Because I Can (Necklace Trilogy 2)

I draw in a breath at what I can easily compare to the conversation I’d had with Dash that first night with him. And yet, I did take him home to mom. And she loves him. God, what am I doing with Dash? What are we doing? My eyes lower to the journal again.

I knew it would eventually transform from pleasure and mutual obsession to pain and not the good kind, as he would call that of our little games. The kind of pain that comes with heartache. I was right, of course. It’s happening. The heartache has arrived. I fell in love and I swear I thought he did, as well. I felt it when I was with him. And yet, today I will face him and know that last night he dominated me, had me every which way he wanted me, and I liked it.

Today, I don’t. Today is different. And I’m not sure either of us can handle that.

I shut the journal and do so with a twist in my gut. I don’t know where Allison is right now, but I know one thing. I wouldn’t blame her if she left Nashville. This city was not kind to her. And if Tyler did love her, why did he let her go?

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

I arrive at Hawk Legal with time to spare and am eager to get my meeting with Tyler behind me.

This is exactly why I exit the elevator and I don’t turn right toward the main lobby and my office, nor do I head to the coffee bar for the coffee I crave desperately. Technically, I don’t even work here. I resigned. Instead, I turn left and head straight to the doors that lead to Tyler’s offices. As usual, it seems, his secretary is not at her desk. Almost as if he runs her off or she hides from him. Whatever the case, her absence just makes this all the easier to work through.

I charge down the hallway, willing my racing heart to calm down. I don’t even know why I’m so hyped up. I don’t need this job. Okay, then again, if I decide to stay here in Nashville, I’m not living off Dash. I don’t know if we will even last and even if we do, I’m not going to make him feel his money matters to me. It doesn’t. That means I need a job and this job is a good job, and my duties are duties I feel passionate about. Suddenly, the dynamic of this meeting has changed. I’m not as in control as I once thought myself to be.

Tyler’s door is open and I step to the entryway to find him standing to the left of his desk, almost directly in front of me, facing the window.

“Come in, Ms. Wright,” he states as if he has eyes in the back of his head. And who knows, maybe he does. He turns to face me, and I’m struck by how good-looking Tyler truly is, perhaps more so now than ever as the words in the journal play in my head: I’ve never known a man who can be as powerful and confident in a custom suit as he is naked in his own skin.

“Shut the door,” he commands, and it is a command. The man oozes in your face dominance, while Dash might have a dominant streak, he manages it in a far less intrusive fashion.

I shut the door and step more fully into the room. “You used me to get to Dash.”

“I used you to save Dash,” he counters.

“After you used me to punch back at him over Allison.”

He arches a brow. “Is that what he told you?”

“That’s what I’m telling you.”

He steps closer, leaving only a few steps to separate us. He towers over me, his expression unreadable as he says, “You used your job against me. That’s unacceptable, Ms. Wright. You are in or out. Decide now.”

I wonder if he’s trying to intimidate me, and I suspect most people would, in fact, respond accordingly. But I work for the Comptons in a business filled with the rich and famous. Not to mention, my editorial experience forced me to critique some of the most talented authors on planet Earth. My chin lifts and I say, “I will not be used against Dash.”

“In or out does not require commentary.”

“In,” I say. “I made a commitment. I’m passionate about the work I’m doing here.”

“And after the event is over?”

“Are you offering me a job?”

“You spoke to me about motivations. I’m simply trying to understand yours.”

Being near my mother, I think. Being with Dash. Being happy. But I say none of this. I stick with what is relevant to his needs. “Right now,” I say, “I’m here to make the auction a success but I’m not going to stay in your house, Tyler. Not after what happened the other night.” I hesitate and ask, “Could it have been Allison? Did she come back?”