What If I Never (Necklace Trilogy 1)

***

I walk into Nova five minutes early to be led to a small round table in the outdoor area, where a fireplace adds a cozy effect. Tyler and his father are already present and both men stand to greet me.

“Ms. Wright,” Tyler greets. “Meet my father, the master of our universe.”

I draw in a breath as my gaze touches piercing gray eyes, and a man so like Tyler, it’s almost spooky. Jack Hawk is tall, fit, athletic even, and appears far younger than what must be his fifties.

“Nice to meet you, sir.”

“Jack,” he amends. “I’m not quite as formal as my son.”

Tyler’s lips twitch in what I believe to be irritation while his father motions for me to sit.

I quickly claim the seat between them and hang my purse on the back of my seat.

“How about a drink?” Jack asks.

“Coffee,” I say. “I have to drive home and I’m not a good drinker.”

“Well, nothing wrong with being a bad drinker.” He motions to the waitress and orders my coffee.

Once that’s done, Jack fixes me in a stare, and it’s crazy how much he looks, sounds, and even moves like Tyler. “I hear you’re filling in for Allison,” he comments.

“I am. It worked out well, her leave and my leave.”

“I attended a Riptide auction last year. I do believe I saw you there. What is your role with the company?”

“Jack of all trades, no pun intended,” I laugh. “I’ve been training under the principals and do pretty much anything and everything.”

“A versatile person is a keeper,” he says. “Tyler takes after his old man. He knows how to see that in people, as do I. I hear your mother just recovered from cancer.”

“She did,” I say. “I just can’t seem to let go yet, which is why I’m here until after the holidays.”

“Unless you decide to stay.”

“Allison is coming back and I know you all are looking forward to her return.”

His lips press together in a barely perceivable way, but I notice. “That doesn’t mean there isn’t room for one more if it’s the right one more.”

From there, the conversation flows like a job interview, with Tyler my unexpected advocate, which makes for a far more comfortable conversation. I’m not alone. I’m with him which is appreciated. We’re about twenty minutes in when Tyler’s phone rings.

“I need to take this,” he says, and before I can process me being left alone with Jack, it happens. I have no idea why this shoots a dart of nerves in me but it does.

“I actually should pop into the ladies’ room,” I say, reaching for my purse, and Lord help me, I strike again. It falls to the ground. Thankfully it doesn’t spill and I grab it, only to have Jack reach down and hold up the velvet necklace box. “What’s this?”

I swallow hard and before I can stop him, he’s opened the lid. His eyes narrow on the necklace and lift to me. “It’s beautiful. Why don’t wear it instead of carrying it around?”

“It’s not mine. It belongs to—a friend. I told her I’d ship it to her and didn’t have time to get to it today.” The lie does not flow easily, but rather, like a lie—awkward and heavy.

He shuts the lid and hands it back to me. “Too bad. It would look lovely on you, Allison.”

There is something a little too warm in his voice and I quickly accept the velvet box and slide it back into my purse.

“What did I miss?” Tyler asks.

My attempted bathroom escape was initially to avoid Jack, but there is no escaping my spilled purse debacle. I hold my breath, expecting Jack to bring up the necklace that Tyler may well have sent Allison but he doesn’t. “I was just about to ask Allison to update us on the auction.”

The transition from the necklace to the auction is a clunky one for me, but I eventually fall into the conversation with the energy worthy of my hard work. It’s a good hour later when we all stand to depart.

“I’ll walk you to your car,” Tyler offers.

Jack extends his hand and I press my palm to his, only to have him hold onto it. “I suspect I’ll see you soon, Allison.” For another beat, he’s still holding me, until finally, he releases me.

Tyler’s eyes glint at his father before he motions for me to walk ahead of him. Once we’re outside, he steps to my side. “Where are we going?”

“Around the corner. You don’t have to walk me.”

“I’m walking you,” he says, as stubborn as when Dash had said the same to me.

I sigh with resignation and start walking with him falling into step with me, but he says nothing, not a word. It’s not until we’re standing at the driver’s side of Dash’s car that he says, “What happened between you and my father when I took that call?”