“Did you tell her?” she asked, her voice barely more than a whisper.
“Of course I didn’t tell her,” I scoffed. “I made up a lie, told her I’d been the one to almost fall, and so I didn’t climb anymore.”
“She believed you?”
I swept a hand down the back of my head, rubbing the tight muscles in my neck. “It seemed to pacify her. For now.” I laughed bitterly. “But lying to her didn’t feel good, Diane. Not good at all.”
“God, Devon, I’m so sorry. I didn’t think…” A pause. “You like her, don’t you? I mean, really like her.” When I said nothing, Diane continued. “Devon, you need to tell her the truth. If she thinks anything of you at all, then she’ll understand. It wasn’t your fault.”
“Yes, it was,” I insisted. “It was my responsibility to ensure Charlotte’s safety, and I failed.”
Diane’s tired sigh echoed down the phone line, tightening my throat. My mistake that day had affected my entire family in so many awful ways, adding yet more guilt to an already overflowing cup.
“You did everything you could, Devon.”
No, I didn’t. I should have checked, rechecked, and checked again.
Climbed down to see for myself.
Never taken her up the damn rock face in the first place.
“Tell her, please. It’s time, Devon. Tell Reilley about Charlotte.”
“No,” I replied doggedly.
“Argh. Like most men, you are a bloody-minded fool, brother. Mark my words, secrets have a habit of worming their way free. Better to take control and be honest with her than have her find out some other way.”
Not happening.
Time to end this. “Tell Mum and Dad I’ll call soon, and give the kids a kiss from me.” I hung up, before she could rail on me some more.
“Who’s that?”
I spun around, my face flooding with color. Please don’t let her have overheard. “Diane.”
She broke into a smile. “Wow, you actually listened to me and called her.”
I virtually sagged with relief. She must have only heard the very end of the call. “Don’t worry, I won’t make a habit of it.”
Her lips twitched. “Wouldn’t expect anything different.” She moved in for a cuddle, her hair still damp from the bath. “Give me fifteen minutes, and then we can go to dinner.”
I arched an eyebrow. “Fifteen?”
She grinned. “Okay, you got me. Forty-five.”
I watched as she turned away. She theatrically dropped the towel and coyly glanced over her shoulder.
“Better make that an hour,” I said, sweeping her into my arms, her peals of laughter chasing away the awful guilt.
For now.
Reilley
I strolled inside my air-conditioned office building with a spring in my step. Two reasons: one, it was great to be back in Chicago, sleeping in my own bed after spending most of the summer traveling around Europe with Devon and the Nash Racing team, and two, Devon was arriving in less than forty-eight hours to spend the next few days with me after traveling back to Australia to see his family. Every August, Formula One took a three-week break, and I couldn’t keep the grin off my face that Devon had chosen to spend some of his valuable free time with me.
I mean, that said a lot, right?
Oh, there was a third reason. Tucked away in my bag was a printed copy of a very rough first draft of my biography on Devon, The Piranha Club. I loved that Devon had given me the title, and bearing in mind the things I’d witnessed over the last six months working on the inside, it was an accurate description. Formula One masqueraded itself as a sport, but that was a front for the public. In reality, it was like any other large organization: cutthroat.
I’d sent an electronic copy to Simon yesterday afternoon, months ahead of my original deadline, and we were meeting this morning to talk through it. I liked to make notes on the actual copy, hence my aching shoulder from carrying around five hundred and fifty pages of bound manuscript. I’d half expected Simon to ping me several times last night with comments, but he’d been eerily silent. I hoped that was a good sign, and he’d been so engrossed in the story I’d crafted, that he hadn’t wanted to put it down and send a text.
I rode the elevator up to the seventeenth floor, where our offices were located, and flashed my security badge at the smoked-glass door. Pushing it open, I beamed at everyone, stopping to share a word or two with a few of our copy editors and proofreaders. My role required me to be on the road so much that it wasn’t often I managed to speak to the staff behind the scenes who turned my ramblings into a book worthy of publication.
I rapped once on Simon’s door and waited. When his barked “Come in” reached me through the thick wood, I pressed down on the handle and walked inside.
“Morning,” I said brightly.
He pointed to the chair opposite his desk without looking up from his computer, a deep frown scoring his forehead. I sat, put my bag on the floor, removed the manuscript, and rested it on my knee, waiting.
“Tell me something, Riles. Why are people such fuckers?”
I laughed. “That’s a very broad statement, Simon. Not everyone is a fucker. Some are, granted, but not all.”
He glanced up then, peering at me over his half-moon glasses. “Urgh. I hate it when you stroll in here all reasonable and happy.”
I laughed again. “What’s the matter?”
“Some dick wants to sue us for defamation, except we have him on record sharing the very details he’s now claiming are false.”
I shook my head. “Fucker.”
My throwaway comment brought a glimmer of a smile to Simon’s lips. He slammed the lid closed on his laptop and leaned back, resting both hands in his lap.
“So this book of yours.”
“Ours,” I corrected.
“It’s yours until it’s ready for publication. Then it’s mine.”
I raised my eyes to the ceiling. “Whatever. Are you going to keep me in suspense for much longer? I’m dying over here.”
He tapped two fingers against his lips, his eyes narrowed. I held my breath.
“When this hits the shelves, Reilley Bennett, we’re going to make a fortune.”
Breath shot from my lungs so fast, a few papers close to me rustled and shifted. “You liked it?”
He shifted forward and leaned his forearms on the desk. His eyes locked on mine. “No. I fucking loved it.”
My shoulders sagged in relief. “Oh, thank God.”
“Seriously, girl. Even though I’d seen parts, reading the whole thing from start to finish absorbed me so much, I didn’t even eat dinner last night.” He pointed to his face. “And these bags under my eyes? All your fault, because I read through the night.”
My hands came to my face, covering my nose and mouth, muffling my words. “I’m so happy.”
“Don’t go getting all cocky just yet. There’s a ton of work to do to polish and refine, and there are one or two chapters I want to discuss in detail, placement more than any major changes to content. But for a first draft, girl, you got me. I have no idea how you got it done so fast.”
I smiled. “Honestly, Simon, it wrote itself. Some days, I’d crank out ten thousand words. It just flowed.”
He stroked his chin. “I need to take a look at the schedule. I might want to bring the publication date forward.”
“Really? To when?”
“Not sure yet. Maybe spring.”
Three months earlier than planned.
“Well, if you’re serious about that, I need to get Devon to read it.”
He shrugged. “Fine with me. Tell him although he may have editing rights, if he wants to change the thrust of the story, he’s going to need to do a hell of a job to convince me.”
“I will.”
Simon jutted his chin at the manuscript deposited on my thighs, then opened his laptop. “Ready?”
I sat up straight, pen poised. “As I’ll ever be.”
A buzzing o
n my wrist woke me. I squinted at my watch, managed to peek through bleary eyes to turn off the alarm, and rolled over, groaning.
Thud.
I peered over the side of the bed at the manuscript, covered in red ink from where I’d stayed up half the night making the corrections. I wanted to get this over to Babs, my PA, this morning, so she could make the changes to the electronic copy, then send over to Simon, and get another copy back to me that I could share with Devon when he arrived tomorrow. From two o’clock tomorrow afternoon I was officially on vacation for the following five days, and I didn’t want my mini-break to derail moving my book along the production line.
Leaning down, I retrieved it, plumped my pillows, and thumbed to the point where I’d fallen asleep last night. With thirty pages still to go, I wouldn’t allow myself the luxury of coffee and food until I’d earned them. I needed to finish this initial edit, have Babs come over and collect the manuscript, and then I could stuff my face and caffeinate myself to my heart’s content.
Two hours later, I snapped the pages closed and expelled a satisfied sigh. Tossing the covers to one side, I stuck the manuscript under my arm and padded across my bedroom. I’d left my cell phone charging on my dresser overnight and, picking it up, I texted Babs informing her the MS was ready. She replied immediately, confirming she’d be with me in fifteen minutes.
Yawning, I flicked on the coffee pot, and, moments later, the rich aroma of Colombia’s finest reached me. Without waiting for the coffee to finish brewing, I poured a cup, added cream, and took a sip. Oh yeah. Needed that.
I finished the first cup, poured a second, and was halfway through when the expected knock came at my door. I quickly checked through the peephole—a girl couldn’t be too careful these days—and let Babs in.
“Coffee?” I asked her, gesturing with my half-full cup.
“Definitely,” she said.
“Manuscript is there.” I pointed my chin at the kitchen table.
Babs wandered over, flicked through a few of the pages, then slotted it into her bag. “I’ll have this done today and send a copy to both you and Simon.”
“Can you get a printed copy to me in the morning with the corrections all worked through?”
“Consider it done.”
“What would I do without you?” I asked with a smile, even as a bite of tension clawed at my gut. Ever since I’d agreed with Simon that Devon could look at the draft manuscript, questions had raged through my mind. What if he hated it? What if he didn’t? Where did it leave our relationship? Did we even have a relationship now that the very reason for us to be together didn’t exist any longer?
“What time is Devon arriving tomorrow?”
Babs’ query jerked me back to the present, a soft smile touching my lips. “His plane lands at two-fifteen.”
A broad grin inched across Babs’ face. “Jeez, girlfriend. I knew you were smitten, but you should have seen your face just then when I mentioned His Australian Hotness. Sheesh. You’re positively glowing.” She fanned herself. “Is it warm in here?”
I picked up a stray paperclip and threw it at her. She easily dodged it.
“Stop teasing me,” I groused.
“Where’s the fun in that? You’re so fucked, Riles. Like you’re into this guy way more than you’re willing to admit.”
“I could fire you, you know.” I never would, of course. Babs wasn’t just my PA. She was one of my closest friends.
She cricked her neck. “Talk about whiplash. Five seconds ago you couldn’t function without me.”
I arched an eyebrow. “I could learn to live with it.”
She dismissively sliced her hand through the air. “Not a chance. Anyway, enough talking about things that are never going to happen. What have you got planned for your time off? Apart from spending it in bed with the delectable Mr. Gray, that is.”
“Get your mind out of the gutter,” I said, laughing.
“Honey, it’s happy there. Why upset it?”
I laughed harder. “I’ve missed you.”
“Aw, girl, I’m always here. Of course, now you’ve got a cock to play with, I understand I’ll be relegated into second place.”
“Never. Sisters before misters, and you know it. In fact…” I tapped on my phone and opened the calendar. “Let’s arrange a night out. How about next Friday? I’ll get us VIP tickets to Antonio’s.”
Antonio’s was an exclusive nightclub that I knew Babs adored, not least because of the fact the servers were all male, and all shirtless. Well, apart from a bow tie around their necks, but that didn’t count.
She held out her fist for me to bump. “Deal.”
Devon
My flight landed an hour late due to air traffic control issues over France. I’d flown into Heathrow on the first flight available from Geneva airport to pick up my connection to O’Hare in Chicago. Reilley thought I’d flown in from Melbourne via London after I’d told her I was visiting family. In reality, I’d spent the last week with Charlotte, three days of which Caroline had chewed my ear off demanding more and more, even though I had little left to give, either financially or emotionally.
During the entire trip, contrition had warred with resentment. The pull of Reilley, of my desire to be with her instead of spending part of my rare time off sitting beside a hospital bed caused a great big hole to bore deep within my stomach.
I had to find a way to square the circle. To keep my commitment to Charlotte while allowing my blossoming relationship with Reilley to prosper.
For the life of me, I couldn’t see how.
But now wasn’t the time for recriminations and self-flagellation. For the next five days, I was going to push my troubles aside and simply enjoy being me, being with Reilley, and forgetting the heavy weight of my responsibilities. Not for me, but for her. If I was here, then I owed it to Reilley to be fully present, not for half my attention to be thousands of miles away.
I slung my backpack over my shoulder and walked down the gangway, my legs and back stiff after a nine-hour flight. The line for immigration snaked for hundreds of yards. Sighing, I joined the back of the line, shuffling forward every few feet. After estimating I’d be here for at least ninety minutes, I texted Reilley to let her know. She replied with a rolling eyes emoji and a ‘Welcome to the USA’ GIF.
By the time I picked up my luggage from the carousel and made it through customs, two hours had elapsed between the plane arriving at its gate and getting landside. But the woozy head and aching limbs disappeared the second my gaze fell on Reilley, waving her arms about as she spotted me, a broad smile lighting up her beautiful face.
I was falling, hard, unable to stop the train careering toward me, headlamps blinding, and smashing through the carefully constructed walls I’d spent almost five years building.
“Finally,” she yelled, throwing herself into my arms. “God, immigration in this country is a joke.”
I captured her face and kissed her. “It doesn’t matter. I’m here now.”
“Car’s in the lot across the street.” She slipped her hand in mine. “You must be exhausted.”
“I’m used to jet lag,” I said. “Besides, I slept on the plane.”
She peeked up at me, tonguing her teeth. “It’s good you’re rested because I have plans. Naughty plans.”
I chuckled as we poured out of the terminal building into the blinding sunshine. The intense heat instantly broke me out in a sweat as my body adjusted to the change in temperature. I dropped my sunglasses into place and followed Reilley into the parking lot. I lifted my suitcase into the trunk, then slid into the passenger seat of her car, grateful when she started the engine and the air-conditioner blasted cold air at my face.
“The heat has been ridiculous. Normally we start to see a slight cooling off this time of year, but the temperatures just keep on rising.”
“Melbourne’s the same. Summer reaches well over a hundred degrees most days.”
She gave me a sly glance from the corner of her
eye. “Yeah, I certainly found it hot this year.”
I threw back my head and laughed. “Can you turn anything into an innuendo?”
She grinned and winked. “Pretty much.” Shifting the stick into reverse, she glanced over her shoulder, checked behind her, then backed out of the space. “I have a little surprise for you at my apartment.”
“What is it?” I asked, studying her face for clues.
“Are we there yet?” she asked sarcastically. “Did we beam straight to my place?”
I rolled my eyes. “Drive, woman.”
We left the busy airport behind and filtered onto the equally busy freeway, heading south.
“How’s your family? I bet they loved seeing you. You must miss them terribly.”
I avoided answering directly because I’d only spoken to them on the phone, so I went with, “Everyone’s good, thanks,” which wasn’t a lie, although Mum didn’t hide her disappointment that, for the first time ever, I hadn’t spent my summer break with them. I felt split in two, no, make that three, ways: Charlotte, my family, and Reilley. The numbers just didn’t add up to visit all three, so I’d picked two.
I hated having to choose.
I hated having to lie.
I hated my life some days.
But as I glanced sideways at Reilley, my black mood lifted. Nothing would spoil these few precious days with her. I wouldn’t allow it.
An hour after leaving the airport, she turned right into an underground garage. “Home sweet home,” she said, driving forward into a space with a chrome plaque that read Penthouse.
I twisted my head and looked at her. “You live in the penthouse?”
She shrugged. “I’ve done all right for myself over the years, and this building has a nice view of the city. It’s on the top floor. That’s why it’s called the penthouse. It’s not enormous or anything.”
She ducked her head as though her wealth embarrassed her and pressed down on the door latch. She climbed out of the car, the trunk already open.
I scooched out after her. Shrugging into my backpack, I lifted my suitcase out and set it on the floor, extending the handle. With my free hand, I reached for hers.
The Full Velocity Series Box Set Page 50
