by Lauren Runow
I show her the cover. “F. Scott Fitzgerald. What did you think of it?”
She bites her lower lip as she looks back at me. “I think you have the sexiest reading voice ever.”
I grab her hand and kiss it. “Thank you. But I meant, what did you think of the book?”
She giggles. “I loved it. I didn’t know where it was going to go, but it got me thinking …”
And this is where one of the greatest conversations of my life begins. For the next few hours, Tessa and I talk. We discuss the book. We discuss infidelity. We talk about crime, expectations, and reputation. We discuss the notion of being in love with someone and watching from afar as they live a life with someone else.
I’ve been with women before, but I’ve never sat and talked with someone. Not while we hold hands and explore each other’s minds. Not while we’re cuddled on a couch in an afghan. Not while wasting an afternoon. Not like this.
When Tessa’s stomach rumbles, we order in and devour the food on the back deck. Our conversation turns to our real lives. Past stories and present.
“All Sexton boys had to learn how to dance. Austin took ballet.”
She tilts her head with squinted eyes.
I explain further, “He thought my dad would be disgusted and pull him out.”
“Did he?” she asks.
“Nope. He was so mad Austin tried to outsmart him and my mom that he went out and got him a tutu.”
“And Austin …”
“Wore a tutu to ballet class every week for a year.” I grin.
She laughs out loud as she covers her mouth full of food. “What about Tanner?”
“Jazz. That guy is a phenomenal dancer.”
When she swallows, she asks, “So, if Austin took ballet, and Tanner took Jazz, what about you?”
“Tap. Obviously,” I deadpan.
She leans over and kisses me. Believe it or not, I show her a few of my dance moves.
The sun is getting hazy in the sky when she suggests we finally get dressed. I take her for a walk along the lake. We discuss the architecture and things we love about all the houses. She likes the log-cabin homes with big windows and wraparound porches. I like the stone houses with peaked-front entryways.
We grab cinnamon rolls and coffee at a local bakery. I watch her devour hers and lick frosting off her fingers before I even take a bite. When I see her eyeing up mine, I offer it to her. She takes it, breaks it in half, and then kisses me with a mouth full of cinnamon goodness.
I finally break open that bottle of wine I brought out last night. We bring the afghan out on the deck and look at the stars while drinking our wine.
Tessa’s stories are bright and colorful. Her sense of humor is quick and witty. Her presence is addicting.
The hours have flown by, and I’m sad to see this day end. We’re not in a rush to leave, but being here, with her, makes me want to stop time for eternity.
Her eyes are really blue, but when you look at them in the moonlight, they’re strikingly violet. I’ve never seen anything like it. I’ve never met anyone like her. I am easily becoming addicted to Tessa Clarke.
“Bryce?” she asks.
“Yeah,” I sigh as I curl a strand of hair behind her ear.
Her long lashes hit her cheeks as she looks down to ask her question. “I can’t be one of many. What we have is amazing, but it can only work if you’re mine.”
I lay my knuckle under her chin and tilt her mouth up. Her eyes flutter open and look up at me as she waits for my answer.
“Baby, I’ve been yours since I watched you kick a garbage can on a roof. You howled at the moon, and I lost my heart that day. I’m yours, Tessa. And you are mine. Only difference is, I didn’t need to ask you that. I claimed you the moment I laid eyes on you. That is, if you want me.”
A slow smile builds on her face. She doesn’t answer me though. Hell, she doesn’t even kiss me. A profession like that should at least warrant a kiss.
Instead, she wiggles out of my arms. “I’ll be right back.”
She heads back inside and leaves me here with my heart on my sleeve. I’ve professed my love to women before. Once when I was fifteen and didn’t know the difference between love and lust. Again, when I was twenty and thought my college sweetheart was my forever girl. This time, I’m a wiser man.
She leaves me out here for ten minutes. I know how long it is because I’m staring at my watch as the seconds tick by. I decide that, if she doesn’t come back out in five, I’m going in to look for her.
I don’t have to.
The door to the deck opens, and inside stands Tessa in lavender lingerie so sweet and so sexy that I think I died and went to heaven.
“Does that mean I passed the test?” I ask, staring at her creamy thighs peeking out of the high slit.
She bites her lip. “Who said the exam’s over?”
I growl. A mean, lust-filled growl as I take my shirt off and chase her into the house. I don’t stop until I have my girl in the bed and in my arms.
And the nightie? It’s off in thirty seconds.
“Should we finally try to make it to dinner tonight?” I ask with her naked and lying on my chest.
The sun rose a few hours ago, but we wouldn’t know since we’ve been tangled in the sheets all morning.
“Going out to dinner is overrated. I think we’ve done our vacation right.” She giggles, her breath tickling my skin.
“Couldn’t agree more.” I kiss the top of her forehead, smiling from ear to ear.
I don’t want this to end. I don’t want to go back to work, and stress. When I’m with Tessa, I feel carefree. I keep thinking I should ask her to move in with me, but I know I have to stop myself from moving too fast. Our time together has been everything I ever wanted, but we have to see how things work when we’re back in reality.
I do know one thing’s for sure. I need to start relying on my employees more, so I can work less. It will take some getting used to, but knowing I have her is the best motivation I need.
“I could go for some coffee though. Where’s the pot? I’ll make us some.” She starts to get up from the bed, but I pull her down with a kiss.
“I don’t have anything here. I’ll run to the store. The service is awful here, so I can log in to the Wi-Fi and check my email.”
“I’ll come with you. My phone is on two bars, and I want to check in on Charlie.”
I take a quick shower and toss on a pair of shorts and a polo. My hair is still wet as I comb it back and head toward the front door. To my surprise, Tessa is already there. She’s showered as well with her hair pulled into a neat braid, and her face is makeup free.
“You’re gorgeous,” I say.
It’s the truth. For a woman who makes a living in making people glamorous with makeup, she is the most stunning when she has nothing on. This is my girl.
I kiss the freckles on her nose.
We take a drive to the coffee shop and head in. We order our coffees and grab a small table by the window. As soon as I log in to my email, my pulse begins to race.
One thousand one hundred and sixty-one emails.
Motherfucker.
My phone is blowing up with voicemail after voicemail and ninety-eight texts.
I’ve been away from the office for forty-eight hours. This is the most disconnected I’ve ever been, ever felt. It’s making me queasy, just looking at all of the unanswered correspondence.
“Are you okay?” Tessa lays her hand on my arm.
I brush her off. “Yes.” I motion toward my phone. “I just have to go through a few things from the office.”
“Okay. You do what you have to do. I’m gonna grab a paper and sit outside. You take all the time you need.”
When she rises and gently kisses me on the head, I feel like a complete dick for being brash.
“Thank you.” I kiss her hand before she walks away.
I’m the luckiest son of a bitch. I’d better not fuck it all up.
As I g
o through my emails, I’m impressed to see almost all of the issues have been handled correctly. Any fires have been put out, and the papers have all printed without concern. One of my greatest attributes is hiring the best of the best. From my editors to sales and marketing, right down to distribution, Sexton Media has a top-notch team. Even my assistant has done everything to keep me up-to-date.
While I didn’t hire Jalynn personally, I’m proud of the work she’s done. She’s also sent me her final revisions on the article Missy asked her to do. It will be printed this weekend with the digital team working on interviews and video packages about street racing. Missy might have assigned this as a way to intimidate Austin, but it has become a fantastic cross promotion for the Sexton brand. It’s enlightening, educational, and changing the landscape of San Francisco culture.
My coffee is drained before I’m through a quarter of the emails. I take the time to listen to the voicemails from my father, starting on Wednesday night.
His angry voice shouts in the message, “Bryce, this is your father. Call me back immediately. It is unacceptable for you to miss a dinner I specifically requested you to be at. You have no idea how unhappy Missy is! First, you miss dinner, and then your brother shows up with his whore of a girlfriend. Did you know your brother was fucking your assistant? That’s right. He showed up with that trailer trash, and the two of them destroyed the entire evening. They ganged up on me and Missy, and then walked out before the food was served. It was embarrassing! The things she said to me, Bryce. I should fire her on the spot. Unacceptable behavior. You’d better have a great excuse. Where the hell are you? Call me back!”
I push my fingers deep into my eyes as I rub them. Why the hell can’t Austin follow simple directions? All he had to do was go to dinner on Wednesday night. Have a drink, order a steak, and leave.
Of course, he had to go and make a fucking mockery of the event, and he brought Jalynn. I knew he was messing around with my assistant. I just hoped she had a better head on her shoulders than to get seriously involved with him. Going to a Sexton dinner is way beyond her pay grade.
I grab my phone and dial Austin’s number.
He quickly picks up. His voice is playful. “I was wondering when you were going to check up on me.”
Of course, this is all a joke to him.
My blood boils. “She said to give you space, and I did for two fucking days. As soon as I turn on my phone, it’s to find out that you can’t follow one simple direction!”
“Wait. Who is she, and what the hell are you mad about?”
“Don’t give me that shit.” My voice is curt. Rapid, angry breaths fill my lungs. “I can’t believe you brought my assistant to dinner the other night!”
“I don’t owe you any explanation for who I want to have dinner with.” He sounds so damn entitled. I don’t know why I’m surprised.
For the first time in years, I take time off, and things don’t get done the way they’re supposed to.
“You damn well know I have every right to know if you’re dating my assistant, and you can bet your ass you owe me an explanation about why you walked out on Dad and Missy before food was even served! We’re supposed to be keeping the peace, trying to keep Missy happy, not making things worse. You know she has proof you race and is trying to get you arrested.”
“Missy can kiss my ass.”
“Missy can—” I stand from the table and walk out the front door of the shop, toward the parking lot. My body doesn’t know what to do with this anger, so I keep moving. “Why are you so thickheaded?”
“I’d have to be convicted of a crime, and I’ve done nothing that would warrant anything more than a speeding ticket.”
“This is so typical, Austin,” I shout as I pace between the cars, ignoring the eyes of the other patrons walking through the lot. “Ever since we were kids, you’ve been acting like the world isn’t watching when you go off the rails. You just do what you want to do at everyone else’s expense.”
“Watch it. You’re starting to sound like Dad.”
“Maybe he and I are starting to agree on something for a change,” I say.
There’s silence on the other end. If it wasn’t for the sound of his teeth grinding, I’d think he’d hung up.
“You were supposed to be at that dinner if not to make Missy happy, then to get Dad to come to his senses. I’ve tried. I’ve been trying, and I thought maybe, for once in your fucking life, you would actually do what you were told and come through.”
“Why the hell would Dad listen to me?”
“Because you were his favorite!”
Austin’s tone changes to mock disbelief. “In what lifetime was that?”
“The one before you became an asshole teenager. He did everything with you. He’d take you to the racetrack and bring you to meet the winners. Every summer, you’d enter the soapbox derby, and he’d help you build the car. Hell, you even like the same shitty old movies he does. Dad might have been brainwashed by Missy, but there’s still the same Edward in there somewhere. I’ve been trying to get to him, but I’m out of my fucking mind with babysitting you while you’re willing to risk Mom’s memory, everything she built, on being an arrogant asshole!”
“I’m so sick of this shit. Why are you always busting my ass? I’m here, covering for you, if you’ve forgotten. Please tell me you’ll at least get your dick sucked while you’re gone. Maybe then you’ll have your brain back and truly see what’s going on around here.”
“Have you even heard a fucking thing I just said, Austin?”
“Yeah, the part where you think I don’t try every day to keep Mom’s memory alive. Maybe, if you went to visit her grave every once in a while, instead of kissing Dad’s ass, you’d remember why this company was worth fighting for.”
I throw my phone on the ground.
Running my hands on the back of my head, I pull at my hair and pace back and forth, wondering why I was such an idiot to think that I could do this. For the first time in years, I decided to step away, and what happens? My family does what they’ve always threatened to do; they fuck it all up.
20
TESSA
Charlie would love it here.
As I sit at a tiny table at the back of the coffee shop and look out at the mountains, I know my nature-loving, superhero-adventure-having son would have the time of his life in Tahoe. Maybe Bryce and I can bring him over the holiday break.
I bite my lip and shake my head, just thinking about it.
How did I, Tessa Clarke, the girl who declared years ago that she didn’t need a man, end up in love?
Wait. I’m not in love. Am I?
Just thinking it seems so surreal. If Bryce wasn’t so damn persistent, I never would have given him a second chance. Thank God he didn’t give up.
Bryce might not have said he loves me, but he said he’s mine. And I’m his. And, now, I feel like a thirteen-year-old who got her first boyfriend. I won’t lie; if I had a pen, I’d totally be doodling our names on this napkin under my cup.
There’s an older couple at a nearby table. They’re holding hands and talking softly. For the first time, I can actually picture myself with someone. Bryce will have white hair like his father, and I’ll definitely be dyeing mine until the day I hit the grave. We’ll sit on our Adirondack chairs and talk about the kids and the grandchildren, maybe play pinochle or Rummikub. Actually, we’ll probably be on our iPads or whatever fancier device is out in the future.
Speaking of devices, I take my phone out of my purse and call Eleanor Mason. Bryce said to give them the day to bond without my hovering, and I did so. But, now, it’s time for this mama bear to hear from her baby cub because I’m starting to go through withdrawals.
The phone rings a few times before Eleanor picks up. We exchange our pleasantries as she gives me a rundown of all the things Charlie has been up to. He ate pancakes for breakfast. Rob spent a fortune on new toys for him. He tired them out at the park, fell, and cut his knee, but it’s just a
scrape. He brushed and flossed his teeth last night.
Oh, and then she utters these words, “Now, try not to be upset at this next thing.”
I take a deep breath and brace myself.
“Ashton called, and the two of them had an amazing conversation,” she says like it’s no big deal.
My mouth is open, but there’s no air going in or out. “They what?”
“He happened to call while we were settling in at the hotel last night, and Charlie asked if he could talk to his father. Naturally, I put him on the phone.” I can just picture her playing with the pearls around her neck as she speaks.
I lay my hand on my forehead as I try to figure out what on earth this woman does not understand when I say I don’t want Charlie talking to his father.
“Put Charlie on the phone.”
“Tessa, I know you’re not pleased, but it was so beautiful to see Charlie when he spoke to his father.”
“His sperm donor.”
“That’s crude.”
“Naturally,” I spit back her word. “I want Charlie home now.”
“You can’t do that! You said we could have him until Sunday,” she cries.
I take an exasperated breath. “Eleanor, I don’t want to fight with you. Really. You are a lovely woman with good intentions, I’m sure. But you’ve proven time and time again that you are not responsible with Charlie’s feelings.”
“Tessa, please!”
“Put Charlie on the phone. Now,” I bite.
There’s a shuffling accompanied by Eleanor’s whimpers. I don’t want to be the villain in this situation, but she makes me one every single time. If it were up to her, she’d fly Charlie to the other side of the world and have him sing “Kumbaya My Lord” with his father.
Charlie gets on the call before I have a chance to imagine any other ridiculous scenarios. “Mommy, guess what. Grandma and Grandpa bought a special ticket, so we had a guy taking us behind the scenes and showing us how everything was built, and you’re never going to believe what I got to do!”
“What?” I ask, trying to pull from his excitement and hide my own frustrations.
