Unwritten

by Kiki Hamilton

  He shouted out the door after me, “You’ll love me again one day, Lex, I promise.”

  OVER MY DEAD body. I paced from one side of my room to the other. Thump-step, thump-step, thump-step. Turn. I was trapped. I couldn’t take one more conversation about me and Ryan or the expanded status of the West family. There was one more week before I got my casts off, which meant I was basically house-bound until someone took mercy on me and drove me somewhere. Unless I went rogue and took the spare car, a little Toyota 4Runner.

  I was already in the garage when my phone rang. It was a New York number I didn’t recognize.

  “Hello?”

  “Alexis?”

  My heart sprang from my chest to my feet and back up into my throat like I was bouncing it in preparation to make a free throw. I’d recognize that voice anywhere.

  “Yes?”

  “It’s Oliver Beckett. I thought I’d check and see if you’d broken anything else since the T-ball game.”

  Beckett. My heart ricocheted from side to side in my chest. A perfect last name. An English movie star name. I swallowed my heart and played it cool.

  “Sorry to disappoint you. Nothing new to report.”

  He chuckled. “Good to know. What are you doing?”

  “I’m in the middle of a jail-break.”

  There was a hiccup of silence as he processed my sarcasm. “Where are you headed?”

  “Nowhere. Anywhere. Just out of here.” I spoke with conviction.

  “Can I meet you?”

  I blinked. Keep cool, Lexie. “Sure. You know the Starbucks on Harrison?”

  “I can find it.”

  “I’ll be there in twenty.”

  “Perfect. And Alexis—”

  I held my breath, knowing Beauty was going to change his mind.

  “Don’t wreck the getaway car, okay? We might need it later.”

  That was when the butterflies stormed my stomach like a flock of seagulls going after bread in a parking lot.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Let me explain why I asked Alexis to coffee. It was a crazy idea, but not so crazy I wanted to change my mind. She was a friend and God knows I needed a break from work and the hospital and the dreaded dinner that I was doomed to suffer with Estelle.

  FIFTEEN MINUTES LATER I was parked at the Starbucks. I wasn’t sure if Alexis had arrived yet. I slid out of the car and headed toward the door and spotted her sitting by the window. She smiled and I knew I’d made the right decision.

  “SO YOU ESCAPED, and are still in one piece. Things are looking up.” I slid into the seat across from her. “When do you get your cast off?”

  “Next week, and not a second too soon.”

  Her hair was pulled up on her head in a messy bun with wavy pieces hanging down making her look soft, somehow. I made a face. “Does it itch?”

  She took a big slurp out of her venti-sized iced coffee drink. “I don’t leave home without a hangar.”

  I laughed. “I broke my arm once when I fell out of a tree. I’ll never forget how bad that sucker itched.” I pointed to her drink. “Can I get you anything else?”

  She shook her head. “No thanks. I’m just happy to be with someone who isn’t my family. Or soon-to-be partners with my family,” she added under her breath.

  “I know the feeling.” I walked over to the counter and ordered an Americano. The fragrant fumes of the coffee rose from the cup as I returned to the table. For some reason the smell made me feel like I was on vacation.

  “So.” She gave me an expectant look. “You never told me why you’re in Seattle. That was a shock to see you at the ball game. I thought maybe I’d conjured you.”

  I raised an eyebrow at her. “Do you conjure people often?”

  She shrugged. “Depends on my mood.”

  I laughed at her quirkiness and thought about changing the subject, which would have been my normal tactic to deflect attention from my personal life, but I didn’t. “My father had a heart attack and is in the hospital.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry.” Her brow wrinkled with concern. “How’s he doing?”

  “He’s scheduled for surgery in a few days and we’re all expecting the best.” I drummed my fingers on the table. “So that’s why I’m here. I’m helping with his caseload while he recovers and then for a while after he moves back to the house.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “Wait a minute. Your family law firm is in Seattle?”

  “We have two branches—Seattle and New York. In New York, we’re part of a larger firm. In Seattle, it’s just our family.” I tasted my Americano, hoping the hot coffee wouldn’t burn a path all the way to my stomach.

  “Didn’t I tell you I was from Seattle?” She scrunched her brow as she tried to remember. “In the cab before the accident I said I was flying home to Seattle. Why didn’t you…”

  “You didn’t ask.”

  “But you told me you were flying somewhere….” Her gaze drifted as she tried to extract the memory.

  “Paris.”

  She snapped her fingers and pointed. “That’s it. You were going to Paris, but the snow storm was going to delay you and then we had the accident.” She stopped.

  “What?”

  “Did you miss your trip to Paris because of me?”

  “Having our cab get totaled did have a little something to do with my delay.” I laughed and leaned back in my chair, enjoying myself. “But don’t worry. I made it to Paris.” I tried not to think of how anxious I’d been to leave Paris.

  “Oh, good.” Alexis brightened and sipped her drink. “I hate to feel guilty. So tell me why you need a getaway car too.”

  TIME FLEW BY as I surprised myself by telling her about my dysfunctional family and how I’d escaped to New York for the last five years.

  “You went looking for normal, too, huh?” She wore a knowing expression.

  I paused. “I’ve never thought of it that way, but maybe you’re right. Do you think it exists?”

  She shrugged. “Don’t ask me.”

  I studied her face. The bump on her head from the ball had left only a fading bruise to mark the spot. I wondered how she could understand things about me so easily, when I could barely figure them out. “So, how’s your writing going? Have you started something new?”

  She dropped her gaze and wouldn’t look at me. “Not very good,” she said. “I’m afraid I don’t have another book in me. I just stare at the page and if I do write something, I delete it the next day.” She looked miserable. “I don’t know. Maybe I’m not meant to be a writer.”

  “Don’t talk like that. Instead of measuring your progress on a daily basis, why don’t you set a long-term goal—like have a first draft done by the end of the year? That gives you lots of time. Just work a little every day. You might be surprised at what you accomplish.”

  She eyed me over her drink. “That’s a good idea, O Wise One. What about you? Have you been painting?”

  I was surprised she remembered. She’d been on a lot of drugs in the hospital. “No.” I shook my head. “I work a lot. Besides, that was a dream from a long time ago. I don’t even know why I told you.”

  “Because it’s still your dream, Oliver,” she said in a matter-of-fact voice, “and it will haunt you until you do something about it.”

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Nobody was around when I came home. Jessie was working at the store. If mom or dad knew I took the car, they must have decided to ignore it. I hung the keys on the hook by the back door and went straight to my room. I needed to be alone to process my afternoon. To process Oliver Beckett.

  I shut my bedroom door and fell backwards onto my bed, my arms spread wide. Oliver Beckett. Even his name was perfect. There was something about him that filled me up in a way I’d never felt before. I knew better than to let myself think there might be a chance he would have an interest in me. Because men like Oliver went out with women like the Beast. Simone Bouchard. Chanel’s supermodel.

  Tomorrow I would face the r
eality that I’d never see Oliver Beckett again—until then, I was going to savor every minute we’d shared.

  THE NEXT DAY my phone dinged with an incoming text while I was lying on my bed with my laptop trying to write. I rolled over and reached for my purse. I dug through the pockets and finally found my phone in the very bottom as it dinged for a second time.

  The text was from Ryan. Hey Lex, I’m on my way over. Want to get pizza?

  I stared at the screen. Was it possible my Dad was right? That Ryan’s one night of indiscretion—with a lifetime of consequences—had really been a mistake? That he’d gotten drunk and acted without thinking? And perhaps the bigger question: was it even possible to forgive him after the last three years I’d spent loathing him?

  I typed quickly, before I could change my mind. Only if you’re buying.

  I LEFT A note and thump-stepped my way out to Ryan’s car, still questioning my decision. At least this way I wouldn’t sit home and daydream about Oliver and things that would never be.

  Ryan ran around the car and opened my door for me.

  “Don’t go crazy on me, Ry,” I said as I swung a leg into his black Camaro. “I’m still trying to decide if I can stand being in the same car with you or not.”

  “At least that’s progress.”

  “Hi Lexie,” a little voice said from the back seat. I jumped and swiveled to glance in the back. Dylan was tucked into his car seat with a smile on his face. “We’re going to have yum-pizza!”

  It had never occurred to me that Ryan might bring Dylan with him, but now that I thought about it, where else would his little boy be at dinner time?

  “Hi Dylan.” I smiled. “Are you hungry?”

  “Yum-Pizza!” he yelled happily, swinging his little booted feet.

  Ryan slid into the driver’s seat and slammed his door. “Pizza is Dyl’s favorite food.” He looked over at me and smiled. “It’s a big night out to have pizza and have it with a pretty girl.”

  IT WAS JUST after five o’clock when we got to the restaurant so the place wasn’t too busy yet. We found a booth and Ryan and Dylan slid in one side and I slid in the other. Ryan pulled a coloring book and some crayons out of a black backpack he carried and put them in front of Dylan.

  “Let’s see what you can do with that.” Dylan grabbed the crayons and began coloring.

  I raised my eyebrows. “Wow. I’m impressed. You really are super-dad.” To my surprise, Ryan looked embarrassed.

  “Nah. It just makes life easier to come prepared.” He ruffled the top of Dylan’s hair. “He’s just a little guy. He needs something to keep him entertained—” Ryan looked up at me— “and that way you and I might actually be able to have a conversation.”

  I wasn’t sure what to think. This was an entirely new side of Ryan that I’d never seen or even imagined before. Unsettled, I picked up the plastic coated menu and perused the variety of pizza offered, though I already knew I’d choose the vegetarian.

  The waitress, a pretty red-head who looked like she was still in high school, approached the table. She was wearing a red and white checked apron and spoke to Dylan and Ryan as if they were regulars. She couldn’t hide her curiosity as she stared at me. “The usual?”

  Ryan looked over at me. “What do you want, Lex?”

  We ordered and the waitress disappeared.

  “Thanks for coming with us tonight.” Ryan leaned back, one armed stretched along the seat back behind Dylan that somehow seemed protective. “It’s great to see you again, though—” he nodded in my direction— “it’s too bad it took a busted arm and leg to get you home.”

  “I had nothing better to do on a Thursday night.” I shrugged. “And I was hungry. What girl says no to free food?”

  Ryan tilted his head back and laughed, surprising me. “That’s a relief.”

  “What?”

  “Your sarcasm. Now I know things are going to be okay between us.”

  “Hmpff.” I looked across the restaurant, checking out who else was here. It was a little unsettling that after all this time Ryan still knew me well enough to recognize my moods. I’d barely decided I might forgive him—how could he possible know already?

  He crossed his arms on the table and leaned toward me, talking in a low, mature voice I wasn’t used to. “Part of the reason I wanted you to come out tonight was to tell you how grateful I am to your family for letting me be part of the store.”

  My eyes darted back to his face.

  “It’s been a rough few years, Lex—more than you can probably ever imagine—and your mom and dad, especially your dad, have really been there for me. Even when my mom wasn’t.” Some emotion I couldn’t define crossed his face. “I just want you to know, that I won’t ever let your old man down. I know what a big deal it is to take a partner on in the family business and I’m going to work my ass off to do a good job. Okay?” His eyes were locked on my face. “I’m not ever going to let him down so you don’t ever have to worry about that.”

  More than one flippant comment zinged through my head but I spoke from my heart. “I hope so, Ryan, for everybody’s sake. That store has been in our family since my great-grandpa started it. It would break my dad’s heart to lose it.”

  “I know, Lex.”

  My phone rang.

  I dug through my purse and pulled out my cell, expecting my mom or dad. They were the only ones who actually called me—everybody else texted. But it was a New York number I recognized this time.

  “Hello?”

  “Alexis?” Oliver’s voice was smooth like silk. “I enjoyed our coffee yesterday. I don’t know a lot of people in Seattle anymore and I was wondering—are you free this Saturday?”

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  I didn’t know what it was about Alexis but I found I couldn’t stop thinking of her. When I was away from her I would convince myself I was imagining how drawn I was to her—that my reaction was simply a counterbalance to my relationship with Simone. Yet, when I spent time with Alexis, I didn’t want it to end. She intrigued me with her humor and her quirky insights.

  I finally decided the best thing was to spend an entire day with her so I could confirm I had no interest in her. Saturday we would hang out, I would get bored, and then I could stop thinking about her. Simple.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  It was only two days until Saturday but they were the longest two days of my life. To my surprise, Oliver came to the house that afternoon and picked me up. By the time I got down the stairs my dad had answered the door and invited him in.

  “So, you’re an attorney in New York?” Dad’s deep voice was easy to hear as I hopped down the stairs and I wondered at his tone. He sounded much more formal and guarded than normal. I hurried around the corner and my breath caught. So far, I’d only seen Oliver in expensive business suits, looking like a cover model for GQ. Instead, he was wearing faded Levi’s with a black sweater covered by a black leather jacket. His face was shaded with a day’s worth of dark stubble that highlighted the angles of his cheekbones and jaw, making him look sexy and dangerous at the same time. Oh my. I found myself as intrigued with this new Oliver as I had been with New York Oliver.

  I sensed my father’s curiosity could be problematic so I hurried Oliver out the door. “Gotta go. See you later, Dad.”

  Oliver led the way along the curving path from our front door to the driveway. “So, where are we going?” I asked as I looked down at my feet, practicing walking with an even gait. I glanced up when he didn’t respond and stopped in my tracks. “What’s that?”

  Oliver glanced back over his shoulder as he opened the passenger door for me. “It’s your chariot, of course.”

  A sleek, black Porsche Carrera was parked in our driveway. It looked fast even when it was stopped. I’d never even touched a car like that, let alone driven in one. “Is that yours?” I squeaked.

  “No, it’s my dad’s. He calls it his Midlife Crisis. Get in.”

  I slid onto the black leather seat and inhale
d. The car even smelled expensive—like rich leather and money. Oliver slid into the other side and grinned at me. “Not bad, eh?” He turned the key and the engine purred like a lethal cat. He slid the gear shift into reverse and we glided out of the driveway.

  “Yes.” I said, hoping my face didn’t reveal my churning emotions. I was in love and not just with the car. “I think this should do nicely.”

  He hit the accelerator and shifted gears so fast I barely saw his hand move. I blinked and we were going sixty. I let out a shriek and Oliver laughed—a joyful sound I hadn’t heard from him before. “Don’t forget to buckle up.”

  WE DROVE FROM Mercer Island over to Fremont. Oliver was relaxed as he drove, clearly enjoying the speed and smooth handling the car offered. Like when I was in the hospital and he had stayed with me, we chatted easily with no awkward silences. Though part of me wondered where Simone was and the status of his relationship with her—I’d promised myself I wouldn’t bring her up.

  We talked about the amazing engineering of floating bridges as we drove toward downtown. He pointed as we passed the University of Washington where four cranes towered above the rest of the buildings like the playthings of giants.

  “So, is that your alma mater?”

  “Yep,” I nodded as I gazed out the window, “it’s true. I was a Husky.”

  “Is that where you met Ryan?”

  I hesitated, surprised by the question. “No. I met Ryan in high school.”

  “Ah.” Oliver spoke with sudden understanding. “Did he go to the U with you, too?”

  I tried not to squirm in my luxury leather seat. “Yes, but I didn’t see much of him the last two years.” I looked out the window—as if the lack of eye contact might somehow protect me—and felt more than saw Oliver’s head swing toward me with a questioning glance.