His to Love (Fireside #1)

by Stacey Lynn

  I looked away and I haven’t seen him since.

  I had sat on a wooden bench, watching as piece after piece of evidence piled up against the man who fathered me and the man who had wanted to marry me. My disgust grew with every witness who spoke.

  When I later learned a grand jury had formally indicted him, I wasn’t surprised.

  My father was more of a monster than I could have ever suspected.

  My life had become a flurry of courtroom visits and meetings with attorneys, but after that day, I’d decided I was done with all of it. My father had never once stood by my side, and I would no longer pretend to stand by his.

  Despite the paparazzi and media that followed my every move, Simone allowed me to return to work after things calmed down post-indictment.

  I could have kissed her.

  I might have and just didn’t remember. I was certain that the media fallout would turn her away from me, but so far, she’d been loyal to me and had even brought me on full-time with pay that was more generous than I could have asked for.

  Now, I spent my days going to work, busting my ass to continue to keep DPA the top event planner in the city. At night, I returned to my beautiful apartment, only to open a bottle of wine and spend the few remaining hours alone.

  With the exception of Thursday night—girls’ night out.

  Chelsea, Suzanne, Paige, and Camden had also stood by me, proving that people could be truly genuine. They didn’t pry—often. They had even avoided going to the Fireside Grill because they knew I didn’t want to see Declan or risk running into Tyson. That was, until this particular night.

  They insisted I went with them.

  Based on the string of texts I had received all day long from all four of them, the last one being from Chelsea insisting they would force me there, hog-tied and handcuffed if they had to, I wasn’t getting out of it.

  One Galecki in handcuffs in my lifetime was plenty, thankyouverymuch.

  Me: I’m beginning to think you’re not really friends. Just terrorists in skirts.

  Chelsea: As long as you’re there.

  I sighed and quickly typed out my response that I would meet them at Fireside at seven. I had to get used to the idea of possibly seeing Tyson anyway, and, after three months, the girls were right. It was time to stop wallowing and hiding. It had been three months without a word from him. There was a chance he’d not only moved on by then, but moved away, too. If he was only brought back to Detroit to take down my family, then he had clearly succeeded and he could go back to his real home.

  I’d had one visit with my father in jail where he simply told me that while he’d been brought low, there were enough people in his organization remaining who would ensure that what he had created in Detroit would continue.

  My lip curled in disgust and I walked away.

  I didn’t plan on ever seeing him again.

  Brushing the thought of him out of my mind, I dropped my phone into my purse and began shutting down my computer.

  “Simone,” I called out as I hitched my purse over my shoulder and rounded the corner of my desk. “I’m outta here.”

  “Come here a second,” she replied from deep in her office.

  I found her sitting on the floor by her couch, her lap buried in lookbooks of different floral arrangements. When she saw me, she blew a stray strand of blond hair out of her eyes.

  “You’ve done it,” she said, and my spine stiffened.

  My eyebrows knitted together and I leaned against her doorway. “Done what?”

  Her grin stretched wide. “You’ve landed the governor’s daughter’s wedding account.”

  My eyes bugged out of my head and I walked into her office. “Are you serious?”

  I had feared that when I stayed on with Simone full-time that the messiness surrounding the downfall of the Galecki name would cause blowback for her agency. Apparently, people truly cared enough about my mom to be able to look past it.

  “Yup.” She nodded, set a half dozen thick binders on the floor, and pushed to her feet. “Melinda called me just a few hours ago. Said she got engaged last week and wants you to plan her wedding.”

  “You,” I clarified.

  She shook her head. “Nope. Melinda has been so impressed with you that she insists she doesn’t want anyone else handling her wedding except Gabriella Blue.”

  My lips twitched with a smile at the name. I had legally dropped Galecki from my name, just days after the last visit to my father. Then I mailed him the paperwork to show him I wanted absolutely nothing to do with him again. I almost chose my mother’s maiden name as my new last name, but decided against it.

  “Wow.” I was stunned the governor’s daughter would ask this of Simone. I still wasn’t even a planner…just an assistant. “Have you set up an appointment with her or anything?” I asked, my gears already turning.

  “I have. It’s next week, but before you do that, there are a few other things I need you to handle tomorrow.”

  She headed toward her desk and I followed, sidestepping binders and fabric swatches all over her floor. She was an incredible event planner, but she was also a slob.

  I’d gotten used to it.

  “What’s this?” I asked when she handed me a business card and then an envelope with my name printed on it.

  “That is the number for the hiring agency that will need to find me a new assistant,” she said, and my jaw dropped. “And the envelope has your new salary and benefits package for your new position.”

  I frowned and looked at her. “I don’t understand.”

  “You can’t plan the governor’s daughter’s wedding and be an assistant. You’re now an Associate Event Planner.”

  Tingles slid up my arms and then down my spine as my eyes widened further. “Are you serious?”

  “I am.” She nodded once and walked toward me, her hand wrapping around my arm when she got close. Then she smiled, her light green eyes shining with amusement. “Congratulations on your promotion. Now go home and celebrate.”

  “I can’t believe you’re doing this.”

  “You’ve done an incredible job and you’ve earned it.”

  Her confidence made me smile. “Thank you. For everything, Simone.”

  “I told you the day you walked in here that you got the job because of your dad, but you’d have to work hard to keep it. You’ve exceeded my every expectation and impressed me with the dignity with which you’ve carried yourself for the last few months. You may have been born a Galecki, Gabriella, but you are also wholly and uniquely you. And I’m honored to be not only your boss, but also your friend.”

  I blinked rapidly, the sudden onslaught of emotion catching me by surprise.

  She laughed and tugged me toward the door of the office. “Now get out of here and go celebrate. But not too much, I can’t have my new associate planner showing up for her first day of work with a hangover.”

  I allowed her to lead me out of her office, my smile growing with every step as my shock decreased. And suddenly, a few of the best margaritas in the Detroit area didn’t sound like such a bad thing.

  It sounded wonderful.

  Because along with my new name, I was gaining a new life—with great friends and a wonderful career.

  If only the black hole in my heart caused by losing Tyson would disappear, I’d have everything I had always wanted.

  —

  “Drink.”

  Suzanne pointed to my refilled glass and glared.

  I pressed it to my lips and sipped. Then I flashed her a cocky grin. “Happy now?”

  “I will be when you’re drunk.”

  Around us, the girls laughed while Camden and Chelsea raised their margarita glasses in the air. We’d been celebrating my new position for the last hour. I was on my second margarita and my stomach was stuffed full of nacho chips and queso dip. I was still waiting on my buffalo cheeseburger that I had ordered a little while ago.

  I should have been having a blast.

 
; I was. My cheeks hurt from laughing so much.

  Yet with every sip of a drink, with every laugh, with every glance over my shoulder, I felt nervous.

  Unsettled.

  At any moment, Tyson could walk through those doors.

  That one of his college teammates owned the place made it seem so much more likely than it did at any other restaurant in the area.

  With my back to the bar, I was facing the doors that led to the kitchen. Every time a server moved in and out of the doors, my breath lodged in my throat as I wondered if Tyson would appear in the doorway like he did the first time we came here.

  Conversation around me drifted off. I vaguely heard Chelsea talking about how she had spent much of her summer on vacation. She also spent time landscaping her backyard, which I’d heard was absolutely beautiful. She said after her husband had left her, she made it her mission to make the yard her private oasis. It sounded like she spent hours outside working, planting, and weeding every day. I couldn’t wait to see it someday.

  Camden talked about her job at an accounting firm, while Paige and Suzanne lovingly complained about their husbands and their habit of leaving dirty towels all over the floor and their inability to find anything in the refrigerator.

  Their voices drifted around me while the pain that’d been in my chest for the last three months began to grow and pulse with an emptiness I hadn’t yet experienced. Suzanne and Paige, as much as they bitched about their men, were completely in love and had the one thing I’d always wanted. It wasn’t the first time I had wondered if I should have heard Tyson out during all the weeks he called and texted me.

  My father and Malik had done despicable things and they deserved to be punished for them. I hated them both equally. But I still felt used, knowing Tyson lied to me. And while I understood it was his job and he had to, it didn’t change the fact that it hurt.

  Deeply.

  The kitchen door opened and my back straightened when I saw Declan enter the dining area. I watched every step he took, with a tray in his hand and his eyes on me, until he was unloading all the dishes from his tray and onto our table.

  “Oohh…personal delivery,” Suzanne sang, wiggling her eyebrows. “I could get used to being served like this.”

  “Then train your husband,” Declan drawled as he slid my burger in front of me.

  I snickered at Suzanne but froze when Declan placed his hand on my shoulder. I twisted my neck and looked up at him. Sympathy softened his typically hard features. “I’m sorry to hear about your mom. You doing okay?”

  “As good as can be expected,” I answered, truthfully.

  “You’ve had a shitty few months, wouldn’t blame you if you weren’t okay.” Then he leaned closer, placing his lips near my ear.

  “Want you to know my boy feels like utter shit. But what he did, he had to do. Doesn’t mean he enjoyed a single second of it, though, from what I’ve heard. It’d be worth it to give him a few minutes of your time.”

  I blinked rapidly and looked down at my lap. In my peripheral vision, I saw that all other conversation had stopped, and I had four sets of eyes locked on Declan and me as he continued speaking into my ear.

  “Whatever he felt for you, whatever he feels for you, that wasn’t his job making him do that shit. Just want you to know.”

  “It’s not that simple,” I said, my voice thickening with emotion. Shaking my head, I turned to meet Declan’s gaze. “You don’t understand.”

  “I understand wanting something so badly and watching it slip through your fingers. I also understand giving someone a second chance, or at least giving them the time to explain so you can walk away knowing you did everything you could.”

  I blinked at him, speechless.

  He squeezed my shoulder and, with those parting words, he nodded to the other silent women at the table, and then walked away.

  “Personally,” Paige said, her voice just above a whisper, “I think the man has a point.”

  One thing I’d learned about Paige in the last few months was that she was the quintessential girly-girl and truly believed fairy tales and happily ever afters happened, and happened frequently.

  My lips pressed together as everyone watched for my reaction. I didn’t give them one. Instead, I picked up my burger and dug into it like it was my job. The longer I avoided this conversation the better.

  Thankfully, my new friends understood my strong desire to avoid Declan’s point and moved on to listening to Paige. She was talking about school starting next month where she was a kindergarten teacher at the elementary school. I shuddered at the subject, all those slimy noses in one room, and I only barely paid attention.

  I was still thinking about Tyson, and what Declan said.

  A part of me was happy to learn Tyson felt like a shit. A bigger part of me, one I knew would be impossible to ignore forever…

  Just really missed him.

  —

  I was sufficiently inebriated a couple hours later when we began saying our goodbyes. It was late, just after eleven, and Chelsea and I were outside waiting for a taxi to show up. Out of all the women, Chelsea was the one I had grown closest to. She was sweet and kind, with a large heart. Since she was not as boisterous as Suzanne or Paige, she seemed to always understand things on a deeper level.

  “You know I was married,” she said, her words slurring as we sat on a bench just outside the Fireside Grill. The summer air was still hot and the humidity still thick. I lifted the hair off the back of my neck to cool myself before dropping it again. “Wanna know why I got divorced?”

  “If you want to tell me.” I rested my head on her shoulder, fighting to stay awake. It felt like the bench we were on gently bobbed up and down like a boat in a marina slip.

  “He left me. We were trying for kids, but it’s not easy for me to have them.” She burped into her hand and I snickered despite myself. “Anyway, we had all these doctor visits, I had all these medicines to take and shots to get. Sucked.”

  “Yeah.” It would. I couldn’t fathom all that work to try for a baby.

  My head dropped forward and I forced myself to sit up. I didn’t need to be passing out on the street.

  “He said it was too stressful and he decided he didn’t want kids.” She sniffed and I watched her wipe away tears. “What he really meant, though, was that he didn’t want them with me. Because just after he left me, I ran into him at the store with his new girlfriend.”

  “Oh shit,” I muttered.

  Her face crinkled with disgust. “And his girlfriend was visibly pregnant.”

  “No way.”

  “Yup.”

  “That seriously blows.”

  “I know, right?” She sniffed and a harsh laugh escaped her. “I just…I get being hurt and I get being in pain, feeling like you’ve lost the one you were supposed to be with.” Her hand rested on my leg and I reached out, taking her hand in mine and squeezed it. “The thing is, I don’t think Tyson’s done anything that can’t be forgiven, either.”

  “You’re drunk,” I told her, bumping her shoulder with mine in order to lighten the mood.

  “Yup.” She bumped back into my shoulder. “But I’m right, too.”

  I opened my mouth to say something, anything to get us past this, but as soon as I did, a familiar voice called my name.

  “Blue?”

  “Speak of the devil,” Chelsea murmured, turning her head to look over my shoulder. “Speak of the sexy handsome devil, indeed.”

  I snorted and squeezed her hand tighter. “Tell me it’s not him.”

  “Oh yeah. It’s him.”

  “Fuck.”

  Her eyes went wide and she nodded. “Yup. I would.”

  “I can hear you two,” Tyson said, and from the sound of his voice I knew he was fighting back a laugh.

  “Declan called me,” he said, swinging a set of keys around his thumb. “Said you two have been out here for a while.”

  “We called a cab,” I explained.

 
His eyebrows knitted together and he blew out a breath. “I’d like to take you two home.”

  “Sounds good,” Chelsea chirped and jumped to her feet. Tyson reached out, catching her before she fell over.

  “I’ll wait.” I crossed my arms over my chest, shaking my head.

  “It’s just a ride, Blue. I don’t want you getting in a cab when you can barely keep your eyes open.”

  “Nothing’s going to happen in Latham Hills.”

  “I bet that’s what the women your dad stole off the streets thought, too.”

  I hissed in a breath, my body instantly vibrating with fury.

  Even Chelsea, as drunk as she was, sucked in a breath. “Harsh, Tyson.”

  He squeezed his eyes closed and ran a hand down his face. “Fuck. I know. I’m sorry,” he said when he opened his eyes and looked at me. I saw the sincerity in his eyes, the dark circles under them. “Please. Just let me get you home so I know you’re okay.”

  My glance went to Chelsea. Standing next to Tyson—he still had an arm on her back, holding her up—she shrugged. “Couldn’t hurt.”

  She was wrong. Dead wrong.

  Being around Tyson could hurt me. It already had.

  I also knew he wasn’t going to leave. If I forced it, he would probably end up following the cab around town anyway, just to make sure we didn’t get abducted.

  My shoulders slumped in defeat and I pushed myself off the bench, slower than Chelsea did so I wouldn’t fall as well.

  “Fine,” I muttered and began walking in the direction he came from. “But it’s just a ride home.”

  Tyson’s truck was parked just down the street, so close I was surprised I never heard him pull up. It was late enough that there were few cars on the street and most of the restaurants, with the exclusion of Fireside, were closing for the night. Tyson helped Chelsea into the backseat and then opened the passenger door for me to enter.