Release (Iris Series)

by Lynn, Rebecca

  She had fallen for him so fast. It blindsided her. And now, things were getting complicated. A lone tear escaped her eye. Maybe she did have PMS, because she was a weepy wreck. She needed to get it together before her conversation with him at nine. She rested her head on the sofa pillow, and closed her eyes.

  …..

  ‘I feel like makin’ love…’

  Ryann jolted awake as she heard Jeremy’s ringtone go off. She stumbled off of the sofa and ran to the phone on the dining table.

  She fumbled with it, then answered.

  “Hey,” she breathed, slightly out of breath. She looked at the time and noticed it was nearly twenty after nine. Her phone told her that she had missed a text from him about 15 minutes ago.

  “Hey. There you are.” Pause. “Were you sleeping?”

  “I must’ve fallen asleep on the sofa.” Her heart was racing. “Are you at the airport?”

  “Yeah, I should be boarding in about 10 minutes.”

  “I’m sorry I fell asleep,” she said, disappointment lacing her voice.

  “Don’t be sorry. You’re tired. You’ve got a new schedule you have to get used to.”

  “Yeah.” Pause. “How was your time with your mom?”

  His voice took on a loving tone. “It was great…it was…a good conversation. One that needed to be had.”

  “Good,” she said. Wondering if everything was ok, she asked, “Is anything wrong, or?…” she stammered, knowing it was none of her business.

  “No, nothing was wrong. Just needed to talk to her about a few things.”

  “Well, good. I’m glad it was a good talk.”

  There was a moment of silence, then they both started talking at once.

  He chuckled, and said, “You go first.”

  “I was just going to say that I wish I could’ve said goodbye to you.” She squeezed her eyes shut.

  “Me too, baby,” he said, his voice low. She could hear the sounds of the airport in the background. “But I didn’t want to interrupt your class.”

  “I know,” she murmured. “I just…wish we could’ve seen each other before you had to leave.”

  “I know, baby.” Pause. “How was the rest of your day?” he asked quietly.

  She swallowed the lump in her throat. “Fine.”

  “That’s good.” Pause. “Did…Armand talk to you again?” His voice hardened.

  “No. I never saw him again,” she sighed.

  “And, no…other problems or anything?”

  She squeezed her eyes shut again. “Nope. All is good…” she said, forcing happiness into her voice.

  “Ok. I have meetings all day tomorrow, and given the time change, I may not be able to call you again until you’re already in bed, but let’s definitely plan on talking on Wednesday, ok?”

  She blinked back the tears, and fought to keep the waver out of her voice. “Ok.”

  “Baby, I…” Pause. “I should go. They’re going to start boarding soon.”

  “Ok, be safe.”

  “I will.” He paused again. “Ryann…I know we’re a little…off…right now…I promise when I get back, we’ll talk, ok?”

  The tears were flowing, and she couldn’t stop them. “Ok,” she whispered.

  “Please don’t cry, baby. Are you crying?” he asked, concern in his voice.

  Ryann, she could hear her mother saying in her head, a crying female is not what a man wants.

  “Jeremy, I’m fine. Have a safe trip, ok?”

  “Ryann…”

  “Text me on Wednesday, and let me know when you want to talk.”

  “I can text you tomorrow.”

  “That’s ok. I know you’ll be busy.” Why was she doing this? She was self-sabotaging...saving her heart, and erecting a wall.

  “What’s wrong?”

  She could hear the squawk of the announcer at the gate, and said, “Nothing. Just be safe, ok? We’ll talk on Wednesday.”

  He let go of a harsh exhalation of air, then said, “Ok. I’ll text you Wednesday.” Pause. “I…” he sighed. “I’ll talk to you in a few days, baby.”

  “Ok. Bye.” She disconnected, and covered her mouth, holding in a sob.

  How the hell had their relationship gone from playful sexual banter, to this somber disconnection so quickly?

  She walked into the bedroom, laid down, letting the emotional exhaustion take over, and fell asleep.

  Chapter 22

  Tuesday had been a nightmare...at least from five o’clock on. Now, sitting on her bed at 10 o’clock, Ryann was happy to have it end.

  It had consisted of a long, but fruitful day of classes, only to end with a meeting with Jack Willis, the Dean of Faculty.

  For an hour, Paul had talked of his issues with Jennifer, and then went line by line through Ryann’s complaint, along with mentioning all of the times he had witnessed her being inappropriate and unprofessional with others at the Institute.

  Jack had listened intently, and had taken notes, then looked at Ryann. “I’m going to be talking to Jennifer about this, Ryann. You understand I need to hear her side of this. But, I’m glad Paul brought this to our attention. If she really is doing what you both say she’s doing, then it needs to be addressed.” He paused. “No matter what, it’s no one’s business who you date, and it’s certainly not Jennifer’s. Jeremy’s already mentioned it to me, and we’ve already talked through how your evaluation will take place, so from the Institute’s perspective, there are no issues.” Pause. “But unfortunately, when the new VC and an intern are dating, it makes for some salacious talk around the water cooler,” he had said dryly.

  Thinking back on it now, she still blushed with embarrassment. She had never been so mortified in her life. She couldn’t think of a time when her reputation had ever been called into question. Not that he had, but she hated that people weren’t looking at her because of her skill set and accomplishments, but rather this stupid complaint about adolescent behavior.

  She had told Paul she didn’t want to do this, but he hadn’t backed down.

  On Wednesday, the Institute was hustling and bustling, readying itself for the big gala on Friday. She laid low, and went through her work schedule, thankfully never bumping into MG, and went home right after work.

  Jeremy had never texted.

  All she wanted to do was go to bed. Which she promptly did, right after she ate and showered.

  …..

  “I feel like makin’ love…”

  Ryann awoke from a dead sleep, and tried to get her bearings. Jeremy’s ringtone. She began looking for the phone, and found it on her nightstand. She looked at the time. 11:05pm.

  She answered. “Hey,” she said sleepily.

  “Hi, baby. I’m sorry I didn’t text. I know you were sleeping, but…I needed to hear your voice...I wanted to talk to you.”

  She smiled and sighed. “Hi,” she said snuggling into the pillow.

  “Hi,” he said back.

  She smiled again.

  He paused. “How have the last two days been?”

  “Good,” was her automatic reply. “How have the meetings with your clients been going?”

  “Very productive.” Pause. “Anything eventful happening while I’m gone?”

  “No…just everyone getting ready for the gala.”

  “Ryann,” he paused, then his voice hardened. “Things at the Institute have been going ok?”

  Fuck, she thought. Did someone tell him about her complaint? Shit.

  “Yes,” she said hesitantly.

  “Wrong answer. Try again,” he said in a furious whisper.

  He knew.

  “Jeremy…” she stammered.

  “Ryann, I’m so fucking pissed at you right now, I can’t even see straight. If I were there, I don’t know if I’d want to fuck you senseless, or spank that ass of yours until it’s red.”

  Not liking his tone, and misunderstanding the reason for his anger, her back went up. “Hey! I didn’t want to write the complaint. Paul o
verheard me mumbling, and I didn’t intend for him to know about anything, and he wouldn’t take no for an answer. He made me submit it,” she babbled.

  “And you think that’s why I’m pissed? Because you submitted a complaint?” he huffed.

  “I never wanted you to be brought into this mess. It’s just so…stupid and childish,” she said in an exasperated tone.

  “I’m not worried about me, Ryann,” he said, equally exasperated.

  She continued, not even hearing him. “I told you ...this…relationship, or whatever it is wouldn’t be a good idea, Jeremy. I don’t want your reputation to be sullied by this, and I hate what people will think of me if they find out about me...complaining. I feel like a tattle tale or something.”

  “Number one, our relationship has nothing to do with Jennifer Edwards, or that she’s a bitch who’s been misrepresenting the Institute for years. Don’t you dare use her as an excuse. And number two, you know what people are going to think of you? They’re going to think finally someone had the balls to stand up to Jennifer Edwards.” He let out what sounded like an agonized breath. “Why didn’t you tell me all of this? That’s why I’m pissed. You should’ve told me, Ryann. You. Not the Dean of Faculty.”

  She sighed and rubbed her head. “It’s such a babyish thing to get you involved in. You’re the VC, Jeremy. This is just day to day shitty stuff that you shouldn’t have to be brought into.”

  “Ryann,” he growled. She could picture him running his fingers through his hair. “You make me fucking crazy.”

  They were both breathing heavily, and needed a moment to calm themselves.

  Ryann was suddenly exhausted. “Let’s talk about this when you get back. There might be nothing that will even come of this.”

  “Ryann, why do you think Jack Willis called me? There is something that is coming of it. She was asked to hand in her resignation today.”

  Ryann gasped, “Oh, my god! Are you serious?! From my complaint?” She groaned, “Jeremy, please don’t tell me you had her fired over this!”

  “How could I have had anything to do with this when you didn’t even tell me about it?!” he yelled, exasperated. “You make me fucking crazy,” he mumbled again.

  “Why did they fire her?”

  He lowered his voice, and said in a controlled voice, “She had a multitude of complaints brought against her last year, unbeknownst to me, and they were apparently going to give her another shot this year. Yours was the one that broke the camel’s back…that, and the fact that she told Jack Willis to go fuck himself.”

  “What?!”

  Jeremy let go of a rush of air. “I have a feeling even if Jack didn’t believe your complaints, she would’ve been given her walking papers. When he asked her about yours and Paul’s charges, her true colors came out, and she went off on him.”

  “So what’s going to happen to her?”

  “Out of respect for her father, and the fact that her sculpting students will be auctioning off their pieces on Friday, they’re allowing her to attend the gala, but after that, she’s history.”

  She let out a deep sigh, but remained silent. She had to admit she was thrilled. Jennifer had shown over and over that she wasn’t a good representative of the Institute, and treated people atrociously. Was it really possible she wouldn’t have to deal with her snarky remarks anymore? Ryann smiled, feeling positive for the first time in days.

  “We do need to talk when I get back,” he said quietly. “After the gala, Ryann.”

  Shit. And they were back to this again. Her moment of happiness was short lived, and her stomach sank back down into nervous flutters.

  “I know.” Pause. “When are you supposed to be home on Friday?”

  “My flight leaves at four, so as soon as I get in, I’ll run home and get changed, then I’ll head out to the Institute. I’m hoping to be there by eight or so.”

  She hesitated, then said, “Why don’t we take tomorrow to do some thinking, and we’ll just see each other on Friday. Okay?”

  He paused. “You don’t want to talk tomorrow?”

  “I always want to talk, but when it’s by phone, there are too many opportunities for misunderstandings, and I’d rather save it for when we’re face to face.”

  He was quiet, then he said softly, “We’ll play it your way for now, Ryann, but…” He sighed. “I guess I’ll see you Friday, then.”

  “Yes.” Pause. “I hope the rest of your meetings go well.” Pause. “Have a safe flight, and I’ll see you in a couple of days.” He hadn’t said anything. Her stomach was in knots “Are you there?”

  “Yeah, I’m here.” Pause. “I’ll see you on Friday,” he said quietly.

  Then he disconnected…and that’s exactly how she felt.

  Chapter 23

  The day of the gala had finally arrived, and the Institute looked absolutely gorgeous. The lobby was all decked out, and the Mackenzie Renault painting had been set up in the parlor. Although security was tight, everyone was excited for the big night…students, faculty and staff, even the public. Having an actual Mackenzie Renault painting there as the main centerpiece, was sure to bring in a pretty penny for the causes of the Institute.

  Ryann hadn’t seen Jennifer for the past two days, thankfully. Unfortunately, she also hadn’t talked to Jeremy. It was her own damn fault. In a moment of panic, she had given the edict that they shouldn’t talk until tonight. And now her bruised heart was paying the price.

  Paul had been doing the happy dance for the past two days, singing ‘Ding Dong, the Witch Is Dead.’ He was thrilled with the outcome of the week, and still a little disgruntled that Jennifer was allowed to be at the gala, but as both he and Ryann had said, ‘it is what it is.’

  The Institute had stopped classes at three o’clock, to allow everyone to go home and get ready for the event. When Ryann stepped off the elevator to head back home, she saw Armand standing by one of the pillars in the lobby with someone from security. Although he was only responsible for the safe transport of the painting to the Institute, and its security was now in the hands of the Institute, he would still be present for the gala that night.

  She attempted to make it out the door without being seen by him, but she hadn’t walked fast enough.

  He walked toward her and intercepted her at the exit.

  “Hello, Ryann.”

  She stopped and smiled. “Hi, Armand. Everything’s gone well with the transport of the painting, I assume?”

  “Yes,” he smiled. “It’s now safely ensconced in the parlor. Have you seen it yet?”

  “No, actually. I figured I’d see it tonight. I was just about to head home to start getting ready.”

  He took her elbow and steered her toward the parlor. “Why don’t I take you back so you can see it without hundreds of people around? There won’t be a problem if you’re with me.”

  “Oh. Well, thank you. That’s sweet.”

  “That’s me. Sweet,” he said, flashing a sexy smile.

  He led her into the parlor, into the midst of all of the chaos of getting ready, and stopped in front of the painting.

  It was stunning. She had only seen photos of it, but had obviously never seen it in person since it was owned by a private collector.

  The name pretty much summed it up: Heat. The abstract style coupled with the dark gold and orange tones of oil on the canvas caused the viewer to look more carefully. The semblance of two figures were in the top left corner of the canvas and were entwined together in an embrace. One could just make out the forms of genitalia, and the fusion of the figures’ bodies.

  “It’s quite something, isn’t it?”

  She looked at Armand, then back at the painting. “Yes.”

  “Ryann, I hope you don’t mind if I say something personal…”

  “I would mind, Armand,” she sighed.

  “Before you shut me out, please listen to what I have to say. Jeremy’s little...display...of schoolboy behavior the other day meant nothing. He may as well hav
e been telling me he didn’t want me to play with his favorite toy.”

  She could feel herself getting annoyed.

  Armand paused, then said, “I know Jeremy, Ryann. I’ve known him for years now. He has many favorite…toys.”

  She didn’t want to hear this…she wasn’t going to listen to this. It was feeding into her insecurities, and she couldn’t take anymore.

  God, was everyone laughing at her for being with Jeremy? Comments came flooding back, from Robbie’s father warning her at Tabitha’s showing that Jeremy was a heartbreaker… Jeremy pursuing her so aggressively, admitting himself that he was a lover of women…seeing his face on the internet with so many beautiful females…Jennifer’s comments…even Jack Willis saying people would be talking about them by the water cooler.

  She really couldn’t take anymore.

  “Armand, my relationship with Jeremy is none of your concern. Thank you for the private showing, but I need to get going.”

  She turned away, and he stopped her with his hand on her arm. “Please promise me something. Promise me that when he hurts you, you’ll come to me.” He passed her his card with his other hand.

  “Armand, I need to leave,” she said calmly, ignoring his offer of the card. “Please let go of my arm.”

  “Take my number, Ryann.” He forced it into her hand. “I’ll see you tonight.”

  She turned and nearly ran to the door.

  …..

  When she got home, her head was spinning.

  She needed to run.

  She quickly changed into her running gear and took her normal five mile route, making it back to her apartment an hour later.

  She stripped as soon as she hit the inside of her place, dropped her stuff on the floor by the door, and ran to the bathroom to get in the shower. She needed the silence, the cocoon of steam.

  She stepped under the spray of the hot water and willed her tense shoulders to relax.

  She couldn’t stop her mind from thinking.

  When Brent had died, she chugged along, pulling herself up by the bootstraps. She had chosen him for his loyalty, stability…his safeness. He was a safe choice.