What If I Never (Necklace Trilogy 1)

Her brows dip. “Allison is coming back? Really? She left so suddenly. But I didn’t really know her.” She eyes Dash. “But maybe, right? Because of Tyler?”

I glance at Dash. “Because of Tyler?”

“They were involved. It was a toxic relationship very few people know about which is between us.”

“Of course,” I say, thinking of the necklace. It could have come from Tyler, but somehow that just doesn’t feel right. Why would Tyler of all people send it to the office where his personal life could become public? He reads more private than that to me.

“I actually thought it ended long before she left,” Dash adds, before I can ask him to define toxic, “but hell if I know,” he continues. “Tyler and I haven’t talked much since I moved my business to Bella.”

“Tyler was your agent?” I ask.

“And attorney,” he confirms. “Most of the attorneys there at Hawk Legal work as agents.”

“I joined the firm a few years ago, right about the time Dash started writing,” Bella explains. “I hooked him up with Tyler. I was new and green and his sister. We all thought it would be weird if I represented him. Turns out, it works. I can beat him into submission much easier than anyone else,” she teases. Her cellphone buzzes with a text where it sits on the island. She grabs it, reads a message, and types. “Sorry. I have a client playing a gig at Jason Aldean’s place tonight and a record label is scouting him. He’s a nervous wreck.”

“Oh wow,” I say, sipping my coffee. “That’s exciting. And I love Jason Aldean. I can’t believe I’ve been in New York City so long I’ve never even been to his bar. It’s on Broadway, right?”

“Smack in the middle of the action,” she confirms. “You should come tonight.” She points at Dash. “He has to stay here and write, but you can come with me.”

“I’m not turning the book in early, Bella,” Dash says. “And if Allie wants to go, I’ll take her.”

I think his sister just asked me out on a second date, and I fear Dash has been cornered. I glance over at him. “You need to work and so do I.”

“I’m going to write this afternoon while you read the first half of the book. We don’t have to be at the bar until around ten.”

Bella’s cellphone buzzes with a message again and she grabs it, reads the text, and says, “Okay I have to take him a waffle and calm his crazy talented ass down.” She stands up. “And you two can figure out tonight. I’ll leave VIP passes at the door.” She hurries around the kitchen, plates an extra waffle, and then motions to the kitchen. “You know how this works, big brother. I cook. You clean up.” She waves at me. “See you tonight, Allie.” She winks, just like Dash winks, and heads for the door.

Dash waits for her to exit, and then turns us in our rotating stools to face each other. “Is it a date?”

A date.

I draw in a breath with the certainty that Dash chose his wording with purpose and I’m not sure what to think about any of this. “What happened to no relationship, Dash?”

“Don’t overthink.”

“You spent an hour thinking about why I shouldn’t be here this morning.”

“And I ended up here, asking you to stay again tonight.”

My eyes go wide. “I thought we were just going to the bar?”

“It’ll be late when we leave the bar. We might as well just come back here.”

My heart is racing. This is not a good idea, I know this, and I still say, “I have to go by my place and get some things.”

CHAPTER FIFTY

My father tries to call me while Dash and I are hunting for my thigh highs I don’t even remember taking off. Did we take them off? And why? Why was that necessary? I grab my phone, glance at the caller ID, and hit decline. Dash, who is presently on the floor digging under the couch arches a brow. “Father?”

“Yep. Any luck?”

He pushes to his feet. “No,” he says. “Where the hell are they?”

“I give up. They’re gone and my coat is at Tyler’s and it’s freezing outside, per my phone which likes to deliver bad news.”

Obliviously reading my comment he says, “If you talk to him, it’s over. If you don’t, he may keep calling.”

“He has a short attention span. He’ll be gone soon.” Dash’s hands are on his hips and he’s just looking at me.

“If your father called, would you talk to him?” I challenge.

“He wouldn’t call,” he says and that ends that topic. “I’ll get you one of my coats.” He walks away and I sigh. We’re both a mess, two troubled souls, who most likely will cut each other until we emotionally bleed. Or maybe we’ll just have sex. I don’t know what is in our future.