She moved in front of him. “Tell me one thing. Do you think I’m responsible for what’s going on here? Do you think I’m the person who sold the story to the press?”
Then he did it. The one thing she’d never thought he’d do.
He hesitated.
It was fleeting. A split second. A millisecond even.
But she saw it in his eyes. The flicker of uncertainty. The possibility that he’d considered it.
And it was all she needed.
She turned on her heel and walked along the corridor.
It only took a few seconds to pick up her bag and run down the stairs toward the security office.
“Ramon? Could you help me, please? I need a ride—urgently.” The tears were pooling in her eyes and she prayed they wouldn’t start running down her cheeks.
Ramon looked up, and the gentle giant didn’t hesitate. He lifted a set of keys. “I can organize that for you. Someone will take you wherever you need to go.”
He put his arm around her waist, ushered her down the corridor, and outside. She grabbed a pen and paper and scribbled a quick note while he murmured in his radio to one of his colleagues, then opened the passenger door of a sleek, black car that pulled up silently. She pushed the note into Ramon’s hand. “Can you give this to Lucille, please?”
He nodded and she climbed inside, trying to keep control of her breathing. Her heart was thudding against her chest.
One of the other guards was sitting in the driver’s seat. “Where to?”
“Malibu.”
“No problem.” The engine purred to life, and they drove out of the parking lot.
Selena didn’t look back.
She’d thought LA was the city of dreams. The place where she would find a home. And for a very short while she’d thought Colt might be part of those dreams. Nothing could be further from the truth.
Dreams were made to be broken and sunshine wasn’t all it was cracked up to be.
…
Colt couldn’t believe what had just happened. His head was spinning as he tried to make sense of it all. Part of him wanted to chase Selena down the corridor and find out exactly what had happened. He didn’t know whether to yell at her or hug her.
But something was making his feet stick to the floor.
And that something was the frail woman sitting in front of him.
No one ever knew how indebted he felt toward Helen Ridgeway and her husband Roger.
He’d met them when he’d been a teenager with burns that required extensive plastic surgery. Roger Ridgeway had been immensely patient with him and respected his decision not to opt for surgery. Instead, he’d spent several months on the ward fighting infection and letting his skin heal naturally.
It had also sparked his interest in being a doctor. He’d lost serious school time while in hospital and after a few quiet words from her husband, Helen had come into the ward every day and helped him with his studies.
Many years later when he’d specialized in plastics, then realized he didn’t have the different skills required for burns surgery, Roger and Helen had supported him again, giving him the time and space to realize where his true talents did lie.
He felt immensely indebted to them both. Now, for the first time since Helen had lost her husband, he realized how frail she was.
She’d lost her polish. She’d lost her shine.
And she needed him.
He pulled a chair over and sat down next to her, trying not to let himself worry about what Selena’s next move might be.
He’d blown it. He’d blown it big-time. Inside he was cringing at his lack of support for her. He had to face facts, the situation at Seacliffe had existed before Selena, and it would still exist without her. His lack of faith in her was despicable.
Helen’s face was tight. She was barely blinking. He watched her bite her lip and push the manila folder toward him. “I haven’t opened this yet. Because I’m scared what she says might possibly be true.”
Colt opened it. Selena had red-penned and highlighted several sections in the accounts, with little foot notes next to each with queries or possible explanations of what they could be. It was a meticulous piece of work and must have taken her hours.
And it wasn’t just the time factor that struck him. It was how carefully everything was done. Every word thought through so as not to cause offense.
In one section she’d offered seven possible explanations what the transfer of money could have been used for. Seven reasonable, rational explanations as to why sums of money were disappearing from their business accounts.
But Colt’s heart was sinking. Because he was sure none of them were true.
“We need a specialist to look at these. Selena was right.”
Helen gave the briefest of nods.
Colt took a deep breath. “You weren’t entirely fair to her. I wasn’t entirely fair to her, either. Do you want to tell me what happened here? Because I’ve got a feeling I’ve just made the biggest mistake of my life.”
Helen’s eyes were on the desk. She looked tired. She looked very tired. And Colt realized how hard she’d been working to try and keep things together.
This was the first time he’d ever heard her admit anything was wrong.
Maybe it was time to talk to the other partners? They were all so used to Helen taking care of the day-to-day running of things, while they dealt with the practical elements, the surgeries, the patients.
Colt felt a surge of guilt as he realized he’d never really sat down and examined the accounts before. He’d never really questioned any of the decisions Helen made. He’d been happy to do his job and play his role at Helen’s House.
Maybe it was time to do something more.
He reached over and took her hand. “What can I do to help?”
She shook her head. “I’m not sure.”
Colt took a deep breath. “Has Alexander Hardy advised we reinstate Lara?”
Helen nodded. “We have to. We have to follow the proper procedures before we fire her for good.”
“What are we going to do with her?”
Helen shook her head. “Let her give out towels in the spa?”
“It’s about all I’d trust her to do.” Colt stood up. “We need to rethink. You know Lara would never have picked up on something being wrong with the accounts, don’t you?”
Helen gave the smallest nod of her head.
“I think it’s time we got you some help. We need a business manager. One who can do the day-to-day financial running of the clinic and spa to keep a closer eye on things.” He placed his hand on Helen’s shoulder. “Take the pressure off. Let you concentrate your time and energy on Helen’s House.”
Helen didn’t say anything; she took deep breaths. He knelt down in front of her. “Roger would have hated to see you like this. He would have wanted you to enjoy what you do. Not get tied up in the administration work. Think about it, please.”
He stood back up. He knew Helen well enough to know he had to give her some time to think about what he’d suggested. She would need some time and space to get her head around his suggestions. She’d always been in charge around here. It would be a huge wrench to give up some of that power.
And she had to make that decision for herself.
If he left her long enough, she’d think it was her idea. That would work out better for everyone.
He stopped and looked out of the window over the Pacific. Today it looked more green than blue. Just like Selena’s eyes.
He breathed deeply. He had to find her. He had to talk to her—to explain. Apologize. The thought of never seeing her again made his heart ache.
He loved her. He loved all of her. From the messy belongings tossed around his apartment, to her scowl when he woke her first thing in the morning.
He reached for the door.
“What are you going to do?”
He turned to face her again. There was no point in telling lies. There was no point in hiding his in
tentions. “I’m going to find Selena. I’m going to see if I can put things right with the woman I love.”
There. He’d said it.
And it wasn’t as hard as he’d thought.
He gave Helen a nod and left the room.
He had to put things right.
Chapter Twelve
Selena turned the key and rushed into the house. Jon, the security guard, had agreed to wait outside for her for a few minutes, so she had to be quick. She ran up the stairs to the bedroom and grabbed hold of her bag opening drawers and stuffing as much as she could inside. The bathroom was littered with her toiletries, so she swept her hand across the vanity, dragging them all into a waiting plastic bag. Her shoes were stuffed into another large bag.
That only left the clothes she had hanging in the closet. They looked beautiful. Orderly, color coordinated, and all pressed and neatly hung. Her stomach scrunched. They look like they belonged there.
But they didn’t.
Her gaze drifted across the room. She’d promised herself she wouldn’t look. Truth was, she just couldn’t help it.
The sob stopped at her throat, choking her. Waking up to this view every morning had been the thing of a girl’s dreams. Walking out every morning, onto a sun-drenched deck with the smell of ocean in the air had made this place feel even more perfect.
But what made this place really perfect had been Colt. Colt kissing her. Colt wrapping his arms around her. Laughing with him in the evenings sitting out on the deck drinking cocktails.
This had all been a fairy tale. And every adult knew that fairy tales didn’t come true.
No matter how hard you wished for them.
The truth was Colt had never really wanted her here. He’d felt obligated to her. Nothing more. Nothing less.
This was for the best. She had to go. It was better for her. It was better for Colt.
She was already reading too much into this relationship, placing more value on it than it deserved. And judging from the horrible sensation tightening across her chest she was already too hurt by it all.
She took one last look.
One final lingering gaze over the house where she’d created so many precious moments with Colt, before picking up her bags, lifting the whole lot of clothes—still on hangers—and running down the stairs.
Should she leave a note? No. She couldn’t. Colt’s hesitation had almost killed her. It didn’t matter how she felt about him, it was obvious he didn’t feel the same way. He didn’t trust her, and that hurt more than anything.
No. She couldn’t spend another second in here.
“Okay?” Jon growled as she climbed into the car. He looked at her expectantly, waiting for a signal of where to go. But where could she go? She had no money. No plan. She had no idea where she was going to go.
Her breath stuttered, her heart thumping.
His phone rang and he answered it, before smiling and handing it to Selena. “It’s for you.”
She couldn’t move, her hands frozen. A feeling of expectation rose in her chest. He rested his hand on her shoulder reassuringly. “It’s Lucille, from the clinic. She’s wondering if you need somewhere to bunk down tonight.”
The relief was instant. One month ago, she hadn’t known these people. But now, they were her friends. Willing to stick their necks out and be in her corner.
With shaking hands, she took the phone from Jon. “Hi, Lucille, it’s Selena. Thanks. Thanks for calling.”
“Honey, why didn’t you talk to me? Do you need somewhere to stay?”
The words almost choked her. “Yes, yes, I do.”
“No problem. Here’s my address.” Lucille gave her the address, which Selena relayed to Jon. “You can tell me all about it when I get home.”
And as Jon pulled the car out of Malibu, a tear trickled down her cheek.
Today was the first day of her new life. The last few weeks had been a practice run, and she’d learned a lot about herself.
With Lucille’s help, she’d taken responsibility for her spending, working out a plan for how she could pay Mark back what she owed. Her time at the clinic had actually increased her confidence in her abilities, no matter how low she felt right now.
Once she’d looked at the accounts Helen Ridgeway wouldn’t be able to deny the figures, or what they meant. It didn’t matter that she wouldn’t get the recognition or credit for the work that she’d done. Something had been lit inside her. She could do a good job. She could. The last few months working at the coffee shop had almost made her believe that was all she was capable of.
But that wasn’t true, and the clinic had proved it to her.
Now she had a plan. A plan for the future. One that wouldn’t include Colt.
His reaction had devastated her. Why hadn’t he defended her straightaway? The very thought that he’d considered—even for a second—that she might have sold patient information to the press horrified her.
She could never do anything like that. If he’d known her at all, he would have leapt to her defense. But he hadn’t. And she had to accept that.
It was time to move on, no matter how much it hurt. Colt Travers was going to be part of her past, not part of her future.
She’d applied for an array of new jobs where she could use her skills and newfound confidence. She had somewhere to stay. And more importantly she had friends she could count on. She could get back on her feet. Find a new job and settle her debts. Pay Mark back some of the money she owed him.
She smiled. The thought of doing that made her feel good.
She straightened her back in the seat and looked out at the gorgeous coastline.
She could do this. She really could.
The only person she had to believe in right now was herself.
…
On days like this Colt wished he’d bought the sports car people had expected him to. Somehow the monster truck wasn’t dodging through the traffic the way he wanted it to. The thirty-minute journey seemed to be taking hours.
Selena hadn’t been in the clinic, and no one would admit to knowing where she’d gone. He’d checked all the cottages, but there was no sign of her there, either. Where could she go? She had no car. No other means of transport. As a last-ditch attempt he was hoping she’d made her way back to his home in Malibu.
No, he was praying she was back in Malibu. Because, other than that, he didn’t have a single clue where she would have gone.
And he really needed to see her right now.
He’d never told her. Never told her how she’d gotten under his skin. How he liked waking up to her smile in the morning. How he’d gotten used to the mess she made in his kitchen. How he liked having someone to share his life with. More than anything though, he had to tell her that he’d been wrong to hesitate. He did trust her. He wanted to tell the world he trusted her. He just had to tell Selena first.
He pulled up outside the house and ran up the steps. He flung the door open. “Selena? Selena, where are you?”
Silence.
The kitchen was the same as they’d left it that morning. No evidence she’d been there. The doors to the deck were still closed.
He panicked, his skin prickling and his heart clamoring in his chest. A sensation he certainly wasn’t used to. Nothing panicked him. Nothing. Not even the worst complications of surgery. Because, at the end of the day he still had control over the situation.
This was totally different. This, he had no control over.
He thudded up the stairs, and his breath caught in his throat. The closet doors were open. Empty. Her pristine clothes were gone. Her shoes were no longer scattered over the bedroom floor.
The dresser drawers were half-open, bereft of their contents.
He walked into the bathroom, half hoping there might still be some sign of her. Some little piece of her remaining. But nothing. Every trace of her had vanished.
Almost as if she’d never been there at all.
Colt looked around at his home. The home th
at he’d always loved. And never wanted to share with anyone before. It felt empty. It felt vacant.
Just like his heart.
And without Selena, it could never feel the same again.
Chapter Thirteen
The receptionist shouted through to the back rooms, “Phone call for Ms. Selena Harris.”
“What?” Colt jerked his head up at the sound of her name.
It had been one week since Selena walked out of his life. And no matter where he went, or who he asked, he hadn’t been able to find a trace of her.
He’d spent the last week running himself ragged trying to find her. For the first time in forever, Seacliffe and Helen’s House weren’t his priorities. He only had one goal right now: to find Selena.
He’d been walking through the waiting room when he’d heard the receptionist speak. “I’ll take it.” He grabbed the phone. “Who’s calling?”
A woman on the phone cleared her throat. “You don’t sound like a Selena to me,” she quipped.
Colt sighed. “I’m sorry. Selena isn’t available right now. I’m Colt Travers. Can I take a message for her, please?” Part of his brain was hoping that this person would be able to give him a clue where she was.
“I’d really prefer to speak Ms. Harris myself. It’s regarding an interview.”
An interview? Selena would be over the moon. All those hours she’d spent tweaking her résumé must have worked.
“That’s no problem,” he said smoothly. “If you give me the details, I’ll make sure she gets them.”
“Sorry for the short notice. This is Melissa from Bertram and Bain. The interview is in two days’ time at our main office. 11:00 a.m. Will Ms. Harris be able to attend?”
He scribbled furiously on a piece of paper. Date, time, address, and who to report to. “Absolutely. You can count on it.” He thanked Melissa and replaced the phone. Bertram and Bain were wildly successful. They handled extensive marketing accounts across LA. Selena would fit in perfectly.
If only she knew.
Someone in here must know where she had gone. And he was more determined than ever to find out.
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