by Kim Desalvo
He hugged her back and took a deep breath. He could do this. He had a lot of time to work with now, and would figure out what to do about Tiffany eventually. Holding Lexi made him realize what an ass he’d been, and what a horrible mess he’d dived into headfirst. “I’m the one who’s sorry,” he whispered back, meaning it more than she could ever know. “I never should have done that to you—I never meant to hurt you.”
“I know, baby,” she cried, her tears soaking his shirt. “I should trust that you’re going to do the right thing, and I do understand having a more secure future—I’m just being selfish, because I want it to start sooner rather than later.”
Holy hell, he thought, her words gnawing at his insides. Here she was, telling him she trusted him to do the right thing, and he had betrayed that trust on more levels than he could even fathom. “It’ll be here before you know it,” he said, pulling her closer. He hoped to hell that she could trust him to do the right thing. From this moment on, anyway.
She’d really gone all out for the dinner. She made actual lasagna, complete with the spicy Italian sausage from the deli that he loved. The salad didn’t come out of a bag, and the veggies were freshly chopped. The Italian bread was crusty and warm, and she’d roasted real garlic to spread on top. There was a bottle of merlot breathing on the counter, and her grandma’s good crystal glasses were sitting at the ready. Damn it, she’d put a lot of effort into making a special meal, and he felt so sick to his stomach over how many ways he was lying to her that he didn’t think he could eat it.
She tried to keep the conversation light, and didn’t bring up their argument at all, which was also very un-Lexi-like. She was usually the one to keep harboring and picking at a situation until he begged for mercy. Finally, he had to ask.
“I’m really glad you did,” he started, “but what made you come around a full 360? I never in a million years thought you’d be so calm about this whole thing.”
She took a sip of wine to wash down a mouthful of lasagna and smiled at him. “Pretty miraculous, huh? I should be pissed about that comment, but I have to admit that I was ready to be mad for a long time.” She wiped her face with her napkin and set it back in her lap.
“I didn’t want to talk to anyone after I left. I was furious, and was wallowing in self-pity. After I was through being pissed, I was an emotional wreck, and I finally went over to Tia’s to vent. I was even more pissed when they took your side over mine, believe me.”
“What do you mean?”
“Dylan said he totally understood how hard it was to put your own life on hold for the sake of your work, but that more often than not, the sacrifice was worth it in the end.”
Damn it! Ryan thought. Every time he wanted to hate the guy; he did something that was freaking likeable. He certainly didn’t like the fact that Lexi was discussing their goddamn personal life with him, but in this case, he kind of owed the dude. It sucked that Miller was right, that he was cool, and that Lexi trusted him so much. He wasn’t sure how to feel about any of it—he felt like he was in a tiny rowboat on a stormy ocean, bobbing and pitching and far from solid ground.
Lexi continued. “He also said that he felt really bad about setting their date so close to ours—the timing isn’t his fault, but he’s embarrassed by all the media hype and even though he hopes it’ll die down soon, he’s not terribly optimistic. What hit home the most, though, was when he said that you and I have to make it work for both of us; and that if I forced you to keep the date and then you didn’t make partner, you’d never forgive me for it.” She took his hand and softly kissed the back of it. “I was being completely selfish, and I’m sorry. It was for good reason, though; it was because I love you and I want to be married to you.”
Ryan felt a freaking tsunami of regret crash over him. Dylan had managed to do what he never could—soothe the savage beast that was a pissed-off Lexi. He felt even worse now; knowing that Dylan was standing up for him and the whole thing was a fucking sham. He’d never considered how far-reaching one little lie could be, but now he had betrayed them all. The few bites of food he’d managed to force down started churning in his stomach, and he felt dizzy and nauseous. He’d really fucked this all to hell.
“Honey, are you OK?” Lexi asked, noticing how the blood had drained from his face and jumping up from the table to rush to his side.
“I don’t know,” he said, feeling even worse now that he’d now managed to ruin the dinner that she’d obviously worked so hard on. “I’m feeling a little sick, actually.”
“Come and lie down,” she said, helping him up. He actually swooned, and felt like he was going to pass out. “Oh Ry, can I get you something? You want a glass of water?”
“I just need to sit,” he said, falling back into the chair. “I’ll be OK in a minute.” He looked back down at the table, set with the good china and the homemade food. “Damn it,” he murmured on breath as thin as paper, “I ruined your dinner. I’m so sorry.”
“Screw the dinner,” she said. “Are you sure you’re all right?”
He took a few deep breaths and put his face in his hands. His head was pounding, but the dizziness was going away, at least. “Can I get a couple aspirins?” he asked weakly. “Then maybe I will lie down for a while.”
As the cold winds of February blew into Chicago, Ryan found himself caught in a complex web of lies that had him tied up in knots. Dylan was leaving for Seattle soon to work on the new album, and Lexi was spending lots of time helping Tia with her wedding plans. Since she’d accepted the postponement of her own wedding, Ryan was incredibly impressed with the positive and enthusiastic attitude with which she approached Tia’s planning. Plus, the extra time the girls spent together made her even more accepting of his long hours, and that made his guilt gnaw at him constantly. Tiffany, although not demanding too much of his time, was still a regular presence. He didn’t really have a lot of extra work to do at the office, so the gym was his only viable escape. He and Tiffany had spent some time putting together ideas for improving Truitt’s newly developing International Division, but his self-loathing only got worse when she enthusiastically embraced the idea as something that could accelerate their personal as well as professional relationship. Tiffany had no idea that their entire relationship was based on a lie, and she didn’t deserve to be deceived like that either. He threw himself into the work when they were together, hoping to ease back on the intimate side of their relationship until he could figure out how to end it completely without blowing the possibility of landing a big account for the firm. Tiffany wasn’t exactly seeing things the same way.
Wes wasn’t helping, either. Tiffany stopped in one day to take him for an impromptu lunch, and Wes came into his office to let him know she was there. “There’s an incredibly hot woman who isn’t your fiancé here to see you on a ‘personal matter,’” he said with a smirk. “And if you aren’t hitting that, tell me right now, because I’d nail it in a heartbeat.”
Flushed and flustered, he stammered for words. “She’s a Truitt, Wes, for God’s sake. We’re putting together a proposal to pitch to the old man. It’s work.”
Wes wasn’t buying it. “She’s not dressed for work, I’ll tell you that,” he said with a sly grin, then he took a step back when he saw Ryan’s stabbing look. “Hey,” he said, hands raised in surrender, “if you say it’s work, it’s work. But I say again, if you’re not hitting that, give her my number.” He waggled his eyebrows and flashed a lecherous smile.
Wes was on his fourth marriage for a number of reasons, one of the main ones being ‘hitting’ women who weren’t his wife. Ryan had no doubt that he’d follow through with it, although he knew Tiffany was smart enough not to get involved with a married business associate. Only an engaged one who was living a double life, both of which were wracked with lies, he thought bitterly as he slipped his jacket from the back of his chair and walked toward the doorway where Wes smirked openly at him.
“You wouldn’t stand a chance.” He forced a
smile that he hoped was much more genuine than he felt. “But I’ll pass along the invitation.”
“Hey, you think you’ll actually be able to get face time with Truitt? That would impress the hell out of me. Connor too. Truitt usually only deals with the big guns.”
“I’m already halfway there,” he smirked, letting the door shut behind him.
“I have a surprise,” Tiffany said when they’d been seated at the restaurant. “I was talking to Daddy about you…”
“You were what?” he asked, surprised.
She smiled sweetly. “Well of course, Ryan. You didn’t think I’d mention you?”
“I had no idea,” he said, his mouth suddenly going dry. If word starting getting out that they were a couple, it could find its way back to Lexi, and his whole life would be blown to hell.
“I did tell him we were seeing each other,” she continued, and he felt his face flush, “but I also talked to him about the ideas we’ve been working on, and I really think he liked what I had to say.”
“Thank God,” he breathed, glad that the discussion involved work.
“At first he said your firm didn’t have enough international law experience under your belts to handle it, but I told him how hard you’ve been working, and that you’d be willing to get some extra training. I showed him the outlines we drew up and told him about the research I’ve been doing. He’s known for a while that this is going to be my baby and that I really want to separate and expand that division to streamline operations, so he’s had some time to open up to the idea. I really think he’ll let us pitch it!”
A meeting with Preston Truitt was like a dream—he didn’t give up his time unless he really believed there was serious potential for profit. The problem for Ryan was that he’d alluded to doing a lot more work on the proposal than he’d actually done, and he wasn’t even close to being ready to present it. He mainly used the project as an excuse to Tiff so he could spend time with Lexi and visa versa. He was going to seriously need to start putting some major effort into this thing.
“I’m hardly ready for a presentation, Tiff,” he said, fiddling with the end of his tie. “I’ve got a lot more to do…” His nerves were instantly on edge, but he also saw one huge saving grace in the whole thing. If he seriously worked on this project—gave it the time and energy it needed and deserved—it would at least temper down his other problems. He’d have an actual project that he could honestly share with Lexi, the time he spent with Tiff would take on a much more professional nature, and if he pulled it off, he’d secure some major business for the firm. “When does he want to meet?”
“You know Daddy,” she smiled, “he never does business with anyone unless he knows them personally. He thinks he can tell everything about a person from one meeting, so he wants a chance to get to know you informally first.”
Oh crap—as if he needed another reason to make him dread a meeting even more. What if Preston Truitt figured out that he was a two-timing liar who was using his daughter to cover up an elaborate scheme aimed at making his actual fiancé wait another year before he married her in order to soothe his own bruised ego? When he thought about it like that, he really felt like shit. “What did he have in mind?” he asked, trying to look excited, but feeling woozy yet again.
“I have a cousin who’s getting married a week from Saturday,” she said. “The reception’s at the Intercontinental—very fancy black tie affair. I was going to ask you to be my date anyway, and we’ll all be at the same table so you’ll get a chance to get to know each other over dinner and drinks.” She smiled. “I know you’ll impress him as much as you’ve impressed me,” she said, putting her hand on his thigh under the table. “And, I got us a room for the night there,” she added, sliding the hand up slowly. He caught it just before it reached his package and hitched in a breath.
Shit! This was fucked up on so many levels he couldn’t even begin to count them. A hundred thoughts flashed through his mind as he tried to put his life into perspective. He liked spending time with Tiffany, he had to admit that. She was incredibly easy to look at, dynamite in bed, and completely driven in her work; which he both respected and admired. With her, he never had to even think about sharing the spotlight with Dylan Miller. He could enjoy himself and be himself, with the one minor exception of the huge fucking lie upon which their entire relationship was based.
But he was engaged to Lexi, and he still loved her; he really did. He’d broken every promise he’d ever made to her, but she didn’t know that, and if he could get through the next few months, get the Truitt account and make partner, he’d be a hero, and then he could spend the rest of his life making it up to her.
But as long as he had Tiffany mixed up in his business; professionally and personally; he had to play the right role. They hadn’t been “dating,” in his opinion—it had only been a few weeks since they’d met and so far he’d avoided taking her out to public places that couldn’t be passed off as business meetings. A wedding, however, could be potentially disastrous. There would be hundreds of guests, and there was more than a small chance that he’d know at least a few of them. There would be dancing and he’d be there as Tiffany’s date; he’d have to be attentive in a way that would never pass as business; especially in front of her father.
However, a meeting with Preston Truitt didn’t happen every day and not only would he be stupid not to take it, but the invitation had caught him so off guard that he couldn’t think of a possible viable excuse not to go. He took one glance at her expectant look and realized he’d already waited too long before answering. “That’s amazing!” he said, forcing a smile. “I can’t wait to meet him!” He took a healthy pull of his gin and tonic and didn’t even flinch when Tiffany’s hand firmly settled between his legs. Yeah, he thought bitterly, you’ve got me by the balls all right, and you don’t even know it.
Chapter 31
Dylan had told him that he by no means expected him to show up at their engagement party in Chicago; in fact, he’d pretty much ordered him to stay home and rest. Fat chance. Bo was itching to get out of the house and take his life back and even if his mother didn’t agree, the doctors were all for it. He felt like a new man—he looked and felt better than he had in a long time and he’d be losing both the cast and the boot within a week. He was the best man, damn it, and there was no way he was missing the only formal celebration of his best friend’s engagement. The guys hadn’t been all together since they’d gathered in his hospital room, and it would be great to see them and show them he was not only prepared to fulfill his best man obligations, but he was also more than ready to get into the studio and start on the new album.
Lexi would be there too, he was sure, and he hoped that seeing her in person would help him get to the bottom of the only thing from the accident that was still unresolved. He couldn’t have cared less that he didn’t remember New Year’s Eve, but he damn sure wanted to know what happened during or after the filming of After Dark that left him with deep feelings of guilt and regret. No matter how many times he watched the video of that damn show, he couldn’t remember any of it; and despite the fact that he and Lexi looked like they really enjoyed each other’s company, every time he saw her image on the screen he felt a profound sense of sadness that he couldn’t explain.
He had all sorts of fabulous memories of her, but for some reason, he felt some sort of break; some separation. No matter what he did he couldn’t get clarity, so he hoped desperately that seeing her would fill in some of the gaps.
He strolled into the swanky room and swept his eyes over the crowd. Ty and Angelo saw him first; from behind a bar where they were mixing up one of their famous concoctions; and he waved his casted arm.
“Bobo!” Ty yelled across the room, slamming the metal cocktail shaker on the bar and rushing over to greet him with Angelo in tow. They pulled him into a group hug and then backed up to look him up and down. “Looking good, brother!” Angelo said. “Good to see you up and about. Dyl’s going to be so
excited you made it.”
“Great party,” Lexi said when Tia finally had a chance to sit down and have a bite to eat. Lexi and Ryan both had plates filled with delicious offerings; sushi, finger sandwiches, and Mediterranean dips with warm pita.
“It is nice, isn’t it?” Tia agreed, plowing into a pile of hummus with a broccoli spear. “I’m so happy for my mom…she really wanted to do this, and it’s turned out better than I expected.” Tia had been hesitant to let her mother put together an engagement party—she’d already celebrated with her own friends and was worried it might turn into a country club outing with a lot of people vying for Dylan’s attention. Instead, it was an eclectic mix of people from all walks of life mingling over cocktails and finger food, and she was really enjoying it. Rock stars in torn jeans chatted with society ladies and college professors; and her teacher friends mixed it up with movie stars and football players. She turned to see her mother laughing with Tony Granger, who’d been circulating the room like he owned it; flirting with the ladies and laughing with the men. Jessa had put out the invitation to a lot of Dylan’s celebrity friends, and Tia was surprised at how many of them had actually shown up; some of them coming a long way to be here.
“I’m so glad you could both come,” she said, mostly for Ryan’s sake. He’d pretty much been sitting in the same spot since they’d arrived, moving only to get more food or refresh his gin and tonic, and Lexi was staying with him out of solidarity. There was a tension there that she couldn’t quite put her finger on—she hoped they weren’t fighting again.
“Wouldn’t miss it,” he said absently.
Dylan rushed over and tapped her on the shoulder, pointing toward the door. “Oh my gosh—Bo’s here!” Tia exclaimed. “I thought he was supposed to be resting…I’ll be back.” She jumped up and got to Bo just after Dylan did, wrapping her arms around him and giving him a good squeeze. “It’s so good to see you; you look great!” She held him at arm’s length and gave him a once-over. “You really do, but should you even be here? Did the doctor say it was OK for you to fly?”