Forever Starts Tomorrow (18 page)

There was only one way to find out. She stepped closer, the half-open door beckoning her to his personal kingdom. She owed him the truth, she thought nervously, no matter what happened next. If they were to have a shot at a life together, that was the first step in setting things right. She knocked on the door, a gesture that was ridiculous, given their relationship. She was stalling, and she knew it.

THIRTEEN

Scott's office was spacious and rather empty. Except for his desk with the state-of-the art computer and a few other electronics, the only other pieces of furniture were two wooden chairs and a modern, sleek couch, their honey-colored wood and black cushions going beautifully with the pale bamboo floor. White walls held a few black-and-white photographs, and the somber beauty of his minimalistic room was livened up by a huge jade tree with green, fleshy leaves that reminded her of perfect little ovals.

She spotted Scott, and the surroundings became irrelevant. Melanie still didn’t quite understand the way his presence shrank everything else, each and every time they met. He wasn’t even trying, she thought reproachfully.

He had been working all night. The telltale shadows on his cheeks, as well as the rather crumpled state of what must have been a nice blue shirt the previous evening, spoke for themselves. He didn’t look tired, however—quite the opposite. His tall frame emanated such vibrant energy that she felt her own body respond in kind.

‘Hi.’ Not the best opening, but it would have to do. ‘Can I talk to you, or are you very busy?’

‘Sure thing.’ He stretched, his muscles flexing under the thin fabric of his shirt. Like a panther, sleek and sinuous, he came to her, his dark eyes worried. ‘Are you OK? You look very pale.’

‘Fine,’ she croaked, annoyed with her own awkwardness. ‘Did you see the paper today?’

He did, of course. The rhetorical question slipped out before she could stop herself.

‘I’m sorry.’ Unbelievably, he was apologizing, his handsome face chagrined. ‘I cannot tell you how sorry I am for having you in the midst of this… insanity.’ Melanie was pretty sure he wanted to use a stronger word, but his old-fashioned politeness prevented him from doing so in her presence.

He hesitated briefly before lifting his hand and touching her hair, tucking one golden strand behind her earlobe. She knew how much he loved her hair; he'd told her so himself. His fingertips lingered against her skin, reluctant to break the physical contact.

‘I'm trying to figure out how it all happened, and the only conclusion is that Dolores talked to someone at that trash factory that calls itself entertainment news.’ He nodded toward his computer, where he must have been reading the article online. A screensaver had miraculously taken its place. She wasn’t sure she wanted to see it in his presence.

‘About that…’ She paused, taking a deep breath. Nobody had said it would be easy, but she would have hated to see that look of concern wiped off his face and replaced with… what? Anger, at best; she didn’t want to think about the other possibilities. He had to believe her.

Melanie tried to speak but it was impossible; the weirdest sensation was taking over. Her lips moved, yet all she heard was a loud, static noise making her think of waves crashing against the shore. She blinked, wondering where was it coming from. The loud sound made thinking almost impossible. It took her a second to realize that it was the blood rushing to her head, making an awful roaring sound as her legs turned to jelly.

The next thing she knew was that she was sitting in Scott’s lap, both of them on his couch.

‘God, you scared me.’ He sounded terrified, more so than ever before. In the seven months they were dating, never once had she seen him look so worried, even in the direst of circumstances. ‘Sweetheart, what happened?’

She told him about Eric. All of it—about the invitation to his party and her refusal. How he must have talked to Sam. How he had come over to probe her for even more information. She rambled on, aware of his arms around her, the fact that his tight grip on her never loosened, giving her courage to go on.

‘He is a rather pathetic douchebag,’ came his philosophical answer, his eyes serene. If anything, he looked less mad than before she had come into his office, which didn’t make any sense.

He must have noticed Melanie's confusion, because he smiled and kissed her nose, a swift kiss that was too short to be really enjoyed.

‘Look, I was livid, I admit that.’ He shrugged, his muscular body moving under hers. ‘I am sure that it was Dolores that approached the magazine. That would be very much her style, judging by what happened so far. She realized she couldn’t get more money from you or me, so she did the next best thing. Your ex-boyfriend’—he paused, the word 'ex' rolling on his tongue just a second too long—‘your ex-boyfriend had probably put together her story with what he got from Sam.’

‘She had no idea he’d use her like that.’ Melanie rallied to her friend’s defense, once again surprised by his smile.

‘Well, at least now she can't look at me with this murderous glance that screams disapproval every time I see her.’ He noticed her stunned expression and grinned at her, his teeth very white. ‘I’m not blind. The woman can't stand the sight of me. Now I’ll have leverage to finish this pointless feud.’

He sighed, and the smile vanished as he continued. ‘What worries me most is José and the possibility he’ll hear about all that stuff. The last thing he needs to hear is the story of our father and his failures as a parent. I have just gotten off the phone with my lawyer, and he has already been in touch with the publisher. There will be no follow-up to this mess.’

‘You should probably talk to Raoul.’ She knew she couldn’t talk about her news right then. It would be too selfish. José was the focus of his attention, and rightfully so. Taking away from it in any way just didn’t feel right. ‘He might help José until you’ve got a chance to see him.’

‘As horrible as it sounds, right now I'm glad they don’t have the Internet.’ Scott sighed, his expression somber. ‘And I'm pretty sure they don’t really read the paper. I hope he won’t be exposed to this whole thing.’

He stifled a yawn, and she was reminded of the fact he had spent his whole night working—and probably the previous one, as well. There was no stopping him, once he got his mind set on the ultimate goal. Melanie could only imagine the state the rest of his team was in. They were probably praying for him to leave the office so they could take a nap.

‘Don’t worry about anything.’ She looked up and realized he was studying her face. She was suddenly aware that she was still in his lap. It felt good to be close to him, the temptation to lean back and rest against the solid wall of his chest almost irresistible. Melanie managed to push it back as she slowly rose to her feet, hoping her wooziness had subsided. It would look rather pathetic if she fell to his feet again.

It was OK. She was still a bit wobbly, and her stomach was doing some crazy summersaults, but she was better. She congratulated herself on not eating anything before she came here, imagining her trip to the bathroom and its consequences. Scott was extremely perceptive, and he’d put two and two together in an instant.

‘I could have probably called you instead of barging in.’ She straightened her dress, smoothing down the fabric. Walking out of his office looking all wrinkled would certainly give the wrong impression to anyone she ran into on her way out. Not that it had never happened before, Melanie recalled, and she felt her face warm in instant response.

‘I'm glad you came.’ He stood up too, the crumpled shirt and tousled hair unable to take away from his charm. The man could walk around in a potato sack and still look awesome, she thought grudgingly, aware of her own shortcomings—such as, that she probably looked like a raccoon. Wearing mascara and crying her eyes out into his shirt were a definite mistake. She could see the dark smudges on the front of his blue shirt, testament to her meltdown only moments ago.

‘Seriously, I'm very glad.’ He didn’t seem to notice any of it—at least, not yet. He came to stand in front of her, his body close enough for her to inhale the scent of his skin, her nostrils greedily taking in the delicious fragrance. He had no right to smell so great after a night of hard work, she thought, her queasy stomach settling down.

‘I was about to come over anyway, once I got stuff into some kind of order around here.’ He gestured toward his desk, which was unusually messy. Scott didn’t do messy, normally. Right now, however, it was drowning in papers, and his computer and two other laptops were open and running. She glanced at the screen of his computer and swallowed hard: the picture of the two of them was his screen saver.

She stepped closer, looking at their smiling faces. She remembered when it was taken, by some tourist on the beach who'd snapped it at Scott’s request.

‘It was a good day.’ Scott’s eyes followed her gaze, and he smiled, the tiredness in his eyes fading ever so marginally. ‘We should do it again.’

Well, Melanie remembered what had happened afterwards. She thought, blushingly, of how their passionate lovemaking matched the strength of the ocean. They'd returned home, their skins still salty from the breeze, grains of sand in their hair and lingering in their clothes. They had never made it past the hallway, making love right there and then, his body urgent and demanding against hers.

‘Yes, that too.’ His lips grazed her earlobe as he leaned closer, his seductive voice lowering to a whisper. ‘Especially that, don’t you think?’

She was fighting a losing battle. Her face turned up to meet his in mute invitation. She felt his fingers close around her arms, pulling her closer to him, her whole being humming with electricity that set her ablaze.

‘Oops, sorry.’ Melanie froze in his arms, her head turning to the doorway in disbelief. Was she hallucinating? Maybe her obsession with Scott sent her over the edge after all? How otherwise could she explain seeing Vanessa, dressed in yet another of her exotic outfits, watching them with the amused smile of a mom catching her kids with their hands in the cookie jar?

‘I just wanted to run something by you before I left.’ The redheaded goddess was still there, her slim hand, decorated with what must have been a solid pound of silver and precious stones, propped decoratively against the door. ‘Sorry to interrupt.’

‘It’s fine.’ Scott must have been aware of her sudden stiffness, yet refused to recognize it. His arm was still loosely around her shoulders as he turned toward Vanessa, his face serene. ‘Melanie came to visit, and I kind of lost track of time. Sorry. I know I said I’d come by.’

What was he talking about? Melanie blinked, trying to make sense of the surreal situation. What was Vanessa doing at his work? Granted, she still looked as if she had come back from an indie music festival, her sea-green dress and jewelry not really office attire, but her face had a businesslike, focused look.

‘Yeah, that’s fine. I’ve got to run anyway—got things to do. I left all my comments with Marc; he’ll fill you in, all right?’ Silver bracelets jingled as she ran a hand through her long, red mane, her silver-tipped fingers catching the light of the morning sunshine that poured in through the glass wall. ‘Good to see you, Mel.’ A friendly smile was cast Melanie's way. Vanessa shrugged her shoulders, the movement rippling the silky fabric. Melanie stared at her with fascination, her exotic beauty and total laissez-faire attitude oddly appealing. She could see, with sudden insight, why it would it be attractive to Scott. Vanessa possessed a laid-back confidence that could bounce off anything, her inner core untouched by the comings and the goings of the world, no man, woman, or event significant enough to disturb her inner sense of peace. She walked alone and needed no one to complete her. Wasn’t that kind of Scott’s way of life, as well? Fiercely independent and strong, he let others into his life only as far as he wanted, not a step further. It was only logical that he would be drawn to someone just like him, wouldn’t it?

Melanie could sense that the other woman was genuine and really didn’t mind finding her there. Too wrapped up in her own world, she probably couldn’t have cared less about what Scott was doing.

‘Let me know if you want me to work on any changes.’ Vanessa was looking at Scott again, her eyes serious. ‘Otherwise, I think it’s pretty much wrapped up.’ She smiled at Mel, her face turning mischievous. ‘You probably know it won’t end here, right? Scott is the hardest-to-please customer I’ve ever worked with, honestly. I bet that by noon I’ll have a mile-long list of things needing improvements.’

She obviously expected that Melanie knew what she was talking about, that she was aware of her work with Scott. His explanation about his collaboration with Vanessa came to mind, and she felt a pang of guilt as she remembered her reaction. Was he telling the truth, after all? Apparently so, judging by that conversation.

Melanie barely listened to their chat, her thoughts preoccupied with her discovery. Only when she heard her name again did she look up, trying to appear engaged.

‘Well, Mel, it was good to see you again. We should do something together sometime.’ Vanessa was watching her with those incredible eyes fringed by eyelashes that were almost too long to be real. ‘Maybe after the launch, yes? If I don’t kill Scott before that, that is.’

Her pearly laughter hung in the air after she left, together with a whiff of her jasmine-scented perfume. Sweet, elegant, and sensual, it reached Melanie’s nostrils and conjured images of faraway lands.

‘She's helping with the design of our advertising campaign.’ Scott’s voice sounded concerned, as if he didn’t know how she’d react to his revelation. ‘She has done some amazing work for two companies in Asia, and I thought that since our product is mostly designed to reach those markets, it wouldn’t hurt to ask for her input.’

The thought of Vanessa working with Scott wasn’t thrilling. She was not only gorgeous, but smart enough for Scott to hire her to work on a project, too. Melanie felt miserable but was annoyed by her own pettiness. She wasn’t like that, usually. However, it didn’t help when she imagined Vanessa and Scott work through the night, almost seeing her red head and his dark one bent together over a screen. They’ve had plenty of history together, for God’s sake. Would it be so impossible to imagine the lines blurring just a bit in those early morning hours, when he was bleary-eyed from work and had his guard down? Wouldn’t he just slip back into the role of her lover as he had in the past, many times over? And after her dramatic exit, he could have felt that he had a green light to do whatever he pleased.