He’d been hurt, but he’d also been thoughtless and selfish and stupid that night, going back to that party without Brooke. He hadn’t even thought of the impact his actions would have on her. He hadn’t been thinking about himself either, but whatever the consequences of that were for him, he’d deal with it. But the consequences for her…fuck.
He called himself all kinds of names. He’d fucking let her down and all she’d done was be loyal and generous and caring. Trying to do the right thing. Flying all the way to Tahiti to drag his sorry ass back home to California, even though she was afraid of flying. Going to the wedding with him so he didn’t look like a big loser to his friends. Setting up all those charity events, not only for him but for the kids and the oceans. All she was doing was trying to live a life that mattered, and all he was doing was pissing his life away.
No wonder he’d been all alone when he’d won the damn competition. He deserved to be alone.
He checked his cell phone for the time. He was supposed to be at that meeting at Jackson Cole in less than half an hour. Great. Good times.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Brooke knew Dylan was in the building. She knew the big meeting had been scheduled and her stomach cramped with nerves at the thought that they might end the sponsorship deal with him. She’d talked to Tim earlier that day, and he didn’t think it would happen since Dylan had just won the Jackson Cole Pro. But still. They were dealing with Barrett there, and, well, he was a jerk.
Her gaze fell on her desk calendar and the little circle she’d drawn around last Friday’s date. She closed her eyes briefly, once more counting back the days to Tahiti, pressing a hand to her stomach, wondering…damn. What would she do if… She shook her head and got up from her desk.
She walked through the office to where she could peek from behind a cubicle partition and see into the conference room through the glass wall. She watched Dylan walk into the room and seeing him made her heart constrict. He smiled that white sexy smile, his face tanned, his dark hair hanging onto his forehead. His loose shirt hung from his broad shoulders, and he moved with that easy athletic grace she now knew so well.
She opened her eyes and watched them all take their seats and begin talking. She couldn’t hear a word, but she watched Dylan. He didn’t smile again once they began talking. He leaned forward to say something and she wished she could read lips.
Then someone came up behind her and said, “What are you doing, Brooke?”
With a jump, she made an excuse and fled back to her office, where she tried hard to distract herself with work. But that wasn’t so easily done.
Tim appeared in her door long before she thought the meeting would end. She frowned at him. “Hey. Done already?”
“Yeah.” He shook his head and lowered himself into a chair. “Okay. That didn’t go like I’d expected.”
Her nerves leaped. “What happened?” She bit her lip and curled her fingers around a pen.
“Dylan dumped us.”
She blinked. “What?”
“He dumped us. He told us he didn’t want to accept sponsorship money from a company that would treat one of its employees like they treated you.”
She could only stare at him, a buzzing noise in her ears. His words replayed in her head and still didn’t make sense. “Me?”
A smile ghosted across his mouth. “Yeah. You. Somehow he knew some things Barrett said to you.”
Her jaw dropped. “How? I haven’t even talked to him since then.”
“I don’t know how. But apparently it was true because Barrett just about had a stroke. I’ve never seen his face so red.”
“But…oh my God. Pierson was in that meeting too.” The VP of Marketing.
“Yep.”
“Oh my God,” she said again, still processing it all. “So we’re not sponsoring him anymore?”
“Nope.”
“Because of
me
?” She stood, adrenaline rushing through her veins. “Oh my God, no!”
“Yep.”
“But…but…he can’t do that.”
“He did.”
“He’s crazy!”
Tim laughed. “You know what? I don’t think so. He might be a little rash, but not crazy. And frankly…” He shrugged. “I was impressed. He also told them that he was the one who’d screwed up by going to that party that night, not you. He told them it wasn’t your fault, that he’d taken you home and dropped you off and he’d gone back to the party.”
She sank back into her chair again. She rubbed her temples. “Barrett must be so furious.”
“Yeah. That’s an understatement. He started talking about suing Dylan for breach of contract.”
“Ack!”
“I know.”
“I’m going to be fired for sure.”
“Doubtful. Dylan told them if they sued him or fired you, he’d go public with the things Barrett said to you. That was when I thought Pierson was going to have a stroke, and we were going to have to call an ambulance for both of them.”
She felt as if she was choking. She lifted a hand to her throat. “Arghrahg,” she began. She cleared her throat. She nibbled her bottom lip. Her eyes darted around the room. “What should I do?”
“Go for lunch? It’s noon.”
“Lunch? Are you kidding me?”
He grinned. “Yeah, you’re right. This has been quite the morning. We’ll go for drinks instead.”
“I can’t go out drinking! I’m about to lose my job! And what about Dylan? Oh my God. What’s he going to do?”
“He just won the Jackson Cole Pro. Pretty sure he can pick and choose from the sponsors lined up at his door now.”
“Oh.” She pressed her lips together, gazing at him. “Yeah. Maybe. Oh. Wow.” She let out a long breath and leaned back into the chair. “You know, I think I’m gonna take you up on that liquid lunch offer. Let’s go.”
Tim laughed and led the way out. They took his car.
“Where to?” he asked. “Laguna Dorada?”
“No!”
“Oookay. Breaker Café?”
“Sure.”
But when it came time to order, she hesitated. “I think I’ll have a crantini,” she said. “But without the vodka.”
“That would be cranberry juice,” the server said.
“Right.”
Tim shook his head and ordered a Bloody Mary. “
With
the vodka,” he added. “Make it a double.”
“I have to talk to Dylan,” Brooke said.
Tim pointed at her cell phone sitting on the table. “Call him. He was upset because you weren’t answering his calls.”
“Really?”
“What’s with you two, anyway?” He leaned his elbows on the table.
“Nothing.”
He lifted an eyebrow but said nothing.
She picked up her phone, found Dylan in her contacts and pushed the button to call him. Fully expecting him to not answer, when he did, her stomach did a little flip. “Dylan. Hi. It’s Brooke.”
“Brooke. Hi.” His low deep voice made her close her eyes.
“Why did you do that?” she whispered.
Silence. Did he know what she was talking about?
“Because you’re worth it,” he finally said. “And I’m not.”
“What are you talking about?”
Another pause. “I know they wanted to fire me. I know I screwed up. But it wasn’t your fault and I didn’t want you to pay the price for my mistake.”
“Oh Dylan.” She closed her eyes and the noise of the bar she and Tim sat in faded away. Her throat constricted. “You shouldn’t have done that. We were your biggest sponsor.”
“Yeah. I know. But I had to.”
“How did you know?”
“That doesn’t matter. I’m glad you called. I wanted to talk to you before I go.”
Her throat closed up. “You’re leaving?”
“Yeah. I fly out tomorrow. I just wanted to say thank you for everything you did. I know you put your job on the line for me. I know it was your idea to sponsor me, and I feel like crap that I made that so painful for you. Before I’d even met you, I was acting like a spoiled selfish jerk and you were trying to save my butt. So thank you, for that, and for introducing me to those great charities. It felt good helping them.”
“You still can,” she whispered, her voice thick, her eyes burning. She covered her eyes with her hand, her elbow on the table.
“Yeah, I know. I think I will.”
Her throat ached so much she couldn’t talk. Her lips pushed out helplessly. He was leaving. She tried to swallow. Tried again. “Dylan.”
“Don’t let them treat you like that,” he said. “Stand up for yourself. Like I said, you’re worth it. You hear me?”
She nodded, which was ridiculous because he couldn’t see her. A tear dropped onto the polished wood table.
“’Bye, Brooke.” And then the phone went dead.
She stayed like that for long moments, the phone to her ear, her hand over her eyes, trying to get her emotions under control. She hadn’t congratulated him on winning. She hadn’t told him that her period was late. And that made her throat hurt even more.
When she could get air into her constricted esophagus and down into her lungs, she licked her lips and lowered her hand. She clicked off her phone and gave Tim a smile.
“You okay?” he asked, leaning forward, eyebrows drawn together above his nose.
“Oh yeah. Of course. Well, not really. But yeah.”
His eyebrows lifted. “It’s good you’re sure.”
“Let’s go. We’d better get back to the office.”
Back in Tim’s car heading toward the office, she reached for the knob of the radio and turned it on, wanting some music to drown out the silence and the ache throbbing in her chest. Then she leaned her head back into the seat and listened to Maroon 5 while she stared out the window at passing traffic.
What had Dylan done? He’d killed her, that was what. God. What kind of crazy gesture had that been, going into that meeting and taking a stand like that? She pressed a hand to her chest where it ached.
But he was leaving.
Of course he was leaving. She’d known all along he would leave. That was his life. But dammit, once more she was reminded that deep inside he was a good man. And her words to Corey and Matt returned to her, how he was so self-absorbed he didn’t even realize he’d done something wrong. God. He sure knew how to make up for it when he screwed up.
He may have saved her job. Maybe not. Who knew how Barrett was going to take to being humiliated like that. But Dylan’s threat was real, and after what he’d done that morning, giving up such a lucrative deal on principle, there couldn’t be anyone who thought he wouldn’t make good on that threat.
Another tear slid down her cheek.
She’d have to give some serious thought to whether she wanted to stay at Jackson Cole. God, if Dylan could take a stand like that, she should be able to too. Those things Barrett had said to her were unacceptable.
Maybe Dylan had saved her job for nothing. Maybe she’d quit. Wouldn’t that be funny? A hysterical sob rose in the back of her throat.
Quit and do what, exactly?
Don’t be hasty
, she told herself, swiping fingertips across her wet cheek. God, Tim probably thought she was a nutbar, crying like this.
“And in breakings news,” the radio announcer spoke, Adam Levine done singing, “there are unconfirmed reports that drug tests have revealed ASP champion surfer Dylan Schell may have consumed banned substances prior to competing and winning yesterday’s Jackson Cole Pro.”
Brooke lurched forward in her seat. Her head whipped around to look at Tim. “Did you hear that?”
“Yeah.”
She stared at his frowning profile. “Did they just say what I think they said?”
“They did say
unconfirmed
reports.”
“Oh holy hobbling Christ on a crutch.”
Sitting in his hotel room, Dylan ended the call with Brooke. His face felt tight, his belly muscles rigid, a feeling of pressure building inside him. He was glad she’d called so he’d had the chance to say thank you, but he was kind of embarrassed she’d found out about what he’d done so quickly. He’d thought maybe he’d be gone before she found out.
She’d probably give him shit and call him crazy for throwing in the towel on the sponsorship deal that she’d worked so hard to salvage. Now it was all for nothing. He still wasn’t sure if he’d done anything good, or if it had just been another stupid screw up. But he felt better. So it had to be kinda good. Maybe. Sort of.
He tossed the phone on the bed, but as it landed, it rang. He frowned and reached for it. Brooke calling back maybe?
But no. It was Holden. Jesus, what now?
He hadn’t told Holden what he was going to do, and although Holden had sat there nodding and supportive during the meeting, afterward the guy had been irate that he hadn’t known. How could Dylan have told him though, when he’d had no idea until he sat in that meeting what he had to do? He’d tried to explain things to Holden after the meeting. Holden had nodded stiffly and told him he’d have to think about whether he could continue to represent him. Fuck it. Now he was really on his own. The only people he hadn’t alienated were Elroy and Brett.
So what was Holden calling about? To finish things off? He answered the call.
“Where are you?” Holden immediately demanded.
“I’m in the middle of a drunken orgy,” Dylan said. “With twenty-seven girls.”
“Shut the fuck up, this is no time for jokes. Where are you?”
Jesus. “In my hotel room.”
“Alone?”
Dylan sighed and shoved his hair back. “Yes. Alone.” Hadn’t he just been reflecting that he was pretty much alone in the world? Boo hoo.
“I’m on my way. Don’t move.”
Ooookay. Dylan gave the phone a look and tossed it back onto the bed. Guess this was happening now.
The banging on the door moments later told him Holden hadn’t been very far away when he’d called. He opened the door and Holden burst in. His hair was loose from its usual ponytail as if he’d run his hands through it, and his eyes blazed.
“Sit down,” he bit out. “You’re going to want to be sitting for this.”
Dylan made a face and sat on the side of the bed. He held his arms out at his side. “I’m sitting.”
“Were you smoking dope this week?”
Dylan’s head jerked back. “What? No. I’ve barely even had a beer all week.”
“Are you sure? Are you being honest with me?”
“What’s going on, Holden?” Dylan’s heart started thudding against his ribs.