“I wonder if you’re not more spontaneous than you might think,” he observes. “Do you regret your decision?”
“My mother says regrets are for sinking ships,” I say, and the statement punches at me pretty darn hard. She never once thought of herself as a sinking ship, and yet that is how I’ve felt about myself these past few weeks. “I like to think I’m not that.”
“Wise words from a beautiful lady.”
My cheeks heat with a compliment from this man of all men. “Thank you, and you must be freezing.” I motion to the side street. “I’m right over there. You don’t have to—”
“No,” he says. “I don’t, but I want to. I’m coming with you.”
His insistence pleases me.
We head in that direction, and I dig the keys out of my purse to my ancient college car, a Nissan Altima that’s seen better days, not sure why my mother kept the thing, but glad for it now. I don’t actually have another car and with good reason. Parking is expensive in New York City, and traffic is hell.
“This is me,” I say, stopping at the driver’s door and click the locks before turning to face him. “Thank you for walking me.” I slide out of his jacket and offer it back to him.
He accepts it and slips it on, but he doesn’t make any effort to leave. He’s studying me again, a bit intensely actually. “Why were you at the party tonight?” he asks.
“I’m here in Nashville for a few months, until January actually. Tyler needs help with his charity auction. I’m going to fill in for the other Allison.” I know then that I’ve made my decision. I’m taking the job.
“You’re going to work for Tyler,” he says, and there’s an odd vibe of disapproval to his tone.
“Yes. I agreed to work for Tyler.”
“What about Riptide?” he asks.
“I’m forging a partnership between Hawk Legal and Riptide and, in the meantime, helping a good cause. The auction is for charity.” I frown. “I actually don’t even know what it is yet or which Hawk client chose the charity. I’m passionate about helping a good cause. I can’t believe I didn’t ask for details but it’s your chosen organization, right?”
“Drive Sober and Safely. Yes. It’s my charity. And I’m sure you’ll do an amazing job. Goodnight, Allison.” He steps back from me, turns, and walks away. It’s as if I’ve turned a switch from on to off, and I don’t know why.
CHAPTER TEN
I arrive at my parents’ place in the old Nashville neighborhood of Germantown at ten o’clock.
It’s late for my mom and stepdad, who are early to bed and earlier to rise, but with the garage on the east side of the house, I easily slip inside and kill the engine without disturbing them. The walk to the pool house where I’ve been staying the past three months is down a short, dark path I know well. I didn’t grow up in this house, but I spent my later teen years here, and a few friends and I adored the pool house. It was our hideaway. Sneaking to it in the dark was a skill I mastered oh so well. Doing so felt naughty but really quite nice since that was the extent of my bad girl years.
Truly, I had no idea what naughty was back then. I wish sometimes that I could return to that age of innocence, but then again, I’m not convinced I wouldn’t make the same mistakes all over again.
Reaching the door easily, I unlock it, and once I’m inside the house, I turn on the lights and kick off my shoes, leaving them by the door.
Inhaling on a familiar scent, I realize, with a mixed reaction of hot and cold, that I can smell Dash’s cologne on my clothes.
I left him back at the museum, but he’s still with me in all kinds of ways. I’m coordinating an auction for his chosen charity, for his legal counsel. I will see him again. I’m thrilled by the prospect but also fretful. I’m confused about this man. I’m confused about a lot of things in my life right now.
Suddenly parched, I walk to the fridge, grab a bottle of water and then sit down at the kitchen bar that serves as my table. The pool house is tiny, the air doesn’t work, but thankfully the cooler weather has delivered me some relief on that end. Not that tiny really matters to me. I live and rent in Manhattan where tiny apartments rule. I rent, but right before my mother’s illness, I’d been considering buying a place. I’d thought it represented stability and independence, but buying a home wouldn’t have made me feel any more stable when my mother was fighting for her life. Nothing will ever make me feel stable again, not even her remission. I’ll always fear the next cancer scan.
Always.
How am I ever going to go back to New York and leave her here?
This brings me to Mark’s offer to move her there. She won’t go, of course. She and my stepdad have a life here, a good one, too. She’s a nurse. He’s an established fire chief. They both enjoy their work. The hardest part of my mother’s illness for both of them, it seemed, was not being able to fix the problem themselves. They felt helpless. So did I.
I blink myself back into focus and the here and now. I worry that Mark is going to think I took this job with Tyler Hawk as a setup for me to stay here. And maybe, subconsciously, that’s exactly what I did. Riptide is a future though, a dream job, that I am blessed to have. But I only have one mother and my savings is taking a beating.
My mind races and an idea hits me, a really good idea that’s a win-win for everyone involved. I quickly dial Mark, “Ms. Wright,” he greets, answering on the first ring. “It’s late. I expect the party went well and you have good news to share?”
I glance at the clock and cringe. It’s after eleven in New York. “Hi. Sorry. I didn’t even think about the time difference. But yes, I’m calling about the party. I met Tyler Hawk. I have an idea how to make this auction he’s holding good for us all.”
“An idea,” he repeats dryly. “Do please, tell me about this idea.”
“First, I want to just remind you that Hawk Legal represents a huge chunk of country royalty, among other genres of talent, all of whom are the perfect clientele for Riptide. But the country music world especially, because it’s rather removed from the New York City scene.”
“All right,” he says. “You have my attention. Keep going.”
“The auction is this December. Tyler’s coordinator for the event took an emergency leave, much like I was forced to do. Hawk Legal is committed to a charity auction and to its donors. They have to move forward.”
“Which rules us out,” he comments. “We don’t operate that quickly. It compromises the auction numbers.”
“Understood, but I don’t think this has to knock us out,” I say. “I’m here for a few months, and I can handle their auction—they have to pay me of course, not you—but Riptide could sponsor the event as well. It’s great press with a high-profile clientele. On top of all of this,” I say, talking really fast, trying to get it all out before he says no, “I told Tyler Hawk, I’d have the right to seize and exploit all opportunities for Riptide, of which I plan to create many. So there. That’s the idea.”
“How much will this sponsorship cost me?”
“How much are you willing to pay?” I counter.
“Get me a price. Then I’ll let you know.”
“Okay,” I say. “Yes, I can do that.”
“Are you working for him or me, Ms. Wright?”
“You,” I say quickly. “Or well, I guess both of you, but I’m going to turn this into a Riptide win. I’m going to come back and make you glad you kept me on.”
“Big words, Ms. Wright. Big words. All talk and no action makes me displeased.”
“It makes me just as displeased.”
“Doubtful, but let’s see what you can do. Get me more details. Goodnight, Ms. Wright.” He pauses and adds, “If you act in fear, so will she.” With that warning, he hangs up.
I’m left to digest his words. Of course, the she he references is my mother. And his words match the words spoken to me by my mother’s doctor.
Mark Compton just read me and my motives like a book and in turn, he gave me advice, not a
walking ticket. But then, his mother is sick, too. He understands what some cannot. I’m torn between two worlds, but this auction feels like solid ground, and even more so, a purpose.
Feeling motivated, I’m ready to educate myself and head in, firing hot. I key in my password on my MacBook and pull up Hawk Legal, clicking on the “About Us” button. The first thing I scan for is Allison. There’s nothing about her on the site, but then again, there is nothing about anyone who is not an attorney. There’s, of course, the founding family’s story with Tyler Hawk in a featured position on the webpage. He’s thirty-four, a graduate of Yale, and he’s worked his entire career with the firm. He represents some of the biggest athletes, musicians, and actors on planet Earth. The interesting thing is that his client list does not seem to include Dash Black. Maybe one of his parents represents Dash.
That brings me to my interest in Dash Black and how easily that happened.
I google his name. He has a Wikipedia page, which informs me that he’s thirty-six, and an ex-FBI agent turned writer. I had no idea. I’m shocked that he was an FBI agent considering his father is—and I knew this—Nathan Black, a famous author of a dystopian series that has sold millions upon millions of copies worldwide. There are comic books for his series as well, also written by him. I’m really surprised there hasn’t been a movie yet, but I’ve heard it’s been on and off several times. He wasn’t with our publishing house, but it’s a small industry. I wonder how he dealt with Dash nabbing a movie deal before he did? I mean, Nathan is known to be difficult. An asshole, actually, which oh God, what if Dash thought I was talking about his father when I said I’d edited an author who was just that: an asshole? I draw in a breath and let it out. His father has had the same editor for his entire career. He won’t think that.
Relieved by this realization, I move on.
Dash’s mother was Alice Black. She’s deceased, the cause of death was an aneurysm. God, how horrible and unexpected. I pull up her photo and find that she was beautiful and only forty-nine when she died. She was also the founder of the Alice Home Shopping Network, the ultimate home shopping network. Five years ago, I think, scanning the date. Which was almost exactly when Dash’s first book hit the shelves. Just the idea of how the two events must have played against each other for him undoes me. I tab back to the Wikipedia page. Dash had a younger brother, who is also deceased. He died a sophomore in college in a car accident. Unreal. Dash Black has known tragedy and pain, which sadly, is probably what makes him such a good writer. He funnels his emotions into his words, which is a lesson I need to learn in concept, at least. I’m not a writer, but I will funnel my emotions into this auction.
And as a bonus, maybe I’ll find Allison. This job, and helping other people, is exactly what the doctor ordered.
I reach in my purse and pull out the necklace that I had to carry in a velvet bag to fit in my purse. The box it came in is on the table and I open it, settling the necklace back on top of the velvet. The truly unique, and stunning, star-shaped diamonds wink and twinkle like real stars in a night sky. It’s gorgeous, and I wonder if, in its beauty, the sender believed he and Allison would find happiness?
I could have told him the answer. I’ve learned from first-hand experience.
No, diamonds and gifts do not bring happiness, nor do they substitute for love. And they absolutely do not erase the sins of betrayal.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
I work myself into a nervous wreck over the weekend.
A part of me decides that Tyler Hawk was just in the moment Friday night. I could arrive to Hawk Legal’s offices on Monday morning and have no job at all. That thought lends itself to an even bigger bucket of nerves on the morning of my first day of work. I mean, the man didn’t even tell me what time to report, but I improvise. According to the website, the day starts at eight in the morning.
I arrive at seven forty-five, stepping off the elevator with so many jitters I’m fairly certain they’ve formed a puddle at my feet. Katie, the receptionist, is already behind her desk, looking youthful and pretty in a light blue dress, her brown hair flowing softly around her shoulders. She pops to her feet at the sight of me, and instead of that air of privilege she’s offered me in the past, she smiles a greeting. Apparently, Tyler Hawk wasn’t just talking. I’m expected.
“I see you’ve been lured to the dark side,” she teases, holding up a finger as she snags the phone receiver, and presses it to her ear. Punching a button before she speaks to whoever she’s called. “Vivienne, you are summoned. Come cover for me, sweetie.”
With that, she sets the receiver back in place, rounds the desk to join me, and gives me a once-over before announcing, “You look fabulous. I love what you’re wearing today,” she adds of my simple, but I hope elegant black dress. “Armani, right?”
“It is,” I agree. “And thank you.”
“Of course. I’m a label whore and Armani is so very Hawk Legal chic, which is a perfect choice. Everyone here is oh so stylish and it’s by demand. Our clientele can roll out of bed, come in here wearing cut-out jeans and a shirt with a stain on it, but we have to look like we’re going to church, or we’re beneath them. Okay, we’re beneath some of them no matter what, but you can’t let that get to you. Bottom line,” she says as she does a mock fluff of her hair and offers up her best snobby voice, “you look fabulous, darlin’.”
I decide right then she’s not a snob, but more guarded, by necessity of the job. My nerves break into a laugh. I like her. She’s adorable and sweet. “Thank you, darlin’,” I reply with my own best snobby voice, not about to tell her my dress is a secondhand find from a little Manhattan shop a friend at Riptide told me about. It would have cost me seven hundred dollars in a box store. I got it for ninety-three-fifty plus tax.
Right then, a pretty Asian woman appears on the opposite side of the desk and waves at me. “I’m Vivienne, but call me Vivi. Only my mother calls me Vivienne.” She points at Katie. “And her, to irritate me.”
Katie grins and nods. “It works.”
Vivi rolls her eyes at Katie and speaks to me. “I work in accounting right around the corner and cover for Katie here and there. In return, she gives me hell.”
“Yep,” Katie agrees. “I really do.”
“Nice to meet you, Vivi,” I say, smiling at the pair.
Vivi tilts her head to study me and then glances at Katie. “You’re right,” she declares. “She looks like her and just as stylish, too.”
Confused, I eye Katie who explains, “She means you look like the other Allison. You could be sisters.”
I blink, surprised. I look like the other Allison? I’m speechless, and I can’t help but think of the necklace I received for a woman with the same name who I’m told resembles me. It’s one coincidence on top of another. It’s almost too much. I’m not sure what to do with that information, but for now, Katie motions for me to follow her, and I tuck it away for later review.
Soon we’re in a hallway, and it’s a short walk to our right before she pauses at a doorway. “This will be your office,” she says. “Allison’s office.” She gives me a sideways look. “Funny how it’s been Allison’s office times two.”
It’s borderline strange, I think, entering the indicated space to find a desk, a small round conference table, and a sitting area with a bookshelf on either side of the corner behind it. “It’s a wonderful office,” I say. “It smells good. Like—”
“Vanilla and honey,” she says. “She had some candle she always burned.”
“And the smell still lingers. You’re sure Allison won’t mind me using her office?”
Her lips purse. “We’re not sure when she’ll be back. It’ll be fine. If she really does show back up, we’ll move you.” She motions to the desk. “If you want to put your purse and briefcase down, I’ll show you around.”
They’ll move me if needed? Hmmm. Okay. That sounds very temporary, but then I am temporary, I remind myself. I’m here to fill a short gap and obviously, Allison kne
w someone had to help in her time away. I try not to think about how my being here might affect my role at Riptide. Allison might be doing the same about her departure and time away from here. This is her job. I have to respect that as fact.
For now, I hurry to my desk, and open the drawer to the left, hoping for a spot big enough for my oversized purse. My gaze catches on a red envelope and curiosity has me vowing to inspect it later. For now, the drawer is too small and my purse too big.
“This,” Katie announces, stepping across from me and indicating a folder in the center of the desk, “has everything inside you will need to get started. Allison handed it to me the day she left. It should have the names of donors and so on.”
I shut the drawer and she taps the MacBook sitting next to the file. “This is also for your use. You can take it home and treat it as your own. Natalie from HR will stop by to see you in about an hour. She had a meeting planned this morning and you were unexpected.” She motions me to the door again.
“What is Allison’s role here?” I ask, joining Katie in the hallway again.
“Charity liaison,” she says, motioning me to the left, and we start walking. “She coordinates all things charity oriented. That job really expanded when we launched the annual auction. Last year was a really over-the-top fancy event but kind of thrown together last minute. She was very high-profile with our clients and a big part of building our public image.”
I want to ask if she knew Allison well, or knows how to reach her, but Katie pauses at a door with her hand on the knob. “This is the restaurant and coffee bar,” and already she’s opening the door and urging me inside.
I pass through the entryway to a full-blown café, complete with a large seating area of cute little tables, a full coffee bar, and an area where a chef is making what smells like waffles and omelets.
“Everything here is free, so enjoy,” she informs me. “Unfortunately, I hate to run off and leave you, but Vivi has a meeting. She can’t cover me much longer. Grab a coffee or whatever you want. I’ll check on you the minute I can.”
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