What If I Never

by Lisa Renee Jones

  “Allison,” he says softly, willing me to look at him, his attention on me when it should be on her.

  I steel myself for the impact and school my features, I hope, to unaffected. “Yes?” I ask, meeting his stare, which still feels intimate, and I am confused, so very confused by this man.

  “I want you to meet my agent,” he says. “This charity means a lot to her as well. She’ll be helpful as we move forward.”

  We.

  As we move forward.

  This is not a man who uses words without intent. He chose them, used them, wanted me to understand them. Us. We. What is this?

  The woman stops beside us. “There you are, Dash,” she says. “I’ve been looking for you. And why are you always eating?”

  The jest simply confirms a comfortable, personal relationship that does nothing to make this moment any easier for me.

  Dash stands, and I follow him to his feet, both of us angling toward the woman. I can see her fully now, up close and personal, and the conclusion is as expected. She’s gorgeous, her skin pale perfection, her eyes remarkably light blue, almost the same shade as Dash’s. “Bella,” he says. “Meet Allison, the woman I told you about.”

  “Right,” she concludes “The woman from Riptide.” She glances over at me. “Welcome, Allison.”

  “Allison,” Dash says next, motioning to the other woman. “This is Bella. My agent and,” he looks at me, “my sister.”

  His sister? Did he just say his sister?

  He did.

  He said sister.

  I try not to gape, but I look at her and then him, and damn it, there is relief flooding my body in a ridiculous wave, I’m fairly certain is all over my face. And oh yes, the mischief is back in Dash’s eyes, as he adds, “She’s a bitch, but only to me. She’ll be a good person to know around here.”

  “Asshole,” Bella snaps. “I just got you double on your contract.” She shoves his arm and eyes me. “He’s never grateful. Ever. And I’d tell you more—all the gossip he doesn’t want me to tell—but sadly, considering I’d enjoy that, I can’t right now. I have to steal Dash for a conference call with his publisher, but I’ll find you tomorrow. I want to chat about the charity auction. I really appreciate you swooping in to save us.” She motions to Dash. “Come.” She turns and starts walking away, quite obviously leaving him to say his goodbye to me on his own.

  Dash shifts his body toward mine. “You thought she was my girlfriend,” he accuses softly.

  “I mean, well—it’s not my place to think anything.”

  “Why not?”

  I blink at him, tongue-tied and finally just say, “I have no idea how to answer that.”

  He smiles, and damn, it’s a sexy smile. “You have my number. Call me after your meeting tomorrow.”

  It’s both a question and a command, and oddly, considering I’m not exactly great at taking commands, both sit well with me. He turns and walks away, all swagger and hot man, and there is no denying that I’m melting for him, right here in the Hawk Legal café.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  I sit down at my desk and do the only thing a girl can do when she’s trapped in a small office with a cookie after getting hot and bothered by a man like Dash Black. I stuff a big bite of the cookie in my mouth. It’s at that moment, that a bosomy, fiftyish redhead in a black dress and heels walks into my office. Because of course, why would I shut my door before stuffing my face?

  “Best damn cookie in the city,” she approves, closing the space between me and her to sit in front of me. “I’m Natalie Jolie from Human Resources—no relation to the movie star because I’m just not that lucky in life.”

  At this point, I’ve thankfully swallowed without choking and I say, “Hi, Natalie Jolie, no relation to the movie star. I’m not that lucky either, or you wouldn’t have caught me with a cookie in my mouth.”

  “You’re luckier than me. I couldn’t get one today. They sell out by lunchtime every day, and I’ve been in meetings. You obviously wowed the boss. I found out about you at seven this morning.”

  “I think it’s more about the right time and place for both of us. He needs help with the auction, and I’m here for a few months before going back to New York.”

  “Yeah well, I heard your story, and you sounded too good to be true. Reminded me of the last man I dated. I wanted to check you out and check you out fast. So I called Riptide.”

  “I would have given you my boss’s direct number, but I never got the chance. Tyler hired me and told me to show up. Then he walked away.”

  She laughs. “Sounds like Tyler. The man’s a bull in a china shop, but somehow, he never breaks anything. This time is no exception. I talked to Crystal Smith.”

  Crystal being the operations manager at Riptide.

  “She wants you back at work,” she continues, “but she told me that she and the entire team at Riptide support your need to be here right now.” She clears her throat. “I know about your mother.”

  “I told Tyler. It’s not a secret. She’s in remission. I just—to be frank—I’m not ready to leave her.”

  “My mother’s a bitch, and I’d still feel the same way. I get it. And I’m going to tell you the truth, honey, I haven’t done your paperwork. Tyler told me about it this morning, no warning at all.”

  “No worries,” I say. “I’m committed to the auction.”

  “Good. Allison leaving like she did has been a bit of hell. Fair warning, people are going to confuse you two, and I’m sure she dropped the ball on a few things that were promised to people.”

  “What do I need to say if they ask questions?”

  “Tell them she had a family emergency and had to take a leave of absence. I don’t want them dragging you down that rabbit hole of questions, and that’s not fair to you. ‘Family emergency’ should keep them from asking for more detail. I don’t think she’s coming back, but Tyler does, so we do what the boss wants. We wait on her.”

  I’m dying to ask more questions, but I stick to, “Can I reach her if I have specific questions?”

  “She won’t call me back, but maybe if you call and say you’re doing her job, she will.” She grimaces. “No, it’s not fair to use you that way.”

  “I don’t mind. It would help me to chat with her.”

  “Let me think about it. I don’t want Tyler doing his oh so formal, sharp-toned, ‘Ms. Jolie,’ routine on me anytime soon.” She stiffens her spine and imitates his deep voice. “That means I’m in trouble.”

  “I’ve experienced that version of scolding already,” I laugh.

  “I’m sure you have,” she says and moves on. “I’ll email you the paperwork if you can shoot me your address. You have a company email as well, but I haven’t even put the order into tech yet to set it up.”

  I grab a sticky note and write down my email. “Here you go,” I say, handing it to her.

  “Great. Oh, and a couple more things. Riptide confirmed your salary. We matched it.” She reaches into her pocket and sets a business card on my desk, flipping it over. “That’s the address and the code to get into the house. There’s a new air conditioner being put in. It will be done tomorrow. You can move in as early as tomorrow night.”

  I blink. “House?”

  “The house.” She studies me, searching my face. “You don’t know about the house?”

  “No. Sorry. What house?”

  “Tyler owns a house not far from here, with a cellar filled with rare and collectible wines. He can’t get it insured if it’s unoccupied. Allison lived there as part of her salary. I can’t believe he didn’t tell you this.”

  I’m stunned by this offer, which is quite generous. “No. I had no idea.”

  “This situation, as you can see, is why I believe she won’t be back. She moved out. Tyler thought that since you actually live in New York, this might be a win-win for you and him. You live there. He holds onto his insurance. You can think about it, but I need to know soon.”

  “Why don’t you li
ve there?” I ask. “Or someone else?”

  “It was never offered to me or someone else. Just Allison. I’m not sure how she ended up there. I just know that Tyler wants the house occupied, but he also wants it available if Allison comes back.”

  My head is spinning, but I try to think logically. “I’m a little concerned about the wine. Am I responsible for it? Not that I think anything will happen, but what if the house is robbed while I’m there?”

  “He has insurance. Think about it. You don’t have to accept.”

  “No. No. I’ll do it. I’ll take the offer. Honestly, I’m in my mother’s pool house right now. I need to start small, give her some space. It will make leaving easier. It’s actually a perfect situation, but I do have to be back to work at Riptide right after New Year’s.”

  “If she’s not back by then, I think it will be time for Tyler to accept that she’s not returning. Watch for the email.” She stands and heads for the door.

  I stand and call out to her. “What if Allison comes back?”

  She pauses in the doorway and glances back at me. “It’s yours until you leave. I already put that in your paperwork. You look like her, by the way,” she adds.

  This comment yet again takes me off guard, and I blanch. But just that quickly, she is gone, and before I can remind her to get me Allison’s phone number. I’ve now taken over Allison’s office, her job, and her house. She lived in Tyler’s house. Did he send her that necklace? No, of course not. He wouldn’t send her a necklace to the office when he knew she was gone. Unless it was never supposed to go to the office?

  Suddenly I’m eager to get to my new house, Allison’s house. Maybe I’ll find out where she is when I get there.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  My mother calls me mid-afternoon to check-in. “How’s the job, honey bear?”

  “It’s good,” I say. “I like what I’m doing. I like working to help a good cause.”

  “See, I always thought you could be a nurse.”

  I laugh. “Except the part where I don’t like blood, Mom. Or needles.”

  “Right. True. You do scream when you see a needle.”

  “When I was a kid,” I remind her indignantly.

  “Really? I thought you still did that.”

  I laugh again. “All right. Someone has her smart mouth back.”

  “I’m back, honey. I don’t know why you can’t see that.”

  “I do,” I assure her. “I do.”

  “Good, then you’ll be excited to know that I’m enjoying life again which is why Barry and I are going to take a little trip to Texas to see his brother.”

  I drop the pen in my hand. “What? Are you up for that?”

  “Honey,” she says her tone a soft, stern note. “This is me telling you that I’m okay. You need to be okay, too. You can go back to New York.”

  “In January,” I say. “After the holidays and the auction I’m coordinating for my new job. But as a bonus, I’m being given free housing. I’ll give you two some space, but I’ll still be nearby.”

  “Oh. Well, that’s good, but where is it? Is it safe? Do you know the neighborhood?”

  I smile. “Now who’s being too protective?” I tease. “Yes. It’s my boss’s house and I assure you, Tyler Hawk would not own anything that wasn’t up to his reputation.”

  Barry calls her in the background and then she says, “Gotta go. We have a flight to catch, but be careful. Be very careful, honey.”

  I’m focused on her, not me. “Wait. What? Today? You’re leaving today?”

  “Yes, today. I wasn’t giving you time to talk me out of this.”

  “How long are you going to be gone?”

  “We’re not sure yet,” she says. “There’s a Garth Brooks concert in four days. We’re going to that and—”

  “Should you be around that many people?” I challenge.

  “You need to stop,” she chides. “I’m healthy and I do not want to be treated like I’m on my last leg. I’m not. Now go do your job. Send me photos of the house. I love you.”

  Guilt stabs at me with the warning. She’s right. I have to stop, which is why I quickly say, “I love you, too, and Mom, have fun.”

  “I will,” she promises and hangs up.

  I pick up the card Natalie gave me and eye the address. Things happen for a reason. People come together at the time when they are needed. I do believe Tyler Hawk needs me right now, but when I think about Allison, and the plane tickets, the necklace, and the home I’m taking over, I can’t help but wonder if she needs me, too.

  But does she need me to fill in for her or find her?

  That question nags at me and I’m not sure why.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  “Are you leaving soon?”

  At the sound of Katie’s voice, I glance up from my MacBook, and the HR paperwork I’m filling out, to find her in the doorway. “I won’t be much longer. Any word from Tyler?”

  “I left a message with his assistant Debbie earlier and on his phone. I don’t think he’s here.”

  I think about the limited timeline for this auction and dare to ask, “Is there a way to reach him outside of the office? A cellphone maybe?”

  “His office is across the hall. You could try and talk to Debbie, but she’s probably gone already.”

  “Okay, thank you. I’ll try to catch him or her on my way out. Thank you, Katie.”

  “Tomorrow I can dive in and help you a bit,” she says. “Today was just nuts. There was a big client on the upper level who had paparazzi insanity here at the building.”

  “Thank you for the offer. No pressure on that. And as for today, I had no idea anything was going on,” I say. “I’ve been in my own world, trying to get a grip on this auction.”

  “Be glad you didn’t. Truly when the press gets involved, it’s always just ridiculous around here.” She shifts the topic. “You want to have lunch tomorrow?”

  “I have a meeting with the charity off-site tomorrow so I probably can’t, but how about coffee in the morning? I can come in a little early and we can chat.”

  “I’d love that,” she says. “That way once I sit down at the reception desk, I’ll already know what you need from me for the day.”

  “Research,” I say. “Easy really, but tedious.”

  “So are those phones, so I should be a master researcher. I’ll head out and see you soon. Goodnight, Allison, and welcome.”

  “Goodnight, and thank you for making me feel welcome.”

  She smiles and exits the office. I quickly return to my work and finish my paperwork, shooting it back to Natalie. I’m official now. Who would have ever thought a few months ago that I’d be here now? Not me, that’s for sure. But the opportunity has become compelling in all kinds of ways.

  Ready to head home, I load up my briefcase with the auction information to work on at my mom’s place. I then hurry toward the elevator, where I spy the glass doors opposite the main lobby, doors that I now know house Tyler’s office. I wonder why he’s there and not upstairs with the partners. An isolationist, I think again. And while I know why I’ve become that person, why I left a career, and chose to leave most of the people in my life behind with it, I can’t help but wonder what created that in Tyler. Because something did.

  The lobby lights are on and I decide to push forward and try to talk to him. I enter the reception area to find an empty desk that I assume belongs to Tyler’s assistant. Boldly, I cut right down a hallway that leads to an office. Nerves light me up, but I keep on keeping on. I remind myself that Tyler will be eager to talk to me when he knows I have challenges with the auction. He needs me right now, but I remind myself there is no denying that I need this job, too, and not for money, but for my sanity.

  Reaching the office door, I pause just outside the room and knock before leaning in. He’s not at his desk. Damn, maybe he’s not here at all.

  A sudden tingling sensation washes over me and I whirl around to find Tyler standing in front of me, tower
ing over me, so very close. There’s a pulse of power to this man that is a bit unnerving. As is the way he stares down at me with hooded eyes.

  “Can I help you, Ms. Wright?”

  “Allison,” I say and I have no idea what comes over me, but I add, “and if you can’t bring yourself to say her name, just call me Allie. Lots of people do.”

  His eyes narrow, the angles of his handsome face darkening to what might be anger, but he’s just too damn reserved to know. I immediately regret my comment, and since I can’t take it back, I quickly add, “Nothing has been done on the auction. It’s a concept, not an actualized event. I can change that, but time is not my friend, nor our friend. I need manpower. I need help, and at least one extra person.”

  He studies me again and does so with such intensity that I think he’s assessing my very character in this very moment. I expect questions, I expect rejection. Instead, all he says is, “Consider it done. You’ll have help tomorrow.” He steps around me and enters his office.

  I rotate with the intent to follow him inside his office, but as soon as I’ve done so, I find he’s stopped as well, and he’s now in front of me again. “Something else, Ms. Wright?”

  Again with the Ms. Wright, I think, and I wonder if he’s trying to present a line between me and him. Why? Because he does so with everyone or because he didn’t do so with the other Allison?

  “I’m going to stay in the house,” I announce. “Thank you. It’s a good way for me to be close to my mother without suffocating her.”

  “It seems we’ve met at the right time,” he replies, and then he seems to read between the lines, to sense something in me that has him asking, “What do you want to ask me?”

  “Why did she leave?”

  His lips press together and he cuts his stare, almost as if counting down the beats to control before he turns away from me and walks into the office. He then rounds his desk and sits down behind it. I’m still in the hallway, just beyond the office, and I’m not sure if this is a dismissal or an invitation, but I choose the latter, boldly following his path but pausing on this side of the desk.

  Forcing confidence, I sit down in the chair in front of him.