Atonement: The Lonely Ridge Collection

by Lyz Kelley

  Her breath had gone shallow until she caught the look in Jacob’s eye, a look that said, I’m here, you’re safe.

  The word safe echoed in her mind and bounced her out of a fear-induced trance which had lasted only a microsecond. She forged a smile and handed Jacob the stack of portfolios of company information, financials, and the slide deck she’d collated.

  Jacob gestured for her to occupy the chair next to him and took a position at the front of the room. His shoulders back. His chin confident.

  He began his presentation with a joke to lighten the mood. His vocal cadence was brilliant, engaging. She admired how he created his story and pulled the investors into the imagery of his world. He used her art to visually support his narrative. And then his presentation crescendoed into a dazzling summation.

  She released a heavy sigh, unaware her previous shallow breaths hadn’t provided enough oxygen.

  The men around the table shifted with non-verbal approval on their faces.

  “Bravo,” Glenn said. “Very nice.”

  Jacob let his gaze fall to her mouth, his expression telling her how much he wanted to kiss her.

  He turned when he heard an investor ask a question. “I’m sorry. What was your question?”

  “Where did you come up with these scenes?” The older man at the end of the table reminded her of Grumpy Cat. His forehead and mouth seemed set in a permanent scowl, and his eyes were expressly disinterested. He turned up his nose. “I haven’t seen anything like this on the market.”

  Surprise swizzled up her arms.

  Jacob again met her gaze, his features soft, supportive. “I’d like Rachelle to answer your question. She designed the picture you’re holding, and is the best person to respond.”

  A ribbon of amazement twirled through her chest. He’d given her credit.

  No one had ever given her credit. Ever—for anything.

  In her former world, a woman’s duty was to remain silently behind the scenes.

  Always supportive.

  A beautiful face to be seen. But never heard.

  She’d worked years to make business meetings and social engagements seem effortless. Flawless.

  Rachelle got to her feet, and Jacob backed up the presentation to the first artwork slide. She lifted her chin and proceeded to provide the roots of her design ideas, proving the concepts were singularly hers.

  “Please tell me you have this woman under an exclusive contract, Jacob.”

  Jacob broke into a grin. “Not yet, but I’m working on it.”

  “Glenn?” The older investor closed his portfolio and stood, his permanent scowl still in place. “We have a lunch meeting.” Mr. Crankypants strolled to the doorway, talking to his colleagues, then stood to the side to let the others leave before turning back. “Jacob, we’ll give you a call once we’ve made a decision.”

  “Thank you for your time.”

  Glenn extended his hand toward Rachelle. “Nice job, young lady.” He winked. “If Jacob isn’t your type, I’ve got a son I would like to introduce you to. How about dinner tomorrow night?”

  Jacob stepped in. “We have plans.”

  “How about Saturday then?”

  “Saturday is the charity event I’m hosting. I’m expecting to see you and your wife there, since you’re one of the main sponsors.”

  “Right.”

  Glenn’s tanned skin made the corners of his eyes crinkle. His silver-green eyes danced with a bit of humor when he delivered another wink, knowing he was pushing his young mentoree’s buttons. “I’m serious, young lady. If this one doesn’t treat you right, you call me. I’ll set him straight.”

  She laughed at his California charm.

  Jacob sliced the older gentleman with a look. “I thought you were on my side.”

  “Admit it.” Glenn intervened. “You’re a workaholic, and this pretty lady is too beautiful to be ignored.”

  Jacob packed his computer in his bag. “You can say whatever you like about me, but Rachelle makes up her own mind. She picked me, and I’m pleased she did.”

  Did I? When?

  Glenn held out his hand. “Can’t blame a Dad for trying.” Glenn stepped to the door of the boardroom. “Rachelle, it’s nice meeting you. I have a feeling over time I’ll get to see a lot of you.”

  What did Glenn mean? She wasn’t moving to San Diego. No way could she afford to live in California.

  Glenn disappeared before she could ask him to clarify. Jacob took a step closer. “We did it.”

  “You did it.”

  “Oh, no.” He let out a little snort of surprise. “This was a team effort, and you were brilliant.”

  Her eyebrows shot up. “Me?”

  “You. Where have you been all my life?”

  Hidden away. Just the way my father wanted. Her composure slipped a bit, and she nervously smoothed her dress. She defaulted to her plastic mute smile.

  He leaned in. “Hungry?”

  Yes, for another of your sweet kisses. Heat flared up her cheeks at the thought. Jacob fought back a smile, as if he knew what she’d been thinking.

  “Do you like fish tacos?”

  Her mind got stuck on the words tacos and fish combined in a single sentence. “I don’t think I’ve ever had fish tacos.”

  “No?” He walked her to the elevator. “Then you will love this restaurant. It’s a tiny place, maybe ten tables, and they serve the best tacos, with this tangy cabbage. Guaranteed, it will be unforgettable.”

  If the cabbage is anything like your tangy kisses, I think you’d be right.

  He settled in close enough for her to take in his spicy scent, a smell she could wake up to every morning.

  What? Wait a minute.

  Her mind frantically tried to backspace and delete the thought, but the desire was already out there and permanent.

  She felt his hand settle on her lower back, but continued walking. Once they were through the rotating doors, Jacob approached the waiting limousine. Something inside her rejected the idea of getting in a hot car on such a glorious day.

  “How far is it to the restaurant?” she asked.

  “About ten blocks or so.”

  “Do you mind if we walk?” His eyes held a question. “The sun is shining, I’ve never been here before, and the architecture seems amazing. Do you mind?”

  He looked at her feet and three-inch heels. “Are you sure? Those stilts look a bit uncomfortable.”

  She reached into her bag and pulled out a pair of sandals. “I’m always prepared.”

  “Yes, you are.” He waved the driver away. “Why not?”

  She reached up and fluffed her heavily styled hair, making the curls a bit messy.

  Jacob’s focus intensified, even though his hand moved lazily up and down her arm.

  Could she indulge? Right there on the street. Should she wrap her arms around him, and never let go?

  The idea of a public display of affection terrified her.

  Would he get the wrong idea?

  What if she was wrong about him? What if San Diego, the meeting, the charity event, were all just part of a psychopathic ploy?

  She took a step back, “Ready?”

  “Definitely.” His intimate tone warmed her womanly bits.

  Oh, man. She was in deep, deep trouble.

  Chapter Twelve

  The family strolling along the sidewalk in front of Jacob exposed a void he never realized existed.

  The father with a baby strapped to his chest, holding the hand of a mother pushing what looked like a two-year-old, made him want a family—more than ever. The group wasn’t in a hurry. Likely there was no place they needed to be other than in each other’s company.

  He’d never envisioned marriage, and certainly not kids, until recently.

  He reached for Rachelle’s hand, letting their fingers interlock so naturally.

  Plenty of women wanted to connect with him, especially after the sale of his game was splashed across the internet. However, they only w
anted to know his bank account balance and have a good time. Sex for the sake of sex wasn’t a game he liked to play.

  Wasn’t it ironic? The one thing that attracted other women repelled Rachelle.

  He squeezed her hand, and she looked in his direction. “Is everything all right?”

  “Just thinking about life.” He chuckled at the irony. “Pretty heavy subject for a beautiful day like today.”

  She fought to constrain the wisps of hair riding on the current of wind coming from the sea, but she gave up after a few seconds, and let their interlocked hands swing gently back and forth in time with their steps.

  “I used to play this game with myself,” she pointed to an elderly couple sitting on a bench, sharing a basket of fried clams and chips. “I would pick out some people in a restaurant or at the mall. I’d imagine what my life would have been like if I were a part of their family. Like, would I have gone to college, or learned to play the piano, or would I be married with three kids?”

  “Wait a minute,” he tugged on her arm, “You didn’t go to college?”

  “Aren’t you the education snob?” A light, teasing tone got hitched onto her statement, but he could see her cloaking mask slip into place.

  “What I meant was, you know foreign languages, history, art, and are pretty much one of the smartest people I know. I shouldn’t have made an assumption. My bad. I’m just surprised, that’s all.”

  Her mouth opened, then closed. She was thinking about her response. He could tell by the grip of her hand getting tighter and tighter.

  “Rachelle?” He stopped at a cross street to wait for the light. “What did I say that upset you?”

  “Nothing.” The flashed expression told him otherwise. The walk signal turned green, and she took a step off the curb.

  “Did I remember to tell you how much I appreciated your help today?” he offered, trying to restart the conversation. “Well, really, for the last several days? You nailed it.”

  “You nailed it.” A subtle shift in her voice ignited a spurt of energy. Her dragging steps picked up the pace, and her arms swung more freely. A question settled into her eyes before she turned away.

  “Ask your question, Rachelle.”

  Her focus shifted again to study his face. He could have sworn disappointment flashed in her eyes. The old feeling of inadequacy popped up like a clown in a jack-in-the-box, but he stuffed the clown’s head back in the box as fast as it had appeared.

  He didn’t have room in his life for insecurities anymore.

  He slowed his steps, “Rachelle? What are you thinking?”

  “I did a lot of background research on you to create a design you would like. You show the world an image of yourself, but I have a strong impression that no one really knows you.”

  “Let me see if I can correct your opinion.” A seagull squawked and dropped down to pick up scraps of food, then flew off again. He took a few more steps. “I loved living in Canada. The people and the way of life are different, and I would have stayed if not for my dad. He always wanted more. What’s not in your fact sheet is my dad just left us one day. He was offered a job in the US, and just left, without talking to my mom. He was there one day, then gone the next.”

  “Did you ever see him?”

  Jacob shrugged. “He’d call and email once in a while. Later on I found out he’d been having an affair with one of his colleagues, and he moved to California to be with her.”

  “That must have been rough.”

  “It brought me and my mom closer.” He pointed out the USS Midway, but kept strolling along with the crowds of tourists meandering along the waterway. “For years we used to go several days a week for her kidney dialysis treatments. The appointments would last for hours, and I would sit by her side and read or play video games.”

  He took a deep breath, but the reaction wasn’t burdened, just the opposite. She moved in closer, which encouraged him to continue.

  “After she was done, I’d drive her home.” He chuckled, but humor didn’t come along for the ride. “I had to sit up tall to see over the steering wheel.”

  She turned to him, her eyes narrowed with confusion. “I thought you relocated to the US when you were fourteen.”

  “I did. After my mom got sick, we found an apartment close to the hospital. I was always careful not to get caught driving.”

  She turned her face up toward the sun to soak in the rays. “I can’t imagine emigrating to a different country. Plus, you didn’t know your dad, and it seems he had a new family.”

  “Ben was only seven when I arrived.” Jacob smiled at the memory of their first meeting. His new brother looked pleased to have an ally in the house. “He was like my little shadow, following me everywhere.”

  “My dad was pretty hard on my brother,” Rachelle’s voice dropped to almost a whisper. “Brad grew up angry. As a result, he did a lot of things he wasn’t proud of.”

  Jacob slowed his steps to a crawl. “Where was your mom?”

  “She left. My dad can be pretty demanding. That’s why I was never allowed to go to college. He never wanted to be alone.”

  Rachelle tried pulling away, but he held on. There were questions he wanted to ask, but now wasn’t the time or place. He wanted to be there for her, no matter what, and he wouldn’t judge. She didn’t need to be alone, trapped in her past.

  The warmth from her fingers pressed against his skin, sending a laser beam of happiness up his arms and exploding into his chest. He couldn't hold back his feelings. He was damn sure his heart had just taken the deep dive into the love pool.

  He wanted to protect, not control. “From what I understand, your dad’s no longer in the picture.”

  She studied him for a long moment, then they were interrupted by a couple of bicycle-taxis passing by. “I don’t think I’ll ever see my father again. He’s serving several life sentences without the possibility of parole.” Her face paled. “Maybe being associated with me isn’t a good idea. If someone finds out who I am, or the press gets a hold of the story—”

  “Then I’ll deal with it. Larson and I have a marketing team who manages those sorts of things.”

  He could see her wanting to ask questions about his buddy, but she didn’t, and he was grateful, because he wasn’t sure just yet what he was going to do about Larson’s relapse.

  The wind picked up again, and she tried but failed to tuck her hair back, then he spotted the small sheen of a tear. He pulled her to him.

  “Rachelle, I’m sorry if—” She tried to push out of his arms, but her attempt stalled when he gently tightened his arms. “It’s okay.” He laid his cheek on top of her head, wrapping his body around hers.

  “I don’t know why I’m crying.” She arched back to press her fingertips under her eyes. “I never cry, but I’ve been crying a lot lately.”

  He tucked her hair behind her ears and lifted her face to look into her eyes. “Is it because you’ve never been allowed to cry?”

  “See? That’s why I’m crying.” Her emotions warped her face into utter sorrow. “Today is the first time in my life I’ve been allowed to be who I am on the inside. I’ve exposed myself, and no one has scolded or punished me. I felt safe. No”—she shook her head—“It’s more than that.” Her eyes met his. “I feel alive. You make me feel alive.”

  He lifted his hands to hold her hair so he could see into her beautiful eyes. “No, Rachelle. It’s not because of me. It’s because of you. You’re one helluva brave woman.”

  “I’m not brave. Just careful. I learned to adapt. Hide. Be what my father expected.”

  “And in turn you lost who you were.”

  Everything within her heart rejected the idea. “You can’t lose what you never found in the first place.”

  Jacob leaned in and captured her sweet lips, then lifted and brushed her nose with the tip of his. “Then today we certainly have a reason to celebrate. Today is the first day you get to be the true Rachelle Clairemont.”

  Fear welled
in her eyes.

  He settled an arm around her shoulder and continued at a slow pace along the promenade. “Picture this.” He used his hand to brush a rainbow arc in front of them. “Fish Tacos. The San Diego Zoo.” He turned around and started walking backward and pulling her along. “Hanging out in the Gaslight district.” His eyes opened wider. “A romantic harbor cruise at sunset.” Finally, there was the laugh he wanted. “If nothing sounds appealing, how about a baseball game?”

  “What, no video games?”

  He stopped, and she bumped into him. He was quick to wrap his arms around her waist. “Woman, you’re going to make me a better man. I just know it.”

  “I doubt that, but I am sure you’re going to kiss me right now.”

  He didn’t hesitate. He wove his fingers into her hair, and indulged for just a second, before pulling back. “Tacos.”

  “What?” Confusion glazed over her eyes.

  “I’m hungry for guacamole and fish tacos.”

  He turned and pulled her along, running down the paved street.

  Today was her day, and he wanted to generate a new memory—one she would never forget.

  Her giggle floated around them and fizzed with tiny bubbles of happiness.

  However much he wanted to throw her in a cab and take her back to his place, he’d wait—wait until she was ready.

  Today she might not know who she wanted to be, but he sure hoped she didn’t mind him bumming a ride while she traveled the road of discovery.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Jacob promised a day filled with fun and laughter, and he delivered.

  Not once during the day did she feel uncomfortable, until the taxi proceeded through the massive security gate and up the winding road to the top of the vista overlooking the city. The cab pulled in front of a buttercup stucco building with a Spanish-style roof and wrought iron accents.

  She grabbed her purse and slid out of the back seat. He lent her a hand and helped her to the curb.

  The red front door was a bit of a surprise, but the cream marble flooring, vaulted ceiling, and battleship grey walls weren’t. She had nailed his taste with a capital T.