Heads nodding. Spark growing. Tension mounting. She looked around the room at the faces staring at her. Some with interest. Some with boredom. Some with animosity. For a second, as her eyes fell on Stu, she thought of the way he’d hurt her over the years, using her up until there wasn’t much left. And here she was, standing there doing exactly what he wanted. Saving his company. Again. She told herself not to go there. This wasn’t about Stu. This was about her and the start of her new life and living it on her terms.
She wished Ryan were here with her now. For support. For encouragement. Whether he’d realized it or not, he’d given her those things. He’d shown her the path she wanted to take, and for that, she’d always be grateful, even if she missed what might have been.
A throat cleared. Stu’s eyes narrowed.
She turned back to her briefcase, reached inside and pulled out the last sketch.
“Last spot. Now the boy is a man, and our adorable little fur ball is a very old dog. The dog is lying on a blanket in the same backyard, a baby in a playpen next to him. Pan to the same kitchen door. This time our boy, all grown up, comes out the door, a bag of Costas Chips in his hand. He sits on the blanket next to the dog, tells him what a good boy he is, opens the bag and gives the dog a chip.” She stared at the sketch, at an aging Riley, with a lump in her throat. “What you have just seen through these three commercials is a snapshot of a boy and his dog, their journey together, and how Costas Chips has been a part of their lives.”
Nods. Interest. Looks of admiration. Encouragement.
“This is the heart of the campaign. This campaign is not about a bag of chips, a snack food—do we pick this one or that? It’s a food item that’s a part of our lives. Something that brings us joy and helps us connect with each other. I truly believe this campaign of family and friendship will show the viewers exactly that. They will watch this journey of a boy and his dog, and they will connect. And they will remember the brand—Costas Chips.”
She finished and stood still, waiting. The silence in the room was deafening. And then the applause started—loud and long.
“I love it,” Mr. Costas said.
Smiles erupted around the room. From everyone except her. She loaded up her pictures as everyone stood, patting each other on the backs, congratulating one another. And then, without another glance, she left the room.
“Carrie, wait,” Stu said, hurrying out the door after her.
She stopped.
“That was incredible. Your best work yet.”
His hand on her back burned. “Thanks.”
“Where are you going? Don’t you want to meet everyone?”
“No, I’m going home. I’ll leave everything I have on the campaign with the receptionist up front. I don’t want to have anything to do with you or Steinhem. I’m done. Don’t call me again.” She’d done it. She’d cut him loose and felt good doing it. The weight slipped off her; this was the right move. The knot of tension that had been her constant companion was gone and she felt…happy.
She turned to walk away, but he grabbed her arm, stopping her.
“Wait. Is this about Ryan?”
“Yes,” she answered honestly. “I really liked him, and you chased him away. But more than that, this is about me and doing what I love to do. I love to paint. I want to work on my own schedule. I want to create for myself. I don’t want a life of jumping at the commands of other people. It’s time I lived for myself. “
Stu glowered. “First of all, I didn’t chase Ryan away. He left. He took the coward’s way out. And secondly, do you even know what makes you happy?”
Was that condescension in the tone? She stood tall and smiled. “I’m not sure, but to be honest, I can’t wait to find out. I’m going to trust my heart. It knows what it wants. All I need to do is listen to it.”
He glared at her then sighed. He pulled her into his arms. She stiffened at first, but gradually she loosened up. “Thank you for everything you did for me today,” he said softly, and she knew he meant it.
“You can thank me by making sure Burton Consulting gets credit for this win. Ryan deserves it. Some of these ideas were his.”
“Then where is he?”
“You told him to leave.”
“He didn’t try to stay.”
His words hurt her more than she wanted to admit. “Just do it, Stu.”
“Does it mean that much to you?”
“Yes,” she answered truthfully.
“All right.”
“Thank you. And please don’t call me again. At least not for a while.”
He nodded. “I hope you find what you’re looking for.”
“I’ll see you around, Stu.” She turned and walked out the door.
Chapter Eighteen
Carrie woke up feeling like she hadn’t slept a wink. She rolled over and splayed her fingertips against the wall, wishing Ryan were on the other side. That he’d been there to see her presentation, to celebrate their win. But he wasn’t. Stu was right, damn him. Ryan didn’t fight for her. For them. He’d turned tail and ran. A tear slipped down her cheek. Knowing it was useless to try and go back to sleep, she got up. It was time to stop feeling sorry for herself. Life was good. She was happy. She was finding herself, right?
She showered and dressed then went into the other room. Naomi and Phoebe would be there soon. They were coming over to work on plans for Naomi’s wedding. A fun distraction with the girls was exactly what she needed. She would have fun, and she’d stop feeling sorry for herself. She uncorked the champagne and brought it to the table along with the orange juice and a tray of fruit and cheese when the doorbell rang.
Naomi and Phoebe, caught in the sudden downpour, stood shivering on the front porch.
“Good morning,” Carrie said brightly as she opened the door. “Here, have a towel.”
“Well, aren’t you the chipper one?” Naomi said, taking the towel from her grasp.
“I’m happy to see you,” Carrie said.
“Why?” Naomi asked, piling into the room with a big bag of soggy wedding goodies.
Carrie frowned. Someone was grumpy. “Why? Because it beats sitting here alone.”
Naomi laughed. “Thanks.” She handed the towel to Phoebe, who looked to be in much better spirits.
“I heard you knocked the Costas campaign out of the park,” Phoebe said, drying her head and then handing her back the towel. “Ooh, champagne.” She made a beeline for the table.
Carrie grinned. “I wasn’t half bad.”
“So,” she pressed.
“So,” Carrie repeated.
“Tell us about Ryan.” Phoebe filled all three glasses with mimosas and handed one to each of them.
“Not much to tell,” Carrie said, taking a deep sip, annoyed that the sound of his name brought a deep ache to her chest.
Naomi smirked. “From the expression on your face, I doubt that.”
Carrie grimaced. “It was good. Real good. While it lasted. But now it’s over.”
“Just tell me one thing,” Naomi asked.
Carrie looked up at her.
“Did you find your bliss?”
Carrie smiled. “That and then some.”
“Cheers to that,” Naomi said, and they all clinked glasses.
“Sorry it didn’t work out.” Phoebe put her arm around Carrie’s shoulders and gave her a big squeeze.
“It’s all right. I’ll be fine.”
“Of course you will,” Phoebe said as she walked around the small duplex, looking at all her artwork. “Are all these paintings and sketches of the same dog?”
“Yep. That’s Ryan’s dog, Riley. I miss him more than you can imagine. There are more in my studio.”
“You’re kidding!” Naomi blurted. “The dog?”
“Yes,” Carrie said. “You should have seen him. He was amazing. So beautiful, and exuberant. And such a good dog, he could even sing.” And then she started to cry. She didn’t know where the tears came from. They shot up out of nowh
ere and took over her body. Mortified, she dropped down onto the sofa and covered her face with her hands.
“What are you doing?” Naomi demanded, sitting next to her and slipping an arm around her shoulders. “You don’t cry.”
“I know.” Carrie sniffled. “I miss him so much.”
“Ryan or the dog?” Phoebe asked, and Naomi shot her a look.
“Yes,” Carrie answered.
“I’m guessing it’s the dog and the man,” Naomi said.
“So why are you here? Go after him.” Phoebe plopped down onto the couch next to them. “Tell me where they are, and I’ll book your ticket.”
“I can’t,” Carrie moaned, and sniffled loudly.
“Why the hell not?” Naomi demanded.
“Because he left. He didn’t even stay and fight. He ran, like a coward, and didn’t look back.”
They all sat in silence a moment, drinking their mimosas. “Then he doesn’t deserve you,” Naomi said.
“Yeah,” Phoebe agreed and handed her a tissue. “He doesn’t deserve you.”
…
Ryan walked into the living room of his family home, sat in a chair, and laced up his running shoes. His dad was sitting at the table, staring out a large picture window overlooking the Pacific, coffee by his side and newspaper in his hand.
“I’m going to head out after my run,” Ryan said.
“You’re leaving already?” his dad asked, surprised.
“Yeah, I thought I’d drive to Seattle instead of fly. Give me some time to think.”
“That will give you a lot of time,” his dad said. “You must have a lot to think about. Are you sure I can’t convince you to stay and work by my side?”
“Celeste is here to help you, and I’ll be back for good as soon as this next job is over. I need a little more time before settling into a management position.” He felt bad that she was having so many problems with Renaldo, but the fact that she was back was a godsend for him.
“It’s not as bad as you think it is, son. And at this time in your life, settling down might not be such a bad thing.”
“Now you’re beginning to sound like Celeste.”
“Brilliant minds do think alike.”
Ryan sighed. Truth was, he didn’t know if it was time to settle down, but he didn’t want to get into it all with his dad. Not when he didn’t understand himself what it was he wanted. But he did know he wanted more than what he had—more than short term jobs and moving from one city to the next. Before Carrie, he was happy with that, but not anymore. Maybe he needed time to get over her. He hoped that was all he needed.
His dad’s gaze drifted over his shoulder, eyebrows raised. Ryan turned to see what his father was looking at and saw a painting of him and Riley sitting on the buffet table. A large red bow sagged from the middle.
He froze as a lump formed in his throat. “Where did that come from?”
“It was delivered this morning, along with a congratulatory note for winning the Costas account. I looked over the presentation. I have to say, that boy and his dog campaign was pure brilliance.”
Ryan stood flummoxed. “A boy and his dog? I don’t know what you’re talking about. I wasn’t there for the presentation. And we certainly didn’t get the win. Stu fired me.”
“That may be, but Burton Consulting did get credit for it. I suggest whatever happened in San Francisco, you accept the win and move forward. We have a reputation to uphold.”
Ryan couldn’t take his eyes off the painting. Carrie had captured him and Riley so well. It was like she’d been able to see right inside him. He could easily picture her sitting at her easel, determination in her jaw, paintbrush in her hand. He wished he could see her now. The thought brought a deep ache to his chest. He cared about her. A lot. Too much. He wasn’t sure how to handle himself around her. When he’d walked into her house and saw her with Stu, he’d lost it. He didn’t want to go there again. To open himself up like that. To take that risk.
“Move on,” he muttered. He had to move on. Ever since he’d left San Francisco he couldn’t sleep, all he thought about was her.
“Unless,” his dad started, and Ryan turned to him. “Unless you want to go after her,” his dad finished.
“Her?” Ryan questioned, playing dumb.
“The woman who has you tied up in knots.”
“I’d like to know the answer to that,” Celeste said, walking into the room, coffee cup in hand. She and Renaldo were having ‘difficulties,’ as she put it, so she was back. All Ryan knew was that if Celeste couldn’t make a relationship work, he wasn’t even going to try.
“There’s no need,” Ryan said. “I’m not going back to San Francisco and long distance relationships never work.” He looked at his sister for confirmation.
Celeste frowned. “Who says? Long distance isn’t the issue with me and Renaldo, so don’t even go there. Obviously, whoever this woman is—she gets you, Ryan. That isn’t easy to find.”
He didn’t say anything.
She frowned. “You’re an idiot. Look at that painting. She sees the best in you. And I for one haven’t seen that smile on your face in a very long time.”
Riley whined next to him.
“Even Riley knows better than you,” Celeste added. “He’s been moping around all week. He didn’t even care about seeing me!”
Ryan looked at his dad, at his sister, and then at Riley, who was peering up at him with expectation thick in his eyes. “You’re all ganging up on me.”
Celeste grinned. “We don’t want you to be an idiot.”
“Or a coward,” his dad added gently.
He remembered Carrie’s hurtful accusation, flung at him from behind closed doors. Shocked, Ryan stared at his dad. “I am not a coward or an idiot. I don’t want complications in my life, and Carrie is a huge complication.” With her, he never seemed to get it right. There was no reason to put either one of them through that again.
“Only because you care about her. You’re not used to anyone getting that close. She did and you ran,” Celeste shot back.
He turned his back on the painting. “It’s not that simple.”
“Isn’t it? Think about it. Not everyone will leave, Ryan. You have to put it out there and take a chance that someone will love you enough to stay even when things get tough. But they never will, they never can, if you don’t stick around long enough to make it work.”
The phone rang and his father left to answer it. Not wanting to stick around and take more abuse from his sister, Ryan walked out the door. “Riley and I are going for a run.”
As he ran along the beach, breathing in the cool morning air, his sister’s words haunted him. He knew everyone didn’t leave. Of course, everyone didn’t leave. But he was afraid Carrie would. And she’d given him good cause, hadn’t she? He’d made the right decision, even if he felt like shit.
He pounded forward, barely noticing the pain in his legs, pushing on, determined to be a better runner. He saw a woman in the distance, thin, athletic, hair tied back in a ponytail, and he couldn’t help wishing it were Carrie. He wanted to see her so badly his heart ached with it. So why didn’t he? He could stop in San Francisco on his way to Seattle. He could drop in and surprise her. But what would that accomplish? What if she didn’t want to see him? What if she’d already gone back to Stu?
Then why would she have sent the painting? Was she trying to tell him something?
He stared out at the blue horizon, watching for dolphins and trying not to think about Carrie, about Stu. About how much he hurt. The thought of never seeing her again ate a hole through him, and he felt almost desperate. Had he done this? Has he pushed her away?
Was he a coward?
And it dawned on him: he was. Damn right, he was. Somehow she’d gotten under his skin and he couldn’t get her out. It would serve him right if she went back to Stu. She was his and he let her go. He let his fear of being in a relationship, of giving her all he had only to have her walk out on him, guide his d
ecisions. Yes, he’d been afraid.
He was always afraid.
And he was tired of living that way. So what was he going to do about that now?
Finished with his run, he walked back into the great room. He couldn’t help glancing at his father, who was still staring at the painting. “I’m glad you’re back. Your sister and I have been talking and it seems to me, this woman has put us in a bit of a quandary, son.”
“Us?” Ryan asked. Since when did his love life become a family problem? “How’s that?”
“She won the Costas deal in the name of Burton Consulting.”
“Yes. She didn’t have to do that, but I appreciate the gesture,” Ryan said. Had that been another message? Another way she’d been trying to reach out to him?
“Not enough to pick up the phone and call,” Celeste countered.
Ryan glared at her.
“If it gets out that she doesn’t actually work for us…” his father continued.
“That could be a problem,” Celeste said with a grin.
“You want me to hire her?” Ryan asked incredulously. Boy, these two would stop at nothing to interfere with his life.
His father stood and refilled his cup from the side bar. “It’s up to you, of course, but it seems to me, you better get her on the payroll.”
Celeste nodded. “And fast.”
Ryan could see what they were doing and he was inclined to fight them on it, but the idea had a certain appeal. It might be an in, a way of approaching her. A reason he could at least go see her.
Coward, a voice in his head whispered. And it was true. No more doing things halfway. If he wasn’t ready to take that risk, to go in all the way then he shouldn’t go see her at all.
“I’ll tell you what. Read the presentation and see for yourself,” his dad added, sliding a large envelope toward him. “I think she would make a valuable asset to the team.”
Ryan stared at the envelope. The return address said Stu Steinhem. Had Stu sent this to him? What was he up to now?
Ryan took the envelope and put it in his bag. “I’ll think about it.”
Going All the Way (Kiss the Bride #1) Page 14
