by Jenna Brandt
He made his way downstairs and headed to the concierge desk. He wasn’t sure if she would be there, but he figured it was worth a shot. “Hello, can I speak with Tara Wilson, please?” he asked the young redhead behind the desk that was clicking away on a keyboard. Her name tag read: Simone.
“May I ask who’s wanting to speak with her?” Simone glanced up, then her eyes grew wide with recognition. “I’m sorry, Mr. McAllister, she’s not available right now. Is there anything I can help you with?”
Wade didn’t like being brushed off, and it was clear that was what Tara was doing with him. He wasn’t sure what was going on with her, but he was going to find out. “Look, I’m not a stupid man. I know she told you to tell me that if I showed up here; however, that’s not going to work for me. Go tell your boss that I’m not leaving until I talk to her, and if that means I miss my flight, so be it.”
Simone bit her lip, and tapped her fingers on the edge of the counter, as if trying to figure out what to do. “I’ll go tell Miss Wilson that you’re here,” she said reluctantly, before turning around to leave.
The young concierge disappeared through a back door. A few minutes later, Tara came back through the same one. She looked good in her cream suit with a blue silk blouse. Her blonde hair was pinned up and she was wearing just a hint of makeup, letting her natural beauty shine through. He was glad to see her, but from the frown on her face, he could tell it wasn’t mutual.
“Yes, Mr. McAllister, what can I do for you?” Tara inquired stiffly, coming to stand on the other side of the counter across from him. She seemed to be all business, and her normal friendly demeanor was nowhere to be found.
“I was hoping we could talk in private,” he said, gesturing to a sitting area further down the hall.
“I don’t really see the point, but since you’re the club’s guest for a little while longer, I suppose I can accommodate you, Mr. McAllister.”
She moved from behind the concierge counter and followed him over to the sitting area. He took a seat in one of the chairs and motioned for her to do the same. She glanced at the seat, and he could tell she was debating whether she was going to stay long enough to warrant it. After a couple of seconds, she reluctantly took a seat opposite him. “What’s this all about, Mr. McAllister? I thought you had an enjoyable time at the club, and were ready to head back to New York now that it’s over.”
“That’s true. This had been a wonderful experience, up until last night. Truthfully, Tara, I don’t get what’s going on. You’ve been acting odd ever since the garden in Scotland. One moment, we shared a kiss and a dance, and I thought we really connected, and the next moment, you were icing me out. I don’t know what happened, but if you tell me, we can fix it.”
“That’s just it, Mr. McAllister, there’s nothing to fix. You keep wanting there to be something more than there is. I don’t understand why you can’t see that.”
“Quit pretending that there wasn’t something going on between us—that it’s not still going on even though you want to act like it isn’t.”
“I think what’s going on is that you found your old passion for painting, and that’s created a euphoric feeling for you. I get that, it makes sense, but that doesn’t mean you need to transfer it over to what happened between us.”
“That’s not what happened. I did realize that painting was a missing piece of my life, but it wasn’t the only missing piece in my life,” he explained, reaching out and taking her hands in his own. “I also realized that I want to share my life with someone else, and I was hoping you might feel the same way.”
“What happened between us was a mistake, and I should have never let it happen. I nearly lost my job because of it,” she said, pulling her hands away from his and folding them in her lap. “I shouldn’t even be here talking with you like this. The staff might get the wrong idea and tell my boss.”
“I’m sorry that I got you into trouble, but what we shared wasn’t a mistake, Tara. I care about you, and I want to see if we could work together in the real world,” he pleaded, hoping she would see how sincere he was.
Tara shook her head ardently. “I just can’t risk my job. You don’t understand how important my career is to me. I’ve worked too hard to get where I am to throw it away on a chance to date you.”
“You keep using your job as an excuse, but I know there’s something else going on. Why won’t you tell me what it is?”
Her eyes darted down to the ground and she paused for a couple of seconds before answering. “I’m happy that you’ve decided to start painting again. You’ll see in time, that’s what really matters. I’m just a concierge that helped you find what you really needed in your life. Once you have some distance, you’ll see I’m right.” She glanced over at the concierge desk, then stood up. “I have to get back to work. I’m preparing for another guest to arrive.”
As Wade watched her walk away, he realized there was no point in chasing after her and trying to argue his point further. Whatever had scared her off wasn’t going away. She refused to tell him and, because of this, he could not figure out a way around it. No matter how hard he tried, he wasn’t going to be able to get her to see that it was worth taking the risk.
Wade was leaving the Billionaire Birthday Club with bittersweet memories. He was grateful for what he re-gained by the experience, but he wished he could have left with more. He wished he could have left knowing that Tara wanted to be with him as much as he wanted to be with her. Walking away from her was one of the hardest things he ever had to do. He wasn’t sure how long it was going to take him to let go of the possibility of what they could have been.
Chapter Eight
A month had passed, and Tara wondered when it would get easier for her to let go of Wade. She had thought once he was gone, that would do the trick, but she had been wrong. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t stop thinking about him.
“Are you ready for the arrival of our newest guest tomorrow?” Simone asked, handing her a list of requests she needed to fulfill for other guests staying at the resort.
Tara nodded her head. “Yes, everything is ready for Mr. Moncliff’s birthday celebration. I think, however, it’s time for you to take this one,” she said, handing her the dossier on the energy mogul billionaire.
“Are you sure?” Simone asked, gulping as she took the folder from her boss. “I haven’t handled a billionaire of this caliber by myself. What if I mess it up?”
“You won’t. I have every confidence in you, Simone. You’re good at your job and you’ve been learning the finer points from me.”
“Thank you, Tara, I really appreciate your saying that,” Simone said with a smile. “You’ve been a great mentor to me.”
“You’re welcome, Simone. It’s been a joy working with you.” Tara pulled out her phone and glanced down at the clock. “Since all of the guests are good for today, and Luke is covering the concierge desk, why don’t you clock out for tonight. You’re going to have an early day tomorrow.”
“Are you sure? I don’t want to leave you to do the last bit of work by yourself.”
Tara shook her head, gesturing for her to go. “Don’t worry about it. You should know by now, I’m all about my work.”
The truth was, Tara wanted to keep working. When she wasn’t, memories of Wade came flooding into her mind. She didn’t want to think about him and how great she felt when she had been with him. Kissing him had been the best moment she’d had in years, but she knew she couldn’t let herself care when he was still in love with another woman. It was better to not try at all, than to try and get hurt.
“Okay, I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Sure thing, Simone, and make sure to text or call if you need anything.”
Tara spent the next couple of hours going over her notes for the past couple of guests and going over the questionnaires for the next few week’s billionaires. She needed to decide which one of her employees were going to be assigned to which billionaires so they could start planning their
experiences.
By the time she was done, she was yawning from exhaustion, which was exactly what she needed. She couldn’t think about Wade if she was sleeping.
She made her way to her apartment in the employee villa. She made a quick bite to eat in her kitchen. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Wade’s painting. It had been turned around facing the wall, but something must have caused it to fall over. She had debated about getting rid of it, considering every time she saw it, it made her sad about giving up her chance to be with him. She couldn’t bring herself to do it. Each time she tried, she would remember the joy on his face as he had painted it, prompting her to put the painting back up against the wall.
Tara moved over to where it was laying now and picked it up. She glanced at the picture, still awed by how truly talented Wade was. The use of his colors made the flowers from the garden seem almost like they were real. She felt like she could reach out and touch them, even though they were set against an abstract background.
Rather than flip the picture around this time, she set it against the wall facing out. It couldn’t hurt to have it that way for a while. She finished her iced tea, deciding it was time to go to sleep. She was headed down the hall to her bedroom, but before she made it, there was a knock at her door.
“Hold on just a moment,” Tara called out, turning around and heading to the front of her place. She swung the door open to reveal Luke standing on the other side with a package in his hands.
“Hi, Tara, I meant to bring this over sooner, but the concierge desk got busy and I didn’t have time until now.” Luke pushed the package towards her.
“What is it?” she said, accepting the rectangular item that was wrapped in brown paper.
Luke shrugged. “I have no idea. It has an address from Scotland, though. I think I recognize the name from that artist you had here a couple of weeks back.”
“Thanks, Luke, for bringing this over. I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”
He nodded his head and turned around to leave as she shut the door. She headed back into her living room, then sat down on her couch. She stared at the package for several seconds before deciding to finally open it.
To her complete shock, it was Wade’s painting of the woman in blue. It was still just as beautiful and haunting as she remembered it from the day they saw it in Ian’s art gallery. It didn’t matter that the woman in the painting was Wade’s long lost love, it was still the most breathtaking piece of art Tara had ever seen. She just didn’t understand why Ian would have sent it to her. She supposed she would have to call him tomorrow and ask. For now, she needed to figure out what to do with the painting.
Letting out a heavy sigh, Tara decided she could make a decision about the painting tomorrow after she slept on it. She pulled the painting the rest of the way out of the wrapper, causing a note to slip out. She picked it up and read the contents:
Dear Tara,
I’m sending you Wade’s painting. I noticed the connection between the two of you. I did my best to try to steer you both in the direction of love and thought you were headed there. Imagine my surprise when I found out that Wade left the island alone, with no plans to further your relationship.
I don’t want you to make the same mistake I did when I was young. Your situation reminds me of my time with my one true love, Camilla. Not many people know about her, but I met her when I was in my twenties. I thought I had all the time in the world, but she died way too young and I never found love like that again.
I don’t know what happened between the two of you, but I think it has something to do with this painting. I saw your reaction when you saw it, or more specifically, your reaction to Wade’s reaction to it. That’s why I’m giving it to you. I think you need to see it again, and this time with the title for it, “Mother.”
Like this painting, Tara, you need to realize that Wade is a rare treasure. You shouldn’t let him slip through your fingers. I hope you do the right thing and fight for him.
Your Forever Friend,
Ian
Mother? The title of the painting was “Mother.” All this time, she thought the painting was of a lost lover, but it hadn’t been. Yes, it was of a woman he loved, but not the way Tara had thought. She had jumped to the wrong conclusion, and been too hurt to question Wade further about it. What a fool she had been to do that.
Was it too late now to try to fix things? Had she done too much damage by rejecting him? Was it better to just send the painting to Wade and let the past be in the past? It was his, after all, and he had mentioned being upset that he had chosen to part with it in the first place. Of course, that meant making contact with him, and she wasn’t sure if he would even let that happen, or what his response would be if she tried.
The more Tara thought about it, the more she realized she had made a huge mistake by giving up on Wade. Though she fought against it and continually denied it, she had feelings for him. It didn’t matter if it had started in an unexpected, unconventional way. What mattered was that she cared about him and needed to tell him. Even if he didn’t want to give her a chance now, she would at least know she gave it her best try.
Tara stood up and moved over to place the painting by the other one of Wade’s. She opened her laptop at the table and clicked away on the buttons. Before she could second guess her decision, she had booked herself a flight to New York for the next day.
No matter how hard Wade tried, he couldn’t help but think about Tara whenever he didn’t keep his mind busy. Lucky for him, he was able to find a lot of busy work between his TV show and his baking brand.
Today, he was at his Manhattan office finalizing the guest judges for the next season of his baking competition. He had back-to-back appointments with some of the biggest names in the pastry chef world.
“Your next appointment is going to be here in a little over an hour, Mr. McAllister,” Frederick said, coming into his office and handing Wade his lunch. “I got you the baked salmon and rice that you like so much from the café around the corner.”
Wade put the bag on his desk without looking up. “Thank you, Frederick. That’s all for now.”
“I’ll be at my desk if you need anything else,” his assistant said as he pulled the door shut behind him.
Wade pulled out the items and placed them in front of him. As he ate his lunch, Tara came drifting back into his mind. He remembered how much she loved salmon, and how they had that in common. He was certain she would have liked the Mediterranean café around the corner, and he wished he could have taken her there. The problem was, no matter how much he still liked her, it didn’t change what happened between them. He still couldn’t figure out what went wrong, why she switched from being open to closed off so quickly. He didn’t believe it was just because of her work, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t figure out what caused her to change.
His intercom buzzed and Wade clicked the button. “What is it, Frederick?”
“There’s a woman here who claims to know you from the vacation you took a couple weeks back for your birthday. She says her name is Tara Wilson.”
Wade leaned back in his chair, stunned by the news. Tara was here? Why? What did she want? She had made it really clear when he left the island that she didn’t want anything more to do with him. Never in a million years would he have thought she would come all the way to New York to see him.
“Should I send her away?”
“No, no, don’t do that,” Wade said, realizing he had waited too long to respond. “Send her in.”
Wade composed himself behind his desk, straightening his navy-blue suit jacket and tie, then brushing his hand through his hair to make sure it was in place.
As soon as Tara walked through the door, he could feel his breath hitch in his chest. She looked amazing in a green blouse and black skirt. Her hair was down today, and thick with golden curls that bounced around her shoulders. He had to resist the urge to stand up and come around to pull her close. He so wanted to run his finge
r through the soft, silk strands and smell the lavender scent that always lingered on her skin.
“What are you doing here, Tara?”
“I have something for you,” she said, moving forward to hand him the package that she held in her arms.
“What is it?”
“Just open it,” she gently ordered.
He did as she requested, and to his surprise, it was his painting that Ian Campbell owned. “How did you get this?”
“Ian sent it to me.”
“Why would he do that?”
“He thought I should have it,” she explained. “But it doesn’t belong to me; it belongs to you. It’s why I brought it here, to give it back to you.”
“You could have just mailed it,” he countered, looking up at her to read her face as he said the next part. “You didn’t have to come here.”
A look of hurt crossed her face, and her own eyes drifted down to the ground. “You’re right; I didn’t have to. I wanted to, but I guess my worst fears were right. I’m too late.”
“Too late for what?” Wade asked, setting the painting down on his desk and standing up. He came around to stand in front of her, reaching out to pull her face up so he could look her in the eyes.
“I made a mistake, Wade. I jumped to the wrong conclusion about the painting. I thought it was of a past girlfriend you hadn’t gotten over. You seemed to love her so much; I didn’t think there was room for me in your heart. It wasn’t until Ian sent the picture and wrote me a letter explaining the name of the painting that I realized I had it all wrong. Why didn’t you just tell me the painting was of your mother?”
“Would it have made a difference?”
“Yes, absolutely,” she said, nodding her head up and down.
“Losing my mother to lung disease three years ago was one of the hardest things I ever went through. It’s hard to talk about her and how much she meant to me. If I had known that was the reason you pushed me away, I would have though. I would have done anything to get you to give me a chance.”