Rex (29 page)

“Yeah,” is all I say, staring at my coffee like it has the answer to all of life’s problems.

“Hey.” Her voice is soft. “You okay?”

“I miss Rex.” The words come out so quiet I can barely hear them, but they resonate loudly within my core.

“I know you do, sweetie.” She sets her coffee down on the table, turning to face me. “I don’t understand why you won’t agree to see him. You’re being stubborn. And if I recall correctly, you’ve said the same thing to me a time or two before.”

My throat is thick with feeling. “I’m scared.”

“Because….” She waits, and the uncertainty is clear in my tone when I answer.

“I don’t know.”

“I think you do know. Because you were falling for him. And I get it.” She giggles, pinching me playfully in the arm. “I’m in love with a Grayson, too, remember? Those Grayson boys are pretty hard to resist.”

An uneasiness washes over me, knowing that Rex had a different father, but I blink it away. “I didn’t
say
I was in love with him. We haven’t even known each other that long,” I protest.

“No. You didn’t. But you were definitely beginning to fall for him.” She stretches her head to the side, trying to catch my eyes. “Right?”

“Yes. But I’m having a hard time letting go of what he said to me. It hurt, you know? I guess I’m afraid to let myself get in deeper because I’m afraid he’ll hurt me again.”

“I don’t know what to say, V. I’m not going to blow smoke up your ass and tell you that he won’t. I have no way of knowing that. I also know that your view on relationships was tainted from the start, and that it’s hard for you to let go and forgive. But in this case, it might just be worth it. I can’t decide that for you, though.” She taps a finger against her lips. “But I do know this. You haven’t been yourself in a week. So I think that says something.” She giggles. “I just don’t know exactly what it says.”

My eyes rove to the quiet cell phone sitting on the table. It’s been several hours since Rex’s last text. I’m wondering if he’s given up on me. It’s not like he doesn’t have a million other prospects. The idea of him with anyone else gives me heartburn in the worst way.

“You willing it to ring?” Liv asks, picking it up and placing it in my hand. “You can always be the one to call.” She huffs a loud sigh. “But I know you won’t.” She glances up at the large clock on the wall. “I have to run. I have a meeting with my editor. Think about what I said, okay?”

“I will, Liv. Thanks.” I stand and walk with her past the bronze doors out into the sunshine.

“I’ll talk to you later. Oh!” she calls out with a blast of energy. “I made an appointment for us at Josie’s at eleven on Sunday morning to look at wedding dresses.” She twirls her hand whimsically in the air. “So add it to your list. And by the way, this place is gorgeous, V. Good luck with the event tomorrow night.”

“Thanks,” I reply, and she gives me a quick kiss on the cheek, taking off down the street, her brown locks dancing behind her back.

My cell phone chimes an incoming text and I jump, hoping maybe it’s Rex, but my spirits take a dive when I see that it’s Ryder.

Pick up your cell in two.

As soon as it rings, I answer it, interested to see what his cryptic message is all about. “Hey, Ryder.”

“Don’t sound so thrilled to talk to me. Should I take this to mean you haven’t gotten back together with Rex?”

“Ha! Were we ever together? I think we were just screwing, weren’t we?” I bark, earning me a dirty look from an elderly woman walking by.

“You know….” He pauses as if contemplating his next words. “I’m not into guys or anything, but Rex is good looking, and if you don’t want him, I’m sure there are a ton of other women who do.”

“Is this your idea of reverse psychology? Something that’s supposed to motivate me?”

“Did it work?” he asks, and I laugh.

“Not really. So anyway, are we set for tomorrow night?”

“Yeah. I’ll be there around five. Hang on,” he says, and I duck into a small pastry shop to grab a croissant. “Okay, so yeah, what time will you be there?”

“I’ll be there at four. Hold on a sec, Ryder.” I step up to the counter, taking a quick look at the sandwich menu. “Can I have tuna salad on a croissant please, to go?” I hold the phone back up to my ear. “Okay, so I’ll be there and Matilda will be there to help me around the same time.”

“The cute little redhead is coming to the event? Since when does she attend these things?” Ryder asks, but there’s more than just curiosity in his voice.

“Since my boss is considering her for a promotion,” I reply, paying for my food and striding out the door.

“Oh, okay.”

“Hmph. And by the way. The cute redhead is single,” I hint, waiting to see how he’ll respond.

“Good to know. Thanks, darlin’. All right. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Yup. See you then.” I end the call but proceed to scroll through my text messages, just to make sure I didn’t miss any new ones from Rex.

I didn’t.

His voice is in my head, though. I hear him calling me Blondie, feel his smile tickling my skin, the deep rumble of his chuckle. If I were an artist, I could paint it on a canvas. Beautiful, bright yellows and oranges with streaks of red. He makes me feel alive.

Maybe I should take an art class. Or maybe I should just pick up the damn phone.

A million things need to be done before we leave for the event, and what am I doing? Glancing over at my phone for the hundredth time today. I haven’t heard from Rex since his text yesterday and I don’t know why I’m surprised. For an entire week he apologized, asked me out, then apologized again. Still, I turned him down. All because of fear.

Fear is a powerful thing. It can motivate you to achieve greatness, yet it can also cripple your existence, threatening to hold you back from the very things that could actually enrich your life.

I want to take that step forward, really I do. Yet each time I lift my foot it feels unsure, shaky, worried about taking too big of a leap. Mostly, though, I don’t want to trip and fall, get a gash that’s too deep to ever heal. I’m already working through the ones I was privileged enough to receive earlier on in my life. I don’t need any more.

“Okay. The boxes are all set to go,” Tillie announces, walking into my office with a confident strut. Her hair is a waterfall of red with a dress and shoes to match.

“Wow, Tillie, you look great! That’s a lot of red.”

“Too much?” She looks down at herself, running her hands along the seam of her dress.

“Absolutely not. It suits you. You look stunning,” I compliment, watching her cheeks add more red to the ensemble as I gather up the last of my paperwork and deposit it in my briefcase.

“All right.” I scan the paper quickly. “Let me just go through this list one more time before we head out, just to be sure we have everything.” I check off the last of the items with black pen. “Okay, looks good. Let’s go.”

“I’m so excited I can hardly contain myself!” Tillie exclaims in the company car on the way over. “I still can’t believe that I’m going to get the opportunity to move up from answering the phones.”

“Why not, Tillie?” I take out the small mirror from my bag to check my lipstick. “You work hard, and you don’t just answer phones, either. You basically organize the department.” I close the compact and stow it in my purse, then turn to her. “You deserve this.”

“Thanks, Vanessa. That means a lot,” she replies, a grateful smile turning up her lips.

“Okay, so when we get there, I’m going to need you to set up the welcome table with the name cards and organize the promotion packs in the larger hall. And if you could go around and be sure we have enough chairs at all the tables that would be fantastic.”

“Absolutely.”

The car pulls up to the Clark building and we gather our things, sliding off the leather upholstery and into the late day sun. George, who heads up logistics for all the events, greets us at the door.

“Hey, Vanessa.” He rolls a cart onto the sidewalk. “A good portion of your boxes arrived this afternoon. Is this everything else?”

“Yes, it sure is. How’s the room looking?” I ask, as we accompany him through the double glass doors to the lobby.

“It looks good. It’s everything you requested, and the tables and chairs have been set up accordingly.” He motions with a hand toward the boxes on the cart. “Where do you want all this?”

“In the main ballroom would be great, thanks.”

“Okay. I’ll get to that and check in with you later. Let me know if you need anything else,” he says with a nod, taking off for the main hall.

Someone pinches me from behind and I turn around to find Ryder, complete with an enthusiastic grin. “Hey, you.”

“Hey, yourself. You ready for this?” His gaze drifts over to Tillie as he blatantly checks her out. She plays right into it, fanning her hair over her shoulder, shooting him a flirty smile.

“I am. You remember Matilda, don’t you, Ryder?” I smirk, waving my hand as if she’s on display.

“Please, call me Tillie.” She extends her hand to him and I almost keel over laughing when he brings it to his lips for a kiss. Her cheeks continue to darken, so obviously enthralled by Ryder’s charm.

“Okay!” I clap my hands together. “I’m going to make sure everything is ready.” My eyes dart from Tillie to Ryder. “Care to join me?” I ask, and feel a pang in my belly when I catch the familiar scent of sandalwood from someone passing by, instantly reminding me of Rex. That prompts me to hunt for my cell phone and check for any new texts or voicemails, exhaling a winded sigh when I discover there are none. It’s been a whole day now and I’ve heard nothing from him.

Desperately needing a distraction, I push through the doors to the main ballroom, a smile giving way when I notice it looks perfect. Round tables with white linen tablecloths and simple arrangements of exotic flowers are scattered about the room, buffet tables along the perimeter, the bar taking up the length of the far wall. There are two violinists seated toward the back that will play classical pieces during the event, something Jonathan felt adamant about and I didn’t argue.

Ryder goes to chat with the bartenders, while Tillie takes care of getting the welcome table ready for the arrival of our guests. I glance at my watch, noticing it’s only five fifteen and we’re forty-five minutes ahead of schedule.

I grab the numbered place cards from one of the boxes and begin setting them out on the tables, when someone clearing their throat garners my attention. I swivel around to find Ryder nodding his head toward the entryway, smiling.

A strange awareness prickles my skin, and as my head turns to find out the source of his amusement, I nearly lose my footing. Reclined against the doorframe in a black leather jacket, white t-shirt hanging loosely over a pair of blue jeans, and a mess of dark hair, is Rex.

It feels like it’s been raining for days, but the moment I see him, the gray morphs into a panorama of color. I want to clutch at my chest, the sheer sight of him filling the hollow space inside of me.

I will my shaky legs to move without giving out but keep my poker face on, not wanting him to know he’s getting to me. As I inch closer, I notice his hair, slightly longer in the front, making me want to reach out and smooth it to the side. It suddenly feels like an eternity since I last saw him. The smile he’s wearing soothes the ache that’s been growing since we’ve been apart.

“Hiya, Blondie,” he says in that cocky as hell way of his, eyes dancing, my heart doing a pitter-patter of its own.

“Rex. What are you doing here?” I try to keep my voice quiet, not wanting to draw any attention. “I’m working.”

“I kind of got that,” he says, “but you weren’t really responding to my messages so you left me no choice.”

“Come on.” I gesture with my head toward the hall and he follows. His scent alone makes my knees wobbly and I find myself closing my eyes briefly and inhaling him.

I walk up to the welcome table that Tillie conveniently disappears from and open the guest book. I’m fiddling with the pages when I feel Rex pressing up against me from behind, his lips in my hair. His hands remain at his sides, yet I feel him everywhere as if they were touching me, his nearness a cocoon around my body. My cheeks warm, goose bumps flare up all over my skin.

“I couldn’t let another day go by without seeing you. I miss you,” he whispers and I suck in a breath. “Tell me you don’t miss me and I’ll walk away. I swear I’ll leave you alone. You won’t ever have to see me again.”

Every ounce of my being wants to scream that I don’t, but my hearts wins out, the truth flowing endlessly like a river. “I can’t.”

“Go out with me,” he whispers again, his breath making me hot, his voice caressing the deepest part of me. The cold, dark place only he’s been able to reach.

I blow out a breath, my walls tumbling down around me, shield cracking under his persistence. Turning around, I let my eyes wander over his face; the endless brown in his eyes, the smooth edge of his brow, those full, sculptured lips, that strong jaw coated with a dusting of stubble. The face that keeps me awake at night, haunting me, daring me to live, to take a chance.