“Yes, I do. I’m sorry. This is just all happening so fast.”
“Well, you’ll have a chance to slow down at my condo.” He took her bag, which was heavy. “What’s in here?”
Atlanta chuckled. “Everything, including my book.”
He figured that. Just the mere mention of it had his stomach all tied up in knots. But he decided during their closing up to tell her tonight, about his duel identity. No more putting it off, and no more distractions. This had gone far enough.
As Kate and Joe pointed out, she was already part of the Ringside family. The crew had never taken to anyone so fast. They liked her and knew something hot and heavy was going on between him and her. Probably because she was the first woman he allowed to hang around the restaurant with him, that and the way he couldn’t stop touching her.
Kate and Joe had offered to come with him for support. But he turned them down, much to their relief. It was enough he had to confess to something Atlanta would view as a major deceit. He didn’t need an audience to witness the blow-up.
He took his eyes off the road long enough to glance over at Atlanta in the passenger seat. She stared out the window. “What’s got your attention?” he asked.
“The night sky. I love a clear night. You can see the stars. This was such a beautiful day. It only seems appropriate that it’s a beautiful night.”
Groan.
They arrived at his place in no time. He only lived ten minutes away from his restaurant. “Me casa es su casa. Welcome to my pad.” He shut off the engine and grabbed her stuff as well as his.
“This is nice,” Atlanta said looking up at the building as she got out of the car.
“The best is yet to come.”
They walked into the lobby and were greeted by the night security. After an exchange of good evenings, they got on the elevator and Hank used an electronic key before he touched the button that said PH1.
“Wow. Penthouse. I didn’t think Santa Rosa had places like this.”
“Oh?”
“Don’t get me wrong. I just thought everything would be adobe architecture, fewer floors, more casual, less city like.”
He shrugged. “It’s true, there are not many like this here.” When they reached his floor, the elevator opened directly into the entryway of his penthouse. Straight ahead was a huge mural with a western theme, complete with cowboys on horses.
“Very cool.” She ran to the first chair she saw, “Ahhh.” She sat down, kicked off her shoes and rubbed her foot. “Sorry about that. Didn’t mean to be so rude.”
“It’s all right, no need to apologize.” He put their stuff down on a heavy marble coffee table. “You wanna know a secret?”
“Ooh, what?”
“When I first opened the grill, I was standing all day and my legs were killing me the next morning. You would think I would have been in better shape from boxing. But in boxing, I moved all the time. So, standing in one spot for any period of time wreaked havoc on my calves and thighs, for the first few days.”
“Good, I don’t feel so bad now.”
“Come on, let’s get that bath going.”
He helped her up and led her to his bedroom. “You can have a seat on the bed. I need to run your bath, then get your towels and things.”
“Huge bed!” she exclaimed.
“Hey, no whippy furniture for me,” he said stepping into the bathroom. He got the water started first then picked up the mess he’d left this morning. He didn’t want Atlanta to see what a slob he was.
After he was done, he shut off the water and returned to his bedroom. “Okay lady, I…” She was stretched out on his bed, her eyes were closed, and her chest rose and fell softly in slumber.
He stood beside the bed looking down at her form. Yeah, she was beat.
Holding her around the waist, he tried to move her slowly up on the bed, so her head would be on the pillows, without waking her. “Mmm,” she moaned.
He stopped.
“Hank?”
“Sorry, baby, I didn’t mean to wake you.”
“That’s okay.” She sat up on her elbows and patted the space beside her. “Come sit down.”
He did — cautiously.
She wrapped her arms around him and laid them both down on the bed. “I just want to tell you what a wonderful man you are.”
“Huh?”
“You have made my journey such a pleasurable one. And, I might add, a great learning experience. You reminded me how much I enjoyed cooking. You know coming here was the best…no I take that back. Meeting you was the best thing that happened. Here I was looking for Miss Grimes and as luck would have it, I met someone who knows her and has read her books. This trip turned out to be terrific!” She began kissing him all over his face.
“Hey, what about your bath?”
“I can take that after.”
“After what?”
“After this.” She kissed his neck, and unbuttoned his shirt at the same time. When she had it off, she rubbed her hands down his bared chest.
Aww hell.
Hank got lost in all the kissing. Atlanta was acting very frisky. Even though she was complaining about how tired she was, it seemed she’d gotten a second wind.
He took her tightly in his arms, feeling her nipples harden against his chest. His hands traveled down her back and settled on her ass, cupping and squeezing, and pushing her against his harden cock.
“I want you to know that I care about you more than I’ve cared for anyone in a long, long time.” He paused. “No matter what happens with us, I want you to know that.”
“I care about you too, Hank.”
He devoured her lips, taking and giving her air. He guided her farther up on the bed until her head rested against the headboard. He released his hold on her to reach in his end table and pull out a foil pack. Atlanta used the time to remove her top and bra, and help him out of his shirt before moving to unsnap her pants. But he was in a hurry, and moved her hands aside to finish the job for her. No more slow striptease act tonight. He felt a desperation the like he’d never known. By the time the last piece of clothing hit the floor, he was in her.
“Oh Hank!” He could feel her nails digging into his skin, like she held on for dear life, urging him on while he plunged in and out of her. He lifted her legs and slung them over each shoulder, pounding into her like a man going to the gallows.
Much to her credit she took all that he gave and then some.
After an eternity of him ravishing her, he felt her clench around him. The pleasure nearly brought tears to his eyes.
He moved her legs to the bed and bent down to touch his lips to hers, moving faster and deeper, until he sank so deeply into her, they both screamed their release and he collapsed in her arms.
After a few moments to catch their breaths, he placed his hands on the sides of her face and kissed her eyelids as she closed them. Her head turned, she relaxed back into the pillow and her breathing slowed. “I could love you,” he whispered too low for her to hear as he watched her drift into sleep. So sweet, innocent and trusting.
She didn’t deserve a louse like him.
Chapter Twelve
Atlanta woke up to the chirping of a very loud bird. Opening one eye, she peeked around the room, searching for the source of the noise. A very colorful feathered friend perched on the windowsill. She found it amazing, how so much racket could come out of a body so small.
She pushed herself up in the bed, yawned and stretched. If she thought she was sore before, she was downright raw now. She swung her legs over the side of the bed, wincing at the movement, and saw her bag and other clothes on the chair in the corner. As she carefully walked over to them, she noticed a note on the end table.
Baby- Hope you don’t mind, but went to your hotel early this morning and grabbed a few items I thought you might need. By the way, you have new bath water since you didn’t get a chance to use it last night. XXOO.
Atlanta smiled to herself. Last night was something. Not much w
as said through words, but boy! The man was a love machine.
She went straight to the bathroom and jumped in the tub. God! She needed this yesterday. She slid down some more and got a good soak.
After all the heat left the water, she got out and dressed in the clothes Hank left out for her before heading downstairs. When she reached the living area she heard Hank’s voice, coming from another room off to the side. He seemed to be talking in hushed tones, at least hushed by his standards because his voice was so deep. And even though she couldn’t make out what he was saying, she could tell it was a heated conversation, probably another vendor.
To give him privacy and kill time, she decided to take a tour of the place. She’d had no time for it last night.
As she wandered around, she got a hint of his design style. It was modern, minimalism. Very clean and simple. Not a lot of color, mostly steel gray, black and white with a touch of red. She finally made her way to what she believed, judging by the wall-to-wall books, to be the library. The library however was a different story.
It was like walking into the library at Princeton. The room was done in dark wood. The little wallpaper she could see was a deep forest green. The two couches where dark brown leather and tufted. In the back corner of the room sat two matching wingback chairs. The desk looked heavy, like something Rockefeller would have.
As she stood in the middle of the room, she looked around at all the bookcases and books. One bookshelf held more boxing memorabilia than the others—and his championship belts! She headed straight for them; she’d never seen boxing belts up close and in person. They were beautiful—in a gaudy sort of way.
She moved on, paying attention to his reading material. You can really tell something about a guy from what he reads—or doesn’t.
Wow! He had all of Miss Grimes’ books. He had more than one copy of some. She scanned the shelves and noticed other books. The Art Of Writing. Grammar 101. Writers Block—How To Keep From Drinking When It Happens.
She cocked her head at something else that looked strange, about half a dozen plain brown covered books. She pulled one out. The cover had a familiar title but it said unedited copy, and the author was Hannah Grimes.
Did he know her that well that she gave these to him? But what about those writing books. She got a sour feeling in her stomach. She flipped through the pages and found hand written notes in the margins, and crossed out paragraphs initialed HG.
After seeing those initials, a logical conclusion would have been, HG—Hannah Grimes. However, Atlanta has seen Hank’s handwriting on some invoices in his office at the grill. His scrawl was so bad no two people could have it.
Hank Gaines/Hannah Grimes. They were one in the same.
Atlanta’s body began to shake. No! Her heart screamed. Not him. It couldn’t be. But her mind said otherwise. This was beyond a lie. This was total deception. And worse yet, he used her. From the beginning when he saw her with his book, he played on that! Was he laughing at how easy it was to pick her up, using lines from his own book, on her?
She snatched several copies of the unedited versions of the books and stormed into the living area.
“Good morning, Atlanta,” Hank said as he hung up the phone. “Did you have a nice soak in the tub? I was just ab….”
She threw all but one of the copies at him. “Can you explain those?”
Hank looked down at the books at his feet, then back up at her. He shook his head. “I…I don’t know if I can explain, but I’ll try.” He took a step toward her; she backed away.
“Don’t come near me! I can’t believe this! I…I don’t know what to say. You bastard! You used me. I slept with you, you had me cook and give you recipes for your grill! You made me think I finally found a direction for my life, that I was going to meet this woman!” She still held one of the books in her hand and shook it at him.
“I bet she doesn’t even exist, probably some picture you pulled off the Internet.”
“She did exist,” he said quietly. “She was my grandmother.”
“Your…I don’t believe that. I can’t believe anything you say!” She ran upstairs.
As soon as she reached his bedroom, she began gathering her things. Thank God, they drove her car.
“Atlanta wait!” Hank grabbed her by the arm. She turned around and socked him in the eye.
“Oww!”
“Don’t touch me! I don’t want those filthy hands on me. I never want to see or hear from you again. In fact, all those books I have, I’m burning them. Nothing but a bunch of crap and I’ll go to the press about you too. It’s all crap like you. That will teach you. Playing with people’s emotions and using them when they’re most vulnerable! For what? Just to sell books. You won’t get a chance to hurt anyone else.”
She grabbed all her bags and ran out the room. She heard him yell behind her but she didn’t care. She kept running until she was out the front door and got in the already opened elevator.
Once she got through the lobby and outside, she ran to her car and threw her belongings in. As she started it up, she heard Hank’s voice in the background pleading for her to wait, to listen. Listen to what? More lies?
She drove off as fast as she could. She would immediately check out of the hotel. His hotel. She would call her sisters and tell them what a fool she’d been. She needed them now; they’d understand. She could always count on them. This was a mistake, just another mistake in a long line of them. She was going back to Dallas.
Chapter Thirteen
“I fucked up man, there’s no other way to put it,” Hank managed to say his heart heavy, his throat barely able to get the words out.
“This isn’t the time for blame,” Joe said on the other end of the phone. “What you need to do is go after her, sit her down and explain everything from the beginning.”
“I tried…”
“Yeah, while in the heat of the moment, she wasn’t feeling you then man. Give her a day. From what you told us, she’s very close to her sisters. She’s probably with them now cursing you every which way from Sunday.”
“And I deserve it.”
“Yes, but you’ve been punished enough. I know this is your time off, but come in anyway and maybe Kate and I can help you with a plan.”
“Thanks, man.”
“Hey, we kinda liked her too.”
When Hank arrived at the grill, he barely acknowledged his patrons. His thoughts focused on all the things he’d done wrong as he headed straight for his office. Kate and Joe were waiting for him—with hugs.
“Do you know what area of Dallas she lives in?” Kate asked pulling away from him. “Did she mention anything else about herself and her family during your talks?”
“Oh shit! No…wait! She did say she lived in a new condo development near this hotel called…Mansion on Turtle Creek!”
“Why don’t you check online and see if you can locate an address for her?” Kate said.
“That’s not a bad idea.” Hank booted up his computer and did an address search in the Dallas area for an Atlanta Reese. He found two that were promising, and both were near the hotel.
“I’m booking a flight.” Hank reached for the phone and made flight and hotel reservations. He hung up and looked at Kate and Joe’s expectant faces. “You two are in charge. If I can explain what happened and she calms down, I’ll mention your roll in all of this.”
“When do you leave?” Joe asked.
“In two hours. I’m gonna have just enough time to go home and pack before driving to the airport.”
They nodded. He was glad for their support, but he needed to do this alone.
And he’d never felt so alone.
On the plane, Hank had an aisle seat with plenty of leg room but still couldn’t relax. The flight was a little under two hours, but he may as well have been flying all the way to Japan. He had too much time to think about what he’d say to Atlanta, and it wasn’t enough.
Once the plan landed, he immediately went to the rent
-a-car counter and picked up a car. He drove to the very hotel Atlanta mentioned. He prayed he’d find her. He had no choice. Once he was settled in his suite, he planned his next move, but first he needed to call his editor.
“Hello Elliott, it’s Hank.”
“You told her didn’t you?”
He was almost sorry he’d told Elliott about Atlanta. It was Elliott who’d advised caution. “Yeah and it blew up in my face. I’m here in Dallas looking for her. Now this is what I need you to do. She was very pissed. Pissed to the point of threatening to go to the press and expose me.”
“What! Isn’t it bad enough that you now have three people…”
“I don’t care about that now. In fact, I want you to run interference.”
“What do you mean?”
“Get my publicist and go to the press and make an announcement. It’s time I came out of the closet.”
“Are you mad?”
“No,” he sighed. “I’m in love.”
Atlanta was channel surfing and crying as she talked to her sister Syd on the phone. “I…I can’t believe he did that to me.”
“You poor thing. The jerk!”
“I mean, he had me thinking because I love to cook, it might be something I could help him with. I basically bared my soul and spilled my guts out to him and he used that against me!”
“I still can’t believe he did that. But you are an awesome cook, we’ve always told you that. But what did he say when you busted him?”
“Oh he said he could explain. Please!”
“I’m sorry. I can’t seem to get Brit on the line. Being in Finland sometimes the connection is funky. But I know I can speak for the both of us when I say good riddance!”
“I feel so foolish. Here I thought I was going to find the path to my life, find and talk to the person that I felt faced the same challenges I did and found the answers. And it was all a big lie!”
As Atlanta reached for a tissue a special report on television caught her eye. “Something’s happening, there’s a special report.”
“Oh, what about?” Syd asked.
Three Sisters Series: Ringside Page 6