When I Say Yes (Necklace Trilogy 3)

“The author. I do. What about him?”

“I’m dating him. I moved in with him in Nashville, but that doesn’t mean I’m not coming back to work. I just—”

“Get to the problem.”

“He has a bit of a habit, or addiction, to something that could ruin him. And he—can I just meet you in person? Now?”

He’s silent a moment. “The coffee shop next to Riptide. Fifteen minutes. Do you need me to send you a car?”

“I’m close. I’ll walk. Thank you.”

We disconnect and I press my hand to my head. I can’t believe I’m doing this, but it’s this or nothing and nothing is not an option.

CHAPTER TWO

I manage to turn off the faucet on my face and slip out of my coat long enough to fix my makeup. Once that’s done, I do what I would never do under normal circumstances before meeting with my boss. I down a glass of wine as if it’s a shot of whiskey. I slip back into my coat, grab my purse, and head for the door. But not without turning and looking at my apartment. This is my home. Or maybe my home is another place in Nashville, but it’s not with Dash.

My place.

No one can take it from me.

Dash’s place was never mine. I know that now.

With the ease that he sent me away, we were never what I thought we were. But to his credit, he warned me. He’s not a forever kind of guy. With a twist of my heart, I exit the apartment and lock up. I can’t think about what could have been that really never existed as a possibility in the first place. I just have to save Dash from himself, even if it changes my boss’s view of me going forward.

The walk is brisk, chilly, the late afternoon cloaked in shadows as the sun begins to hug buildings and fade into the horizon. I can only assume that the fight clubs operate in the dark of night and that night is not far from welcoming him with its false promise of shelter that it doesn’t have to offer.

I arrive at the coffee shop and promise myself I will not lose my shit with Mark Compton. I will be calm and confident. I will represent myself and the auction house with dignity. With these vows, I open the door and step inside, a cozy fire in a stone fireplace warming the room. Mark stands and waves at me. He’s at a back corner table that allows him a view of the entire coffee shop. It’s a position of control and I would expect no less from this man, which is exactly why I believe he can help me.

Hurrying toward him, I sit down, surprised to find a cup of coffee waiting on me. “Vanilla latte,” he says as we sit. “Isn’t that what you always order when one of the staff picks up coffee for the office?”

“Yes,” I say. “How would you know that?”

“I know everything about the people who work for me, Ms. Wright.”

“Allie,” I say. “Or not. Whatever you want.”

He studies me with piercing gray eyes that seem to see right to my soul. He’s wearing an olive-green sweater and jeans today, but he’s no less intimidating in casual attire than he is in a custom suit. A lot like Tyler, I think, only Tyler crossed a line with Dash that somehow took him to another level of personal with me, and that I will never be with Mark Compton. I wonder if anyone is ever that personal with this man.

“Vanilla is a very safe choice, Ms. Wright,” he observes, and just when I think that’s exactly what he’s doing, being personal with me, he adds, “Asking me for help with a personal issue is not. I do believe you’re showing a little growth.”

I blink. “You think me asking you for help shows growth?”

“You’re taking a risk. We both know this is a risk. Talk to me. And to some degree, your role with Riptide will remain stagnant until you learn how to take a risk and do so with confidence. You got the risk right today. You need to work on the confidence.”

“Easier said than done when I’m taking that risk with someone else’s life. If I tell you this, you could ruin him.”

“I have no desire to ruin Dash Black or another man who hasn’t done anything to hurt me or those I love. You can trust me, Ms. Wright.”

“I believed that before I called you or I wouldn’t be here. Your mother knows my story, which means you may or may not, so forgive me for repeating what might not be necessary. My ex is a high-powered entertainment agent. He represented my father as he transitioned from playing football to being a talking head on camera. Leaving out the gory details, I broke up with him and my father did the same.”