by Brenna Zinn
Bennett’s throat constricted. “That’s a lot of talk, Lyle. Words are easy. Action takes effort.”
“Don’t I know it.”
The scraping noise of a barstool moving sounded. The heels of Lyle’s boots clopped on the marble tile. Soon the old man’s papery hand rested on Bennett’s biceps. The gentle gesture was like a lighthouse shining a beacon into the tempest raging in Bennett’s soul.
Lyle turned Bennett around. Jaw and cheeks slack and eyes tilted downward, the old man had never looked so pained. “I can’t do this on my own, son. If we want things between us to improve, I’m going to need your help too.”
There had been a time in which he hoped to hurt his father. Repay the insensitive old coot for his many years of suffering. But seeing Lyle so utterly shattered wasn’t making him feel better. Not one bit. Just the opposite. And although the wild mishmash of emotions that had burdened him since childhood still churned, the intensity eased. Just unloading on his father and ridding himself of his pent-up bitterness had soothed some of his raw feelings.
Bennett nodded.
“Okay,” Lyle said, sounding weak and contrite. “We can start with Iron Rods. I’ll talk to Dan today about stopping the renovations. We’ll tear the old building down and build something new. Just promise me that whatever we put in its place looks as though it’s been there since Austin was a cattle town.”
Getting the green light to demolish the building and business he’d come to hate with a passion should have made Bennett want to leap for joy. At least it should have provided some kind of spiteful satisfaction. It did neither. Instead, he felt hollow inside. An empty cup waiting to be filled by the fruition of his father’s promises.
He wanted a strong relationship with his father. To create the types of family ties he never had growing up. Striking back at his father by eliminating Iron Rods wouldn’t help with those endeavors. As much as he despised the seedy strip club, even he understood that. Deep down inside, he always had.
“No,” Bennett interjected. “It took a while, but since I moved back I’ve come to some surprising conclusions about this town. You were right about keeping Austin’s integrity. Iron Rods has been around forever. It’s a landmark. A part of the city like the bats.” The memory of the night he’d shared with Tatum on South Congress flashed in his mind. That night he’d seen Austin as he had so long ago. The city he still loved deep down. “Austin wouldn’t be the same without it.”
The old man stepped back. With teary eyes, he searched Bennett as though seeing him, really seeing him, for the first time. “Well, son-bitch. I can’t believe my ears.”
Bennett hardly believed his ears either. Maybe he was still asleep. Maybe he truly had drunk too much of the crazy water.
“Seems we might be on to something pretty good here, son,” Lyle said, placing the Susan B in Bennett’s palm and squeezing his hand shut. “Now if we can get Tatum to stay put, we’ll be in high cotton.”
Grabbing hold of his faithful talisman, Bennett nodded as a loud sigh full of regret blew from his mouth.
“Done screwed the pooch, have you, boy?” the old man asked.
“I think so.”
Who was he kidding? Of course he’d screwed things up. He’d be lucky if Tatum even talked to him again. Sure, she’d told him that she’d fallen for him, but he’d put her in a terrible position. Played with her emotions. What kind of man did something like that?
A royal fuckup like me, that’s who.
“Do you love her?”
If there was one thing Bennett knew for certain, it was that he loved her. He loved the way she looked, her smell, her feistiness. He loved everything about the tall Texan, especially the way she showed she cared for him. She was someone he could count on. Someone he could trust. Someone whose company always brightened his day. In just the short time he’d been without her in New York, he’d been completely miserable for missing her so badly.
“Yes. I do.” Bennett straightened his back and looked his father dead in the eye. “Very much.”
“Then learn from your father’s mistakes.” Lyle pointed to the wall of glass. “Go out there and make amends. If she’s important to you, do whatever it takes to make things right. Show her you care. Show her how important she is.”
Bennett rubbed the back of his neck. “I have no idea where to begin.”
“You’re a smart man with a Harvard education. You’ll figure this out. But you’d better get a move on. You don’t have much time.”
* * * * *
Tatum stood on the stoop outside her condo and waved at Heather, who waved back from the passenger seat of the silver farm truck pulling out of the parking lot. As was her roommate’s weird luck, the handsome man driving the truck was none other than Officer Murphy of the Austin Fire Department, and they were headed off into the most gorgeous sunset Tatum had seen in months. The sky burst with colors ranging from a deep orange-red to a soft petal pink.
Of course, having to have her hand removed from the garbage disposal hadn’t been a part of Heather’s plan to see the violet-eyed firefighter again. At least not any plan Tatum had wind of. She and her accident-prone roomie were simply cleaning up after a quiet lunch when, for some reason, Heather stuck her hand down into the tiny hole the builder of the condo had the nerve to call a disposal unit. After forty-five minutes of trying to dislodge the trapped hand, the fire department had been called. Lo and behold, a smiling Officer Murphy and a few other firefighters had shown up minutes later and freed the damsel in distress from the jaws of the Scraps-O-Gator.
Now Heather and Officer Murphy, the misfit and her savior, were off on their first date while Tatum stayed home to contemplate her future and sort through all the madness that had been thrown her way. And heartache. She couldn’t forget to add heartache to the pile heaping on her plate.
Tatum lowered herself onto the stoop and gazed at the fading sunset as the agonizing choice she had to make loomed before her.
If she left for New York, she would realize her life’s dream. She’d be dancing professionally for Haute, one of the hottest musicals on Broadway. Every night before hundreds of people she would be onstage wearing beautiful costumes and expressing herself through her art. This is what she’d slaved for since she was five. If she didn’t take this opportunity, there wouldn’t be another. She was twenty-six and six feet tall. The odds of winning the Texas state lotto were better than her getting another chance at being a professional dancer. Having the insane fortune of being offered a spot on a Tony-nominated show was truly once in a lifetime.
On the other end of the spectrum, staying in Austin meant she could continue to work at a job she liked and make good money doing it, not to mention seeing the accomplishments of her efforts in revamping the business and working with the staff. She also had the opportunity to explore teaching dance. The sense of pride and fulfillment she’d experienced helping Steele, his daughter and his daughter’s friends had been greater than she ever could have guessed.
And then there was her bold and sexy John Wayne. Every fiber in her body told her that she loved Bennett. He’d said he loved her too, which made what he had done so hard to understand. He’d gone out of his way, all the freakin’ way to New York, to personally pull strings with Alan Sanders and help her land a job offer. Had that been a display of extreme selflessness, a true demonstration of love, or a way to get her out of his life? If he loved her like he said he did, why would he want her to leave?
No matter what choice she made, she would lose. A big part of her heart would be lost forever with either alternative. She’d thought through her situation all day. There simply was no compromise.
She pulled a tall weed from a row of flowers edging the concrete stoop. One after another, she ripped the leaves off the unwanted plant. The weed, in so many ways, was just like her. Forces beyond their control tore at them, leaving them both a pile of jagged pieces.
Making matters just a little worse, Bennett hadn’t even called that day. N
o, sorry I fucked up your life flowers had been sent. No drive by to apologize. If he thought he had done her a favor by getting Alan Sanders to offer her a job, he couldn’t have been more wrong.
Then again, maybe screwing with her head and putting the opening of Iron Rods in jeopardy had been his plan all along. Who knew what the slick New Yorker was thinking? Not her, that was for sure.
But he says he’s fallen in love with me. He isn’t the kind of guy who would use the L-word lightly. Is he?
A tear formed at the corner of her eye and ran over the side of her cheek. By the time she angrily swiped at her face with the back of her hand, another tear had blazed a hot trail and then another.
They were doomed for failure anyway, she reminded herself. He was the rich man from the big city. She was the six foot misfit from West Texas. Oil and water. Hatfields and McCoys. They would have to be nuts to think they could make a serious go out of their relationship. Right?
Covering her face with her hands, she fought the overwhelming impulse to have a full-blown cry. It was a good thing she had convinced Heather to go out tonight rather than stay and try to console her. There would be no consoling. Not tonight. Not until she had made up her mind. Tonight she needed time alone to get her shit in one sock, as her mother used to tell her. She had ice cream in the freezer, a new bag of Baby Ruth bars in the pantry and a bottle of chocolate wine chilling in the fridge. All the makings for a perfect pity party.
As she stood to eat her way through the candy and call in an order to Home Slice Pizza for the biggest cheesy pie they baked, a sports car pulled into the parking lot. Bennett’s six-foot-four frame climbed out. In the months she’d known him, she’d never seen him in jeans. The pair he wore was faded a light blue, and they didn’t appear as though he’d bought them that way. These were the lived-in kind, as were the old snip toe boots covering his feet. In his big hands he held the handles to a shiny white gift bag.
She didn’t know if she wanted to rip off his face for making her so miserable or run into his arms and tell him to never let her go. The emotions gurgling in her system like a witch’s brew kept her rooted to the spot.
“You still talking to me?” he asked.
Backlit by the colorful sunset, he looked like a handsome movie star from some Technicolor Western. The only things missing were a horse and a Stetson.
Her heart ached to touch him. But he deserved to grovel. He actually deserved a lot more than that, but groveling was a good start.
Not wanting to give him the satisfaction of a spoken response and unsure she would be able to open her mouth without sobbing, she answered by crossing her arms and shooting him her best narrow-eyed, rot-in-hell glare.
“Okay. I see how this is going.” He gestured to the door with the hand holding the bag. “Mind if I say a few things in private?”
Tatum frowned and shrugged before turning around and opening the door.
She couldn’t imagine what he could possibly say. Whether his motives were for her benefit or for his, he’d managed to make a hot mess out of her life. It was his fault that she had only a few hours to make one of the biggest decisions in her life.
After heading straight to the small kitchen table, Tatum sat down and crossed her legs to match her crossed arms. No way would she let him see what an emotional basket case she was deep inside. She had to at least appear to be strong. Show that he hadn’t hurt her one little bit.
Bennett closed the door and set the bag on a counter. After a moment of standing there and staring at her, he opened his mouth to speak.
“I’m not the type of man who lets people get too close. I’ve been hurt a few times and I had no intention of ever letting that happen again.”
She let out an audible sigh and fidgeted in her chair.
“Regardless of my past, what I did to you was a huge mistake,” he continued. “I want to fix things, if I can.”
She lifted her head but remained silent.
He reached into the bag and pulled out a small foil-wrapped box with a tiny bow. She felt her eyes grow round. A lump formed in her throat.
What was he up to?
“I want to offer you this.” He placed the box on the table inches from where she sat and stepped away. “You can turn me down if you want.”
Heart thundering, she glanced at the box and then back at him.
“Open it.” He pushed the package closer to her. “Please.”
The quiet pleading in his voice melted her stiffened spine. She picked up the box with a shaking hand. Slowly she slipped off the ribbon and carefully separated the tape from the foil paper. Inside the fancy wrapping was a jewelry box. Her stomach flipped. She bit her lip as she lifted the lid.
A shining silver key rested on a lining of red satin within the box. Her flipping stomach fell with a sickening plop.
“What is this?”
“It’s a key to my apartment in New York. If you decide you want to accept the job Alan offered you and move to New York, I want you to have a nice place to stay. The place overlooks Central Park. You can’t beat the views from the living room windows.”
“A key? You’re giving me a key?” Her voice rose with her rising incredulity and hurt feelings. He was practically giving her the boot, leaving little doubt he wanted her to get the hell out of Dodge.
“Well, if you don’t like that, you probably won’t like this either.” He pulled a second foil-covered box from the bag and handed it to her.
This time she ripped through the wrapping, tossing the shredded paper to the floor, and flung open the box. Inside sat another key.
He pointed at his gift. “This one is to my condo in Austin.”
Disbelief confounded her already confused brain. “What?”
“If you decide to stay, I want you to move in with me. And not in my guest room,” he clarified.
Before she could make heads or tails of what he was doing long enough to reply, he pulled out a third box.
“Another one?” Her high-pitched tone sounded as if it had been belted from a soprano opera singer rather than coming from her own mouth. “Just how many frigging apartments do you own?”
Bennett stood before her and then bent to one knee. In one hand he held the box. With the other, he gently took hers.
Her eyes clouded over. The lump in her throat instantly tripled in size.
“I told you last night that I’ve fallen in love with you. I have. I’ve never been in love with anyone before. Between this morning and this moment, I’ve been out of my mind just thinking of a life without you in it.” He squeezed her palm. “I chartered a jet to New York and back today to pick this up. It was my mother’s. I want you to have it.”
He released her hand and opened the unwrapped box. Inside, a ring with two small diamonds flanking the sides of a larger diamond sat in between cushions of blue velvet.
Tears fell unbidden down her face. Her entire body quivered. God. He was killing her.
He removed the ring from its resting place and slipped it onto the ring finger of her right hand. “Tatum, this ring is a pledge of my love. As long as you wear it, you’ll have my heart.” He smiled. “And I never want to have it back. I hope you’ll keep it forever.”
Bright dots appeared before her eyes. Her head reeled. Just what did all this mean?
She worked her mouth but her tongue was almost too thick to speak. “Ahh,” she started awkwardly. “Is this a proposal?”
His smile broadened and he shook his head. “Not yet. When the time is right there will be, as well as another ring.” He nodded to his mother’s ring. “Let’s just call this one a very special gift.”
She looked down and marveled at the beautiful, glittering ring on her finger. Whoever picked it out the first time had done a brilliant job. The white gold setting bore a touch of an antique look about it. Though the center diamond had to be slightly over a carat, it wasn’t too flashy. Simply perfect.
“I love it. I really do. And I love you too.” Tatum slipped the ring f
rom her finger and placed it on the table. “But I can’t accept it.”
Her refusal seemed to catch him completely off guard. He stared at her open-mouthed and his wide smile disappeared.
“Why not?”
“For lots of reasons, including the fact that I may take the job in New York.” She took in a breath for encouragement. She had to build up her emotional strength to say what needed to be said. “I never wanted to have to decide between love and my career, but you forced my hand. If I leave, I don’t want a long-distance romance. If I stay, I don’t want to continue worrying about you doing something that will cause Iron Rods to close. You’ve made your desire to destroy it and build something else in its place crystal clear. So I’m in a no-win situation here.”
Bennett got down on both knees and placed her hands in his. “You don’t have to worry about Iron Rods. I don’t want to tear it down anymore.”
This time she was the one caught off guard.
“You don’t?”
“No.”
“But I don’t understand. What happened? Why did you change your mind?”
He rubbed her palms with his thumbs, making small circles in the fleshy center. “Because I’ve learned a few things since I’ve moved back to Austin. Especially about what’s important in life.”
“But—” She started, and was cut short.
“If you want to dance in the Haute production, I’ll move back to New York. I wouldn’t want a long-distance relationship either,” he said, answering the question before she could ask it. “If I live there, I can telecommute here and occasionally fly back and forth to take care of business with Truitt Holdings. If that doesn’t work out, I’ll go back to work for Ashton Paper Products. Either way, I plan on being with you.”
He was offering her everything she could have ever wanted. Her dream career, a bold and handsome man to call her own and commitment. It all seemed too good to be true.