by Wendy Vella
“Sure, but he cleaned my external hard drive and took the camera card, and I don’t think my boss was checking file dates. Jay was clever and thorough. He was a whizz on computers and got into my Dropbox, and cleaned that out too.”
“What about the others you’d worked with? They knew what photos you’d taken and stuff like that. Worked with you and seen what you’d done?”
Hope shrugged. “I wasn’t that popular, and it wasn’t like the photos were wiped or anything, so Wildlife could still have the presentation and all, just that Jay got the credit.”
“Come on, Hope, don’t tell me you just walked away. Let years of work and reputation go just like that?”
“What was I meant to do?” She hadn’t meant to yell, but it had come out that way.
“Fight,” Buster said calmly.
“What with? Everyone believed him. Jay the nice guy, Jay who was always doing things for people. They all felt sorry for him having to put up with a bitch like me. After all, I was cold and unemotional. You know me, Buster. I don’t make friends.”
Buster’s eyes went over her shoulder. Hope turned and saw Newman. She spun back to face him.
“How long has he been there?”
“A while.”
Hope closed her eyes. She heard the chair move, and knew Buster had gone.
“So you told him, but you couldn’t tell me?”
He sat across from her, and she hated how aware she suddenly was of him.
“I shouldn’t have said anything, but it just came out.”
He wore a faded navy T-shirt. His hair was damp and the curls were already starting to stand off his head. Jaw shadowed, he looked large and solid, and Hope felt the desperate need to climb into his lap and let him hold her. She felt heat fill her cheeks at the memory of that night he’d kissed her breasts.
“You’re different here.” Hope latched on to anything to change the subject from her, and her thoughts, and what he’d just learned about her.
“How am I different?”
“Almost like another person. You dress in worn clothes and don’t brush your hair. Less corporate raider, more casual bum.”
He smiled. “I still have style, sweetheart. That’s where you and I differ.”
“I have style!” Hope snapped.
“Sure you do, and when you’re finished with that shirt, my mother can make it into a cushion cover.”
Normally she didn’t care about him teasing; in fact she loved their verbal sparring, because it fired her up. But right at that moment, she felt raw, exposed, and confused. Everything she’d fought for had been taken from her, and she didn’t know how to get it back. Talking about it with Buster had made her realize what she’d lost.
“Hope, are you okay?”
She felt her body start to shake, and then… hell, she was about to cry. Gulping down a breath, she looked at the cup she had clenched in her hands.
“Hope?” He reached for her, his hands cupping hers. “I’m sorry, I didn’t—”
“No!” She pulled her hands free, still not looking at him. Getting to her feet so quickly the chair turned over, she mumbled something about having to go, and ran out of the Hoot, leaving her laptop and things on the table.
“Hope!”
She didn’t stop as Newman called to her, but kept running. She dodged people and ended up running down the street. She wouldn’t let them see her weak. Didn’t want the sympathy. What she needed right now was solitude to do something that had been building inside her for weeks. Cry.
Dashing behind the shops, she ran to the trail and into the redwoods. Once there she hurried along the hard-packed path, then cut left into the trees. Only when she had put enough distance between her and the town of Howling did she stop. Chest heaving, she went to the nearest tree, wrapped her arms as far as she could around it, and held on.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
“ You don’t have to come down on her all the time because she’s not into fashion, bud.”
“What?” Newman was on his feet about to follow Hope when Buster’s words stopped him.
“Sure, I get that it’s like some weird form of communication for you two, and you’ve been doing it for years. But the thing is, Newman, sometimes, like now, it actually hurts her. Especially considering you’re the male fashion icon.”
“How do you know I hurt her sometimes?” Newman looked at the man who knew him better than he knew himself.
“It’s in the way she hunches her shoulders, and if you get close enough and really look, you can see it in her eyes.”
“You’re going soft,” Newman muttered. “And I’m not a male fashion icon.”
“Not to me you aren’t, ’cause I have my own style.”
Newman scoffed loudly.
“But let’s face it, bud, even your socks match your shirts. Plus, there’s that thing you have going on where everything you put on looks designer.”
“I’m sure that’s an insult.”
“No, just a fact. You could throw on one of Jake’s grease rags and look good. Now go and find her and apologize. She’s got shit going on, and we have to help her fix it.”
“We do?”
“That’s what we do, remember? Look out for each other.”
Newman shook his head and made for the door. “You’re just plain weird, Griffin, but I get your point.”
Newman hadn’t meant to hurt her. Hadn’t meant for his teasing to make her cry, but it had. This, he knew, was not about clothing, it was about the stuff she’d told Buster. The stuff he’d heard. Just thinking about what she went through made him angry enough to want to hunt this Jay down and beat the shit out of him. Which he knew was a possibility, as the man and Hope’s old colleagues were nearby. But for now, he needed to get to Hope.
She was quicker than he’d thought, and he only caught a glimpse of her as she sprinted into the trails. Stopping, he listened, and heard the thud of her feet. He followed. Stopping again, he heard her cries. He moved as quietly as he could until he found her. She was hugging a tree. Later, he’d smile over that. Only Hope would hug a tree when she was in pain.
“I’m sorry, Hope, I never meant to hurt you.”
She wore a hideous rainbow-striped shirt and worn jeans. Her hair was damp, and a loose, tangled mess.
Newman had seen many women cry in his lifetime. His mother was the loud, demonstrative type, as were several of his friends. But he had to say that the soft, heart-wrenching sobs coming from Hope were making his chest hurt.
Closing the distance between them, he stopped at her back, then placed his hand on her shoulder. She didn’t flinch or move, just kept crying.
“Come on, sweetheart.”
“G-go away.”
“You know I can’t do that, Hope. The gentleman in me would never leave a woman in distress.”
Newman eased her off the tree when her cries slowed to sniffles. Turning her, he pulled her into his chest, then wrapped his arms around her and held her tight. She didn’t fight him, just let him hold her. Her hands went around his waist and they stood that way, there among the mighty redwoods, for some time. Light dappled around them, and he inhaled the earth and scents of this place he called home.
“I was thinking of hiring someone to take Jay out. We could make it look like an accident. I’m sure Tex and Brad would have the contacts.”
She snuffled.
“But seriously, Hope. You can’t let him get away with what he did.”
“There’s nothing I can do, Newman.”
She sounded defeated, and the fact that she was still in his arms told him she was. His heart ached for her, and not in the way he would if she were just a friend. He felt something more for this woman, and while that was scary, it was also in a weird way compelling.
“So what, you’re just going to let that limp dick get away with what he did to you? Destroy your reputation and take your place? Come on, Hope, surely your rep means more to you than that. And let’s not mention the fact he’s on your tu
rf now too.”
“We are not gangsters, Newman.” She sighed, then levered herself away from him. Her eyes were bloodshot, face pale. She looked beaten. He wasn’t having that.
“I never took you as chickenshit, Hope Lawrence. I had you pegged as a fighter.”
“Don’t speak to me like that. I’m… I’m upset.”
“Wah, wah,” Newman said in a soft whiny voice, that he knew would piss her off.
She hit him hard in the chest. He grunted obligingly.
“You don’t know what it was like that day! To walk into a place where even if the people didn’t like you, they at least respected you. They all looked at me like I was something they’d scraped off the bottom of their shoes.”
“Cry me a river.” Newman yawned, which earned him another thump. “Okay, that’s enough of the hitting.” He grabbed her wrists.
“I worked hard for that position, damn you! H-he took it all from me, and simply because I allowed him to. I didn’t see what he was doing until it was too late!”
She was angry now, color riding high on her cheeks. Excellent , Newman thought. A much better look on her than the last one.
“So how are you going to turn the tables on him? Because from where I’m standing, you just let him screw you over without much of a fight. Those photos had dates.” Newman ticked the points off on his fingers. “Your colleagues know your style and surely someone would have seen you taking some of those photos. There also have to be people in your community who respect you and can attest to your excellent reputation.”
“You don’t understand.”
“I really don’t,” he added. “You could go for a wrongful termination suit against Wildlife, and there’s also defamation of character, and yet you did nothing but run.”
She looked at him, her eyes focused on his. Intent, as if she could read the answer to the next step to take in his eyes. He felt it again, that little zing of awareness he’d been getting since they’d reconnected again.
“A colleague from Wildlife called me today, Newman.”
“What’d she say?”
“That she didn’t believe Jay, but had been too scared of losing her job to speak up.”
“So not everyone believed him then.”
“No, not everyone.”
“Where there’s one in your camp, there’s probably two. If you’re willing to let others help you with this, Hope, I think between us we may be able to come up with a plan to get this Jay back while he’s here.”
She was shaking his head before he’d finished. “No, I don’t want others to know. Those photos and clips he took of me, he told me he’d release them if I made trouble.”
“Did you see them?”
She nodded. “They’re horrible. I’m rambling and look drunk.”
Newman was fairly sure he needed to do something to this Jay that would ensure he never messed with anyone again, and have a little chat with him about the right way to treat a lady.
“So. People get drunk all the time and end up on social media. Big deal.” He shrugged.
Hope dropped her eyes.
“What aren’t you telling me?”
“Nothing.”
“Come on, Hope, this is not grade school. Tell me what you’re hiding. I may be able to help.”
He saw the devastation in her eyes as she looked at him again.
“People know how I feel about drugs, because I may not be outspoken, but on this matter, I will voice my opinion.”
“Sure, even I know that. I remember when that Kyle Blatch brought some to school, you ripped him a new one.” Newman wasn’t sure where she was going with this but didn’t think he was going to be happy when she got there.
“Jay put white powder around my nose, and some on the table, and he…” She closed her eyes. “He made it look like I was using heroin.”
“I’m going to kill that fucker!”
“Get in line.”
He held her again, wrapping his arms tight around her.
“You should have told me this right off.”
“Why? There’s nothing you could have done. Jay had the clips of me naked, drunk and supposedly high. If he releases them, I could be charged. My reputation would take even more of a hit than it has, and I would never be able to look my mother in the eye again.”
“Okay, sure this changes the playing field, but only slightly,” Newman conceded. “Plus, he would have to be able to prove it, as it’s still his word against yours.”
“Except I look drunk or high. The evidence is damning, Newman.”
“Why are you so willing to let him take away everything you’ve worked for?”
“I had no choice.” She shrugged out of his arms. “I wasn’t popular, I told you. He was. The fight to clear my name would be a hard one.”
“So you gave up before trying. I thought you were tougher than that.”
That pissed her off enough to have her eyes firing to life as she gave him a heated look.
“Not everyone is popular, Mr. Nice Guy.”
“No need to come at me because you know you’re wrong. But enough about that for now.” He lifted a hand as she opened her mouth. “If you’re willing, I’d like you to tell the others your story, and see what they say. Those guys are smart, Hope. I know between us we can come up with a way to get back at him. Especially as he’s here now.”
“I don’t want them knowing about the clips.”
“They’d believe you, Hope.”
“You don’t know that.”
“Actually, I do.”
Her head tilted slightly, and suddenly the anger was gone.
“Why do you always help people?”
The question threw him. It was out of left field, and he wasn’t ready for it.
“I like you, therefore I want to help you.”
“But you always do that. Always the friend who helps. Even your job, you help failing businesses. Or buy them when they hit rock bottom. What’s with that?”
“What?” Newman said to buy himself time.
“So you want me to slice open a vein but you won’t do the same?”
“I like helping people.”
“You know what I think?”
He was fairly sure he didn’t want to know.
“I think you like being needed.”
Her words hit the bull’s-eye, but he didn’t show it in his expression.
“Whatever, and we’re talking about you.”
“Whose approval did you want as a child and never got?”
Christ.
“Don’t take up psychoanalyzing as a career,” Newman drawled, when inside his head was suddenly all over the place as he remembered snippets of his childhood. Always trying to please his father, and never quite getting there. “Why can’t you be more like that McBride boy?” or “Why can’t you throw a ball like that Griffin boy?”
Grabbing Hope’s shoulders, he pulled her into his arms and kissed her. Her words had cut to the heart of what had once been something very real for Newman. The need to be accepted. He’d thought he was over it, but hearing Hope’s words made him wonder if in fact he wasn’t.
“I don’t want you to kiss me,” she whispered against his lips. She then plunged her fingers into his hair and tugged his head down for more.
It was wild, sometimes savage, and probably the best make-out session he’d ever had without getting naked in his life. His hands ended up under her shirt, stroking her fine breasts, hers under his, trailing over his skin, and the entire time their mouths remained fused. Teeth clashing, tongues dancing.
“We’re ending up in bed, Hope.” He said the words as he came up for air. “You don’t have this kind of heat and not end up there.”
“But this is purely physical.”
Newman wasn’t sure about that, but as he was sure that thought would scare her, he kept it inside his head and kissed her again, because he needed it as much as his next breath.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
They walked
back to the Hoot side by side, both silent, and Hope was fairly sure that only a plunge in the lake would bring her body temperature back to normal. The man turned her inside out. His touch sent her spiraling out of control, and even Jay hadn’t done that. The sex had been good, but then as he was only the second man she’d been with, and the first when she lost her virginity, she didn’t have a great gauge.
She knew Newman was experienced, and was fairly sure he’d had plenty of partners, and that thought was a terrifying one, but she also knew that he’d been right when he said they’d end up in bed. They had chemistry, there was no doubting that. If Hope stayed in Howling, and kept in contact with him, then it was likely they would end up doing it. Did she want that?
“So what do you think?”
“About us ending up in bed?”
“No, but yes, that will happen. However, I meant about telling the others, and coming up with a plan to bring that that limp dick to his knees.”
The flash of excitement at the prospect told Hope she wanted that. Before now, she’d just been numb, but today, talking with Buster, and now Newman, she realized that she did want justice.
“I don’t think we can get him.”
“Surely with your reputation your boss knew what you were capable of, Hope? You’d been with Wildlife longer than Jay. You should talk to her, your boss, now the dust has settled and explain your side of the story.”
“There’s this thing between me and my boss.” Hope looked straight ahead, but felt his eyes on her. “Her opinion of me was never very high.”
“What?”
“What?” she said right back, to buy herself time.
“You and your boss. What’s the deal?”
“I may have accused her of incompetency… maybe.”
He laughed. “And was she incompetent?”
“She is the wealthy daughter of some business mogul who thinks she’s right at everything. I didn’t always happen to agree with her. I also think she had a thing for Jay.”
“Not an ideal situation. Are you open to at least discussing it with the others?”
Was she? It was humiliating, and Hope was usually a solitary person. Could she open herself up to others knowing what Jay had done to her?