I wonder how Dash feels about cats?
The next post is of a man’s suit-clad arm, his strong hand holding a whiskey glass. He’s wearing a Rolex, and a titanium pinky ring that feels familiar but I can’t say w
hy. I don’t remember Tyler wearing one. Maybe it’s the “other” man? The post reads: Seduce me, drive me wild. Make me feel like I’m beautiful. A powerful, confident man has always been sexy to me, a seduction in his very existence. But when we’re too wrapped up in someone else’s power, we can’t find our own. I’ve learned I need my own. I’m taking my own. Own your power. I am mine. Don’t let someone else own it or you.
The post hits home all over again, and in a big way. It’s almost as if Allison is talking to me and I wonder how many of her followers feel the same? In my case, I know why I connect with her words. It’s really kind of right there in my face. I allowed a man to own me and I don’t even remember how I let it happen. I’d thought it was about the wealthy, powerful man I’d chosen to entangle myself with, but I’d been wrong. Dash is far more wealthy, famous, successful, and yes, powerful. It’s not about what someone has, but the character of that person.
Lesson learned.
Don’t judge all by one. Well, two. My ex and my father.
I shove aside my personal baggage. It’s not me I’m worried about now. It’s Allison and I’m trying to process what her posts have told me. She’s not from Nashville. She was burned and hints at feeling powerless, but now she’s owning her power. Is that why she left? Or is that why someone made her disappear?
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Hungry for more information about Allison, I begin scanning her Instagram again, and my attention lands on an entry dated September first, almost two months ago. The post is another beautiful photo of Allison and her kitty, but what I’m hungry for are her words, and the look they give me into her life. I start reading, moving from one post to the next, always eager for what I’ll discover. One particular entry catches my attention, the photo includes a man in a suit with his head cut off, almost as if Allison is intentionally hiding his identity, which of course, she is. Her words to accompany it read: “I’ve never” is how I start every sentence that involves him. I’ve never known a man quite as striking as he. I’ve never known a man who walks into the room and my heart races, butterflies fluttering in my belly. Without him, I am lost. With him, I am found. And yet, he stands alone.
I read the passage over and over again, coming to the conclusion that Allison and I differ, at least for now, in one way. She was in love with a man who rejected her. And I fear that I am falling in love, with a man who is pulling me close now, but will soon do the same to me. I stare at the photo, trying to see the man in the photo as the man I believe him to be: Tyler. It’s impossible to know though, but everything inside me screams his name. I saw the pain in his expression over the necklace gifted by another man. I saw sadness. I saw regret.
And yet, she’s not with that other man either. Unless Tyler and this other man, the one who gifted the necklace, are not the only two men in her life.
Dash is suddenly with me, settling on the floor beside me, the earthy male scent of him drawing me in, much like the man in the suit did Allison.
“Hey,” he says softly. “You’re absorbed in your work I see.” His gaze lands on my computer screen and shifts sharply back to me. “You’re obsessed with her.”
“I just feel connected to her, Dash. We share a name. We share the same job. We’ve lived in the same house. Plus, she has a cat, and I’ve been wanting a cat. She was in a bad relationship that took over her life and she lost her parents, which hits home because I’m terrified of losing my mother.”
“And you know all of this how?”
I indicate my MacBook screen. “Her Instagram.”
“You’ve been reading her Instagram for the past two hours?”
Two hours? I think, frowning. Have I? I glance at the clock, stunned to realize that apparently, it has been two hours. “I guess I have,” I say. “I suppose my resignation and inability to talk to Tyler and work things out, has me a bit confused on what to do with the auction. Tyler did agree to a meeting, but not until Monday morning, no sooner. I tried. It was all done by text message. He won’t take my calls.”
Dash studies me, just studies me, seconds ticking by, and just when I can’t take it anymore, he says. “People obsessed with other people’s lives, aren’t happy with their own.”
“It’s not about being unhappy.” I cover his hands with mine and close my fingers around him, holding on. “It’s about the role she played, to bring me right here, to you. She made my life better, Dash. And after last night’s break-in, I can’t help but have her on my mind.”
There’s a beat before he says, “Tyler and I need to have a little chat anyway, about a lot of things. He may well know where she’s at and why she left. That would end your worry for Allison.”
He pushes off the ground and sits on the couch, removing his phone from his pocket, but before he can punch in Tyler’s number I warn, “He won’t answer.” I try to get up only to fall back down. Dash offers me his hand and helps me up and I sit next to him. “He wouldn’t take my calls but when I texted him a promise that I won’t desert the charity, he changed his tone. I think.”
“You think?”
I grab my phone and tab to the messages and then offer Dash my phone. “It’s easier if you read it yourself.”
Dash accepts my phone, glances at the exchange, his lips pressing together as he does, his disapproval evident before he hands it back to me. “As I said, he and I need to have a little chat, sooner than later.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means he’s playing one of his typical head games.”
I don’t know what that means, but I don’t doubt he’s accurate. This is Tyler we’re talking about.
He tabs through his phonebook and hits Tyler’s number, but of course, Tyler won’t answer. Only he does. And quickly. “Tyler,” Dash says dryly. “I think we both know we need to talk.”
Tyler replies with something, and Dash says. “Hmm yes. I’m sure my best interest is exactly what you have in mind. I’ll see you there.” He disconnects. “I’m going to see him.”
I settle back on my knees in front of him, and my hands settle on his legs. “Because of me?”
“Because of him, but I will I make my position on you clear, yes.”
“Which is what?”
“I won’t have him use you to get to me. You’re off-limits.”
“I can handle myself, you know that, right?”
His hands cover my hands. “You also shouldn’t have to navigate the shit show between me and him. That’s wrong. Besides, my working relationship with Tyler is becoming too fucking much to manage.” He stands and takes me with him again. “When I get back, how about dinner and a movie here at the apartment? Chinese maybe?”
“That sounds perfect,” I say. “Yes. Please. Are you going to fire Tyler?”
“I already fired Tyler. The next step is to leave Hawk Legal and that means I fire my sister. And her commission is the only way I can give her my money. She won’t take it otherwise. The problem is that Tyler’s smart enough to figure that out. He believes I’m stuck with him, which gives him the license to pull last night’s stunt. He forgets how resourceful I am. Where’s the necklace?”
“My purse, why? Are you going to take it to Tyler?”
“I’m going to show it to Tyler again. You said he blinked when he saw it. Let’s see if he’ll blink again.”
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
A few minutes later, we’re in the closet, sitting on a stool, the necklace box in my hand, as he changes into jeans, a black T-shirt, and black biker-style boots. Dash pulls on a sleek black leather jacket and says, “I’ll be back as fast as I can.”
I push to my feet and reluctantly offer him the necklace, which somehow feels like letting go of a piece of myself. He slides it into the pocket inside his jacket and folds me close. “Instead of sitting in front of the computer, why don’t you look around your new home?”
It’s an obvious invitation to be nosey, his way of telling me he has nothing to hide. I’ve found his secrets already. Only, I’m
not sure if that’s true. His real secret, or secrets, amount to what really drives him to fight. And I can only hope that one day he’ll trust me enough to share that with me. “I’ll be sure to dig in your underwear drawer. That’s where all secrets are kept.”
His lips curve. “Is that right?”
“Of course it’s right, though, on second thought, I think I’ll just work on the charity event. I’d prefer you tell me your secrets, not Tyler, and not your underwear drawer.”
His jaw grits. “My underwear drawer would be more accurate than Tyler. Remember that.”
I wrap my arms around him. “Don’t let him get to you, Dash.”
“He’ll be hard hit to get to me today, Allie. I have you here waiting on me, in our home.”
My heart softens. “Dash,” I whisper.
He kisses me. “See you soon, cupcake. And try to stop obsessing over Allison. Obsess over me.”
“That’s an easy request to grant.”
“Prove it when I get home. I’ll lock up as I leave.” He winks and releases me, disappearing outside of the closet. I follow him and catch up to watch him exit the front door. I’m alone in his apartment. Okay, our apartment. That’s trust. That’s an invitation to really be a part of his life. And all of this, after what I saw last night.
Allison left this life behind. She clearly had nothing enticing her into staying. She didn’t know the appeal of staying around for Dash Black, but I do.
For this reason, I fully intend to do as I’ve promised Dash by working on the charity auction, but when I sit down at the kitchen island with a glass of wine, I’m back on Instagram. There’s a photo of Allison, holding her cat on her shoulder. Her comments read: In life, we find good days and we find bad days. We find laughter, but there is also heartache, sorrow, and loss. We feel confident and beautiful and then awkward, confused, insecure, and vulnerable. In my life, I’ve found only one friend who loves me just as much on my good days as on my bad days. That’s my girl, Mandy. If you don’t know the unconditional love of an animal, consider finding out. That kind of love can change your life. Four Paws, a charity I volunteer for and love, is having an adoption day on Halloween. Please consider taking home a furry child that day.
Because I Can Page 6