When I Say Yes (Necklace Trilogy 3) - Page 36

“When?”

“How about the Saturday after Thanksgiving? It can be a new tradition.”

His eyes and his voice warm. “I like that, Allie. Very much.”

Now, I warm. “Perfect.”

“Yes. Yes, it is,” he agrees. “Trust the magic of new beginnings, baby. And yes, that is a quote, and no, I don’t know who said it. I read it. Somewhere. Probably on the internet, about the time I left the FBI behind. And here I am. And here you are. Where you belong, Allie.”

“Yes,” I say softly. “Here I am. Where I belong.”

And for the first time, I dare to believe this is where I will stay.

To hell with the storm.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

Turns out, the pastries are really good pastries. I eat one and wrap one up to take with me on the road. “I really want to get to work early.”

“I’ll go with you,” Dash suggests, finishing off a pastry of his own. “I need to write and I do that better at certain stages of the book when I’m not at home and easily distracted. I’ll head over to Cupcakes and Books.”

I glance at my watch. “Are they open?”

“I have a key. Jackson and Adrianna let me go in through the employee entrance and start working before the doors open.”

“That’s a sweet deal, quite literally,” I joke.

“That’s right, cupcake,” he says with a wink, and then we bundle up and he walks me to Hawk Legal, where we make plans for lunch.

Dash and I part ways with a kiss and a shared smile that carries me inside the building, leaving him behind, but not for long. I’m feeling that whole surreal sensation again. I’d been so alone when I met Dash and I’d almost convinced myself that’s what I wanted. Now, I can’t imagine life without him and that’s the scary thing. While I know he’s committed and so am I, I can’t shake the certainty that there is that storm cloud hovering, and sooner or later, it will burst. I shove aside that thought and focus on the task ahead of me.

Mark has told me I have a job. Tyler has not. This is a two-way street. While yes, I could work from home, and still manage the annual charity and year-round auctions, I’m not sure how that would really work out. Bottom line, I’m celebrating a future that requires three signatures and I only have two. Mine and Mark’s. I need Tyler’s, which is exactly why when I step off the elevator I head straight to my office, or what I hope is my office, dump my things and then make my way to his office. It’s early, but Tyler tends to be in the office before everyone and he often stays until the place is dark. I’m not sure if that means he’s devoted to his work, or hiding from his personal life. Maybe both. I understand both. That was my story before I met Dash.

As expected, his secretary is not in yet, but a peak down the hallway tells me the light to his office is shining brightly.

I hurry in that direction and step into his doorway. Tyler is standing in front of the window, as I found him once before, staring out at the city. I wonder what a man like Tyler contemplates so intensely. The words I’d read in the journal last night come back to me:

I loved him. I believe he loved me, too. I still love him and yet, we are no more.

I wonder if Allison is on his mind.

I wonder if she’s moved on and is happy.

I wonder why I can’t believe that to be true.

Tyler turns to face me. “You don’t work for me anymore, Ms. Wright, and yet, I get the feeling you still aspire to continue to be the first and last person to harass me today.”

“Harass you?” I challenge, a bit amused at this remark. “Is that what I’m doing?”

“I haven’t had coffee this morning. So, yes. You’re harassing me, as would anyone else who spoke to me right now.”

“Should I go get you a coffee and come back?”

“The part where you come back doesn’t work for me.”

“Okay then. You’re obviously pissed at me, right?”

“No,” he replies flatly. “I am not pissed at you, though a warning about Mark Compton calling me would have been appreciated.”

“I didn’t know. I didn’t even plan to be back here today, because of—”

“Dash. I know. I told you he’s fucked up. You didn’t listen.”

“Aren’t we all, Tyler?”

“I believe we’re repeating a previous argument. No coffee, Ms. Wright. Remember?”

“This keeps going sideways. Deny what you will, but we both know you’re really angry at me.”

He scrubs his jaw in an act of frustration, not his normal cool confidence and control, then settles his hands on his hips under his jacket before he motions to the door. “Let’s go have coffee, Allie. Not here.”

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