“Allison wouldn’t have run away.”
I inwardly flinch at what feels like a jab, as if he’s saying that I’m running away, but I’m not. I’m here. I’m standing in front of him. And as for the other Allison, the journal tells a story he is not. “Not even if she thought I was your new woman?” I challenge.
There’s a tic in his jaw, a darkening of his eyes. “It wasn’t Allison.”
“You weren’t sure when I talked to you.”
“I’m sure now.”
“Did you talk to her?” I press.
“No. I did not talk to her. Go to work, Ms. Wright.” He offers me his back and then he’s behind his desk, dismissing me with words and actions.
I’m not as easily dismissed as I once might have been. It seems I’ve changed, grown even, over the past couple of years.
I follow him, stepping to the opposite side of the desk, but I can’t seem to figure out what to say. Growth comes slowly, it seems.
Tyler arches a brow at my silent intrusion while I battle over words and the wisdom of speaking that truth. Because you can doesn’t mean you should. That is a lesson I’ve most certainly learned the hard way. I want to tell him how much she cared about him. I want to tell him to find her and tell her he loves her, too. I know he does. I can feel it when I say her name, almost as if he quakes inside. But I can’t do that without telling him about the journal, which doesn’t feel right. I settle for, “I’ve been thinking about getting a cat so I went to the shelter where Allison volunteers.”
“You’ve been thinking about getting a cat? But you’re going back to New York?”
“Yes,” I say. “I’ve been thinking about it for a while now.” I shift back to what is important. “They haven’t heard from her, either. When I was there, a man showed up looking for her. He wouldn’t tell me his name.”
His expression tightens. “His name is Brad Waters.”
“How do you know who I’m talking about?”
“I know who is asking around about Allison.”
“Okay. So, Brad Waters. You know him?”
“I know him,” he says, but he gives me nothing else.
“What if she left to get away from him, not you?”
That ticking in his jaw is back. “Go to work, Ms. Wright.”
My lips press together as I bite back a more detailed probe. “I’m going to work.”
“Excellent idea. I wish I’d had it.”
I hesitate again but turn and head for the door. Once I’m there he says, “If you resign again, regardless of reason, I’ll accept it.”
I rotate to face him and when I would push back, he adds, “I can either count on you, through all highs and lows, or I can’t count on you at all. That is simply how it is and will be.”
There’s really no pushback to that statement. His house, his rules. I respect him as my supervisor. It’s the personal lines with Dash he crossed that I have a problem with.
I turn to face him and say, “Understood. I want to be here. I’m going to do a good job. And on another note, I can’t leave this office without telling you that I don’t believe she would ghost you, Tyler. Ever.” I turn back to the door but not before I see the jolt of pain in his eyes.
As my hand closes on the knob, he says, “Everything is not what it seems, Ms. Wright. Remember that. It will serve you well.”
There is a vibration to his voice, emotion he doesn’t quite check and I’m reminded of the journal yet again: The thing is that all people see is that cold, hard part of him when I have seen beneath the man he allows them to see.
And so have I, I think. And so have I.
I don’t turn around again.
I leave the office. And I do so with more questions than answers.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Once I’m in my office, I settle in and realize just how much I didn’t want to say goodbye to this place. I really am passionate about what I’m doing here. I’m helping a charity and therefore, helping people in need. I don’t think I realized how much I need that in my life. In a highly familiar, and endearing way, Katie pokes her head in my office with coffee in hand.
“Have I told you I love you?” I ask.
“No,” she says. “Nor have you told me you’re dating Dash Black.” She sits down in front of my desk and offers me a cup. “How did I not know this?”
“How do you know this?” I ask, accepting the cup.
“One of the girls saw you two together at Aldean’s place.”
“Oh yes, well we are, in fact, seeing each other.”
“My God,” she gushes. “He’s so good-looking. And talented. And rich. How did this happen?”