by Tawny Taylor
She crossed her arms over her chest. “He’s an abuser, Bristol. That’s why.”
“No, he’s not abusive. Not at all.”
“Ohmygod, you’re so blind.” Whirling around, she stabbed a finger at the door. “He dragged you out of a club to scream at you like you’re a two year old. Tell me that’s not abuse.”
“It was a little over-the-top and obnoxious, sure. But—“
“But nothing. Normal, sane people don’t do things like that. They don’t make a scene in public.”
“Like you’re doing now?” I pointed out, noticing the cluster of guys at the club’s entry who were now staring at us.
Jill followed the line of my gaze then jerked her head back in my direction and motioned to the car. Neither of us spoke until we were in the car. I was in the passenger seat, seething. She was in the driver’s seat, stuffing the key into the ignition. Once she had the car started, she turned to me. “I’m just looking out for my best friend.” She sounded hurt, and that made me feel even worse. Now I was both angry and guilty. Worried about how my next conversation with Shane would go, and upset with Jill for trying to get between us.
“If I needed your help, I would tell you,” I muttered as I stared blindly out the window.
She shifted the car into reverse and backed out of the parking spot. Then she jammed it into gear and stomped on the gas. “No, you wouldn’t. You’re in too deep. You don’t see him for what he truly is--”
“That’s enough. He’s never laid a hand on me. He’s never called me names. He’s never made me do anything I didn’t want to do. He isn’t that bastard, the one I promise never to mention again. But not talking about him hasn’t helped. You still see his face everywhere. They aren’t all like him. They aren’t.”
At the street, Jill jammed on the brake to wait for an opening in traffic. “I know. But Shane is. Exactly like him. Someday you’ll see that. I just hope it won’t be too late.”
Chapter 5
Shane was at my place when I got home. He was in my house. In my living room. And, even though I had defended him to Jill, the expression on his face was a little scary. I had to admit I felt a little uneasy being alone with him.
But another issue bothered me even more. He’d let himself into my condo. Without my permission.
I let him know, by the look on my face, that I wasn’t happy about it. “How did you get in here?” I dropped my purse on the table, knocking some of the freaking bills off. The scattered all over the floor.
“The door was unlocked,” he said blandly as he shoved his hands into his pockets.
Like I would buy that one? He was lying. “I always lock the door when I leave.”
“You didn’t this time.”
I swallowed a few curse words. Maybe it was time to change the locks. “From now on, do not let yourself in unless I’ve invited you to do so.”
An emotion I couldn’t name briefly flashed over his features. In a blink it was gone. “You’re acting different. Are you…?” He charged across the room at me. His eyes widened as he lunged forward and caught my upper arms in his fists. “You’re afraid of me. Afraid!”
I felt myself flinch. My heart skipped a beat or two. “No, I’m not.”
He jerked his hands away, as if I’d burned him. “You cringed like you thought I might hit you.”
“I…did?” My face warmed. My body chilled.
“Do you really think I might strike you out of anger?” His gaze searched mine, as if he didn’t trust me to speak the truth. “You do.”
Did I? I wasn’t sure. “No.”
He shook his head and staggered back. “I don’t know why I thought it would be different this time,” he mumbled as he loped toward the door. His shoulders were back, head held high, but I still got the impression he felt defeated.
I watched him walk toward the door, and in my mind I asked if I would be okay if he walked out and never came back. My initial gut reaction was no, I wouldn’t be okay. If he left, he would take a huge piece of my soul with him. I would be empty. Lost.
“You look so angry. Can you blame me?” I muttered to his back.
Slowly, he pivoted around. “I’ll be in touch.” He left me standing there, wondering how long it would take for him to call.
An hour later, my phone hadn’t rung.
Jill hadn’t called.
Shane hadn’t called.
Five hours later, I was sitting in bed, unable to sleep, checking my phone for messages.
None.
The next morning I checked for messages. None.
I dragged through my morning routine. It was quiet in my place. Too quiet. The silence made all the voices in my head unbearable. I kept thinking about what Shane had said, and what Jill had said, and how I had reacted to him, how I felt when I discovered he’d broken into my condo.
I felt as if my insides had been bathed in acid and run through a wringer. By noon I had suffered enough. I was exhausted from lack of sleep and an emotional wreck. I took some sleeping pills and curled up on the couch. Some old movie played on the TV, the drone of voices easing the tension from my limbs. Gradually, my body became heavier and I let the darkness carry me away.
* * * * *
I woke up confused, disorientated. I was on the couch. It was dark. The TV was on. Then I remembered everything and I started feeling sick again. I grabbed my cellphone.
No calls.
I checked the time. It was after eight o’clock. I’d slept all day. I eased upright. The pills hadn’t totally worn off yet. I was a little wobbly, dizzy. I was thirsty too. I checked my refrigerator. There was some cola, some water, and some wine. I opted for the wine.
One glass in, and I was feeling even worse than before. I sat on the couch, crying like an idiotic schoolgirl who’d been dumped by her first boyfriend. Dammit, this wasn’t the end of the world. Shane and I had an issue to work out. That was what couples did when they faced a problem. They worked it out. We could do that too.
There was no need to freak out. Or check my phone every five effing minutes.
Still, I couldn’t stop checking my stupid phone. Neither could I keep the tears from flowing. I cried until my head was pounding. Then I downed some pills for my head, washing them down with a bottle of water, and staggered back to my bedroom. I flopped into bed and laid there, forcing myself to think about happier things, about the new job I would start on Monday.
The job that Shane had given me.
I prayed, as I once again felt the tug of sleep, that I if I saw Shane on Monday I wouldn’t fall apart. That was the last thing I needed.
* * * * *
Monday morning, I dressed for work. I couldn’t eat breakfast. I couldn’t even handle some toast. My stomach was twisting into knots, coiling then uncoiling. If I didn’t throw up it would be a miracle. I managed to get some coffee down. The little zing of caffeinated energy propelled me forward. With no time to spare, I dashed out the door and jumped into my car.
Jill called me as I was driving to work.
I answered, “Hi.” I switched my phone to my left hand.
“Hi. Are you excited for your big day?” she asked, avoiding the subject of Shane.
“I’m anxious.”
“Does that mean you haven’t made up with psycho?”
My hackles went up. Yes, Shane did things that made me mad sometimes. But then so did other people. Including Jill. That didn’t mean he deserved to be called names. “It means I haven’t spoken to Shane. He isn’t a psycho.”
“No comment.” Jill cleared her throat. “Good luck today.”
“Thanks.” I steered my car onto the freeway, heading north.
“Call me on the way home. We’ll go out for dinner. My treat.”
My stomach protested. Loudly. “I’m not sure I’ll be up to it. I’m feeling pretty crappy this morning.”
“Oh, hon. I’m sorry. I hope you’re okay today. Will you see him?”
“I don’t know.” I hit the gas at the e
nd of the cloverleaf entry ramp to speed up and merge. I was going to have to squeeze my car into a tiny space between a semi and a big, gnarly pickup truck. I said a little prayer and steered to the left.
“I hope for your sake you don’t see him.”
I didn’t know what I wanted. A part of me missed him terribly. I missed the sound of his voice. I missed the sparkle he got in his eyes when he was goofing around with me, having fun. I missed the tilt of his lips when he was giving me one of those lopsided smiles I found so cute and charming. I missed the smell of his hair, the sound of that little growl he gave me when he was in the mood.
That part was definitely bigger than the other part, the one that believed what Jill said, that Shane was too damaged to love anyone.
I wished I knew where all those scars had come from. He’d talked a little about his past. But he’d avoided going into any detail. I wanted to understand him. More than that, I wanted to help him heal so he could live the kind of life he deserved.
That was the real issue, I realized, as I sat there, phone pinched between my shoulder and ear, car speeding down the freeway. The reason why I was struggling with this apparent semi-breakup was because first, I had no closure. And second, I felt I had failed Shane. But I wondered if I somehow could have found the strength to stick it out if I had been the one who would make the difference in his life.
“Earth to Bristol,” Jill yelled in my ear.
“I’m here.”
“Are you going to be okay?” Jill asked. In her voice, I heard her say, you aren’t going to be okay.
“Yes. I’m fine.” The sign warning me about my exit flew by at roughly seventy miles per hour. “But I should let you go. I’m almost there.”
“Okay. Call me when you’re done. I want to hear all about your day.”
“Okay. Bye.”
“Bye.”
I dropped my phone into the cup holder. Then I tried to concentrate on driving for the rest of the trip. I rolled into the parking lot with ten minutes to spare. Just the way I’d hoped. Now, if I could avoid seeing Shane all day today, that would probably be a good thing.
Fingers crossed, but hands still trembling a bit, I hurried up to the building. At the main reception desk, I checked in with the receptionist. She told me to wait. Someone would be coming down to meet me shortly. Then she went back to work and I sat down and tried to pretend I wasn’t about to throw up.
What felt like an hour later a woman came out to the lobby, looked at me, and said in a clipped tone, “Miss Deatrich? I am Gail Fortune. Please follow me.”
I got the vibe Gail Fortune didn’t like me already.
We rode the elevator up to the second floor in uncomfortable silence. She escorted me into the human resources office, pointed at a table and then, before I’d sat down in the chair, handed me a stack of papers. “Please complete all these forms.” She exited the room through a door in the back and I went to work.
Ah the joys of starting a new job. Endless, tedious paperwork.
An hour later, I gently knocked on the door I’d watched her disappear behind. She opened it, accepted the stack I handed her then told me to wait while she called down the individual who would be training me.
I sat.
And sat.
And sat some more.
By eleven, I was beginning to think there was a problem. I did everything I could to avoid looking upset or nervous or restless. Finally a very young woman—maybe fresh out of high school—shuffled into the office. Although she was young, she was dressed very conservatively, no different than the friendly (not) HR person. White blouse, black skirt, black jacket, hair pulled back and very little makeup. “Sorry for taking so long,” she said, extending a hand. “I’m Holly Quade. This way.”
“It’s okay.” I gave her hand a shake then followed her out. It was great getting out of that HR office. I was getting chills from Gail’s icy reception.
Holly didn’t say anything until we were in the elevator. “This is a great place to work, though the Powers-That-Be have some strange rules. I hope you’ll be happy here.”
Strange rules? “Me too.”
“You won’t have any problems if you just follow the procedures.”
“Got it.” Knowing Shane personally, I had expected his company to be a somewhat conservative corporate environment. But this…from the looks of this girl, it was a lot more conservative than I’d ever imagined.
“Did Gail give you an employee manual?” Holly asked.
Employee manual? Oh dear God. Please tell me I won’t be tested on it. “There’s a manual?”
“There is.” She screwed her pretty face into a mask of confusion. “I don’t know why she wouldn’t have given you one.”
I shrugged. “Maybe she forgot.”
“I guess I’ll have to go down on my lunch hour and grab one for you.”
“Thanks.”
The elevator stopped at the sixth floor, and the door rolled open.
There he was.
Shane.
The man I hadn’t spoken with in days.
Heat rushed to my face.
His gaze met mine but then quickly jerked away. “Miss Quade,” he said.
“Sir.” She motioned to me. “This is a new employee. Her name is Bristol Deatrich.”
“Miss Deatrich,” Shane echoed, giving his head a slight nod. His expression was completely unreadable. I wasn’t sure if that was good or bad. While I didn’t want my coworker to know I had been in a personal relationship with our boss, I wouldn’t have expected him to be so good at hiding his feelings.
Maybe he wasn’t hiding anything. Maybe we were done. Over. Finished. My insides tightened. It hurt.
“Sir,” I said, offering a smile.
He didn’t return it. Instead he gave one to my escort, saying, “I trust our new employee is in excellent hands. Excuse me.” After Holly sputtered a thank you, off he went.
My new coworker gave a little sigh. “Don’t laugh, but when I started working here, I had dreams about that man,” she whispered.
“He is handsome.” I stole a quick glance over my shoulder. He was gone, out of sight. Somewhere.
“He’s utter perfection.”
“Nobody is perfect.”
“Shane Trant is.” She motioned to the right and started walking. “Our department is this way.”
I nodded as I followed her lead.
“Call me crazy,” she whispered, “I know he’s a lot older than me. But if I could, I’d sleep with that man. There’s something about him, a strength, an aura of power. I’d love to see how he lives when he’s out of this place.”
My heart jerked. How many other girls in this place felt the same way? How many had actually gotten what they wanted? “Sometimes the people you think have it best are actually living a nightmare. You just never know.”
“I suppose you’re right. And I know that sometimes a fantasy is better kept to the imagination. Reality doesn’t measure up. But still…” she sighed again. “It’s not like it’s ever going to happen anyway. I heard he’s married. To some woman in Europe somewhere.”
Now that was one rumor I hadn’t heard. Married? His wife was dead, and supposedly he had something to do with that, if Jill was to be believed. It had to be an old, false rumor. Jill would have told me if he had a living wife somewhere. “Where did you hear that?” I asked, pretending to be indifferent.
“Oh, I don’t remember.”
Ah, then it had to be false. I decided to clear things up for my new coworker. “I heard he was married, but his wife died.”
Holly waved off my statement. “Oh. Sure. Everyone knows about his first wife. No, he married Wife Number Two right after her death. And as far as I know, he’s still married to her.”
Wife Number Two?
Oh, God.
Wife. Number. Two?
Shane? Married?
Oh. My. God.
If that rumor was true—which was still a big if—then I might have dodged
a bigger bullet than I had realized. If things had continued…if I had married him someday, I might have become the wife of a…polygamist
If he was really married.
If we married.
If, if, if.
My stomach did a somersault.
That was it. I needed to find out if there was a current wife. That would put an end to all of it--the guilt for letting him down, the grieving for what might have been.
At last I would then be able to put Shane, and his complicated life, and our complicated relationship, behind me and move on.
Chapter 6
“What the fuck? Ohmygod. I knew it! I knew that jerk was no good.”
I wished I’d been able to avoid telling Jill this latest rumor. I didn’t want to hear the I-told-you-sos. But she had connections. She was the only one I knew who did. She would be able to get to the bottom of things. Plus I trusted her to tell me, one way or the other, whether he was married or not. She had her reasons for refusing to tell me what she’d found out about his first wife’s death, but she wouldn’t keep this from me.
Jill and I were at Jill’s favorite restaurant. She liked it because every waiter in the place was hot. I liked it because they served a killer vegi lasagna. At the moment we were waiting for our hottie waiter, Paolo, to bring our drinks and salads.
“It’s a rumor,” I reminded her as I unfolded my napkin and smoothed it over my lap. “The girl who told me couldn’t even remember where she’d heard it.”
“That’s okay. We have people. We can get to the bottom of it.”
“Supposedly he was married in Europe somewhere.”
“No problem.” Jill dug her phone out of her purse and started poking at it. “I know exactly who I’m going to use on this case.”
“Jill, please don’t spend a lot of money—“
Jill waved away my plea. “Don’t worry about that. First, I won’t have to spend a lot to get information. We have computers and people who know how to use them. Really well. And second, finding out the truth would be worth any price, no matter the cost.” Finished with whatever she was doing, she dropped her phone back in her purse.
Paolo hurried over, doled out our drinks and salads then ran off again. The restaurant was packed, every table full. We wouldn’t be seeing him again for a while.