What If I Never (Necklace Trilogy 1)

I pause there with butterflies in my belly and a hint of that creepy feeling I’d had back at the office.

Drawing a deep breath, I key in the code and open the door. I enter through a mudroom that leads to an open concept kitchen and a living room with a fireplace. Wood beams line the ceiling giving it a cozy feeling. The kitchen is a beautiful teal blue with an impressively modern and quite spacious island. Just this area of the house alone is bigger than my entire apartment back in New York City. The house is pretty incredible. My discomfort evaporates.

Eager now to get settled, I hurry back into the garage and retrieve my bags, making several trips. Once my groceries are put away in the fancy stainless steel fridge, I’m relieved to find a coffee pot which means I won’t go without my morning fix. I didn’t even consider not having one when I bought groceries. Turns out, the kitchen is fully stocked which supports Tyler having a “tenant” for insurance reasons, I guess.

Leaving my personal things in the kitchen, I survey the rest of the house which includes a small library, a balcony overlooking a pool, a gym which, considering my bad eating habits lately, really excites me, several bedrooms, and finally a master. The en suite bathroom is magnificent, complete with a fancy half egg-shaped tub and a walk-in closet with so much space I could sleep in it. Fortunately, considering I’d forgotten the need for such things, the linen closet is stocked. I feel spoiled and out of my element, but I remind myself that New York City is about living compact. This is Nashville. Everything is bigger in Nashville.

A few minutes later, my feet are in my Ugg slippers, my Lean Cuisine is microwaving, and I am now noticing the door off the main room I haven’t explored. This must lead to the wine vault. I open the door, flip on a light and find a long set of stairs. Hurrying downstairs, I find an incredible room lined with bottles of wine, with a fancy shiny wood table in the center of the shelving. Just beyond this space, is the vault. It’s strange that Tyler keeps this here. I don’t understand it, but I guess it’s not my business.

Per Tyler, I’m allowed to drink whatever wine I like. With this in mind, I surf the many shelves to find a red blend that I suspect is ridiculously expensive. I’m tempted, I really am, but I slide it back into place. No matter what Tyler said about drinking whatever I want, I feel weird about it. The microwave buzzer goes off to indicate my TV dinner is ready and I head upstairs. A few minutes later, I’m at the island with my meal and my MacBook. I intend to do my work. Instead, I google “Dash Black dating.”

It’s a mistake.

He was notably in a relationship with a gorgeous blonde model who probably never eats cupcakes. God, what was I thinking? He’s not into me. I don’t know what that was going on between us, but I assume it has something to do with his charity and public image. I really should have opened the bottle of wine. Instead, I stuff a bite of food in my mouth. Once my dinner is in my belly, apparently being upset over Dash doesn’t hurt my appetite, I pull the necklace from my briefcase and set it on the counter next to me. Flipping open the lid, I stare down at the sparkling jewels, wondering if this could be a gift from Tyler. I mean he gave her this house. Of course, he gave it to me, too, and there’s nothing between me and Tyler. And why would Tyler have the necklace delivered to the very office they both worked at?

No. I don’t think Tyler sent the necklace, but I’m speculating.

I google Allison and try to find her social profiles, but come up dry. I’d say that was odd but sometimes people are hard to find. Probably because I hate social media, therefore I’m not that savvy with the search. Truly the only reason I have accounts is for work reasons. Even then, I rely on our dedicated social media person at Riptide for most things.

I’m just not sure what to do with it now. Maybe I could ask Tyler to put it in the vault and watch his reaction when he sees it? Not yet, I think. This is Allison’s private matter. I’ll give her time to call me back.

Glancing from the necklace and around the cozy room, I find it hard to believe Allison left all of this.

It’s almost as if she was running away and not necessarily out of fear. If I’m honest with myself, there are things in New York I’d like to run from.