What If I Never

by Lisa Renee Jones

  Once we’re at the door, I don’t bother to knock. I open it and lean in, calling out, “Hello, hello! Coming in.”

  “In the kitchen, honey,” my mother shouts back and I smile, stepping inside and motioning Dash forward, excited because she will be excited about meeting him.

  Dash and I walk through the mudroom and turn right into the kitchen.

  We find my mother behind the shiny white oversized island, mixing something in a big bowl, her gaze downturned. Unbidden, my chest pinches, and I suck in a breath at the sight of her, still looking so unlike herself. My mom is fifty-seven, petite, athletic, a dedicated runner, and until her cancer, she looked much younger than her years. But now—now her muscle tone is gone and her body is just so thin. Dash must sense my reaction, his hand settling on my shoulder.

  I catch it, hold onto it, it’s right then that my mother glances up, and her face lights with my arrival. “Allie,” she smiles. “Who’s your friend?” Her brow furrows. “Wait. You, sir, look familiar.”

  “This is Dash, Mom. Dash Black.”

  My stepfather enters the room through the other side of the kitchen. Barry is a big man, over six feet tall, fit, and good-looking. He’s also ten years younger than my mom, which was a problem for me at first, but he won me over with his charm, manners, and adoration for my mother. “Holy hell,” Barry exclaims. “You’re Dash Black.”

  “She just said that, honey,” my mother chimes in.

  “The Dash Black,” he replies, turning his attention back to Dash. “You write the Ghost Assassin books. Holy hell,” he says again.

  Dash laughs. “Yes. Holy hell.”

  I laugh now, too. “Dash this is my stepfather, Barry, and—” I motion to my mother, “my mom.”

  “Cassie,” my mom says. “Call me Cassie. Dash Black, in our kitchen. I don’t even know what to say right now.”

  “Nice to meet you both,” Dash says, nodding at my mother, and when Barry moves forward and extends his hand, he and Dash shake on the greeting.

  “How the hell are you here?” Barry asks, his hands settling on his hips.

  “I convinced Allie I had to have some of those waffles,” Dash replies, always the charmer, and now is no different. “I’ve been hearing about them from Allie.”

  I round the island and hug my mother and she whispers, “Oh my God. He’s so good-looking.”

  I laugh and whisper back, “Yes. Yes, he is.”

  Mom and I break apart and Dash rubs his hands together. “What can I do to help?”

  “Tell me what happens next,” Barry says. “That’s what you can do.”

  From there, there is laughter, food, and conversation. Eventually, we’re all sitting around the island, chowing down on waffles, and drinking coffee. It’s a bit surreal. At present, Dash is talking to Barry and my mother, answering questions that flow left and right, and I just watch him. He’s good with them. Actually, he seems to get along with everyone. No, seems is not accurate. He does get along with everyone oh so well, except Tyler. But I’ve seen a darker side to the man, a tormented part of Dash Black, the part he hides behind easy conversation and what I think might be practiced humor. There’s a part of him that doesn’t just hurt. It bleeds.

  He must sense me watching him because his gaze lifts and meets mine, a question in his eyes. I smile a soft smile and mouth, “Thank you.”

  He winks and my stomach flutters. I’m falling for this man. I’m falling hard and I don’t know if I can stop it from happening. I don’t know if I even want to try.

  An hour later, I know it’s time to go. “Dash has a deadline,” I announce. “I need to get him back to work.”

  Dash slides his arm around me and says, “My little cupcake here is a slave driver.”

  He did it. He called me cupcake. And my mother’s smile is instant and glowing.

  A good fifteen minutes later, Dash and I settle into his car and I glance over at him. “You called me cupcake.”

  “I just couldn’t resist.”

  “Do you know the questions I now have to answer?”

  “She’s smiling. That’s what matters.” His voice sobers, turns serious. “She’s good, Allie. Your mom is good. You can relax.”

  My belly tenses. “I know. In my mind, I know.” My hand balls at my chest. “Here, not so much.”

  “It’ll happen.” He rotates in his seat toward me. “Listen, baby, I have to fly out to LA tomorrow to deal with an investment turned to shit. I’ll be gone at least a few days if not most of the week. Stay with me again tonight. I’ll drop you at work on my way to the airport.”

  He’s leaving.

  This news takes me by surprise and I’m not sure why. He has a life outside his apartment and me. “I better not. You need to work and so do I. And I have nothing to wear tomorrow at your place.”

  “I had one of my best writing days in months with you by my side yesterday so the ‘need to work’ protest fails. And we can swing back by your place and get you some clothes.” He catches my hand. “Come on, cupcake. Stay with me.”

  For some reason, for an obvious reason really, his trip out of town reminds me that it will be me leaving soon, and all of this is just temporary. I could reject him for that reason or I can choose to enjoy him while I can. No regrets, I think. That’s one of the words of advice my mother gave me when she was handed her diagnosis. Live without regrets, Allie. I have regrets. Many regrets. Staying home tonight isn’t going to be one of them.

  CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR

  “I’ll take a look at your car while you pack,” Dash offers, once we’re inside my garage.

  “Thanks,” I say, “but I’m not expecting good news. It’s old and it’s been sitting at my mom’s place for years.”

  “Don’t be doom and gloom, just yet,” he says, lifting the hood. “Go pack. I got this.”

  I hurry inside and head to the bedroom, picking out an outfit for work tomorrow, and filling an overnight bag. The necklace is in my nightstand and I decide to show it to Dash. I stuff it in my bag and head to the kitchen. Dash is just headed back inside.

  “That was fast. Is that good or bad?”

  “It’s not good,” he says. “I think you have engine trouble. I pushed it to the driveway so I can have it towed to a mechanic friend of mine.”

  “I really appreciate that, but I’m not sure it’s worth the money.”

  “He won’t charge me to look at it. We can talk about what to do about it when I hear back from him. And you can drop me at the airport tomorrow and use my car this week.”

  “What? No. I’m not driving your fancy sports car. It’s brand new.”

  “It’s just a car, baby. I don’t mind and at least it’s safe.”

  “I’m safe. It’s not. I’m not doing that. I’ll get a rental.”

  He steps in front of me and cups my face. “Use my car, Allie. I want you to.”

  “No. Dash, no.”

  “We’ll fight about it at my place when we can argue naked.”

  “I’ll lose that argument.”

  His lips curve. “That’s the point.” He kisses me hard and fast and says, “All ready?”

  I give up the battle for now and let him change the subject, but only because now seems as good a time as any to show him the necklace. “I am, but I want to show you something first. You never asked how I ended up at Hawk Legal and it’s kind of a strange story.”

  He leans on the island beside me. “Strange how?”

  “I was doing a temp job at the Frist Art Museum just to plump up my diminishing savings account and a delivery arrived for Allison W. We all assumed that was me.”

  “But it was the other Allison.”

  “Yes. Exactly. Easy to explain since we worked a few blocks apart. But I want you to see what it is.” I unzip the bag I’ve set on the counter and pull out the velvet box. “It’s a highly personal gift that came with a note just as personal.” I open the lid and display the stunning necklace. “It’s expensive and the card, well you can re
ad it.” I pull the card from my bag and show it to him.

  Dash accepts the card from me and reads it out loud, “Forgive me.” He frowns. “And no name.”

  “No,” I say. “I guess the person assumed she’d know who it’s from, but most people would still sign their name as a personal gesture. It’s weird and so was her rapid departure. I know it’s probably crazy, but I’m a little worried about her. And I don’t know what to do with the necklace. It’s a personal gift, and telling anyone about it at the office feels wrong.”

  He glances at the necklace. “It looks expensive. Is there a brand?”

  “Nothing on the necklace or the box,” I say, “but I’ve developed an eye for expensive at Riptide. I agree. It’s valuable.” I hesitate. “You said her and Tyler were a thing. Could it be from him?”

  “Was the delivery meant to be received at Hawk Legal?” he asks.

  “Yes. That was the address on the delivery.”

  “Then no. Despite how contrary this sounds, considering his personal relationship with Allison, Tyler doesn’t like his personal life to touch his professional life.”

  “Which is my impression of Tyler, it is, but as you just said, she was an exception to his norm. Maybe he thought he’d convince her not to leave.” I frown. “No. That makes no sense. She’d been gone weeks by the time I received the necklace. Though I do believe the necklace arrived at the museum and got stuffed somewhere before it made it to me.”

  “Have you tried to call her?”

  “Yes. I did. And I texted her, too, and received no answer. Though I did make it a business call. Maybe I should just leave a message about the necklace?”

  “I don’t see why not.”

  “And maybe Tyler can get in touch with her? And if I talk to him, do I tell him about the necklace? If it’s not from him, that’s also a bit of an invasion of her privacy, right?”

  “You could probably go to HR, but then again, that would probably still end up with either Tyler, or one of his parents, which means it still ends up with Tyler. Ask him to call her over the auction.”

  “Yes. I’ll try that. She literally went on vacation right before she took leave, too. It’s all strange and not returning calls—I mean I guess I of all people can understand a personal leave, but I still talk to my employer. I’m still aiding their success.”

  “She was living here and moved,” he says. “It’s quite possible she left and isn’t coming back.”

  “I feel a little guilty over the appeal I find in her leaving my temporary job behind. I guess there’s a part of me that just wants to stay close to my mom, when I know that’s insanity. My job really is a dream job. And if my mother thought for one minute I stayed for her, she’d be upset.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with putting family first,” he says. “I’m here because Bella is here.” He catches my hand and walks me to him. “And I’m fairly certain your mother will think you stayed for me, cupcake.” There’s warmth in his voice and eyes and I’m both confused and terrifyingly pleased he’s even touched this territory.

  “Because you just had to call me cupcake. You knew what that would do.”

  “Yes,” he says. “I did. And I plan to keep calling you cupcake while eating as many of those waffles as she’ll make me.”

  This seems like a good time to remind him that neither of us does the whole forever thing, but I don’t. And I tell myself it’s because a nickname and a few waffles do not make a forever relationship.

  CHAPTER FIFTY-FIVE

  Half an hour after leaving Dash at the airport, I pull into the parking garage of the Hawk Legal building and exit the car. It’s a warm day, much warmer than the days before this one, which is good since I still don’t have my coat. Another fancy sports car pulls in next to me but I don’t wait to compare engines. I’m just glad the one I’m driving has one. I hurry to the building, and the impatient side of me that doesn’t want to wait on the slow-ass elevator, decides to take the stairs to the lobby. A few minutes later, I’m on another elevator and headed to my floor.

  I’m still early enough to beat the receptionist filling in for Katie and I settle behind my desk. I’ve been working a few minutes when Katie walks into my office and sets a cup on my desk. “I thought you might like that. How did the party go Friday night?”

  “It was—interesting. I did get some donation promises so we’ll see if they come through.”

  The phone on my desk buzzes. “My office, Ms. Wright.”

  The formal command comes from none other than Tyler. I punch the reply button, “On my way, boss.”

  I release the button and Katie’s eyes go wide. “What was that?”

  “We had a little issue Friday night.” I stand up. “You should probably wish me luck.”

  She pushes to her feet. “Please tell me you’re not about to leave.”

  “I’ll work on the auction until it’s done,” I say, avoiding a more direct reply. “I’ll check-in with you after the meeting.” I head to the door and leave her gaping after me.

  Nerves erupt in my belly, but my backbone is stiff. Dash is right. I don’t need this job. My savings balance would like me to keep it, but it’s not necessary. The truth is, staying here until January isn’t even necessary either. I just want to stay. I cross the lobby and the elevator bank to enter Tyler’s own lobby. This time there’s a pretty blonde behind the desk who I assume to be his assistant.

  “You must be Allison,” she says. “Go on back.”

  I nod and do just that, marching to Tyler’s office. The door is open and I walk inside. His gaze lifts and he drops his pen. “Come in and shut the door.”

  I inhale and do as he says, shutting the door, and crossing to sit in a chair across from him.

  “Nice car you rode in with this morning, Ms. Wright. It looks a bit like the one my client Dash Black drives. You are aware that we have a strict policy against dating clients?”

  I refuse to be rattled. I didn’t read that in the paperwork and I actually did read the documents. “My personal life is my personal life. Which is why my father showing up at your business event wasn’t expected.”

  “He’s been told to stand down.”

  I laugh and not with humor. “And you think my father will listen?”

  “I told you—”

  “You’re Tyler Hawk, god of all rich and powerful people?”

  A muscle in his jaw tics. “I told him to stand down. I suggest you do the same.”

  He’s right, I know. He’s my boss. He deserves respect. I draw in a breath and say, “I’m sorry. It’s bad between us and the bad is recent. And he’s a manipulator. You have to see that.”

  “I do,” he agrees. “And for the record, I had no idea who you were when I hired you. I hired you, not your father.”

  My anger is instantly deflated. “Thank you for saying that.”

  “It’s the truth. As I told you, I am a great many things, Ms. Wright. One of them is not a liar.”

  “Look,” I say, “I know this all exploded and badly, but I do want to do this job. I’m making progress and excited about the outlook. I want you to know that.”

  “And if it does, and you so desire, the job, and perhaps even the house, could be yours long term.”

  “Because you don’t think Allison is coming back?”

  “Because you can make your own path and establish your own worth.”

  “But she’ll want the house back.”

  “Are you saying you want to stay?”

  “I don’t know what I want right now.”

  He studies me a long moment and leans closer. “That’s a dangerous place to be when you’re playing in someone else’s playground.”

  I don’t have to ask whose playground he’s talking about. “Is that what happened to Allison?”

  He goes ramrod still, seconds ticking by before he eases back into his leather chair. “What do you want to know, Ms. Wright?”

  “I’m a little worried about her. She won’t return m
y or Katie’s calls. And I have something of hers I think she might want.”

  His eyes narrow. “What would that be?”

  “It’s highly personal. Can you try to reach her for me?”

  A beat passes before he says, “I’ll see what I can do.”

  “Thank you.” I stand and head to the door.

  “Ms. Wright,” he says, as my hand touches the knob.

  I turn to face him. “That playground is a minefield. There’s more to Dash Black than meets the eye.”

  He’s not wrong, of course. I’ve seen the shadows in Dash’s eyes, I’ve felt the wall between us at times, but I’ve simply passed the point of no return. I’m swimming in the dark water of Dash Black’s life, most likely water filled with dangers, but my own life isn’t exactly a crystal clear, blue perfect ocean, as proven by my father showing up Friday night.

  Which is exactly why I don’t comment on Tyler’s warning. I turn and find my coat on the hanger of his door, which somehow feels as personal as this conversation, which is a bit too personal for my comfort. I grab my coat and leave his office.

  CHAPTER FIFTY-SIX

  My mother calls me almost the minute I’m at my desk and of course, she wants to talk about Dash. “I need to know what is happening with you and that gorgeous man.”

  Just like that, my irritation over everything that happened with Tyler and my father ticks down a notch with the smile in her voice.

  “He is gorgeous, isn’t he?” I ask.

  “We were very surprised by his visit. And that cupcake nickname, honey. It’s adorable.”

  Adorable. She just had to use that word. “Don’t read into it, Mom. It’s new and I go back to New York in January.”

  “Unless you don’t,” she says. “I vote that you stay here and marry Dash Black.”

  I face-palm and navigate her questions about me and Dash for about ten solid minutes, which is still easier than talking to her about my father. She doesn’t need to know he’s in town. It won’t do anything but upset her. When we finally hang up, I type a text to Dash: My mother called. She loves the way you call me cupcake.