What If I Never

by Lisa Renee Jones

  Of course, he won’t get that message until he’s on the ground, but I still smile as I press send and get to work.

  ***

  I eat lunch in my office as I manage what turns out to be an excellent donation day. The auction is coming together. I’m sipping my afternoon coffee when my desk phone rings. “Allison Wright,” I greet.

  “This is Marshall,” the man on the other line says. “I’m trying to reach Allison, the other Allison.”

  “She’s on leave. Can I help?”

  “On leave,” he repeats. “That makes absolutely no sense to me at all.”

  “I’m sorry. I—who are you to Allison?”

  “Her brother. Who can tell me what is going on?”

  I’m sitting up straighter now. “I don’t know. I’m filling in for her and I’ve left her a few messages myself. She doesn’t reply to messages or calls. And no one seems to know how to reach her.”

  He’s silent a moment. “Okay. Thanks.” That’s all he says and then he hangs up.

  My brows dip and I dial Tyler’s office. “Ms. Wright,” he answers.

  “Marshall, Allison’s brother, just called. He’s looking for her.”

  “He’s always looking for her. He’s a troubled man. Ignore him.”

  “If he’s troubled is that a good idea?”

  “He’s not a serial killer. Just a pain in the ass.”

  “But he can’t reach her. Should that concern us?”

  “She feels about him the way you feel about your father.”

  I digest that with what can only be understanding. “Did you try and call her?”

  “Patience is a virtue. One I’ve mastered. Have you?”

  I don’t know what that means, but I let it go. “I’ll pretend Marshall didn’t call.”

  “Good decision.” He ends the call.

  My cellphone buzzes with a text. I return the receiver to the office phone to the cradle and grab my cellphone to find a text from Dash: I need a cupcake. One that tastes like you.

  I smile and type: Then come back.

  As soon as I can, I promise, he replies. Headed to a meeting. It will be late when I call.

  I sigh and set my phone down on my desk, the call with Marshall bothering me. Everything about Allison bothers me. My mind goes to my talk with Tyler. There’s more to Dash Black than meets the eye. There’s more to Allison leaving than meets the eye, too, and I’m not sure what to do about it. I don’t even know what I think is wrong. Just—something. Something is wrong.

  CHAPTER FIFTY-SEVEN

  With Dash gone, I’m in no rush to go home to an empty house, that was her house. Hours after I talk Katie into going home, I order takeout and eat a salad at my desk. I spend a lot of time I should be working thinking about my life. I decide that feeling wildly confused about my life has become my new reality. I admit that fact. Perhaps that’s why I start digging through files, looking for answers to the other Allison’s life. I’m on empty, coming up dry, but right as I’m about to give up, a small piece of paper flutters to the ground. I grab it and find a handwritten phone number in a man’s script.

  I quickly key it into my search bar only to have it come up as an unlisted personal number. My fingers thrum on the desk. It’s probably a work thing which means I could call it and find out. But what if it’s not. My heart is racing with what I’m about to do for reasons I can’t explain. I’ve called hundreds of Allison’s contacts. This is no different, I tell myself. Only it is because I grab my cellphone to ensure the office number doesn’t show up, and dial it anyway. A man answers. “Allison?”

  His voice is familiar and yet not, which has me believing it’s someone famous I just can’t place. “Yes, but not the Allison you think. I’m filling in for her at Hawk Legal and—”

  “Why are you calling me? Is there something wrong with Allison?”

  “I don’t know what’s going on with her at all. Do you? I’ve been trying to reach her—”

  “Don’t call this number. Ever.” He disconnects.

  I blink in confusion. What just happened?

  Nothing good, I think, but I still have nothing to go on but a gut feeling that something is wrong with the other Allison. My cellphone rings with an unknown number and I answer. “Allison Wright.”

  Turns out it’s a client of Bella’s. I talk to them for a good half hour, log a donation, and finally disconnect. My cellphone rings again and I quickly glance at the caller ID, expecting Dash, only to find another unknown caller. I answer the line. “Allison Wright.”

  There are a few beats of silence and the line goes dead. I’m officially creeped out. I toss my takeout bowl in the trash and start gathering my things. A few minutes later, I walk through the ghost town of an office, with a creepy sensation floating down my neck. I step into the elevator and it’s about to close when someone catches the door. I hold my breath, not sure who I expect.

  Tyler steps into the car and I blow out a relieved breath. “If you’re trying to get free rent, Ms. Wright, it’s already yours.” He punches the garage button I’ve forgotten to punch.

  “It’s kind of weird that you give me free rent. Why?”

  “You know why.”

  “How long was Allison in the house?”

  “A year.”

  “And before her?”

  “My grandmother,” he surprises me by saying. “I inherited the house and her wine collection.”

  Guilt stabs at me. “I’m sorry,” I say quickly. “I shouldn’t have been nosey.”

  “I know you can’t help yourself.”

  The elevator lands on the garage floor and the doors open. Tyler proves himself a gentleman and holds the door for me. I step outside and turn to him. The minute he joins me I say, “I’m worried about her Tyler. Really worried. Beyond reason. Please tell me you tried to call her.”

  “I did,” he says. “She’ll call me back.”

  “And if she doesn’t?”

  “Then we’ll talk. I know why she left. I know why she’ll come back. You need to chill the fuck out.”

  I blink at the informal, human-like response. “Right. You’re right. I think I’m in worry mode because of my mom.”

  “I thought your mom was doing well?”

  “She is, but I can’t seem to realize that.”

  “Of course you can’t. She’s your mother. Contrary to what you might think of me, I love my mother as well. I’d be the same way. Speaking of a parent. My father has been in Europe dealing with our international clients. He’s returning tomorrow. Expect him to want to meet you at some point. This is still his rodeo. I’m just one of the horses.”

  “Of that I doubt.”

  “You haven’t met my father.” He motions me to the car.

  “Let me walk you to Dash’s car.”

  “You just couldn’t help yourself. You had to bring up Dash, right?”

  He just looks at me. I almost laugh for no good reason, but I am glad for the company. We walk to the car and I click the locks. Once I’ve opened the door, he gives me a nod. “Goodnight Ms. Wright.” He turns and walks toward the fancy sports car parked next to Dash’s that I’d seen arrive this morning.

  “Allie!” I call out.

  He raises a hand and climbs inside his car.

  ***

  Once I’m on the road, I consider my conversation with Tyler.

  I decide he’s worried about Allison, too, but that could be more about his relationship with her, and perhaps a fear that she’s really done with him. Though it’s hard to see Tyler fretting over such things.

  Half an hour later, I walk inside his grandmother’s house, switch on the alarm, but still feeling a little unsettled, I also search the house. It’s crazy, I know, but I just can’t stop feeling uneasy. Once I’ve established I’m alone and safe, my thoughts shift to Dash. It’s almost nine at night and he hasn’t called which means he probably won’t call. I digest this reality with a fairly brutal stab of disappointment. I’ve just sat down on the bed and
kicked off my shoes when my cellphone rings. Disappointment fades into relief as I greet him with a simple, “Hi.”

  “Hey, cupcake. Sorry I called so late. It’s been a hellish day that ended in a meeting over drinks that added the hell to hellish. I’m probably going to have to go to court over this mess. I’m meeting with an attorney tomorrow.”

  “It’s a bad investment?”

  “Yeah, and a dispute over the stock I’m trying to unload. I’ll tell you all about it later.”

  “Did you write at all today?”

  “On the plane but shit words. I’ll probably trash them all. So much for I might turn in the book early. Bella wants me to meet with some studio before I leave about a development deal.”

  “That’s amazing. And exciting.”

  “I don’t know. I mean yes, it could be, but I don’t love the Hollywood scene. How was your day?”

  “Busy. I worked late. I just got home. Allison’s brother called today. He acted worried about her.”

  “Allison’s brother is a lunatic. I was at the office one day when he showed up there drunk as fuck.”

  “Oh. Hmmm. Tyler did say something about him being a problem.” My mind starts racing and lands on a heavy thought. “Dash, you don’t think—I mean—”

  “Don’t go there, baby. Her brother is a drunk, but he loves his sister. He didn’t hurt Allison.”

  “Right. Of course. Setting him aside. There was this other incident. I called a number I found in my desk drawer, her drawer, thinking it was a prospect, but the man who answered acted suspiciously. Long story short, he told me never to call him again. And before you say I’m worrying for nothing, she hasn’t called Tyler back. And like me, I think he’s worried about her, too.”

  “More like, he has a bruised ego because she blew him off. That’s not something he’s used to.”

  “And while I get that, I don’t feel good about this, Dash. I just have a bad feeling. Which brings me to what I consider an important question. What would you do if you felt like I do?”

  “I don’t know what I’d do. If you don’t hear anything from her by the time I get back, I’ll talk to Tyler and see what I feel about all of this after I do.”

  “You don’t even get along with Tyler.”

  “We have a history, but it’s not all bad. We respect each other,” he pauses and adds, “with limits.”

  Maybe less than Dash thinks, is my first thought, but I decide that’s not a talk to have after his “hellish” day. “Thank you for this, Dash. When do you think you’ll be back?”

  “I hope Wednesday night, but it might be longer.”

  “Wednesday would be good.”

  “Plan on picking me up and coming home with me.”

  “Is that a request or a demand?”

  “Which do you prefer?”

  “I’ll tell you Wednesday night,”

  “Preferably naked,” he says. “Talk to you tomorrow, cupcake.”

  We disconnect and I fall back on the mattress. I wonder if the man I called tonight is the man that sent the necklace. And I wonder if he ever made her feel flutters in her belly, the way I do with Dash. And if so, what changed? Why did he have to ask for forgiveness?

  CHAPTER FIFTY-EIGHT

  Dash isn’t coming home until Friday.

  This, after several days of him predicting Wednesday as the day he’d be home, but just not being able to make it happen. In the meantime, Tyler seems to be avoiding me, and that, and all other things work-related, is as usual. As for Tyler’s father, by Wednesday I have yet to meet the man, though I’ve heard whispers of his presence. It’s that day, after a heck of a lot of phone work, that I’m just about to go grab lunch when Bella pokes her head in the door. “Have you eaten?”

  “No. I was about to go to the restaurant.”

  “Want to go with me?”

  “I’d love that.” I quickly call up to reception and tell them I’m taking a break.

  A few minutes later, Bella and I are at a table, food unloaded and ready to eat. “I see you’re driving Dash’s car.”

  “I am,” I say, feeling my cheeks heat. “My car, that really isn’t my car anymore—my mom still had my college junker for some reason—died on me. He generously let me borrow his.”

  “He doesn’t let anyone drive his car, which is always a prized possession, especially as new as that one. But he let you.”

  “Don’t read into it, Bella. Dash knows I leave in January. I think he feels safe with me for that reason.”

  “I see how he looks at you.”

  She’s the second person who’s said something like that to me. I don’t ask what she means because I don’t want either of us to read into her assessment. “We’re attracted to each other. I won’t pretend we’re not and now I’m changing the topic and turning it back on you. Are you dating anyone?”

  “God, no. I’ve decided I’m not meant to find a partner in life. I seem to be drawn to players. You’d think Dash and I shared a father, but then again, I’ve kind of lived his father through his eyes. I read a book about that. We are creators of habit and radiate to what we know even if it’s bad.”

  “But your father—”

  “Is wonderful. I know. Maybe that means there’s hope for me.”

  “I get it though. I don’t know if you figured this out at Tyler’s party but my father is Rob Wright.”

  “Wait. What? He’s your father?”

  “Yes. And I feel about him about the way Dash does his father. But the point is, that if a man finds out my father is my father, it shifts the dynamic. Even after I tell them I don’t want his money and I’ll give it away, they think they can change my mind. My mother didn’t even take his money.”

  “He must have really hurt you, or was it her? Your mother?”

  “Both,” I say. “At different times and in different ways.”

  “The good news is this: you don’t have to worry about any of that money and power stuff with Dash,” she says. “He’s got his own money and fame. He doesn’t need his father’s. But on the same note, I like that he doesn’t have to worry that you want his money, either. If you’ll walk away from your birthright, you’ll walk away from him if he gives you too much shit.” She sobers then and says, “We’ve had struggles he and I. We’re kind of fucked up. There are probably reasons beyond the obvious why we’re both loners. But I like to think we’re both worth saving.”

  There is torment in her eyes, real pain, that I’ve only glimpsed in Dash, but I now know he simply hides it better than Bella. Her phone buzzes with a text and she glances at her screen.

  “Damn it. I have to go. I have another client melting down. Tell me again why I like my job? Sorry, Allie.”

  “No worries. We’ll do it again.”

  “I’d like that,” she says, squeezing my hand before she grabs her tray and heads to the trash.

  I repeat her words in my head. I like to think we’re both worth saving.

  Dash needs saving. That’s hard to process as real and I doubt he’d agree.

  CHAPTER FIFTY-NINE

  By Thursday, I’m so busy that I still haven’t had time to get a lockbox which amounts to, I’m still carrying around the necklace. I vow to go after hours today. With this in mind, I’m actually about to pack up my files and head out when, for the first time since our encounter in the parking garage, Tyler reappears, this time in the doorway. “We’re having cocktails tonight at Nova with my father. Be there in an hour.”

  I blink. “I—what? Tonight? And why me?”

  “He does it with all new employees.”

  “I’m temporary.”

  “Are you?”

  “Probably.”

  “One hour,” he says. “Don’t be late.” He disappears into the hallway.

  I dial Bella’s cellphone, which Dash gave me last night at her request. “Allie!” she answers. “I see Dash actually did what I said and gave you my number. Small miracles.”

  I don’t even have a friendly
greeting in me right now. “I’m suddenly having drinks with Tyler and his dad. What do I need to know?”

  “Oh that. Jack Hawk does that with every new employee. It’s a test. No one knows the criteria. It will be weird and intimidating, but just be yourself. You’ll do fine. Oh, and after a schedule mess, my client is at Jason Aldean’s place tomorrow night. Will Dash be back in time?”

  “I’m picking him up at six. He’ll be here. I’m sure he’ll still want to go.”

  “Great. Now go get that meeting over with. Once is all you have to endure.”

  ***

  I walk into Nova five minutes early to be led to a small round table in the outdoor area, where a fireplace adds a cozy effect. Tyler and his father are already present and both men stand to greet me.

  “Ms. Wright,” Tyler greets. “Meet my father, the master of our universe.”

  I draw in a breath as my gaze touches piercing gray eyes, and a man so like Tyler, it’s almost spooky. Jack Hawk is tall, fit, athletic even, and appears far younger than what must be his fifties.

  “Nice to meet you, sir.”

  “Jack,” he amends. “I’m not quite as formal as my son.”

  Tyler’s lips twitch in what I believe to be irritation while his father motions for me to sit.

  I quickly claim the seat between them and hang my purse on the back of my seat.

  “How about a drink?” Jack asks.

  “Coffee,” I say. “I have to drive home and I’m not a good drinker.”

  “Well, nothing wrong with being a bad drinker.” He motions to the waitress and orders my coffee.

  Once that’s done, Jack fixes me in a stare, and it’s crazy how much he looks, sounds, and even moves like Tyler. “I hear you’re filling in for Allison,” he comments.

  “I am. It worked out well, her leave and my leave.”

  “I attended a Riptide auction last year. I do believe I saw you there. What is your role with the company?”

  “Jack of all trades, no pun intended,” I laugh. “I’ve been training under the principals and do pretty much anything and everything.”

  “A versatile person is a keeper,” he says. “Tyler takes after his old man. He knows how to see that in people, as do I. I hear your mother just recovered from cancer.”