by Leger, Lori
“You know, most parents would be thrilled their daughter is a successful surgeon, but not you and father. Neither of you give a damn about that. I’ve got money, Mother—money I earned myself. All you care about is how much I can add to the family coffer by marrying a rich husband.”
“Money can bring comfort to a woman that a husband won’t.”
Tiffany placed her hand over her eyes. “Don’t you love Drake and me enough to want us happy? Have you ever loved us?”
“How dare you say such a thing to me? You have no idea how many sacrifices I’ve made for you and your brother! We’ve given you everything you ever wanted. We paid to send you both to the finest schools. The least you could do is to show us gratitude.”
Tiffany laughed. “Do you even know which college I attended, mother?”
“I’m sure it was the finest money could buy.”
“Louisiana State University in Baton Rouge. I went on a full scholarship because of my grades. My counselor and I filled out all of the papers ourselves because you said father wouldn’t pay for my college unless I went to law school.”
“We’d have paid to send you to Harvard.”
“I didn’t want to be a lawyer.”
“You always were too obstinate for your own good.”
“I graduated at the top of my class in med school.”
“What has that got to do with anything?”
“I don’t owe you and father a damn thing for my education! I took out school loans and paid every dime of it back. Two years later you sent Drake to Harvard when he wanted to be with me at LSU. I convinced him to go to Harvard because it was the best education money could buy.”
Tiffany stood up to pace the floor as she continued to rant. “So, if you think I’m going to give up everything to marry a spoiled, self-centered, cheating asshole like Tanner, you’re wrong. I’ll choose my own husband or I’ll choose not to marry at all. But I will do the choosing, do you understand me? And don’t you dare send father over here, because I’ll tell him the same thing!”
“Tiffany, you will be shaming me in front of our entire circle of friends,” her mother screeched. “I’ll be a social outcast after this.”
“Oh mother, for crying out loud, you act as if this is the nineteenth century.”
“Tiffany Danielle, don’t you trivialize this situation!”
Tiffany couldn’t have stopped the short burst of laughter if she’d wanted to. “Everything about this situation is trivial, Mother!” The ensuing icy silence reigned supreme.
“Well,” her mother finally huffed into the phone. “I have no need of ungrateful children.”
One single click of the phone and it went dead. Tiffany dropped to the couch, and threw the phone on the cushion. Her laughter began as a quiet chuckle, gaining strength, until it bordered on hysteria. The journey from hysteria to tears proved to be short and very unexpected.
Sniveling and needing to talk to someone who gave a damn about her, she attempted to call Drake. By the time his voicemail picked up, she was crying too hard to leave a message.
What had she ever done to deserve getting so little love from either of her parents? Red’s last words telling her to be strong rang through her head, and she threw her shoulders back, straightening her spine. She’d learned to be independent and strong at an early age, had always taken immense pride in her strength. She had friends and co-workers who relied heavily on their partners in times of trouble. What must it be like, just for once, to rely on someone else’s strength?
Her phone rang, flashing Red’s name across the screen. She answered, sniffling into a tissue.
“I couldn’t stand it, Doc. I had to call. Are you okay?”
Red’s voice, saturated with concern for her, turned into her undoing. Within seconds, she was blubbering uncontrollably, totally incapable of intelligent speech.
Nothing could have prepared Red for the sound of Tiffany’s heartbroken sobs.
“What happened?” he said, ready to kill, or at least cripple the person responsible for her tears.
“Red,” she sputtered.
“Are you alone?”
“Y-y-yes.”
“Can you talk to me?”
She choked out a tortured sob. “No.”
Red waited only a moment before making a decision. “Pack a bag. Whatever you need to hold you over until tomorrow. I’m picking you up.”
He grabbed the keys to his car and his cell phone on his way out the door. Thanks to Giselle, he knew exactly where Tiffany lived, and floored it until he stood in front of the condo she shared with Tanner.
His breath caught in his throat as Tiffany opened the door. He took in the puffy, tearstained face, her faded jeans and tee shirt, and longed to hold her close. She covered her face, sobbing quietly into her hands. He suspected that by tomorrow she’d be embarrassed over breaking down in front of him, but right now she seemed too upset to care.
He lifted the overnight bag at her feet, looped the strap over his shoulder. He picked up her purse and keys from a table near the door then placed his arm around her. “Come on, Doc, I’m taking you away from here.”
She nodded and stepped out into the frosty night air. As Red leaned in to shut the door, she lifted one hand to stop him. He watched with a strange mixture of sadness and delight, as she slipped the multi-carat emerald cut diamond from her left hand. She stepped inside to hang it on a key hook next to the door then left the apartment. He pulled the door shut behind her and walked her to his car.
Enveloped by the decked out Camaro’s warm interior, and heated leather seats, Tiffany’s head lolled back on the headrest. Her eyes drifted closed as silent tears streamed down her face. A fresh round of heart-wrenching sobs had him reaching out to cover her hand with his. She clutched his hand tightly throughout the drive home, giving him a whole new appreciation for automatic transmission packages.
Less than ten minutes later, he dropped her bags at the door and led a shivering Tiffany to the still blazing fireplace. He positioned her back to the fire and rubbed her arms and hands briskly for a minute.
“What’s going on, Doc?” He stopped to gently tilt her chin up as her tears continued to flow.
She shook her head. “I d-don’t know. I n-never c-cry, but I c-can’t s-stop.”
He clenched his jaw, angry at the people in her life who’d brought her to this state of sadness—her parents and Tanner. He pulled her into his arms, allowing her to cry out her misery and sorrow onto his chest. He held her tightly, rubbing his hands over her back, occasionally placing his hand on the back of her head to massage her scalp. After a full ten minutes, the tears slowed, and eventually stopped.
“Better now?”
She nodded.
“Want something to drink? Water? A glass of wine?” He lifted one finger. “You’ll notice I didn’t offer tequila. I’m trying to be a gentleman.”
She nodded. “B-beer?”
He smiled and walked around to his bar area. He opened a bottle of beer and brought it to her.
She took a sip. “Thank you.”
“Now, tell me what happened.”
She closed her eyes, bit her bottom lip to keep from crying, and shook her head.
“Don’t cry again,” he groaned. “I can’t take it when you cry.” He placed his hands gently on both sides of her face. “Just take a big breath and try to tell me what happened.”
She looked up with puffy sad eyes. “You happened, Red; you and your family.”
He frowned. “I don’t understand.”
“Seeing you and your family together—the way you interact with each other—it made me realize how empty my life is. After seeing that, I know now. There’s no way I can live in a loveless marriage.” She squeezed her eyes shut.
Red reached out to place his hands on her shoulders. “You shouldn’t have to. Nobody should have to live like that.”
“I know,” she said miserably.
“With a man who refuses to be faithful to yo
u.”
“I know.”
“No one should ask that of you, not even your parents. Hell, especially not your parents.”
“I know that.” Her voice broke with another sob.
“Then why are you crying?”
She hugged her waist as she turned toward the fireplace. “Because I just now realized that in my thirty-six years, I’ve never had one single person in my life, other than my little brother and our nanny, who’s ever truly loved me. Not my parents, not my grandmother, and not the man I just wasted five years of my life with.” She turned back to face Red. “That’s pretty damned sad, don’t you think?”
Red grabbed a tissue to gently pat the tears from her cheeks, sorely tempted to tell her there was someone right here who loved her. “Please don’t cry anymore.”
“Even after I told my mother what Tanner had done, she still wants me to marry him. It’s all about money—she doesn’t care about me. She never has.” Her tortured groan revealed frustration laced with pain.
Red spent the next half hour listening as she spoke about the years she and Drake spent in that loveless house—watching their parents grow colder to each other and their children. He shook his head in amazement as she told him the circumstances of her and Drake’s college educations. She told him everything she could about her life in that cold, forbidding place she’d never considered a home. She ended by telling him the last thing her mother had said to her.
“I know it’s just a ploy to try to make me feel guilty, but it’s having the opposite effect. I almost wish I never had to see her again, and that’s what’s so sad, Red. Other than Drake, she and my father are the only family I have.”
Red watched as a tear trailed down her face to fall from her chin. He didn’t know how he’d managed to remain silent through it all, but he had. He longed to pull her into his arms and tell her how much he loved her—that he wanted nothing more than for her to be a part of his family. But this wasn’t the time. She’d made a choice, a choice to cut someone out of her life—someone who’d been a part of it for five years. She would probably need time to grieve. Maybe need the time to restructure—to rearrange her life around the loss.
Besides, according to Tiffany, there was one person in her family who gave a damn about her. “Maybe it’s time to call your brother.”
“I tried calling him after mother hung up on me, but he wasn’t home.” She wiped her nose and sniffed softly.
“Did you leave a message?”
She shook her head. “I couldn’t.”
“I want you to call him again, and if he’s not home, leave him a message. Make sure he knows it’s urgent you speak to him.”
Tiffany nodded, making a quick search of her purse before she realized she didn’t have her phone.
Red handed her his cordless landline. “Here, use this.” He went into the kitchen, leaving her alone to make the call.
Tiffany took a deep breath and called Drake’s number. His voicemail picked up and her brother’s baritone, familiar and soothing, asked her to leave a message. “Hey, little brother, I just broke off my engagement and had it out with mother on the phone. I really need to talk to you, Drake. I’m spending the night at a friend’s house, and I’d appreciate it if you’d give me a call at this number. Love you,” she finished quietly, before ending the call. She stood alone in the living room and wiped the tears from her eyes.
Red approached her and took the phone. “Why don’t you go rinse your face in cold water; it’ll make you feel better.”
“I believe I will,” she said, nodding. “Where’s my bag?”
He picked it up and held it out to her.
“I feel bad for imposing on you like this, Red. I could have stayed at the condo. For that matter, I could have gone back to my own house.”
He shook his head. “You didn’t need to be behind the wheel in that shape, and you sure as hell didn’t need to be alone. This house is big enough for the two of us, believe me. Come here, I’ll show you your room for the night.” He walked her down the hall and opened the guest room door for her.
“This is very nice,” she said, admiring the room.
“You have your own private bath through that door.”
“Thanks again for all of this, Red.”
“Anytime.” The silence between them was suddenly broken by the sound of Tiffany’s stomach growling in hunger. He grinned at her. “I’m guessing you didn’t have a chance to eat.”
“No. Remind me to take that personal pizza out of the microwave tomorrow,” she said, sheepishly.
“Can I heat up a plate of leftovers for you?”
“That would be great. This is really nice of you, Red.”
“That’s what friends are for.” He left the room, closing the door behind him.
Tiffany stepped into the bathroom to admire the huge whirlpool tub, walk in shower with multiple showerheads, and the deep granite sink. She cringed at her reflection—splashed ice cold water from the faucet over her red puffy face. While patting her face dry, she ran the fingers of one hand through her straightened, blonde locks, all the while staring at the stranger in the mirror. No more. She was done changing herself for Tanner or anyone else.
He flipped his toothpick from one side of his mouth to the other and punched Red’s number into a cheap ass disposable phone. He couldn’t wait to see the self-righteous bastard’s head on a platter. Too bad the time wasn’t right to let McAllister know exactly what he had planned for him. He smiled evilly, stewing, as he waited for Red to answer. He’d planted the seed of unrest in Red McAllister’s safe, secure world on Thanksgiving Day. Now, it was time to reinforce that feeling of unease. Keep the bastard looking over his shoulder, and wondering.
Red placed some leftovers in the oven to reheat for Tiffany, and reached for his ringing cell phone. He didn’t recognize the number. It couldn’t be Tiffany’s brother. He only had the landline number. “Hello.”
“McAllister.”
Red’s brow furrowed at the same deep, gravelly growl he’d first heard on Thanksgiving Day, again muffled, as though the caller were trying to disguise it.
“Who the hell is this?” An immediate sense of unease flooded through his system.
“All in good time. You have it all, don’t you?”
Red straightened to his full height. “Whatever I have, I’ve busted my ass to get, and I’ve come by it honestly.”
“The holier than thou attitude is still intact. We’ll see how long that lasts when you’re rotting in prison.”
“Prison? For what? What the hell do you want?”
No answer.
He checked the screen. Just like that, the call ended.
He placed the phone on the counter, more than a little curious. He checked on Tiffany’s food reheating in the Viking oven, and his landline rang, showing a number with a Texas area code. Tiffany’s brother, no doubt. Regardless, he answered somewhat cautiously.
“Excuse me,” drawled a deep voice with an east Texas accent. “I received a call from this number earlier. Is there a Tiffany LeBlanc there?”
“She’s here, but let me see if she’s available.” Red carried the phone down the hall and knocked on the guest room door. When he didn’t get an answer, he put the phone to his ear and addressed the caller. “She’s not available right now. Is this her brother?”
“Yes, I’m Drake LeBlanc. Who am I speaking to?”
“Scott McAllister, I’m a friend of hers.”
“So what exactly is going on over there? Is Tiffany all right?”
Red took his time walking back into the kitchen. “She’s better now, but when I called her apartment earlier, she was crying so hard she couldn’t speak, so I picked her up and brought her to my place. I didn’t think she needed to be alone tonight.”
“Where’s Golden Boy?”
“Who?”
“Tanner Collins, her ex,” Drake growled, revealing his clear disdain for the man.
“Off with another woman, I
imagine. He was supposed to be at his parents, and he wasn’t.”
“So, she finally gave him the old heave ho? It’s about damn time,” Drake drawled. “I don’t know if you know him or not, but he’s not exactly husband material.”
Red paced a slow path in front of his fireplace, the same spot he’d occupied while comforting Tiffany a short while ago. “I’ve known him for twenty years and he may be someone’s husband material, but he’s definitely not for Doc.” The following prolonged phone silence told him Drake LeBlanc was analyzing every word he heard. He got the feeling that Tiff’s brother was sharp at judging people—the practicing attorney in him, no doubt.
“And where exactly do you fit in, Mr. McAllister?”
“I’m just a friend of hers.”
“But you’d like to be more.”
The man was blunt, to the point. He couldn’t help but be impressed with Drake’s astute grasp of the situation. “Yes I would.”
“Maybe you’re a little in love with her already?”
It wouldn’t do to hedge with this guy. “Yes I am, actually.”
“What does my sister think about that?”
“She doesn’t know yet.”
“You plan on telling her tonight?”
“No, she’s not ready. She said she needs to be alone for a while and it would probably do her some good.”
“Do you happen to know if she kept her rent house?”
“She did. I’m going to help her move her things back tomorrow.”
“Good girl, she took my advice.”
“Excellent advice from someone who knows Tanner.”
“Never bet against a stacked deck. Okay, McAllister, I know Tanner spends his days in surgery and his nights sleeping around on my sister. What do you do for a living?”
“I own a club in Lafayette, and will be opening up a second one in Lake Coburn next month.”
“What’s the name of the club?”
“Red’s—that’s what my friends call me.”
“I’ve heard of it, believe it or not. It’s nice, I hear.”
“I wouldn’t run one that wasn’t.”
“I have friends and business associates over there who’ve been several times. So, when I ask them about Scott “Red” McAllister—and you can be sure I will—am I going to hear anything that will make me urge my sister to slap a restraining order against you?”