Lane
“Listen, Alan, I don’t care what you budgeted for software upgrades next year. This is my cost. Either take it or leave it, because this price isn’t going to be on the table for much longer. I have a long waiting list.” I barked into the phone, tapping an expensive pen rapidly against the arm of the chair I sat in, sick of this guy’s runaround.
But inside, I was just plain sick. And tired. Inside, I felt like the young boy I once was, afraid to risk feeling again.
I was in my office in downtown Miami, unable to appreciate the stunning sight of the bay glittering in the window behind me. My Italian leather shoes propped on the desk, I’d been making phone calls, taking out my aggressions on anyone who crossed me as my perfectly pressed jacket hung on the back of my office door.
To look at me, you would never suspect there was a brutal war raging inside me. My brain’s foot soldiers were standing guard at my heart, not allowing anyone entrance. I had fully retreated to my safe space, the four walls within which I controlled everything. For there were no loose ends when it came to my business; there I was the master of my fate, the controller of my destiny.
My office was on the fiftieth floor of the tallest office building in southern Florida, and that was where I’d spent the last few weeks. Outside my domain, my control wasn’t guaranteed. After all, I couldn’t mastermind the world. And I knew all too well what happened when there was no one in charge.
I hadn’t been home since returning from Pennsylvania. Home was where chaos only bled into the nightmares, where the sheets still reminded me of her scent, even though they’d been washed countless times.No, thank you.
“Okay, Lane,” I heard from the other end of the landline. “You drive a hard bargain, but we desperately need what you’re selling, especially since our competitor has your software. You have a deal, sir.”
You bet I do. In business, I know what the fuck I’m doing.
I was in the middle of saying, “I’m going to put you through to my assistant, so she can set up when I can come back to your property,” when my cell phone started vibrating on my desk.
Setting the landline back in the receiver, I swiped the smartphone. It was an unknown caller.
“Wrigley here,” I grumbled into my headset.
“Um, Mr. Wrigley?” a man said with a Mexican accent.
“Yeah, who is this?”
What now?
“Sorry to disturb you, sir, it’s Chaz. Um, I take care of your pool.”
“Chaz, if there’s something you need or a bill is outstanding, please call my main office number and ask for Shelly. This is my private cell.” I dropped my feet from my desk, thinking about heading down to the hotel for some lunch.
“Uh, sir. It’s not that. I’m here now at your place, taking care of some things, and there’s a girl here. A young woman who’s sitting by the front gate, with her bag by her feet.”
“What?” I stopped dead in my tracks, bracing myself against the floor-to-ceiling window facing the water, my hand chilled against the warm glass.
“A girl, sir, all wrapped up in a sweater even though it’s seventy-five degrees out. I asked her if she needed help, but she said she’d just wait for you to get home.” He paused for a moment and said in a strained voice, “I’m not prying, sir, but I noticed you haven’t been around.”
I was putting on my jacket, wrinkling it all to hell as I tried to shove my arms in the sleeves while still on the phone. “I’m coming,” was all I said as I ended the call, willing my private elevator to get me to the garage faster.
Grinding the shit out of the clutch, I shifted like a lunatic all the way home. As its tires shrieked a protest, I slammed my car into park in front of where Bess waited at the gated entrance to my home, and jumped out.
Bess got to her feet, the sun blazing down on her dark hair, casting a glow on her face as she turned it expectantly toward me.
“Bess.” “Lane.”
We spoke at the same time, cautiously closing the distance between us on the scorching Florida pavement.
“What are you doing here?” I asked, my voice sounding gruffer than I wanted.
God, I’m so tired.
Her brow crinkled, and she took a step back instead of continuing to move forward.
I held out a hand, embarrassed that I was already screwing this up. “No, I didn’t mean it like that. I’m not mad, just disappointed ... in myself. How did you get here on your own? Why are you just sitting out here by the driveway? You didn’t call?” I tried to steady my tone, tamping down my own inadequacies and anxiety.
She stood her ground, her arms wrapped tightly around her own narrow waist. “I wanted to say I was sorry, sorry for dragging you into everything with AJ and me. And, well, I wanted to thank you for when you saved my life years ago.”
