Finally, he turned off the movie and went into his room, piling everything from Lauryn onto the bed. He just needed to get rid of it all. Every reminder of her needed to go. He couldn't let her have any more space in his mind or his life.
Once he was sure he'd found everything, he stared at the pile. That stuff could be donated. Surely, someone could find a good use for it all. He found a trash bag and loaded it up. He'd just leave it downstairs with a free sign on it.
In fact, now would be the perfect time to take everything downstairs. He found a blank piece of paper, wrote free on it, and taped it to the bag of the stuff Lauryn gave him. Then he grabbed the garbage full of trinkets and mugs. All that was left were the flowery candles in the bathroom. He added those to the free bag and lugged everything downstairs.
Once free of all the stuff, he felt as though a weight had been lifted from his chest. He went back to his apartment, settled into the couch, kicked his feet up on the coffee table, and accidentally knocked over a pile of mail. He picked up the scattered envelopes and noticed one he hadn't before. His name and address were written neatly in an all-too-familiar handwriting. It was from Lauryn.
Clay's heart sank. Just when he thought he'd gotten her out of his life.
Should he read it or toss it? He didn't want to deal with anymore drama from her. On the other hand, what if there was something important in it?
He would read it quickly and then throw it in the recycle bin.
Hands shaking, he opened the envelope and pulled out the lavender-colored paper to read the handwritten letter.
Dear Clay,
I'm sending this letter because I can't get in contact with you any other way. I've had time to think about everything you said, and you're right on so many levels.
Both of us were blind to how far we'd grown apart. Probably me more than you. I had all these dreams and visions of how our life would go, and I didn't want to let go of any of that.
I'm sorry things ended the way they did. I hope we can be friends again at some point. It would be a huge loss to have you out of my life forever. You're such an important part of my past, Clay. You've helped to shape me into the person I've become, and because of that, I can't apologize enough for the way things ended between us. I was desperate not to lose you, and as a result pushed you away. I see that now. You have my word that I'll leave you alone from here on out.
Please know that I want the best for you and you'll always hold an important place in my heart.
I hope you find happiness in all you do. No one deserves it more.
Love,
Lauryn
Clay's stomach twisted in knots. Was she telling the truth? He had to read it a couple times for it to sink in. It was hard to know how to react, but relief flooded him. He didn't have to worry about her surprising him with any more visits—especially when he was with Dakota. It was also nice to know that they didn't have to be at odds. He wasn't ready to attempt to be friends, but at least it was an option.
She was right about one thing. They had been influential in each other's lives, and it really would be a loss to cut her out completely.
He slid the letter back into the envelope and took it into his room, setting it on his dresser. He'd figure out what to do with it later.
His gaze wandered to the top drawer and he froze.
There was one thing he'd forgotten to get rid of in his haste to rid the apartment of all things Lauryn. His stomach lurched.
Heart pounding, he slid open the drawer and pushed aside a pile of socks. He pulled out the little black box and opened it.
He'd paid off the engagement ring so long ago, there was no way he could return it. Maybe he could sell it to a local jeweler. It was beautiful and expensive, surely they would want it. Especially since it had never been worn.
Clay's heart raced. He needed to get rid of it immediately. With the sun out, surely businesses were open. He closed the drawer, grabbed his jacket, stuck the ring in his pocket, and found his truck keys.
He couldn't wait to tell Dakota that he'd completely cleared Lauryn from his life, and once he got rid of the ring, it would be official. The ring was more a symbol of him holding onto the past than anything else.
With a smile on his face, he hurried down to the garage and warmed his truck. Once in the parking lot, snow crunched under the tires, but on the roads, everything was clear, aside from the sand to keep from skidding on ice. Black ice hid in many of the shady spots. On the side, snow was piled high where the trucks had plowed it to get it out of the way.
Despite that, other drivers were going about five miles an hour. Some were still managing to slide out of their lanes.
Clay was grateful for his beast of a truck. If anyone slammed into him, they would do more damage to their vehicle than his.
He drove painfully slowly to the main part of town. More than anything, he wanted to put the pedal to the metal and race to the jeweler. It seemed to take hours, but in reality, probably only took twenty minutes.
Not that it mattered. A handwritten sign told him they were closed for the weekend due to the weather.
Disappointment ran through him. He wanted to be free of the ring.
At least he could bring his bike home and get it out of The Chateau's entry for Dakota. He turned around and headed for work. The parking lot was empty, as expected—and still full of snow. He eased the truck up to the front and backed up carefully.
Luckily, Dakota had trusted him with a set of keys. He'd needed them most of the week, when she'd been avoiding him.
Clay unlocked the front door and then opened the tailgate. He pulled out his aluminum ramp and set it up. Once it was secure, he pushed the bike outside and started it. After it had warmed up, he rode the bike up the ramp, turned it off, and gingerly rested it in his truck bed before covering it with a blanket.
He locked up the building, climbed back inside the truck, and pulled out his phone to see if there were any other jewelers in town. There weren't. He would have to go two towns over to find another one.
It wasn't worth it. Not with the icy roads and unskilled snow drivers. Back home, people would have laughed at the scene before him. Driving in snow and ice was just a part of life.
The ring would just have to wait. He could have a movie marathon and try again the next day. His stomach ached. Maybe he'd have to skip the popcorn.
Seventeen
Dakota arrived at work on Monday, mocha in hand and ready for the week. She opened the front door and was surprised to see the Ducati gone. She hadn't seen it in the parking lot.
Marina ran up to her. "What are we going to do about the missed weddings? I've got two stressed brides."
"Take a deep breath," Dakota said, not feeling a bit of worry. The weekend had done wonders for her outlook on life. She'd spent the whole time lounging around, replaying every moment with Clay over and over.
Her heart leaped just thinking about him.
"We can all do yoga if you want," Marina exclaimed, "but these brides are frantic. They wanted to be married, but they're not!"
"Give me a few minutes, and I'll talk to them." Dakota glanced around. "Have you seen Clay?"
"No. We—"
"Was a motorcycle in here when you came in?"
Marina gave her a double-take. "What? No. In here?"
"Never mind." Dakota smiled. He must have gotten it over the weekend. "Take an early break, okay? Everything's going to be fine. I'll handle the upset brides." She patted Marina on the shoulder and headed into her office.
Once settled in, she turned on the laptop and found the information for the two unmarried brides from the previous weekend. She called the first one.
"Hello?" came a stressed feminine voice.
"Hi, Shana," Dakota said, trying to be as calming as possible. "This is Dakota Hunter from The Chateau."
"What are we going to do?" Shana exclaimed. "All my guests were planning on showing up on Saturday. They had plane reservations, time off work, and everything
. What about my cake and the food? My flowers? They're going to be wilted!" The poor girl went on and on.
Dakota let Shana vent all her frustrations until she was done. "It's all going to work out. I promise. First of all, everyone understands that weather conditions are out of anyone's control. Your guests will be able to switch their plane reservations and work schedules. The florist can keep your flowers fresh. She's the best of the best. Everything else will work out, too."
"But when am I going to get married?" she wailed. "I was supposed to be on my honeymoon right now. We couldn't even fly out for that and come back for the ceremony later."
"I understand your stress," Dakota said. "We at The Chateau are going to do everything in our power to fix as much of this as possible. That's why you hired us."
The poor girl broke down into a fit of sobs.
Dakota talked with her for another half an hour until she was breathing normally and done venting.
Aria came in. "That was really impressive. I hope you're up to dealing with another one."
"Sure," Dakota said. "But we're all going to have to work extra hard this week. If we have to rent out local churches or even City Hall, we're going to make sure these brides are married by the weekend."
Aria nodded. "No problem."
Dakota checked the time. "Have you seen Clay?"
"I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but he called in sick. He's got some sort of stomach virus. I didn't get the details because he was too sick to stay on the line."
"Oh, no." Dakota's heart plummeted. "I hope he's okay."
"He did say he was going to the doctor if he didn't feel better by noon."
"Thanks."
"Sorry to add more to your plate, but can you call Mikaela? She's just as upset as the other bride."
Dakota took a swig of her coffee. "I'm on it. I need you and Marina to call around and find places we can have these weddings."
"You got it, boss." Aria saluted her and disappeared into the hall.
It was tempting to call Clay, but she didn't want to bother him. He probably needed some sleep, and besides, she had another worried bride to calm down.
The morning flew by in a blur. Lunchtime seemed to arrive in a matter of minutes, and Dakota's stomach rumbled, demanding food. She ordered takeout for herself, Marina, and Aria. They ate while working out details of the four weddings coming up that weekend.
"Each of us is going to have to oversee one wedding," Marina pointed out.
Dakota swallowed and nodded. "We'll be fine."
"Will Clay be up to it?" Aria asked, eyes wide. "Not only is he sick, but he hasn't even overseen one wedding."
It was hard not to get sucked into all the stress. Dakota took a deep breath. "He'll be here with one of us and the rest of our staff. Marina and I will take the ones off site. Everything will be fine." She smiled widely, trying to convince them, even though she wasn't entirely convinced herself. They would have to make do, and they had no other choice.
They continued brainstorming, and by the time lunch was over, everyone felt better.
"You two call back Shana and Mikaela. I've got to find out what's going on with Charlotte Pemberley."
Marina's eyes widened. "I thought her wedding wasn't for a month."
"It's not, but she still hasn't had her initial dress fitting." Dakota threw her garbage away and headed for her office. She slunk into her chair and glanced over at the desk Clay usually sat at.
As much as she needed to call Charlotte, she needed to call him more. She pulled out her phone and called him. It went to voicemail.
"Hey, this is Clay. You know what to do."
Beep.
"Hi, Clay. This is Dakota. I'm really sorry to hear you're sick. If you need anything, just let me know. Hope you feel better soon. Bye." Dakota hung up, feeling stupid. She'd wanted to say more, but wasn't sure what would be crossing the line. There was no way to say she'd been thinking of him all weekend without sounding either stalkerish or desperate.
Hopefully he wouldn't notice. She got back to work, and before she knew it, her stomach was rumbling again. As tempting as it was to power through, she knew she needed the break.
Aria and Marina were in a conference room, both typing furiously on their laptops.
"Let's call it a night," Dakota said.
Marina looked up at her, her eyes wild. "I still haven't found a place for Shana's wedding."
Dakota gave her a reassuring glance. "I'll work on it at home. You get to your family."
"Are you sure?" Marina asked.
"Of course."
"Mikaela's wedding is secured for City Hall," Aria said. "They agreed to it and I'm getting everything set up now."
"You go home, too. We've got all week to set everything up."
Dakota went home and worked in her office until she fell asleep at the keyboard. She woke up with a kink in her neck and a sore shoulder. Groaning, she rubbed both and then went upstairs to bed, not bothering to change out of her clothes.
The next few days went by in a hectic flash while Clay was still out sick. He'd left a message with Marcel, saying the doctor told him the stomach flu was going around and lasting three to five days.
On Thursday, Aria popped into Dakota's office. "Have you heard from Clay? We're going to have to figure something out if he's not going to be able to work on one of the weddings."
Dakota glanced at her phone. Still no calls or texts from him. "The doctor said it would last up to five days, right?"
Aria nodded.
"Then he should be fine by Saturday."
"You hope."
"I'll give him a call. And if he's still sick this weekend, my sister can help. She said she set the day aside in case we need anything at all."
"At least that's something." Aria slid her finger around her tablet's screen. "Okay. Just let us know what's going on when you find out."
"Will do."
Dakota turned back to her laptop, but couldn't focus on the screen. For about the billionth time, her mind wandered back to the snowy evening with Clay. Not the awkward part, but of him wrapping his arms around her and giving her those electrifying kisses.
She pulled out her phone and called him.
Voicemail again.
Either he was really sick or his phone had died.
Or he regretted the other night.
Dakota shoved that thought from her mind. He was sick, and that was all there was to the story. Logan and her mom had also gotten it and had been bedridden for days.
He probably didn't have anyone to take care of him. What if he was languishing in his apartment, dehydrated and unable to call for help?
Her heart thundered. She needed to get over there to check on him. Why hadn't she thought of that earlier?
She shut down the laptop, slid on her coat, and grabbed her purse. She ran from the building, not bothering to tell anyone where she was going. They had her number.
Dakota went to the nearest grocery store and picked up some already-prepared chicken soup, crackers, and popsicles. All the things a sick person needed.
On her way to his apartment, she noticed a cherry red motorcycle parked on the side of the road. She slowed, and sure enough, it was the familiar Ducati.
Confused, she pulled into the nearest parking spot. Which store would he be in? The only stores were a baseball card shop, a secondhand bookstore, a barbershop, and the jeweler. Maybe he was getting his hair trimmed.
She climbed out, curious.
No, he wasn't at the barber's. Was he a closet card collector? Nope, no customers in there. Just a couple bored-looking guys behind the counter.
Dakota glanced in the jeweler's window on her way to the bookstore. She froze mid-step. There Clay stood, at the counter in the section where they kept the engagement rings. She'd been in there enough times to know.
Mouth gaping, she stared at him. He stood, partially turned from her, talking to the lady behind the counter.
Her mind raced, trying to figure ou
t why he would be there.
He turned and held up an engagement ring into the light.
That explained everything. He'd gotten back together with Lauryn. He wasn't sick. He'd been avoiding Dakota.
Eighteen
Dakota tried to blink back the tears as she hurried to her car. It didn't work. They streamed down her face. She'd never been so hurt or humiliated in her life. Once inside, it took three tries to get her keys in the ignition. Her hands wouldn't stop shaking.
The phone rang. She dug it out of her purse, but dropped it. It bounced underneath the brake pedal. She fished it out with her feet and grabbed it just as the ringing stopped.
It was Charlotte. Of course. Dakota didn't care what she wanted. She couldn't deal with Charlotte or anyone else. It didn't matter that there were four weddings this weekend—all on Saturday.
She tried to take a deep breath. Marina and Aria needed her. They were all already running around in a crazed frenzy.
In the rear view mirror, Dakota saw the door of the jewelry store open. She jammed the phone back into her purse and pulled out of the spot, tires squealing. So much for leaving without being noticed.
A horn blared behind. She gave an embarrassed wave of apology and sped away, tears still flowing uncontrollably.
"I should've listened to my gut and just taken a break from men," she muttered. What she needed was to start collecting cats. Lots of them. Then she could focus on them rather than her pitiful dating life.
Her heart squeezed, and she turned the opposite way of The Chateau. Despite how much they needed her, she couldn't face work right now. Not a bunch of happy couples. It had never felt like such a slap in the face before.
Before she knew it, Dakota found herself in the parking lot of Dad and Sullivan's real estate building. She found a spot in the back corner and gave into her tears.
The image of Clay holding the diamond ring wouldn't leave her mind. The tears wouldn't stop. She leaned her head against the steering wheel and sobbed.
Her phone rang again. She reached into her handbag, turned it on silent, and continued wailing.
Bayside Evenings Page 11
