Whisper Privileges (44 page)

Chapter Thirty

What in the world was he doing
here
?

Sydney slowed. Thoughts raced through her
mind. The events were over. Clay was supposed to be in South
Carolina. He’d already given her a chance and she blew it.
Trembling limbs struggled with the steering wheel. Fear and doubt
tumbled over desire and want.
Clay is here
. Stiff and hard,
she managed to make the turn into her driveway and rolled toward
the house. Sydney watched him approach behind her in the car door
mirror.
He’s really here
.

Open the garage door, her subconscious
commanded. She glanced at him again and pressed the button. Jeans
and dark shirt, the blond of his hair shadowed brown in the dark of
night. His gait wary, Clay seemed menacing, a stranger in an empty
neighborhood. But he wasn’t a stranger. Sydney rolled her car into
the garage and turned off the ignition. He was Clay,
her...her...

A storm of mixed emotion battered as he
stopped at the rear of her car.
What was he
? What were they
going to be? Like a timid animal, she peered at his solitary figure
from the cowardice of her car’s interior. He wasn’t smiling. He
wasn’t frowning. He simply was.

Clay was here

Do something! Sydney pushed her car door open
and stood. Fear sprayed her chest. Arms and legs frayed—it was hard
to believe she could stand. But she did, face-to-face with the
subject of her fantasies, the man of her desire. Clay Rutledge was
here, in person. In the blink of memory, she recalled her despair
over missing him at the airport. But here at her house, she had her
chance.

“Hi, Sydney.”

“Hi, Clay.” Her voice cracked.

“Is it okay that I’m here?”

Of course
! Yes, yes, it was better
than okay. But she only managed a nod.

“I wanted to talk.”

Duh
. Why else would he be here? She
fumbled for her house key before realizing the interior garage door
would be unlocked. “Do you want to come in?” she asked, pulse
skittering like a flock of birds against her rib cage. She knew
what would happen if they went inside.

Clay nodded.

She pushed the car door closed, turned
abruptly and led the way in, hitting the light switch as she
passed. Cursing the shake to her hand, she balled it into a fist.
Glancing about her kitchen, Sydney considered offering him
something to drink but realized at once that would seem foolish.
This wasn’t a social call. It was a talk.

Heading for the dining room, purposefully
avoiding the couch, she dumped her purse onto the table and tried
not to dwell on his beautiful flowers, still fresh and gorgeous
from the weekend. They were too much for the vase she had stuffed
them into, but who was complaining? She turned to face Clay.
Brushing hair behind an ear, she smoothed the material of her
skirt—her short black skirt—and waited for him to begin.

He stopped several feet away from her.
“Charlie told me you quit.” He planted hands to his hips. “Is that
true?

She nodded, surprised she hadn’t considered
the connection.

“Why?”

Simple question, complicated answer. “Just
thought it was time I tried something new,” she said, but faltered
beneath his piercing gaze.

“Do you know where you’re going?”

“Not yet,” she admitted reluctantly and
grasped hold of the chair back. “But I’m ready for a change.”

Clay stared at her and a small smile worked
to soften the edge of his disposition. “Change is a good
thing.”

She nodded, picked at a spot on the floor
with the toe of her leather flat, then flipped her gaze back to
him. “How about you? I thought you were supposed to be in South
Carolina.”

“Q and my parents decided they wanted to
visit Miami Beach for a few days.”

The revelation yanked her chin in a
rubberneck gawk.
Clay was going to be in town for a few
days
? Her thoughts immediately jumped to the time they’d have
together, the extra space to figure things out—until she reminded
herself of one key point: she had given Clay no reason to believe
she was interested in space and time. But he was here. That meant
something.

“You never really answered my question last
night.”

Sydney feigned ignorance. “Huh?” But hidden
from sight, her heart punched back in rebellion.
Don’t play
games
.

“Do you or don’t you want to give us more
time?”

“Clay,” she said. “I do...”

“But—”

But
?
Was there a but
? She
stared at him and through the silence, the haze of doubt, she
wondered, where did they go next? She detoured to the table of
family photos, the front door, the couch—where she didn’t dare
linger. It was the scene of the crime, the moment she revealed
herself, allowed him to—

She cut her thoughts. She wanted to say yes,
but yes carried a barrage of consequence, good, bad, heavenly,
uncomfortable. Yes included his ex. And that’s where things became
shaky.

“Did you quit because of me?”

“No,” she blurted, instantly wishing she
could retrieve the reply as disappointment cooled his eyes. Clay
had wanted it to be because of him. He wanted it to be the sign of
her consent.

“Why then?”

“I... I...” Sydney shrank from the question.
Why did she quit again
? Better opportunity? Better shows?
Javier was sleeping with Morgan? There were a slew of reasons she
quit, but none of them sounded respectable. None sounded as worthy
as quitting for the man standing before her.

“Do you have a new job lined up?”

Their talk was beginning to feel like an
interrogation. Sydney shook her head and the enormity of what she’d
done began to sink in. No. No, she didn’t have anything lined up.
She quit her job without securing a new one. Rash and foolish,
she’d acted on impulse, on her heart’s desire as opposed to her
mind’s.
How stupid could she be
?

Clay became guarded, cagey. “What do you
want, Sydney? What are you after?”

Taken aback by the accusatory ring, she threw
up a wall of her own. “I haven’t decided yet.” She crossed her
arms. “I’m going to take it as it comes…”
Take it as it
comes
? That’s not how you manage a career—that’s how you catch
the waves! She latched on to the shell necklace around Clay’s neck
and thought,
how deceptive
. One of the first things she
noticed that first day and she assumed him a slacker, like his
buddy. Thought he preferred to surf instead of work, like Charlie
golfed, instead of worked. Sydney lifted her gaze and met Clay head
on. But the man she came to know turned out to be the farthest
thing from it. He didn’t “take it as it comes.” He had a son to
look after. Obligations. Commitments.

Clay stepped forward and Sydney tensed. “This
doesn’t sound like you.”

Because it wasn’t. But she wasn’t currently
operating out of her right mind. Shooting blind, flapping in the
wind, she was chasing fairy tales, fantasizing about life with a
man she hardly knew, ditching her job for the hope of something
better...

“I need to know what you want. I need some
direction. Some finality.”

Sydney hated the resignation she heard in his
voice. It meant he was on the verge of quitting, of giving up on
her. In the course of two weeks he had pursued her, relentlessly
chased her, caught her, held her in his arms... He’d offered
encouragement, chose optimism rather than fatalism.
And what had
she done in return
? Squashed him at every turn. From the corner
of her eye, she caught glimpse of the couch. Almost every turn.

Why? Because she was weak? Insecure? Jealous?
Her chest tightened. She could admit the truth to herself. She was
afraid that if she gave in, she’d fall in love and then he’d
realize it was all a mistake. There was someone out there better
than her. Skinnier, prettier, funnier—take your pick, didn’t
matter. The only thing that counted was that Clay would think
someone else better. In a burst of desperation, she asked, “What if
you only
think
you want this?” She hugged both arms close to
her body. “Me, us... Relationships are a whole lot easier when
you’re on vacation, Clay.”

“True.”

“So what happens when you get back to real
life and discover it was all a mistake?” She fought the urge to
quit, to back down. “That we’re wrong for each other? That it was a
fling and nothing more?”

He shrugged, cast a skeptical glance toward
her front door, the flowers on her dining table and replied, “Then
it doesn’t work out.”

All nerve shriveled at the simplicity of his
reply.
That’s it
? He’d simply walk away, no harm, no
foul?

“But what if it does?” he prompted.

It was the obvious alternative.

“What if it works out as superbly as I think
it will?” A fresh smile tugged at his mouth.

Sydney loosened the knot of her arms. He
thought it would work
that
well?

“We’ll never know if we don’t try.”

Yes, but nothing ventured, nothing lost was a
safer bet in her book.

“I’m willing to move to Miami, if that’s what
it takes.”

“You can’t move,” she rejected outright. He
had too much at stake, too much going on back home. Then she
remembered Charlie’s words.
Clay is worth millions
. She
backed away and fought the insinuation. She didn’t want him for his
money. She didn’t want him to try and buy her affection,
either—sweep in and make everything magically happen without a
struggle, like a prince courting his fair maiden, the commoner who
would swoon over his luxurious play. Something inside her hardened.
She’d had enough of men and power hungry egos. She refused to end
up beneath the controlling thumb of another man as long as she
lived. She squeezed her biceps then slapped a hand to the back of a
chair and challenged, “How could you do that, Clay? How could you
just pick up and move?”

“I can,” he replied quietly.

“You’d leave your family, your support
network?” she thrust. “You’d take Q away from all that for me?”

“If I thought it was worth it, yes. I would.
I would do whatever it took.” He paused and an adversarial gleam
lit up his gaze. “Would you?”

Match point. Do or die. Determination fired
through her. “What about Trish?”

“She’s not part of this equation.”

“She’s Q’s mother,” Sydney reminded
pointedly. “I’d say that makes her part of the equation.”

“Trish wants money and social status. The
limelight. Always has. My family has a lot of both which keeps her
coming back.”

Sydney stared at him, but had no words to
fill the space. It was the first time Clay ever mentioned money.
Well,
his
money anyway. But there it was, dangling between
them. He had the money and ability to do whatever he pleased. But
Sydney didn’t want to be bought. She wanted to be loved.

“Listen, when we divorced, her intentions
became clear,” Clay said, bitterness curling his words. “She never
wanted me for me. She wanted what I could give her. Money. Things.
The only reason I tolerate her now is because she’s Q’s mother.
It’s a fact I cannot change.”

His animosity was palpable, like he’d erase
her name from the birth certificate if he could. But still... This
wasn’t only about him and his feelings. This was about her future,
too. It was a major decision. She had to be sure.

“If it’s something you can’t live with, I’ll
understand. But in my world, I think it’s better to live like you
were dying. Go for what you want, not settle for what you get.”

Sydney’s arms fell slack. Personally, she
found the adage a depressing way to view life. She’d rather view
life in terms of unlimited potential, not limited time. What she
could
do, where she
could
go... Clay came to within a
foot of her, sending every cell in her body to high alert.

“What would be important to you, Sydney?” He
paused, the rise and fall of his chest visibly distracting. He
closed in on her. “What would you change?”

“Okay, I understand what you’re trying to get
at but—”

“Do you?” Finger to her chin, he tilted her
face up.

Every fiber of her being charged at his
touch. She could smell him, feel him. She could almost taste the
light salt to his kiss at the park, the velvet slick of his tongue
as it swiped over hers. Warm, wanting, the memory was visceral.

“Life can change in a moment, Sydney. You’re
cruising along one day and all of a sudden it can change.” He
skimmed his knuckle down to her throat. Captive within his measured
gaze, she stood immobile. “It’s not in your plan. It’s nothing you
can control. It just changes. And then you have to cope.” The noose
closed around her heart. Clay was referring to Q. His son had a
seizure. He nearly died.

What if he had
? It wasn’t his first
seizure, and may not be his last. What if he seized again, but next
time wasn’t so lucky? What if he drowned? A strangle of anguish
washed through her. She struggled to grasp the complexity of Clay’s
life, the challenges he and Q faced on a daily basis.
Could she
handle it
?

“You never know what life is going to give
you, what can turn your world upside down—in
seconds
.” He
glanced at her lips. Her pulse bolted. He lifted his gaze, leveled
it with hers. “I don’t want to spend my life wondering, Sydney. I
don’t want to play ‘what if’ about us. I want to know for sure, one
way or the other.” Clay trailed his finger down to her collarbone,
then allowed his hand to fall. “I want to know if we have what it
takes to make a good fit.”

So did she. More than anything. Thoughts of
failure slithered in, but she batted them away. What if...

What the hell if
.

Sydney never backed down from a challenge.
Not for as long as she lived had she ever walked away. Not from a
show because it was demanding, a team because they were unbeatable,
a coach because she was tough. Could that include a relationship
with no certainty? An ex-wife that may prove difficult for her?