“You sure?”
“Positive. Is the last offer still on the table from a few months ago?”
“I’ll check. If so, I’ll rearrange some meetings. I can be there by noon tomorrow.”
“See you then.”
“Are you going to tell me what’s going on?”
“I’ll explain when you get here.”
“I’m on my way.”
“Thanks, Ryan.”
Tossing the phone on the counter, I pour another two fingers in the tumbler.
“To you, Sir,” I lift my glass before tossing back my dinner.
My body vibrates along with the sound of the motors as they whiz past me on the narrow road.
The wind kicks up as they speed by, and I wave, teeth chattering, shivering in the cold, before looking into the direction they’re heading.
Fear slams into me when I see the road ending abruptly in the distance. There’s nothing but darkness past the tree line.
“Stop!” I scream as they continue to blast by. Furiously, I wave my arms in warning and point to the road ahead, but I know they can’t hear me. Flailing, I move to step out onto the road just as the Camaro comes into view. I attempt to call out to him, but I can’t. Instead, his name comes out muddled off my tongue. “Stop!” I step out into the road to give chase, but they’re too far gone. I’m too late. It’s too late.
I jerk awake as one of the French doors crashes against the wall, a gust of wind covering me as I whimper, and slam my eyes shut, starting a slow count to even my breathing and steady my heartbeat. A hot tear escapes as the dream freshly implants in my psyche. Another icy gust of wind has me scrambling from the bed to shut my balcony doors on a drab, cloud-littered sunrise.
After a long, hot shower to warm me up, the Advil finally starts to kick in. Sucking on a water bottle, I hydrate while I pick through my old closet and the wardrobe of a twenty-year-old me. Apparently, my things had been carefully unpacked after they restored order to the house. Moving the hangers aside one by one, I pause when I spot the crumpled dress on the floor tucked in the corner of the closet. Fingering the straps, the rest of the pale-yellow dress falls limp in front of me, faint stains covering the bodice.
A dress still soiled from our watermelon fight, the night I confessed to Sean I was in love with him.
“I take it back.”
Throat stinging, I press the fabric to my face in hopes of breathing in any trace of him and am disappointed. After we broke up, I couldn’t bring myself to wash the dress. The ache gnaws at me as I carefully fold it and stick it on the shelf above before heading downstairs and hauling my suitcase in from the car. Taking my time, I restructure the closet with my temporary wardrobe. I don’t know how long I’m staying, but with last night’s decision, I know it will take some time to get it all done. And it’s apparent I need some semblance of order.
The last thirty-six hours have been a mess. I splintered within hours of arriving here. I’d confessed unthinkable things to my ex-fiancé who didn’t deserve it. I’d said too much. I can’t fall back into old patterns or I’ll lose focus. My emotions may have gotten me here, but my sensibilities need to kick in and help me navigate the rest.
After unpacking, I head downstairs with my rocks glass and the half-empty bottle of whiskey. Still a bit disoriented from hitting the bottle so hard, I stumble in my footing and drop the glass which shatters on the kitchen floor. I gather a broom and dustpan and begin sweeping the shards up when a faint but distinct smell wafts into my nose.
Dropping the pan, I stare down at the cracked glass in disbelief. I lift one of the larger pieces and sniff.
Gin.
I would know this scent anywhere. At times, I can still taste it on his lips.
Big Brother is watching you.
Racing to the small pantry that houses the security equipment, I rewind the last twenty-four hours to around the time I arrived. But it’s only my car in the driveway that appears on screen, and it’s only me that enters the house. I was alone last night.
I palm my face and sigh.
The dream, the dress, the surfacing memories, along with the lingering alcohol, have definitely set my imagination off. I’m already a prisoner of this place and the way it’s haunting me.
I decide to preserve some dignity and toss the glass into the trash.
My mind is playing tricks already, and I’m not going to entertain it.
I opted to meet Ryan at his hotel in the lobby and spot him typing a mile a minute on his laptop. I called him in because he’s one of the best corporate lawyers in the country and the biggest asset in my company. He’s also highly protective of both me and my best interests. He glances up at me over his screen in greeting and gives me his signature panty-dropping grin. He’s ridiculously good looking in an all-American way: an athletic build, thick wavy, sandy-blond hair, and ocean-blue eyes.
Despite being my most trusted business partner, he’s also an ex-boyfriend from college. We dated for a few months during my junior year before he grew tired of the space I purposely put between us, refusing to let him get close. He eyes my dress, and I don’t miss the way they linger. Despite my rough morning, I managed to pull myself together today, choosing my favorite ‘I’ve got this’ spiked black boots. I paired them with a sleek black pencil skirt and form-fitting, popped collar blazer that reveals a respectable amount of cleavage. I left my hair down and curled it in waves before applying a full face of makeup, lining my eyes black and shading my lips deep red. The same red of the trench coat draped over my arm.
Ryan stands from the small two-seater he was lounging in and towers over me before pulling me into a hug. As always, he’s impeccably dressed. His hair combed back neatly. I can feel the stares of the two women standing at the front desk. He’s got a natural knack for drawing attention, but at the moment, his is on me. “You look beautiful.”
“Thanks, but I feel like hell.”
His thick, dark blond brows V. “Not sleeping well?”
“Not really, no,” I confess as I glance around the boutique hotel.
Traffic bustles in and out of the lobby as I take in the posh furnishings and artwork. He’s staying at one of the few inns on the square that’s been newly purchased and renovated.
“This is nice.”
“It will do,” he says, looking me over curiously. “You want to tell me why the sudden change of heart? You’ve refused to entertain any offers or even talk about this place.”
“I have my reasons.”
He closes his laptop and pushes it in his dark brown leather satchel, the same one he used in school. “Always so damn secretive.”
I shrug. “Every woman needs some element of mystery, right?”
“It’s not annoying at all.” He deadpans. “And not at all the reason why I dumped you. I am curious as to how Collin got in. It’s because he’s British, it’s the accent, am I right?”
His smile fades when he reads my expression at the mention of Collin. “Really, Cecelia? Even I had a hard-on for him.”
“I don’t want to talk about it.” I turn and make my way out of the double doors, and he stops me out on the sidewalk, gently tugging my coat from my grip before helping me into it. “I’m sorry,” he whispers softly. “That was an asshole thing to say.”