****
Logan couldn’t remember a time he’d been so tired. Victoria had dropped out of sight, her family insisting she wasn’t around. They treated him with icy disdain, tinted with curiosity, and he was glad he wasn’t face-to-face with her brothers-in-law. Although her sisters would probably do more damage when he thought about it.
It had been a calculated risk to call the people he had in an attempt to reach her, but none of them would give his father the time of day. Hell, they hadn’t given him any.
It occurred that he might consult with Robert Vermette. A lawyer distant from the company would be an excellent choice, especially one with the skills to represent him as fiercely as would be required. And the man wouldn’t breach confidentiality so his father would never know. He wasn’t above building a bridge to Victoria’s family for later, either.
He’d waited for her in her little house late into the night, falling asleep on the couch and waking with a crick in his neck. Where had she stayed? Maybe she’d left town. Part of him was relieved not to face her, because he couldn’t yet tell her why he’d done what he had. But he had to see her, needed to assure himself she was all right. Beg her to give him some time. His mother assured him Victoria’s mom would let her know if things were dire, but he had to see for himself.
He’d made good initial progress in unraveling the web his father had spun, but it was tedious, and he had a long way to go. He supposed taking it apart was easier than putting it together, but the old man had months to scheme and get things in place. And Logan had been too distracted by his lovely fiancée to notice. His body hardened, merely thinking about her. They hadn’t spent this much time apart in months, and he was starving for her. His bright, beautiful Victoria, so fragile at times behind her confident persona.
His chest squeezed, knowing how badly he’d hurt her. Without asking, he knew he’d confirmed that deep-seated fear that she held—that she wasn’t enough for him. Because of what her father had imprinted in her. In truth, he wasn’t good enough for her and had been terrified she’d figure it out before he tied her to him with a wedding ring and hopefully a child or several. The old man had landed a terrible strike, and it remained to be seen if it was the deathblow. Logan didn’t think he could go on if that was the case.
Knowing he had to slip away, he’d penned a brief note, the contents reflecting each and every text and voice mail he’d left her. Give me some time. Then I can explain. I love you. L
Folding it, he scribbled her name on the front in huge letters and stuck it to the fridge with a magnet. He’d never given up on anything worthwhile in his life, and wasn’t going to start with the woman of his dreams.
Chapter Three
“What did you do?” Jon’s handsome face wore a look of horror.
“What? You don’t like it?” Victoria lifted a hand to her head and tentatively brushed it over the short strands there. “I thought I looked classy.”
His features smoothing out, her boss said, “You do. You’re classically beautiful and you’d look wonderful bald, wearing burlap. But your lovely hair…”
“Braided it, hacked it off and donated it to a salon that makes wigs for people undergoing chemo. I can always grow it back.”
“True. I guess it’s just because I envied you that mane of yours.”
“You’re such a girl, sometimes.”
“True.” He narrowed his eyes. “Are you putting anything in that body of yours other than coffee?”
Saluting him with her cup, she brushed past into the office. Nothing else appealed, and actually, the thought of food made her feel ill. “I switched to half-caf.”
“Not what I asked.”
“Quit fretting, Jon. I’m good.”
“Where are you staying?”
“At Juliana’s, just for a couple of nights. Why?”
He sighed. “The one I shall not name has called several times. Apparently, you haven’t been home.”
Her gut clenched. She’d been in and out to change out her clothes and pick up a few things. Logan had been in her house. His familiar scent was too recent to miss, which was why she wasn’t sleeping there. “I don’t much feel like staying at home,” she admitted.
“Well, you aren’t going to live here. And don’t tell me you haven’t thought about it.”
“I have. But I won’t if you say so.”
Jon shoved the door closed, knowing as well as she did that their secretary could spread gossip faster than butter on hot toast. “Tori, you’ve been working harder than me. Well, longer hours. That’s scary. I’m worried about you.”
“What for? I’m fine.”
“It’s like the … wedding fiasco never happened. Because you’re sublimating it with work.”
“Fancy word,” she teased. “And if I am? What else would you have me do? Mope? Eat gallons of ice cream? Drink? Work is my drug of choice.”
“I guess I can’t argue with that.”
“But?”
“It’s not the best choice. Maybe you could talk to someone, like a professional.”
She sighed. “Jon, let it go. Please.”
“I’ll try. But Tori, Logan would really like to talk with you.”
Her hand tightened around her latte. “So my mother says, and Robert, too, for some unknown reason—or at least one he can’t disclose. And now you. I was hoping for a little loyalty, Jon.”
“You have mine, sweetie. Know that. But I want what’s best for you.”
“And you think the man who jilted me right at the freaking altar is best for me?”
“There might be a good explanation.”
Her boss, her good friend couldn’t see what was right in front of his face, but then theirs was a different relationship. She’d work herself to the bone for him and never let him down. That’s what he expected and what she was capable of giving. A friendship was there, as well, but not the kind of intimacy… “Jon. I’m not sure why he’s calling, but anything that needs saying can be couriered. I’ll sign off on anything necessary.”
“I don’t think that’s what it’s about.”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“Are you absolutely sure?”
She somehow set her coffee down and folded her hands together to control the trembling. People had to quit talking to her about him. She’d ducked Kate’s calls, and Theresa’s for this very reason. Hurting other people because she couldn’t do this.
With exaggerated calm, she said, “Certain. I’m not stupid, Jon, nor a masochist. If I keep him far away, he can’t hurt me again. That’s really important to me, because I don’t think…” His stricken face told her he understood that she couldn’t come back a second time. Third, in truth, but who was counting?
“Got it. Then sit down, because I have a proposition for you.”
Dropping into a client chair, she picked up her cup again. “Something good?”
“I opened a branch of the company on the east coast last year as you know, and my CEO just resigned. I need someone out there to spearhead the campaigns.”
“Me? I’m not qualified.”
“Not on paper. But you have a lot of experience. You’ve also worked in most every department here, or overseen projects, and you know me. What I expect.”
Leave California? Leave her family? Leave … Logan? “For how long?”
“Minimum six months but possibly up to a year. And if I don’t find someone and you like it, then for however long.”
“If I can do it. Well.”
“That goes without saying. You might be my best employee and my dear friend, but—”
“Business is business and love is bullshit. I know.” She’d heard it often enough, although Jon had a soft core he tried hard not to show.
“Take a couple of days—”
“No need. I can be on the next plane.” Her family would take care of her house, rent it out, whatever.
“Now I know you’re a freaking mess.” Jon crossed to the window and peered out, obviou
sly wanting to say more.
Speaking to his back, she said, “How could I not be, my friend? Seriously? This opportunity will give me the distance I need and the time to put myself back together or at least rebuild. I’ll be too busy to fret.”
“You won’t have any support,” he warned. “Your family’s here.”
“The magic of the telephone, Jon. And my mother loves to fly.”
“I’ll get Myrna to make the arrangements for tomorrow. Give you time to pack and whatever. The company has a small apartment there, fully furnished. Any visiting executives will have to use a hotel because it’s yours.”
“Hugs. Now let’s talk about Tattered Bride.” They had reserved space in a variety of small presses as well as Jon’s own E-zine for the anticipated sales, and the shoot would soon be underway.
“Transfer it to Boston.”
“Really?
“It’s your conception. See it through to the end. Just make the deadline.”
“Done.”
She spent a little time packing a small box up from her desk, though avoided the rest of the staff. Except for Myrna. She found the woman in the break room, staring into the fridge.
“Myrna.”
Her secretary jumped. “Oh, hey. Sorry. Looking for my yogurt, but it’s gone. I swear I’m gonna put a nanny cam in here. And when I find out who is taking my food…”
“Have you made my flight arrangements yet?”
“Sure. I emailed them to you. For tomorrow, right?” Myrna plucked an apple from the shelf. “I wonder how long this has been in there?”
“Tomorrow,” Victoria agreed, ignoring the fruit question. “I’m going to ask something of you.”
About to take a bite, the other woman obviously heard the seriousness in her tone. “Okay.”
“If people call here for me, I want you to say I’m no longer working here. And that’s it. Refer them to Jon.”
Myrna wrinkled her brow. “Not that you’ve been transferred to Boston?”
“Not that you know where I am, period. You don’t have to lie. Simply say that I’m no longer here and you’re not at liberty to give out additional information. Jon will deal with them.”
Understanding washed over Myrna’s face. “Oh, right. I get it. A fresh start after … everything.”
“Exactly. Thanks. And Myrna? News of my new position will get out soon enough, but no one but you and I, and Jon know for now.” Victoria watched her secretary’s eyes and knew the message had been received.
“You can count on me to keep it quiet.”
Returning to her office, she tucked the box under her arm and poked her head in to say goodbye to Jon. “No gushy stuff. But thanks again. I’ll read the files on the plane. And Jon? I won’t let you down.”
“I know you won’t.” He got up and came to hug her. “Gushy stuff isn’t bad between friends, sweetie. I want Facetime every evening, and you call if you need to.”
Squeezing him tight, she blinked back tears. If she started that nonsense she’d cry forever. “I will. Be good. Or not.”
“Get gone. See your family and break the news. Pack. Whatever. It’ll be strange around here without you.”
She took the stairs, instead of the elevator and was puffing by the time she reached the street. Much of her clothing was already packed, in preparation for moving into Logan’s condo, so she hauled those cases out to her vehicle. It didn’t take long to gather up the rest of the items she thought she might need, although there was nothing for a Boston winter. Well, that’s what shopping was about. She added a few keepsakes and some pictures to make her new place feel homey.
There wasn’t much in the fridge, because she was supposed to have moved out, so she emptied the rest into the garbage, and then turned it off, propping open the doors. Her name jumped out at her and she reached a shaking hand out to touch the note.
Freeing it from the magnet, she held it carefully, as one might hold a sleeping snake. If she read it, what would it do to her plans? Would whatever he’d written cause her to leave herself open for additional pain? Curiosity dulled as she considered her options. Better she left well enough alone, like deleting those spam messages that promised such wonderful things if only one would click on the link… She knew better.
Crumpling the paper, she dropped it on top of the odds and ends from the refrigerator, and managed to leave it there, though the corners curled up to give a tantalizing glimpse of Logan’s handwriting. As she shut down the hot water tank, the enormity of what she was undertaking rolled over her. She sank onto a kitchen chair and rubbed her forehead. She’d made the commitment, and she kept her promises, but was she overreacting? Was this opportunity actually flight? Her family was going to ask the same questions, and she didn’t want to wing it.
Wrapping her arms around her ribs in an awkward parody of a hug, she whimpered, a loud sound in the quiet space without even the humming of the fridge to offset it. She missed Logan. She missed everything about him, from the way he made her laugh, to feeling confident and special … his handsome face, brilliant mind, and innate kindness. She longed for him beside her at night, both recovering from strenuous lovemaking that cemented their bond.
Sometimes he would turn to her in the dark, and she’d be ready for him with a mere touch, ready for him to slip inside of her. No one made her feel the way he did. And that was what made his rejection all the more agonizing.
A scalding sob tore up her throat, choking her and making her gasp. How did good men hide their darkness so that the women who loved them didn’t see? Or was she blind, blinded by how deeply in love she’d been? There had been no sign, nothing. Had there? She knew a braver woman would face Logan, now he had something to say, and read that note. But she couldn’t bring herself to hear it. Fool me once… She’d wither up and blow away a second time, the husk that would be left, and she owed herself—and her family—more than that. Trust was everything.
Using a dishtowel to dry her face, she admonished herself. It was time to move on. People did it all the time, and she wasn’t special, no different. She’d either lie down, giving in, or she’d pick herself up and carry on. With the pep talk complete, she stuffed the towel in the garbage and hauled it and the last case outside, snapping off the light and locking up. Done.
She made the drive to her sister’s on autopilot, and took three tries to park close enough to the curb, before making her way inside. The usual cacophony of sound greeted her and she swept both kids into her arms and settled them on either hip.
“Your face is puffed.” Her niece patted her cheek. “Like Topsy.”
Topsy being Sabrina’s dumpling of a doll, Victoria winced. “I have the sniffles.”
Mikey tweaked her nose. “Sniffles.”
“Right.” She smiled widely. “C’mon, you two. Your dad probably made a great dinner.”
“Macaroni,” they both crowed and she squeezed them tight. She’d miss the kids so much.
“You couldn’t have picked someplace further to run to? Like New Zealand?” Juliana made coffee after putting the kids to bed. Dinner had been a quiet affair, thanks to macaroni and cheese, and Victoria had gotten away with one bedtime story each. “What’d Mom say?” her sister continued.
“She’s on her way. I called her. She and Frank are at dinner, but she’ll be along. Paige can’t bring the kids, so I’ll see her in the morning before I leave. Robert’s coming over, though.” She frowned. “Maybe he thinks I need legal advice.”
Michael slammed the door on the dishwasher. “You have a place to live there? Because I have contacts.”
“I’m good. I’ll stay in the company apartment. If I end up living in Boston, I’ll be asking for advice on the best area to live in, though.”
“You aren’t staying there. Not forever.” Juli dumped containers of sugar and cream on the table. “This is an adventure. A challenging career move to keep you so busy you won’t fall apart and a way to heal, right? Your way of healing.”
“Exactly.�
�
“So it’s not forever.”
There was no forever. “Don’t get excited, Juli. It was a comment. That’s all.” Except she wasn’t going to want to see Logan with his next woman, ever, and while the city was big, it was inevitable she’d run into him. Them. If she lived here. She parted her lips to take in a cleansing breath without making it obvious.
“Sure.” Her sister poured coffee and sat across from her, badgering her with questions about the new job, without another reference to Logan. Bless her.
Her mother arrived shortly, at the same time as Robert, and wasn’t as freaked as Victoria expected.
“I’ll miss you, one of my girls so far away, Tori, but if you’re determined to leave Logan behind, it might be for the best.”
Leave Logan behind? He’d jilted her, for God’s sake. “Mom? Logan left me, remember?”
“And he’s reaching out. Maybe it’s to make amends. Men get cold feet. Things happen.”
“They do,” Robert intoned, looking very lawyerly. Except for a swollen right hand, the knuckle in the middle a dark purple.
“What?” She stared at her brother-in-law. “What’s going on? And what happened to your hand?”
He shrugged and tucked it in his pocket. “I jammed it in something. And I was merely agreeing with your mother. Paige would rather you stay here.”
“And you came over to tell me that? I’m seeing her tomorrow.”
Maybe he didn’t have the perfect lawyer face because she saw a flicker of wariness. “Robert.”
He lifted a shoulder. “I think you could be making a mistake, Victoria. Leaving. Call it lawyer’s intuition.”
“Is there something about the paperwork I signed? With Logan?” There was no pre-nup. He’d refused, even though his father had strongly recommended it. To avoid alienating the older man, she’d insisted on signing an agreement that bound her to give up any and all interests in the Doherty Holdings, in the event of a divorce. Robert had reviewed it.
“I checked,” he admitted. “Just to be sure. It’s good.”
“Did my mother say something about suing?” She bent a suspicious stare on her parent.
The Tattered Bride Page 5
