by ANDREA SMITH
“Well, well, what have we here? Have you found someone new to shack up with?” she chided, nodding at my suitcase. I set my suitcase down, and calmly approached her.
“You're the biggest and most hateful bitch I've ever had the misfortune to come in contact with,” I hissed at her. I must've presented somewhat of an intimidating front because she backed up a couple of steps. I whipped the folded photo out of my purse and handed it to her.
“I believe this is yours, you skank,” I spat.
Her eyes widened as she opened the paper. “Nice picture,” she commented, “it doesn’t belong to me, though.”
“Yeah, right. And you're not the one who took it and then made copies, leaving this on my door?” I didn’t mention anything about Trey getting a copy. I wanted to see what she had to say about it.
“Sorry, no,” she said.
“Jenna, I saw you in your cottage the evening that Mark walked me back to mine. I saw you peeking out from your window through the mini-blinds. That window right there in your bedroom, you can see my front porch from it.”
“That’s right Nancy Drew, I can and I did. I saw him kiss you, I also saw you break it off. But I didn’t take a picture of it.”
I didn’t know whether to believe her or not. She was close enough, had opportunity, and certainly had a motive for wanting revenge no matter how twisted it was.
“Look at the picture again,” she demanded.
I studied it. It was taken from a distance away, but the distance wasn't off to the side of my cottage; the distance was directly in front of my cottage, over beyond the path and bushes. Someone had taken that picture from a spot hiding in the bushes. I suddenly realized Jenna couldn't have snapped the photo.
“There you go, Sherlock,” she said. “Now, if you don’t mind, I’ve nothing more to say to you.”
I watched as she went up the path then into her cottage. I hadn’t considered that it could have been anyone other than Jenna. Now this was getting creepy. I grabbed my suitcase, scurrying down the darkened path toward the stables. I quickly said goodbye and kissed Derringer. I had no time for tears right now. Those would have to come later.
Denise had parked her VW close to the stables. I threw my suitcase into the back seat and got in.
“Thanks, Denise. I owe you big time.”
“Please don’t make me regret this, Tylar.”
“It’s what I have to do, Denise. Trust me. I need to get away from him.”
“Where are you going to go, darlin'?”
“I'm not sure, Denise. I'll figure it out when I get to the bus station. I don’t want to make you any more of an accomplice than necessary, although I really think Trey could not care less. He’s back with Charlotte.”
“Honey, he's just trying to make you jealous. He doesn’t care anything about her. Hell, she got on his nerves the 15 minutes I saw her at the hospital that one day. He finally got her to leave. She’s a pain in the ass to him.”
“Evidently, not as big of a pain as I am, then.”
“I really think that you’re over-reacting, Ty.”
“Denise, he fired Mark for no reason at all; he's cast me out to the plantation, working with Jenna. He wants me to quit. I'm obliging him. He wins; I lose. I can live with that.”
“What about the rest of your stuff?”
“I was gonna ask you if you'd pack it up for me? Once I get settled, I'll send money to you so that you can ship it to me. Would you do that, please?”
“Of course, darlin’. You know that I will.”
We'd reached the Greyhound Bus station. Denise got out and retrieved my suitcase from the back seat, handing it over to me. I set it down and gave her a big hug.
“Thanks again, Denise. I'll be in touch.”
“Take care, Ty.” She watched me as I went into the terminal. I was glad that she'd not come inside with me. It was better if she didn’t know my destination. I went over to the ticket window.
“May I help you?” the ticket agent asked.
“One ticket for Atlanta, please.”
“That will be $57.”
I handed him my money.
“That will be Bus 451 departing from Gate D in about 45 minutes.”
I went over to a bench near Gate D. I looked at my ticket. It looked like with all the stops and one transfer, I'd arrive in Atlanta around 10 a.m. tomorrow morning. I fished for my cell phone in my purse and called Gina.
“Hey girlfriend, I thought I was supposed to call you next?” she greeted me.
“Gina, I'll be in Atlanta at the bus station around 10 tomorrow morning. Can you pick me up then?”
“Absolutely,” she answered. “What happened?”
“I’ll tell you all about it once I get there, okay? Can I stay with you for a little while, until I figure out what I’m going to do?”
“Don’t worry, we’ll figure it all out together, okay?”
“Okay, Gina,” I said, my voice cracking. “I’ll see you soon.”
“Hang in there, babe. Ian and I are here for you, got that?”
“Thanks,” I sniffled.
CHAPTER 28
I'd been at Gina’s for four full days when Denise called.
“Denise, hi,” I greeted.
“Tylar, I’m in a real mess, girl.”
“Denise, what’s wrong?”
“What’s wrong? Let me tell you what’s wrong. Trey has been a raging maniac since you left. Ray knows that I’m keeping something from him, and you know me, I don’t like keeping things from Ray.”
“Well, would it make you feel better to let Ray know that you simply gave me a ride to the bus station, and you don’t know where I am, which is the truth?”
“At this point, Tylar, I’m sure he will chew my ass for not coming clean with him sooner about my involvement. Why don’t you come on back honey? I’m betting Trey wants to make up.”
“Denise, it’s not like we had a big fight or anything. We just want different things. I don’t like being controlled by him. He has issues of his own. Besides Denise, Trey knows my cell phone number. He’s not called it even once.”
“That’s because he thinks you ran off with Mark.”
“What! Why in the world would he think that?”
“Because you didn’t take your car with you. He figured you went with Mark.”
Knowing Trey, he probably had a bounty hunter on Mark’s trail right now. Trey wasn't the type to think he'd been bested by another man. I needed to do something if only to make sure that he didn’t have someone looking for Mark.
“Denise, do you know where Trey is now?”
“He left for Atlanta late last night. He will be in his office there today and half-day on Saturday, then he’s back here.”
“Okay listen, I'll take care of this, all right? Don’t worry about it. You're off the hook. I'll handle it.”
“Be safe, darlin’. Call me and let me know what happens.”
“I will,” I promised.
Gina walked into the room just as I hung up with Denise.
“What’s up?” she asked. I smiled at her.
“Show time,” I answered, filling her in on the details.
An hour and 15 minutes later, Gina was driving in downtown Atlanta traffic. I'd borrowed a black pencil skirt that was tight in all the right places, a grey silk blouse that had the top two buttons undone, hose, and three-inch black pumps. Gina loaned me a black clutch to set the very sexy, but very business-like outfit in place. She did my eye makeup for me as only she could. My hair was flat-ironed straight, now below my shoulders. I checked my lipstick in my compact mirror. Perfect.
“Here it is girlfriend,” Gina said as she pulled her car to the curb. It was an impressive building in downtown Atlanta.
“You call me when you want me to pick you up, okay?
“Gina, I’m sure Trey will give me a lift back.”
“Honey, I’m just worried if you’ll survive that fucking maniac.”
“He’s not all t
hat bad Gina, give the guy a break. I'll call you if I need a ride, okay?”
I got out of the car, and walked across the pavement entering through the revolving glass doors into the building. Trey’s firm was in the penthouse. That figures, I thought, pushing the button for the elevator.
When the elevator doors opened on the top floor, the first thing I saw were the huge, gold letters with the firm’s name inscribed on the wall: “Pierce, Harmon, Richardson & Sinclair.” I had to admit, it was impressive. The heels of my pumps clicked on the marble floor leading up to the receptionist’s station. A very pretty, well-dressed blond looked up as I approached.
“May I help you?” she asked.
“Yes, my name is Tylar Preston. I’m here to see Trey Sinclair,” I stated as if I had every right to interrupt his day.
“Is Mr. Sinclair expecting you?” she asked.
I’m quite certain he’s not.
“I don’t have an appointment, no,” I responded.
She didn’t like me, I could tell. I didn’t care, I was here to say what I needed to say to Trey, and then leave. If he chose not to see me without an appointment, so be it. She picked up the phone and dialed Trey’s assistant.
“Yes, Tonya this is Debbie. There's a Ms. Tylar Preston at reception to see Mr. Sinclair. She doesn’t have an appointment.”
I waited, tapping my foot as if my time was far more important than any of theirs. I liked it. A few moments later Debbie got a look of surprise on her expertly made-up face.
“Oh, very well. Yes I'll tell her. Thank you.”
She looked at me with a fake smile.
“Mr. Sinclair’s assistant will be with you momentarily to take you to his office. Can I offer you any refreshment, coffee, juice, or water?”
“I’m fine thank you,” I replied.
Several moments later, as predicted, another young impeccably dressed and coifed brunette came to reception.
“Ms. Preston?” she asked, holding her hand out to me. “I’m Tonya, Mr. Sinclair’s assistant. How are you?”
“I’m well, thank you, Tonya.”
“If you'll come this way, please.”
I followed Tonya down a wide marbled hallway that curved several times. There were rows of doors lining each side of the hallway. We finally reached one that had Trey’s name embossed in gold on the door, which she held open for me, standing aside. This was her office, and beyond, there was another heavy wooden door. “You may go on in, Ms. Preston. Mr. Sinclair is expecting you.”
My courage was quickly fading. What was I doing here? It was one thing to be brave and bold when those sapphire blue eyes weren’t piercing through me. Suddenly, my legs felt like rubber. I can do this, I repeated to myself, making my way over to his door, my heels sinking into the deep carpet.
My hand trembled as I turned the doorknob and stepped into his inner sanctum. Those magnificent blue eyes were immediately upon me as I crossed the threshold, closing the door behind me. He stood up from his massive desk, dressed impeccably in a custom-tailored suit. In a stride, he stood before me. I wasn’t sure if I should offer my hand for a handshake, realizing instantly that this wasn't what Trey had in mind. His arms were around me, pulling me against his strong, hard body. His hands cupped my face, looking at me with those magnificent blue orbs.
I was taken aback. This wasn't the reception I had anticipated. My heart fluttered. The butterflies in my stomach that had been left for dead were suddenly resurrected. He lowered his head to mine. I felt his warm lips on mine, kissing me with a fervor that left me breathless. I couldn't let this happen. This wasn't the reason that I came downtown to Trey’s office. I gently pushed Trey back, fighting the urge to throw myself on his desk and have him do me right then and there.
“Stop please,” I said, trying to catch my breath.
He released his hold on me, gazing down at me with a look I could only describe as fear.
“I came here to talk to you; Denise told me that you were upset.”
His eyes turned to blue steel in that moment. He motioned me over to take a seat in front of his desk as he retreated to his chair behind his desk. Okay, we were going to play lawyer-client now.
“Please sit down, Tylar,” he said coolly, taking his seat.
He rested his elbows on the desk in front of him, clasping his hands together on the desk, resting his chin on them and continued observing me.
“Trey, I came here to let you know that I'm all right. I’m staying with Gina. I did not run off with Mark. I can’t believe that you'd even think that.”
“Who told you that I thought that?”
“Denise.”
“Ray must tell her everything,” he mumbled, looking displeased.
“I won’t have you thinking those kinds of things about me or Mark either. There was nothing between us.”
“You’ll forgive me Tylar if I have my doubts, won’t you?”
“Trey,” I leaned forward, now running my hand through my flat-ironed straight hair, “there is one thing that you have to know regardless of that picture that was sent to you.”
“I’m listening,” he replied.
“I was at the point with you that I couldn’t live up to your expectations any longer. I knew that I couldn’t be the person you wanted me to be. As much as I cared about you, I simply could not, would not, allow myself to become some, some Stepford replicant.”
A tiny hint of amusement flickered over his face.
“So the night you called and Clint was there, it was just too much. I wasn’t giving up my friends simply because they were male. That's not a reasonable request, Trey. My friends told me that you want me as a possession only. I started to believe them and feel that way. I’m not that person Trey. I could never be.”
“I see,” he replied, reflecting on my words.
“Anyway, after the phone call the night Clint was there and I told you that I was exercising my opt-out, Mark noticed at practice that I was in a funk. He invited me to have drinks with him. He walked me to the door of my cottage, and then he just kissed me. Someone took that picture, I don’t know who. The part that doesn’t show in that picture is the part when I pushed Mark away. I told him that we could only be friends. He apologized for the kiss. So there was no reason for you to fire him.”
“So where does that leave us, Tylar?”
“I'm to blame for all of this. I didn’t understand fully what your expectations were when we made our agreement, but I can’t be what you want me to be, Trey. I want love, I want commitment, but most of all, I want trust. I don’t see that happening with us.”
“I see,” he said once again, calmly. “Are you coming back to the estate to work?”
“I guess that kind of depends on you. I love working with the horses; I love training for dressage with Derringer. I respect that you’re the boss there and I realize that I can't pick and choose my job responsibilities. If it’s your intention that I work over at Le Vie Belle with Jenna and the rest, then my answer is ‘No thank you.’ I'll come back for the rest of my things.”
“And if I say that you can continue working with Derringer, how would you feel about that?”
“I’d love it,” I replied. “I don’t see how that's possible though, with you letting Mark go.”
“I may be able to persuade him to come back with the right incentives.”
“Do you even know where he went?” I asked.
“I think I know where to reach him.”
I knew it. He did have someone watching Mark. I smiled, thinking how well I knew Trey.
“There is one requirement that I'd ask of you, Tylar.”
Uh oh, here it comes. “Yes?”
“Since Ray's moved out of the first cottage nearest the stables, I’d like for you to move into it when you get back.”
I didn’t have an issue with moving to a different cottage, though I was puzzled as to the nature of the request.
“I think it'll be safer, being closer to the stables and the hous
e. I don’t like the idea that someone's still out there taking pictures and harassing you. I'll also put someone on security until we know exactly where all this is coming from. Will you agree to this?”
“Yes, that’s fine,” I answered.
“As for our personal relationship,” he continued, “what are your expectations there?”
I wasn't prepared for that question. I didn’t think the terms were negotiable. I needed to be honest with Trey about that or it would lead to further misunderstanding and disappointment.
“Trey,” I said softly, “I don’t for one minute regret anything that's happened between you and me. You've helped me deal with the ugliness of my past; you've helped me discover wonderful things about my body. You know everything about me yet I feel I know so very little about you. As I said before, things like love, commitment, and trust—those are things that I want. Are you able to give me those things?”
Trey was clearly out of his comfort zone. “I’m not much of a believer in ‘happily ever after,’ Tylar. My experience has taught me to appreciate the here and the now; unfortunately, my career and even my past relationships to a certain extent have taught me to trust no one but myself. People are dynamic, not static. Things can change in a moment’s notice. People that you thought would love your forever suddenly don’t and vice-versa. Commitments can be the hangman’s noose. What you want at 21 may not necessarily be what you want at 30. You’re young and idealistic; you’ve not come to realize these realities yet. That’s not a bad thing, don’t get me wrong, enjoy and revel in it for as long as you can, just know that it won’t last forever.”
I stood up slowly, getting ready to leave. I felt really sad for him. “If I live to be 100, I pray to God that I'm never as skeptical about love, life, and human beings as you are at 30, Trey.”
“Let me know how that works out for you, Tylar,” he replied, smiling.
“I’ll be back at the estate by Monday morning, ready for work, then.”
“I look forward to seeing you there, brightening up the landscape once again, Ms. Preston,” Trey replied as he walked me to the door of his office. He held his hand out to me and I shook it. Our business today was concluded.