“At the most, a beer to quench my thirst, but never more
than that. It…” He shuddered from shoulders to knees. His chin dropped to his
chest and his voice cracked as he spoke. “The scene of that accident. I’ll
never forget it. Getting behind the wheel like that, all shit-faced, it’s just
not worth it.”
“I-I’m so sorry. I didn’t know about your son.”
He shrugged and let go of one of her arms. He pinched up his
right sleeve and wiped at his face. “It’s okay. How could you have known? I
made a point not to tell you.”
“But why?”
He released her, stood up. “Because I…”
She got to her feet and took a few steps back. She had to,
needed to separate one emotion from the other.
One picture.
The one in her hand.
From the other picture—the one on the tombstone.
From yet another—the sight of the man she loved, who’d
betrayed her, falling apart before her eyes.
She backed farther toward the gate. She couldn’t get close
to him again, not yet. Not with all the lies and the emotions and the picture
she still held, standing between them. If he came within reach again, she’d be
clinging to him with pity and sorrow for him, letting it all go to the wayside
all because of what she’d just witnessed. Yes, her heart bled for him and his
son, and even for Carolyn, so now wasn’t the time to discuss the photos. It
would have to wait until later, until he’d recovered from this disturbing
scene.
She shouldn’t have come. She should never have followed him.
“Britt, I’m real sorry. Tyler’s always been a painful topic
for me. I just needed time is all, but I’m working through it. I have a lot of
things to tell you, and we’ll get to it in time. I never meant to shut you out
or withhold the truth about my son or how I broke the law to protect his
mother. I-I just wasn’t ready yet.”
She nodded. “I understand.”
“You do?”
“Yes.” The urge to reach for him propelled her to step back
so she passed through the open gate and stood on the opposite side of the fence.
Her gaze flitted around him to the boy’s gravesite. “I…I’m really sorry about
your son. I thought…”
He shuffled closer and she flinched. The photo slipped from
her hand.
His gaze lowered to the snapshot where it now lay between
their feet on the sidewalk, tainting his son’s resting place. By the widening
of his eyes, by the sweat that beaded across his brow, it was apparent he knew
what it was.
He passed through the gate, knelt and picked it up. With
deliberate care, he unwadded it. His gaze rose to meet hers, and her breath
caught at the deep emotion and sorrow she saw swirling in their depths.
“You found it,” he murmured with resignation.
“I went in your office looking for a pad of paper to write
you a note. I didn’t mean to pry or nose into your stuff. When I saw it, I just
knew you’d submitted them to the magazine, so I followed you in a rage. But
now…” She stared across the peaceful, colorful churchyard, shot her stare back
to his. “I didn’t know. Now isn’t the time to discuss it. I-I should go now.”
Unable to deal with the tension any longer, she started for
her car.
Diego caught her hand. “Britt, don’t go. Please.”
She couldn’t look at him, not now with the grief in his eyes
while holding the half-naked picture of her in his son’s presence. “I have a shoot
later today. I-I need to get home, get a shower.”
He sighed and released her.
She couldn’t help but cup his smooth jaw. Britt caught the
faint scent of mown grass on him, and something about it gave her the urge to
snuggle into his big chest and forget the snapshots ever existed. Her gaze held
his, and she saw a man wrought with an overload of emotions in too short of a
timespan.
His eyes had always been the window to his soul.
“I’m so sorry, Diego. About your son.” She caressed his
cheek. While she could, she relished the smoothness of his fresh-shaven skin
against her palm. Suppressing the urge to kiss him, she added, “It must be very
difficult for both of you.”
He set his hand on hers, and she noted it was the first time
his touch had ever been cold. “Thank you. Can I see you tonight? Can we talk?”
“I…I don’t know.” She withdrew her hand and retreated. “Some
time. Maybe we should give it some time to rest before we talk again?”
His hands fisted at his sides, one filled with the photo,
the other no longer touching her. A muscle along his jaw quivered. “I don’t
need time. I need you.”
Damn him, he always had a way of saying things that took her
breath away and made her thoughts scatter. “We’ll see…”
“It’s not what you think. I did
not
send them to the
magazine. I didn’t. And this isn’t over either, Britt, do you hear me?” he
vowed as she backed along the sidewalk. “Do you hear me?”
“Yes, I do hear you. Really, I do.” With tears blurring her
vision, she spun on her heels, made her way to her car and tumbled into its
sweltering heat.
“You are not going to fucking believe this,” Lexi announced
as she burst through Britt’s door.
Britt stared at her friend for all of three seconds and went
back to curling up on the couch. She adjusted down the television volume,
knowing Lexi would compete with it in her effort to incite gossipy enthusiasm.
It had been a week since Britt had followed Diego to the
church and watched him bare all his most intimate emotions. The incident kept
playing over and over in her mind, torturing her, drawing pity from her one
moment, rage the next at what had motivated her to follow him in the first
place. She fielded waves of love at times, alternated with the fear of
rejection if she reached out to him, followed by the burn of betrayal.
But neither she nor Diego had made contact with the other.
They were in the midst of a turning point, a standoff more like and neither was
budging. Depressed and listless, she’d been forced to take a few days off work,
which wasn’t exactly what Doris had wanted to hear, especially since they’d
lost the Victoria’s deal for good due to the magazine photos.
But at the moment, Britt didn’t care about Doris or
Victoria’s or whatever drama Lexi had stormed in with. She wallowed in misery without
Diego, and had been contemplating forgiving him for submitting the pictures to
the magazine. Which made her even more miserable with self-disgust.
Her mind had been twisting out all kinds of rational
possibilities, like…maybe he’d been motivated by the fifty-thousand-dollar
prize to help pay his son’s funeral expenses, and maybe he still owed on
Carolyn’s hospital bill incurred by the wreck? She could hardly blame him for
that, and she knew she could never judge anyone in that kind of position, not having
enough money to cover all the expenses.
She could forgive him if those were his reasons. And she
could forgive herself for being fool enough to forgive him.
“What the hell’s wrong with you?” Lexi asked, climbing onto
the sofa at Britt’s feet.
Britt had been drowning in her own pity all week, ever since
Lexi had come and confessed her part in the snapshot mix-up. And Britt had
refused to confide in her friend about what had transpired with Diego after
she’d tied him up in the chair for revenge, so Lexi could only voice suspicions
as to what Britt might be moping about.
“It’s him, isn’t it?”
“I’m not feeling well. Now will you say whatever it is you
came to say, and then just go away?”
“Geez.” Her big gold eyes rounded. “Aren’t
we
on
maximum rag-patrol today? No doubt this has to do with Diego.”
Britt replied with what she hoped to be a loathing glare.
“Well then, if it has to do with him, you might be
interested to hear what I have to say.”
Britt slid her disinterested stare from the TV, which played
country videos, back to Lexi. Of all days, the station had to be promoting a
sappy, love-gone-wrong theme. For a long moment, she studied her friend’s smug
look. “What the hell are you talking about?”
“Diego.”
“I know, Diego,” she mocked, “but what about him?”
“Well, it’s not exactly about him, but—”
“Lexi.” Britt sat upright and winged a sofa pillow at her
friend. “Will you quit with the drama crap and just tell me?”
Lexi ducked, stifling a giggle. She held up a hand when
Britt went for pillow number two. “Okay, okay, okay. Hold your big-assed tits.
I’m going to tell you already.”
Britt bugged her eyes. “I’m waiting.”
“Well, here’s what happened. I decided to try and solve the
mystery of who submitted your photos to the contest and—”
Britt’s interest piqued. For the first time in a week, her
pulse picked up. “What?”
Lexi grinned, clearly enjoying her status as know-it-all.
She settled into the cushions and leaned over her folded legs. “See, through
this friend of mine at the Photography Club, I inquired if he knew of any
computer hackers.”
“Computer hackers?”
“Yes, and he just so happened to know this nerdy guy named
Laird something-or-other.” Her brows scrunched together and she got this
far-off look in her eyes. “This Laird’s a real geek, but you know, he’s kind of
cute.”
“Lexi, will you get on with it?”
“Oh yes.” The fog in her gaze cleared up as if she’d just
awakened from a daydream. “Well you see, he must be a freaking genius, because
within a couple of days he hacked into
Leather & Lace Magazine
’s
database. And all the entries were listed right there for our hungry eyes to
see.”
Britt’s heart leaped into her throat, its pounding surge
choking her. Did she want to hear this? Did she really want confirmation that
it had been Diego? If she didn’t get proof one way or the other, she wouldn’t
have to do anything more about it. She could go on with her life living in this
black hole. Or she could just forgive him while the suspicion remained, and
then try to get up the nerve to go crawling back to him.
But if it’d been him
for sure
, she’d have to nurture
her self-respect and move on without him.
Confused and a bit annoyed with herself, Britt rose and
crossed to the window. She stared down at the pool, but the frolicking and
noise didn’t even register. “I’m…not so sure I want to hear this.”
“Oh yes you do.”
She whirled around, unable to stop the tears. “Lexi, if it’s
him, I can’t bear it. I don’t want to know. I would rather go on wondering,
hoping he didn’t betray me that way. I-I love him. No matter what he did to me,
I can’t get past the fact that I love him and that somehow I’m going to try to
get him back like a fool.”
Lexi’s jaw sagged open. She clamped it shut. “Well. Well.”
“Well?” Britt swiped at tears. “Is that all you can say?”
“Uh, no. I knew you were falling in love with him—you know,
infatuation and all. But I didn’t know you ‘loved’ loved the guy.” She clapped
her hands and grinned. “How marv. I can truly say I think my best friend’s been
bitten bad. But I think she has every right to be in love. I also think she
should go for it, and get her ass down to Tampa and jump that hunky biker
before he gets away from her.”
Hope fluttered in her chest, a teasing, cruel emotion. It
seemed Lexi no longer harbored animosity toward Diego. “What…what are you
saying?”
“I’m saying it wasn’t him, Britt. The person who entered
your hot photos in the contest and stole our money wasn’t Diego.”
Britt broke out into a sob. The tears flowed over her
cheeks. “Are you serious? Do you mean it? You’re not just trying to—”
“Britt.” Lexi rose from the sofa. “I’m not joking or lying
or whatever the fuck you’re implying. This Laird genius guy got into their
records and he even printed a copy up for me. I have it right here in my
pocket.” She patted her jeans.
“Really?”
“Really.” She grinned. “Wanna see?”
“Oh, you’re damn right I want to see who made my life hell
and ruined my career.”
Lexi drew the paper from her pocket and strolled across the
room as she unfolded it. Her long, layered hair swayed around her body as she
walked. She wore a snug little T-shirt that said simply, “F-U”.
“It’s highlighted.” She thrust the paper into Britt’s
quivering hand.
Britt took a deep breath and focused on the yellowed line.
Stanley Whealer.
“Stanley Whealer, Stanley Whealer…” Britt tried to place the
name. Then it came to her. She gasped, looked up at Lexi. “Isn’t that your
store manager?”
“Yes, and actually, he’s the owner too. The fucking slimy
SOB. Can you believe it? He must’ve found the packet right where I’d left it
when our counter got slammed with customers. Apparently he’s a closet perv and
a thief. Britt, he took all fifty thousand dollars. I approached him, letting
him know in so many uncertain terms that I knew what he’d done and that he’d
better fork over some of the bucks to us or I’m going to the police.”
“You didn’t?”
“I did. And guess what the bastard said?”
She didn’t wait for Britt to guess. Lexi barreled on. “He
said if I snitched a word to anyone, he’d go to the police and have me arrested
for employee theft for developing the pictures without paying, and for using
company supplies for personal reasons while on the clock. Oh, and he found out
from login stats that I’d gotten Diego’s records. Which, as I said to you
recently, was how I found you that night when I burst in on the sex scene at
his place. I’d jotted down his address.”
The whole time Lexi chattered on, all Britt could do was
think of Diego.
He didn’t do it!
True, he’d viewed her pictures before returning them, but
now that she knew him, she could see it had been out of a genuine infatuation.
Maybe even love at first photo-sight. She could see now as clear as a Florida
sunrise that he’d been innocent all along, that his interest in her had been
genuine and pure. And even though relief flooded her soul, guilt seemed to sink
in her belly like a huge concrete block. She had to go see him, had to go and
apologize and beg for his forgiveness.
Britt rubbed her breastbone with a fist. Her heart ached
knowing all this time he’d probably been hurting over her rejection and
frustrated that she believed such a horrible thing about him. And here he’d
been going through the pain of the situation with his poor little boy, the
accident and Carolyn’s alcoholism.
“Britty, are you listening?”
She blinked, drawing herself back to Lexi’s babbling. “Yes,
yes I am.”
“So what I was saying is, I’m looking for a new job but man,
if I could get my hands on that contest dough Stan stole, I could leave the
drugstore now and start my own studio.”
“I know, Lexi, and I’m so sorry this thing has happened to
you with work. I know you need the money, so we’ll figure something out. Look,
I don’t mean to cut this short, but would you feel like going for a drive with
me?”
Lexi’s eyes lit with excitement, always game for a
spur-of-the-moment trip. “A drive? To where?”
“I-I need us to do something… I need to see Diego and
apologize.”
Lexi held up a hand. “Whoa. Wait a damn minute. I’m a kinky
girl, but not
that
kinky.”
Britt couldn’t help but chuckle. “Don’t be stupid. I mean I
need you to go shopping with me and maybe deliver something for me. Then I’ll
go see Diego by myself, you twit.”
Glee radiated across her pretty face. “Oh, sounds
mysterious. So where are we gonna go shopping?”
“Well, you see, there’s this kinky adult-toy store on the
north side of Tampa…”
“Wahoo, I’m in!” Lexi squealed, and she raced back to the
couch to pluck up her purse and give Britt a smacking kiss on her lips.
* * * * *
When the knock sounded on the door, Diego started to get up,
then he sank back into the sofa and jabbed the remote at the TV. “Fuck it,” he
grumbled to himself. “There’s no one worth getting up for anymore.”
A moment later, the rap sounded again, but this time it
pounded louder, quicker.
“Who’s there?” he barked.
“Open the fucking door, you lout. It’s Lexi.”
He sat up. “Lexi? Great.”
She pounded some more. “Yes Lexi, your best friend,” she
snickered.
Diego got to his feet, his teeth grinding together, and
crossed to the door.
“Jesus, Mansini, open the damn door up already, would you?”
She sang out her next words in a taunting tone. “Oh, yoo-hoo, I have some info
on pretty miss baby Britty…”
He yanked open the door. “What the hell is your problem? Do
you always make a habit of barging in on people at all hours of the night?”
“It’s not all hours. It’s only nine.”
Petite firecracker Lexi stood there on his covered porch in
a snug T and jeans. Her choppy hair fell in honey-and-rainbow wisps around her
pretty painted face. Would she ever decide on one hair color? He noted how the
purse slung over her shoulder seemed to dwarf her with its humongous size. And
he got the briefest charge of humor out of it.
She grinned impishly. “Hi there, handsome.”
He shifted his stance, his bare feet squeaking on the
polished hardwood floor. “What the hell’s that supposed to mean?”
She pushed her way in. Her gaze searched, appraised. “It
means I’m starting to warm up to you. Hm. Nice little love nest you got here.”
She glanced at his stereo, which took up several shelves of the entertainment
center. “Bitchin’ system too.”
With a roll of his eyes, Diego pushed the door shut and
sauntered back to the sofa. He resumed his reclined position and picked up the
remote, making a point to keep his gaze off her in as nonchalant a manner as he
could muster.
But he was dying to know what this was about.
Just knowing a connection to Britt stood right under his
roof made him crazy with hope. But it annoyed him too, and it pissed him off
that he couldn’t separate the two feelings.
“I don’t have the faintest damned idea what you’re doing
here, but it looks like I don’t have a choice in the matter. Please, make
yourself at home,” he drawled. “But you’ll be on your own—I’m in no mood to
play host. Besides, I’m about to hit the sack.”
“Oh no you’re not. Only old men go to bed at nine o’clock.”
He grumbled under his breath, slouched and scrolled the
channels, the programs not even registering in his fuzzy brain. Her fault,
because this woman had an association with the one he’d been pining over like a
pussy sap for a whole week.
Which made him long to choke Lexi’s scrawny neck for ruining
his perfectly good night of brooding.
“Oh yes I am.” He had a sleeping pill with his name on it
sitting right in his medicine cabinet waiting for him to pop it and fall into
oblivion.
She plopped onto the couch mere inches from him and started
rifling through her enormous handbag. He caught a whiff of her spicy fragrance
and wondered if she bought her perfume at the same place Britt did.