Dane's Storm

The San Francisco International Airport was crowded and confusing, but I managed to find my way to the front where I stepped onto a curb filled with taxis and other vehicles. I hadn’t checked a bag, because I’d only be here for a couple of days, and I’d been able to fit what I needed in a carry-on. Wheeling it behind me, I asked a man in an airport uniform for directions to the BART—rapid rail transit—and twenty minutes later, I was on a train, moving rapidly underground toward downtown San Francisco. Thank goodness Jay had been able to help me plan all this in advance or I’d have been completely lost.

I almost missed my stop because of people watching, but managed to squeeze through the doors as they were closing, bursting out onto the train platform, my bag barely making it as the doors slammed and the train pulled out of the station.

I climbed the stairs to the street and pulled out my phone, following the directions to the hotel I’d booked. When I arrived in front of it, I groaned. God, it looked like a flea trap. Sighing, I pulled my suitcase inside. It was important that I be frugal, so I’d booked one of the less expensive hotels I found online. I just hoped it had clean sheets.

Check-in was quick and easy enough—the older woman at the front counter barely giving me a glance as she took my information and handed me a key card. I took the elevator to the third floor, let myself in the room, and considered my home for the next two nights.

The only other hotel I’d stayed in was on my wedding night at the Four Seasons in Denver. Dane and I had driven there after our ceremony at the courthouse. It had been the first time we’d slept in a bed together, and so filled with lust and love, we didn’t do much actual sleeping. My mind might have lingered on the sadness that memory evoked, on how desperately in love I’d been—on how hopeful happiness had filled me—but the strange smell in this room distracted me from those thoughts. I wrinkled my nose at the odor that hung in the air—something that brought to mind . . . hot dogs?

Stepping forward, I leaned my head into the open door to my right and clicked the light switch. It was a small bathroom, old but clean enough it seemed. I wasn’t used to anything much better as far as bathrooms went—not at this point in my life anyway—so I wouldn’t complain. It would do. Much like my house. Much like the meager food that was my diet. Much like my life outside work.

It would do.

The bed appeared to be clean as well, though I pulled up the sheet and checked the mattress as Jay had instructed. No bedbugs. I dropped the sheet and sat on the bed, sighing. California was an hour behind Colorado and so it was relatively early. I’d mapped out the commute, and I could make it from downtown San Francisco to where Dane worked in Silicon Valley in an hour and a half. If I hurried, maybe I’d catch him returning from lunch.

I’d wo

rn jeans and a sweater on the plane, but maybe I should dress in something a little nicer to show up at his company. Did it matter? It wasn’t really like I was there to impress him. It was a personal matter. Still, I got up and took a few minutes to freshen up, bringing my toiletry bag into the bathroom and brushing my hair and reapplying some of the makeup that had worn off during the flight.

My nerves were back, but I’d come this far. I could go a little farther. For a moment I simply stared at myself in the mirror, assessing what Dane might find different about me now. Last time he saw me I was twenty. I looked older, though my skin was still clear and smooth, and I wore my dark hair in a similar style—the straight strands just brushing my shoulder blades. I was pretty, not beautiful, and time hadn’t changed that. No, I didn’t think I’d changed that much at all really, though I saw myself every day and probably wasn’t the best judge.

What would he look like? That thought caused a shiver of trepidation to move down my spine. He’d been such a beautiful boy and I doubted even seventy years would take that from him. I pictured him as he’d been when I first met him—his eyes filled with laughter and a smile that played constantly across his beautifully shaped lips. He was a golden boy and he was very aware of that fact, but it was the humility in his eyes, the ability to laugh at himself, and his deep well of kindness that I’d fallen in love with. It was those things I’d seen in him before we’d ever spoken a word to one another. And as I remembered that first day I met him, the picture of his vibrant smile morphed into how he’d looked the last day I’d seen him in the lawyer’s office. His expression had been cold and hardened, his eyes moving away when our gazes clashed. I had deserved that hostile glare, but it had still burned like a blade slicing at the tender places inside of me.

Turning from the mirror, I sucked in a small breath. I could do this.

I didn’t have a choice.

CHAPTER TEN

Audra

I took a seat in the same chair I’d occupied the day before—the same one I’d been glued to for four tense hours, before Dane’s secretary had coldly broken the news that he wasn’t going to be back to the office after the meeting he was attending off-site after all. I recognized her voice from the phone. The gold nameplate on the edge of the counter above her desk read Valentina Bellamy, and she looked like a Bond girl. “Sorry,” she’d said with a condescending tilt of her red, glossy lips, her sleek, brunette ponytail sliding over one slim shoulder. “I’ll make sure to let him know you stopped by, hoping to meet with him.”

I wanted to scream.

I’d shown up again this morning, bright and early at nine, and though Valentina had looked startled at my repeat appearance, and I’d seen a flash of anger in her eyes, she smiled tightly and told me Dane was already in but was in a meeting and would likely be in meetings for the remainder of the day. I’d told her I would wait and had taken the same chair, ire blossoming in every cell in my body for every minute wasted. I’d spent money I didn’t have to be here and the asshole wouldn’t even take three minutes to see me?

I worked on stoking my anger because I knew just under that was an underground geyser of deep hurt, and if I didn’t stay in strict control, it would burst forth in an explosion of . . . well, I wasn’t sure because I’d never been one to explode. But I could feel it churning and the anger kept it well below the surface.

Across the room, the fish tank built into the wall bubbled and hummed in a way that would have been soothing under other circumstances. I looked at Valentina’s desk and saw her murmuring into the phone too low for me to make out what she was saying, darting a glance my way before turning her face to the side and lowering her voice even further. Was she talking to Dane?

I then heard male voices to my right where there was a hallway leading to the executive offices, I assumed. I froze as a deep laugh met my ears. Dane’s laugh. I knew it. Remembered it like an old misplaced treasure that was both beautiful but sharp, and brought a sudden surge of joy while simultaneously piercing me deeply.

I jumped to my feet at the same time Valentina rose to hers. Our eyes met—hers widened—and I rushed forward, easily able to reach the door to the hallway before she did since she had to round her desk.

Throwing the door open, I rushed into the hallway where three men were standing casually and chatting. Their conversation came to an abrupt halt and three pairs of eyes turned my way as I stopped in front of them, breathing harshly. But the only pair of eyes that I focused on were pale green and slowly filling with shock and recognition.

“Aud—”

“I’m so sorry, Mr. Townsend. She ran right past me,” Valentina said shrilly from directly behind me, shouldering me to the side as she stepped in front. I was unsteady with the impact of Dane standing right before me, so her slight bump caused me to falter and trip sideways.

Dane seemed to come out of a trance as he blinked and stepped toward me, grabbing my arms to hold me upright. For several frozen moments we simply stared at each other, his eyes washing over my face, mouth opening once as if to say something and then closing.

“I’ll call security, Mr. Townsend,” Valentina said, her voice both somehow far away, and overly shrill.

Dane broke eye contact and it caused me to release the pent-up breath I’d been holding. “What?” he asked dazedly.

“She ran right past—”