by Nina Crespo
Tab’s mom slipped her arm through hers. Her mother’s delicate features grew even prettier with a smile, making her look years younger than fifty-three. “Every time I stand here, I think of you and your brother racing around the place from sun-up to sundown.” She smoothed her dark bangs from her eyes and her smile widened. “Of course, you were all wild pigtails, buckteeth, and knobby knees back then.”
“Don’t remind me.” Tab groaned. “I was the most awkward kid on the entire planet.”
“Don’t be so hard on yourself. Look at you, now, all gorgeous and sophisticated. It’s amazing how people change.” Tab’s mom cupped her cheek. The familiar soothing smells of Ivory Soap and lilac-scented perfume brought comfort. “But you haven’t changed so much that I don’t know when something’s bothering you. What’s going on? Your birthday is in three days. Why aren’t you on some big adventure with Jasmine or one of your other friends?”
Tab willed herself not to look away. “What? I’m not allowed to come home and celebrate my birthday with you anymore?”
“Don’t be cute. You know you can always come home, but you’re answering a question with a question. That means you’re holding something back. What is it?”
Her mom’s probing gaze held Tab’s. A lump formed in her throat. “I made someone angry.”
“It’s not Jasmine is it?” Carolyn chuckled. “I’ll never forget when the two of you got in a fight because you left her Barbie on the back porch and Mittenhead buried it in the backyard. When the two of you got back together, the way you both cried, you would have thought fifty years had gone by instead of one whole day.”
“She still brings it up, you know.” Tab laughed but sadness swept in. “It’s not Jasmine.” She poked the toe of her cowboy boot into the dirt. “I involved myself in something. He’s right. I shouldn’t have. I overstepped.”
“He?” Her mom frowned and then her brows rose. “Oh, I see.”
She pulled Tab to a fallen tree trunk. Bark pressed into the back of Tab’s jean-clad thighs when she sat down.
“Well, I can’t say that I’m surprised.” Her mom sighed. “You’ve always been a bit of a nosey busy-body.”
“That doesn’t make me feel better.”
“And it shouldn’t. What will make you feel better is if you’re honest about why you did it.” Her mom nudged her. “Does this ‘he’ we’re talking about have a name?”
“Drew. At the time, I honestly thought what I did was right, but I let someone hurt him. Now he won’t speak to me.” Tab kicked at a rock wedged into the ground. “He and Jasmine think I got involved because of what happened to Corey.”
“Was it?”
Tab loosened another rock with her boot. “Drew felt guilty about his past. I tracked down the person I thought could absolve him of his guilt.”
“Like you wanted for your brother.”
“Yes.” Tab’s chest tightened. “I thought Corey was okay after the accident. I didn’t know guilt was eating away at him until it was too late. I should have made time for him. If I had, Corey would have turned to me instead of pills and alcohol. I could have made him see it wasn’t his fault. If I had, he’d be here today. He’s gone, and it’s my fault.”
“Now you listen to me Tabitha Lynn.” The command in her mom’s tone snagged her attention. “Don’t you dare blame yourself for what happened to him. Corey chose not to see the truth, and he made his choices. You could have put him in a room with you and a hundred other people telling him he wasn’t to blame for what happened to Luke, but it wouldn’t have mattered.” Sorrow clouded her mom’s eyes. “We all tried. He just wasn’t ready. If you would have tried to force him into facing the issue, he would have pushed you away. Maybe even out of his life.”
Tab averted her eyes to the rolling pasture. An image of Corey, handsome, young and strong, bloomed in her mind. It wasn’t fair. He’d lived too full a life for it to end in a meaningless death. She blinked against sunlight and tears rapidly welled. “But he was my brother.” She heaved a breath. “He always looked out for me. I should have done a better job of taking care of him.”
“Oh, Sweet Pea.” Her mom wrapped her arm around Tab’s trembling shoulders. “You did what you could. You never stopped believing in him, and he knew you loved him. Had he lived to see the day when he was ready to believe in himself, you would have been the first person he reached out to.”
A sob escaped from Tab’s lips. “Oh, Mom, I miss him so much.” She buried her face into her mother’s chambray shirt.
“I know you do, baby. I do, too.” Her mom held her closer and inhaled a shaky breath. “But you have to let him go. If you don’t, you’ll keep making the same mistake you did with Drew. You’ll miss out on the good things in life. Corey wouldn’t have wanted that for you.”
A swell of sadness pushed out the tears she’d held back for years. She missed him not looking out for her, having Corey’s shoulder to lean on when she’d worn herself out and needed a safe haven. The day she’d gotten sick, Drew made her feel the same way. Inherently, she knew she could trust him with her fears, her secrets. She wanted to give him her heart, but with Shana in the way, it felt like there wasn’t room for her in his life. She wanted her gone and she’d pushed too far.
Her mom smoothed her hand up-and-down Tab’s back. “So what are you going to do about your guy?”
“What can I do?” Tab sniffed and wiped her eyes. “Jasmine said I stomped on his man-pride.”
“Well, if that’s the case, it probably will take a minute or two for him to get over feeling like you took a swipe at his gonads with a weed whacker.”
“Mom—not a good visual.”
“Did you apologize?”
“I tried.” Misery brought fresh tears. It was too late. She’d ruined everything. She’d even managed to screw up a birthday dare.
“Give Drew a little longer.” Her mom gave her a squeeze. “Pride is a fragile thing, and sometimes men need a while before they see reason.”
“But what if he doesn’t?”
Her mom shot her an admonishing look. “Baby girl, I raised you better than that. When you put your mind to it, you always find a way to work it out. Stop feeling sorry for yourself.” She tipped up Tab’s chin and looked directly in her eyes. “If you care about him in the way I think you do, don’t give up. Find another way.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
“Not good enough.” Drew stared down the five staff members sitting around the conference table. “This is an analysis of a volatile country, not a travel guide for a luxury vacation. Get your details straight, cut the irrelevant crap, and rewrite it. I expect a clean copy on my desk in the morning.”
His staff silently gathered their things and left. Drew sifted through the reports they hadn’t made it to because this one wasn’t done. An oil company sending executives near Somalia, cargo the government wanted delivered to Iraq, support needed in Afghanistan. Harrison Global was also on the list. Bob had finally agreed to send someone in to shadow his daughter in South America. They didn’t have time for do-overs and mess-ups, and he had a plane to catch in less than twenty-four hours. With all the work facing them, he shouldn’t go, but he needed this race to clear his mind.
He’d barred Tab from Bode-Wynn, but he couldn’t walk through his house without seeing her. Every time he did, it felt like a sucker punch. A scrunchie in the guest bathroom, a note she’d written to herself on his desk. A pizza takeout menu stuffed in a drawer, her box of Fruit Loops sitting on the shelf next to his oatmeal.
“Looks like I’m just in time.” Devin strolled into the conference room carrying two cardboard cups. Dressed in a crisp, white polo shirt emblemized with Bode-Wynn’s blue and red world logo and dark slacks, he appeared relaxed. He sat down, and the scent of Kona-blend permeated the air. “Which one—sugar, or sugar and cream?”
What the hell was Devin doing here? Did Margo forget to give him the message he was coming back to town? Worse, had the deal in California gone bus
t? Last time they’d talked, Devin had said he’d made progress getting the permits they needed to open their new facility.
“The first.” Drew took the cup. “You’re not supposed to be back until next week.”
“Plans change.”
He connected with his partner’s gray-eyed gaze. Irritation brewed hotter than the coffee in his hand. Bullshit. Someone had called him. “Who’s whining now? Forget it. I don’t want to know. Whatever the problem is, handle it. I have enough on my plate.”
“You don’t get a choice.” Devin planted his loafers wide and leaned back in the chair. A neatly trimmed mustache and beard framed the smile tipping up his mouth, but the angles of his light-brown face hardened with an implacable expression. “You’re the problem. Mitch called me. Before you throw the boss card, remember our friend’s agreement. We gave him and Ethan permission to speak up if they noticed an issue, and don’t say yours is the race. Yeah, you usually turn into an asshole right before you leave, but from what I’ve heard, you’ve turned into a straight up bastard.”
Drew took a sip of coffee and it scalded his tongue. “It comes with the job description, remember?”
“And sometimes you’re full of it, like now. He told me you and Tab hooked up, but something happened to piss you off.”
Devin had known him long enough to anticipate his thoughts, next moves, and what tore at his gut. They’d met eight years ago at a mutual friend’s house in D.C. A hypothetical conversation about the ideal government-security firm had started during a poker game and finished three months later over beers one night after a training exercise at Fort Bragg. The notes they’d scribbled on a napkin had actually made sense. Once their hitches in the military ended two years later, they decided to serve their country in a different way and started Bode-Wynn.
They’d barely gotten their footing when the accident happened. He’d walked out of the hospital, but it had taken time to get back up to speed mentally and fully pull his weight in the company. Devin had held things together.
Drew forced a deep breath. He couldn’t let Tab get in his headspace the same way Shana had. “We’re not going there.”
“Yes, we are.” A vein pulsed in Devin’s temple near the precisely cut edge of his ultra short fade. “Half the staff is set to quit and the rest want a transfer to Montana. Even Margo is shook up. The wrath of Drew is turning into a bad movie no one wants to stick around to watch. Tab’s your problem, and for a guy to be as angry as you are means one of two things. She lied or she cheated, so which is it?”
On some level, he wished she had done one of those things. Then he could hate her and let her go without a second thought. “She didn’t. Shana did.”
Devin almost spit out his coffee. “Shana? What does she have to do with this?”
Even as he heard himself say the words, he still couldn’t believe it. “Tab tracked Shana down and brought her to my house.”
“Why the fuck would she do that? Do they know each other?”
“No.” Drew sat heavily in the chair. “I told Tab about Shana and the accident. She thought we needed a reunion.” His partner didn’t respond. “In case you missed it, my silence is your cue.”
“What am I supposed to say?”
“Telling me what a gullible asshole I’ve been is a start.”
“I don’t know if I’d go that far. From what I know, Tab has her own way of interpreting things, but sometimes, she’s on point. Maybe seeing Shana again was for the best.”
“Yeah, for Shana. What’s that saying, confession is good for the soul? Well, her conscience is clear. She told me the truth about our relationship. She was unhappy for most of it. The only reason she stayed was because her father’s campaign advisers saw us being together as good for his image.”
Devin blew out a derisive snort. “I know it’s a ball buster, but are you really surprised? I told you her father was an underhanded sneaky bastard, but you told me you knew what you were getting into.”
“Because I believed Shana loved me. I thought we had trust, but guess what? She was cheating on me. The night of the accident, when we took a break at a rest stop, she called the guy, and they got into an argument.” Bitterness lodged in Drew’s throat. “She filled in the details of what I didn’t remember about the accident. When we were in the car, I mentioned our wedding plans, and she got angry. We crashed because she took her hands off the wheel to take off her engagement ring and throw it at me. She panicked when she saw the deer in the middle of the road and overcompensated.”
“Fuck.” Devin’s mouth remained open in disbelief.
“Her father’s campaign had survived her brother’s arrest for a DUI. Naming Shana as the cause of the accident would have interfered with his reelection. His advisors decided to spin the story as the courageous model losing everything and him being the supportive father at her side. He typed the letter and she signed it.”
“They took advantage of you not remembering.” An expression of disgust hardened Devin’s face. “Destroying your reputation and piling on the guilt was their way of neutralizing you.”
“Yeah, I guess it was. Even if I had remembered what happened, it would have been my word against hers. Blaming Shana, which I wouldn’t have done, would still have made me look bad. In the end, it didn’t matter. Lies fucked us both. If she would have told me the truth in the first place, we would have never been in the car and the accident wouldn’t have happened.”
It had taken everything within him those first two years after the accident to recover physically and get his shit together to not lose a grip on life.
“But it did happen,” Devin said, “and there’s nothing you can do about that. As sick as it sounds, Shana did you a favor. You were so into her, I don’t want to think about what would have happened if you’d found out about her and her father back then. Hell, I’d probably be visiting you in prison right now or some country with no U.S. extradition because you took them out.” He leaned in. “Think about it. Everything you went through made you better and stronger for the company. Fuck what she told you. It doesn’t matter now. Let it go and move on.” He blew out a long breath. “The big decision on your plate, now, is what to do about Tab.”
“There is no decision. She betrayed me, like Shana.”
“What?” Devin’s brows rose. “You honestly think Tab trying to help you compares to what Shana and her father did? Are you blind? Drive you crazy, yes. But I heard she made you smile. You went home at night instead of living in your office, and you actually took time off. And look at you—you even dress sharper.”
Running late, he’d grabbed the gray shirt and tie combo before he’d realized it. Tab had succeeded in her plan and met her endgame. Add another notch on her belt of successes. He was one more cause she’d championed to make herself feel good. Someone she had to make over because they were too helpless or lost to know better. He’d let his dick rule his actions because he’d thought she cared more about being with him than fixing him for the cause. Was she shocked by what happened when the Shana-bomb went nuclear? Probably. Was she hurt by what he’d said? From the look in her eyes, yes, but in her messages and calls, she’d never said sorry. And that told him everything. She didn’t believe she’d done anything wrong.
“Tab and I are over.”
Devin huffed out a wry chuckle. “And I bet you’re planning on bullshitting your way into believing it by focusing on this race and training your ass into the ground for the next one. But, you’ve got a problem. You don’t have five years of demons driving you now.”
“Did you not hear a word I said?” Drew slammed down his coffee and it sloshed on the table. He got up and paced. “Look. It doesn’t matter what Tab thought she was doing. She didn’t have a right to throw Shana in my face.”
“Fine.” Devin offered up a nonchalant shrug. “Feel sorry for yourself. Go ahead. Turn Tab into another demon that keeps you twisted up and looking over your shoulder. That’s been working really well for you, right?”
“Cuss me out all you want. It won’t change the truth. You’ve let what happened with Shana rule your life. If you leave it that way, you’ll drive your ass into the ground. Set that shit aside and start facing life.” His partner’s gray gaze speared him with a hard look. “It’s time for you stop running away and head toward what you really want.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
Drew wove through the crowd at the race expo. Various booths touted the latest and greatest in gear, supplements, and all things triathlon related, but he didn’t stop. He had a plan. Pick up the race packet. Get body marked, and attend the course briefing on what to expect tomorrow. Then, drive out to the restaurant he’d found online for his usual night-before a race meal. After that, back to the hotel for a good night’s sleep. Exactly what he needed: regimen, discipline, no surprises.
He went to the end of the appropriate registration line. Relaxed seasoned veterans stood out from the newbies loaded down with literature, samples, and new purchases. When he’d first started, he’d made the mistake of buying a pair of cool-looking swimming goggles at an expo the day before a race. They’d leaked like a sieve and made the swim portion of his race hell. Lesson learned—never try anything new without testing it out first.
Something soft smacked against his calf. Bright green eyes widened with shock stared up at him. The blonde-haired toddler’s expression wavered between tears and curiosity. She decided on the latter. Face scrunched in determination, she got a good grip on the leg of his jeans and pulled herself up.
“Hannah, come here. Sorry about that. She got away from me.” A well-built, blond-haired man picked the toddler up and tickled her tummy. She giggled. “Maybe you should run this triathlon instead of me.” He turned. “I’m Peter, and as you may have guessed, this little dynamo is my daughter, Hannah.”