“I built us a treehouse. I mean, the field is great, but when it rains, I want to lay you down on something dry. I mean, what kind of a douchebag would make out with you on the cold, wet ground? Come on up and check it out.”
Holding out my hand, Hennie takes it and makes her way up the ladder.
“Tate! I can’t believe you did all this.”
“Do you like it?”
“Where did you find this?”
“I saw an ad in a store window. Someone was moving and had to leave the futon behind. It was a pain to get it in here. Nolan bitched the whole time,” I laugh. It’s a nervous laugh.
She looks around at the futon, the rug, and the camping lanterns I scattered around the treehouse.”
“Come here,” she motions to me.
I swallow hard. Hennie is so fucking gorgeous.
“Thank you for doing this. You always take good care of me,” she whispers as she stands on her tiptoes to kiss me.
“I’ll always take care of you, Hennie. You’ll always be first when it comes to me.”
“Tate?” Nolan yells.
Shit. “Sorry, lost in thought, I guess.”
“I gotta run out to the site. Jimmy says the glass contractor wants approval for the windows. Give her some time, Tate. I have a feeling everything will work out.”
Shutting the door after Nolan leaves gives me the privacy I need to get my head in the game for this new project. I’ll worry about the lonely hours I’ll have at home later. Right now, I need to focus on getting this project up to speed.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Hennie
I haven’t been back three whole days from New York, and I already miss Tate. It’s so crazy how much I want him still. My mind has been on him every minute of the day, replaying all the things he said. When he said he still loved me, well, it got to me. It didn’t take long for Tate Palmer to break down my walls.
The only positive thing being back is that Steffy and Mandy are safe, and I think I’m wearing her down to come and live with me.
Grabbing a cup of coffee, I head a block over to where my office is. Something has me looking over my shoulder the entire way. I feel as if I’m being watched. Don’t get me wrong, I wouldn’t put it past Tate to come to California, and maybe secretly I wish he would, but this is different. It’s not a good feeling.
Picking up my pace, I make it into the building without incident. Going by the lobby desk, Patrick, the security guard, calls my name.
“Good morning, Patrick.”
“Hennie, this envelope was left for you before I came on my shift.”
I thank Patrick and head up to my office to check in with Catherine. I’m not really looking forward to the twenty million questions I’m going to get about what happened between me and Tate. She knows I’ll be honest with her, but rehashing it only makes me sad. I miss him so much.
“Hey, Hen. Welcome back,” Jackson says as I make my way through the frosted glass doors.
“Hi, Jackson. Is Catherine around?”
“Yeah, she’s on the phone with Ashton. I’m heading out to meet one of my new guys. See you around.”
The guilt of working on Tate’s campaign has weighed heavily on my mind. I need to come clean with Catherine. If she doesn’t want me working on the Jensen campaign, I’ll understand. I won’t like it, but I’ll understand.
With a quick wave, I head into my office. Throwing the envelope on my desk, I hang up my pink pantsuit jacket behind my door. While finishing my coffee, I go through my emails. Is it bad that I’m disappointed there’s nothing from Tate? He told me he’d give me space to get things in order here, but he could’ve reached out to me. Gah, it doesn’t make sense how I want it both ways.
There’s a knock at my door. Catherine pops her head in. “Hey, Hennie. Is this a good time?”
“Of course, come on in.”
My stomach plummets when she does. I know Catherine is pleased with my work, and we’ve become friends outside the office, but my behavior in New York wasn’t professional.
“I haven’t been honest with you about my relationship with Tate Palmer.”
Catherine blows out a breath, but it’s not one of anger. I feel as if it’s more of an ‘I totally understand.’
“So, you knew Tate before you came to California? Taylor told me.”
I fidget with my hands just like I always do when I feel embarrassed. “Yeah, he was my high school sweetheart. Things didn’t end well, and I had my heart broken. That’s how I ended up at USC. I never expected to see him again.”
“So, he ambushed you. I’m sorry about that, Hennie. That’s my fault, too, for never mentioning his name. I dealt mostly with his assistant.”
“Please don’t blame yourself. Tate Palmer is the only one who should’ve told me it was him. But I’m not going to lie about how shocked I was to see him. And now with me working on his campaign, I just want to make sure you’re okay with that.”
“Have I ever told you what transpired between me and Jackson? Do you know how I got here?”
Oh boy, this sounds interesting. “No, you haven’t, and you don’t have to if you don’t want to.”
“Actually, I think it may help. I see some similarities in what’s going on.”
Over the next thirty minutes, Catherine tells me about how she fell in love with Jackson when he was her client. But he was harboring a secret— he’d been married before but never told Catherine. When it came out, she was devastated at the lie. Around the same time, she was offered a promotion here in California, which she took. Jackson didn’t want her to go but wanted what was best for her. Damn, he sounds like Tate.
“Wow. I never would’ve guessed you went through all that. How did you get over the lie? I mean, what Tate did was ten years ago. I thought I got over the cheating, but then I just found out he never actually did cheat. He lied, so I’d come to California.”
Catherine blows out a breath.
“I obviously won’t tell you what to do when it comes to your love life, but I do want to give you a piece of advice Taylor once gave me.”
“Okay.”
“People make mistakes. Mistakes don’t make people. If you still have feelings for Tate, do yourself a favor and take your time to figure things out. I can’t imagine what would’ve happened had Jackson not allowed me to follow my career. I just thank God he came after me.”
Maybe Catherine is right. Is the lie about cheating on me worse than if he had? One moment, I think I’m over the lie, and then the next, I’m just not sure yet. And is that even the question? How do I turn off the lingering feelings I have for Tate? Do I even want to? Could a long-distance romance work with Tate? Could I trust him enough to not wonder what he’s up to?
“Thanks, Catherine. I guess I have a lot to sort out in my head and heart.” I give her a small smile.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Hennie
I’m ten minutes late for my dinner date with Steffy and Mandy. For the life of me, I couldn’t find my car key, so I had to locate my spare. Finally, I pull into my gated neighborhood and head up the condo steps.
My mind drifts to Tate. I called him today but got his voicemail. Leaving him a quick hello, I admit I miss him. I asked him to call me back but I haven’t heard from him yet. I’m disappointed.
Steffy must hear my car pull into the driveway because my front door opens. My two favorite girls are waiting for me.
“Hey, ladies.”
Mandy waves her little hand at me with a big smile. She melts my heart every time I see her.
Steffy and I don’t discuss what’s going on with Darren in front of Mandy. Our dinner conversation is kept light and fun. Mandy tells me about her boyfriend, Henry. Apparently, he lives down the road from Darren. Too bad Mandy will never see Henry again.
“Mandy, why don’t you go ahead and go play in the living room while Hennie and I clean up.”
“Okay, Mama. Bye, Hennie chicken.”
Mandy thinks
I’m named after a hen. I don’t correct her because it’s so damn cute. The little girl with the big brown curls jumps down from her chair and skips over to the play area I set up in the corner of my dining room.
Steffy blows out a breath. “Darren showed up today.”
I don’t want to assume what she’s telling me, so I clarify.
“Here?”
Steffy nods. “I didn’t open the door, so he doesn’t know I’m here. But I’m afraid I won’t be able to hide for long.
My heart leaps in my chest, thinking about getting these two out of Darren’s reach. “Come to New York with me. Please stay with me, Steffy. I have an extra bedroom. It’s safe and secure in my building.”
“We can’t do that, Hennie. I won’t put you in any danger from Darren.”
“How about this? You stay here so you can get on your own two feet. I can help watch Mandy so you can work some overtime.”
I pray she says yes. I’ll stay as long as it takes to get Darren behind bars, even if it puts things on hold with Tate.
Steffy glances over at Mandy, who’s singing along with some kids' TV show.
“I love you both as if you were my family, Steffy. Do it for Mandy if you won’t do it for yourself. She needs a family right now, and I can be that for you both.”
Steffy laughs. “Wow, way to put the guilt on me, Hen.”
I smile. “Did it work?”
She bites her bottom lip. “Okay, but it’s only temporary.”
Once she puts Mandy to bed, she asks if I’ve talked to Tate. With everything going on with her and Mandy, I’m afraid I’ve waited too long to call him. There’s still no call back.
“You do know he’s giving you space and is probably going crazy that you haven’t called him yet.”
“I’m scared I won’t be able to work with him platonically. “
“Well, you know I’m the last person who should be giving you relationship advice, but if I had someone who put me first the way Tate did you, I’d try to find it in my heart to thank him at least. You said yourself you wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for him. If you ask me, that says just how much he loves you. The question is, do you still have feelings for him?”
My forehead hits the table, and she laughs. “I’ll take that as a yes. Come on, Hennie, just let him know he’s not the asshole you thought he was. I kinda feel sorry for him.”
“Ugh, am I being a jerk?”
“No, of course not. But the way I look at it is you two have let ten years go by. If there’s still something between you two, then don’t let any more time pass.”
Maybe Steffy is right.
I head into my room after Steffy and I clean up. I glance at my phone. It’s almost ten o’clock in New York, but if I don’t text him now, I’ll lose my courage. I head out onto my balcony overlooking the beach and text Tate.
Me: I’m sorry I haven’t texted since I left. I needed to get Steffy and Mandy situated.
His response isn’t immediate. I wait an hour for his response.
Tate: I hope they’re both safe. Hennie, I’m sorry I came on so strong. It was selfish of me. I just was so happy to see you.
Me: I didn’t exactly put up a fight, Tate. I won’t lie to you. Sharing your bed was more than I could’ve dreamed of, but I just need some time here to work on personal stuff. I’m going to send over a timeline of things I’m working on for Jensen.
Tate: If that’s what you think is best, then I guess I’ll have to deal with it.
I shut this conversation down, so I don’t get roped into something more.
Me: I have to go, Tate.
Tate: Trouble, wait.
Tears threaten when he uses my nickname. I don’t think I should answer him, but I can’t help it. Tate Palmer has always been like a drug to me. Ten years hasn’t done anything to change that.
Me: Yeah?
Tate: Do you still love me?
I start to respond with a yes, but he’s put me on the spot, and I’m just not ready to tell him I never stopped.
* * *
It’s been a week since Steffy and Mandy moved in. My best friend has been quiet and concerned whereas Mandy thinks living with me is the best. I have to admit, having them here has kept my mind off Tate at least personally. Professionally, we stayed in contact and it’s helped a little but I still miss him.
I’ve communicated with Tessie on making sure the interior decorator is on schedule so we can get those photos out into the public. Tate texted me three times yesterday. His messages are short but sweet, letting me know he misses me too.
Steffy makes her way down the hall to the kitchen, where I’m finishing my coffee. Even though she appears to be more rested, I know it’ll take some time before she feels completely at ease.
“Morning, Steff.”
“Morning. I can’t believe I slept this late. I only woke up because Mandy was snoring.”
For such a little girl, her daughter snores like an old man.
“I have to wake her up soon so I can take her to my aunt’s, then I’m off to work. I thought I’d pick up something for dinner tonight. How about some fajitas from Pueblos?”
One of Jackson’s guys, Wilfredo, follows Steffy to work and waits outside until she gets off. She’s not happy but goes along with it to make me happy.
“Sounds good. I’ll call you later, okay?”
Steffy nods as she heads back to her room with her coffee and some orange juice for Mandy.
I head out to my dedicated parking spot while juggling my travel mug, laptop bag, and files. I’m concentrating so hard on not dropping anything, I don’t notice the two men pointing a gun at me until I hear one of them speak.
“Get the fuck in the car, bitch.”
Chapter Thirty-Four
Tate
I’m on my way to California because I just can’t stay away from her. Hennie will probably be pissed, but I can’t go on without seeing her.
The flight seemed to take forever. Thankfully, a car is waiting for me at the airport as I make my way to CJJ’s office. I’ve rehearsed what I was going to say to her a million times between New York and California. But now that I’m about to walk through the doors where Hennie works, I’m fucking nervous as hell.
The minute I enter Hennie’s office, I know something isn’t right. There are several people with worried looks on their faces milling about in the reception area.
A young woman looks as if she’s been crying. She’s holding a young girl in her arms, her hand rubbing the girl’s back.
“Sir, can I help you?”
I notice a young gentleman as he strides toward me, a look of concern evident on his face.
All eyes are on me as I look around. “I’m Tate Palmer. I’m looking for Ms. Marsh.”
“Mr. Palmer?” This comes from a woman I recognize from CJJ’s website. She’s Catherine, Hennie’s boss.
“Yes, that’s right. And you’re Catherine.” I extend my hand.
After a quick handshake, she suggests we go to her office. I’m not feeling good about whatever is going on. She invites the gentleman who acknowledged me first, and Catherine introduces us. He’s Catherine’s assistant, Tristan.
Catherine closes the door. “Please sit, Mr. Palmer.”
“Call me Tate. What’s going on? Where’s Hennie?” I lower myself to the chair opposite Catherine.
Clearing her throat, she delivers shocking news.
“We don’t know where Hennie is. She never came in for work this morning. She’s not answering her phone either. We’re all very worried about her.” Tears fill her eyes.
The words coming out of Catherine’s mouth hit me with a thunderous clap. Covering my eyes, I melt back into my seat. My heart is thumping like a freight train in my chest. It’s as if a movie plays in my mind. Could she have been in a car accident? Is she laying in a hospital right now? Did someone take her? Mentally, I know I need to stop going to the worst-case scenario if I’m going to find her, but I can’t shake the bad
feeling I have.
“I got a text from her last night, but that’s the last I heard from her. When she didn’t arrive by nine-thirty, I knew something wasn’t right. She’s usually here by eight every morning. I called my husband. He owns a security firm, so we went to check on her. She wasn’t there, but Hennie’s roommate Steffy said she left for work this morning like usual.”
“This Steffy person is the last person to see her? I want to talk with her.” Before Catherine can answer me, a man comes barreling through her door.
“A messenger just delivered this to security.”
“Tate, this is my husband, Jackson. This is Tate Palmer. He’s one of our clients from New York.”
I don’t even say hello before I’m demanding to see what’s in the envelope.
“This is your fucking fault,” he barks as he grabs my suit jacket, slamming me up against the wall.
“Jackson!” Catherine yells.
Once my shock wears off, I fight back with a right hook. Jackson’s jaw meets my fist. Catherine’s assistant tries to break us up but doesn’t get anywhere. This dude is a strong motherfucker, but when it comes to Hennie and her safety, no man can match my rage-induced strength.
“Tate!” Now Catherine tries to get in the middle as Jackson rubs his jaw, wishing me dead with his eyes.
“Honey, Tate is a personal friend of Hennie’s. He flew out from New York to see her.”
Catherine gives me a look that says, ‘I’m sorry for my husband’s attitude.’
Jackson looks at me. The suspiciousness is palpable.
Grunting every word, I bring us back to what’s important here— Hennie. “What’s in the envelope, Jackson?”
He never blinks. “A ransom note. Your last name is Palmer. Do you know a Sam Palmer?”
Trouble Page 9
