Remembering Everly (Lost & Found #2) (5 page)

BOOK: Remembering Everly (Lost & Found #2)
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My heart tightened a little as I fought off the pain. Brick had reminded me it would never stop hurting. He was right. Some days, it only hurt a little—barely enough to notice. Other days, I’d agonize over what I’d done, where I’d gone wrong. Those days, sometimes it hurt to breathe.

It made me second-guess everything.

“Hey, the earthquake,” I said, “You never called me. Where you okay?”

Obviously he was fine since he was lying beside me, but as I remembered watching the coffee shop patrons call their loved ones, I realized I’d never once reached for my own phone.

And Ryan hadn’t reached for his.

Wasn’t there something to be said about that?

“It was such a small one, I figured if you needed me, you’d call,” he shrugged, pushing off the bed. I watched him walk down the hallway toward the kitchen and wondered.

If the end of the world came, would I be the one he reached out for?

I
t was nearing eight long hours at the office, and I was currently waiting for my sixth—possibly seventh—cup of coffee to brew in the break room.

When I’d returned back to this hellhole, Cheryl had practically begged to do this simple task for me, saying it was a secretary’s pride and duty to make her boss’s coffee throughout the day, but she didn’t understand the significance this richly scented drink held for me.

It was in these few silent moments, when the single serve fancy coffee pot in the break room would gurgle out my java, that I’d let my mind wander back to those precious few weeks when I’d had everything. When life was simple and easy, and coffee was made in the morning by the only woman who’d ever managed to steal my heart.

Now it just tasted like watered-down tar. It didn’t matter who made it, or where I went to buy it; nothing would ever be the same and this simple cup of coffee was just a physical reminder of her absence in my life. And of all the ways I’d failed.

Leaning back against the counter, I slowly sipped my coffee, letting the caffeine do its work as I surveyed the office through the broad windows that opened out onto the lobby. Trent was busy flirting with his secretary.

Again.

A faint blush stained her cheeks as she held back a laugh. His infectious personality was overwhelming and soon she couldn’t contain herself, and the entire office space was filled with her melodic giggles. He said people couldn’t stand him, and that was mostly true—except for women. He seemed to have a power over women that was electric and powerful. It unnerved me.

I watched him closely, knowing his attention was elsewhere.

I’d dreamed about him last night, another memory to add to the growing pile. Much like Trent’s secretary, I’d fallen prey to the charms and false promises of my long-time friend and partner. My former self had once believed he could make or do anything—and I took everything he said as truth. A mistake I would regret to this very day.

“A toast to August!” Trent hollered with enthusiasm, thrusting his champagne flute high in the air. Feeling mightier than a fucking oak tree at that particular moment, I joined in, seeing Everly do the same right next to me.

“To August!” she parroted, her eyes full of pride.

Several diners from other tables looked over with a mixture of annoyance and curiosity, but we just carried on, still high from my success.

My first big deal.

I’d been a stock broker for years now, doing my due diligence, working my way up in hopes that one day I’d finally make something of myself. Randomly running into my old buddy Trent from college had been the best accident of my life. He’d shown me a way to the top, without the wait.

Now I was making deals I’d once only dreamed of. And I was a partner of my own firm.

“Hey,” I said, turning to Everly, my eyes wide with excitement. “I got you something.”

She watched as I pulled a long blue velvet jewelry box from under the table.

“You know I don’t expect anything. Tonight is about you!”

“I know, but I couldn’t help it. I wanted to show you how much you mean to me,” I explained, antsy for her to open the gift I’d picked out for her. In all our time together, I’d never been able to go to a store and shop for something so extravagant. It was exhilarating and addictive. I couldn’t wait to cover her in jewels and fine things.

A small gasp escaped her throat as the lid popped open and her gaze locked with the beaded necklace.

“Oh August—it’s gorgeous.”

“They’re emeralds,” I explained as her fingers brushed over the smooth round stones. “I saw it and just knew it would be spectacular on you.”

Her eyes glistened as she looked up at me. “I don’t know what to say.”

“Say you like it,” I smiled. I pulled the necklace out of the box and slowly placed it on her smooth, porcelain skin.

“I love it,” she answered, leaning forward to kiss my lips.

As she pulled away, the tiny stones from her necklace almost seemed to wink at me, catching light from above as she turned.

Trent, silently watching our exchange, just smiled and looked at me with hungry eyes. “You ready for more?” he asked.

“Yes,” I answered, catching Everly’s happy smile once again. The smile I’d put there. I was hooked now.

“Let’s make more money.”

He was exactly what he needed to be when the time called for it—completely malleable for every unique situation. He’d used me to do his bidding—just like everyone else. Like now, he was the charming boss, who made his secretary feel at ease and secure in her position. When the time arose and he needed her to do something questionable, she would, without question. Why? Because she trusted him.

Even though he probably couldn’t remember the woman’s last name or anything about her. Alice Towers had been working for us since we’d opened. She was middle-aged, had two teenaged sons, and loved the Giants. She also had an epic-sized crush on her boss. That last tidbit was the only piece of information Trent cared about and he used it to his advantage, playing off her emotions to get her to do everything and anything without knowing why.

This was what Trent did. He wooed people into giving him what he wanted, and then he walked away. But like I said, wealthy men tended to be that way because they were smart, and they could sniff out Trent and his crooked ways in seconds.

Me and my honest face—we legitimized him. We gave him credit.

And I hated the fact that it was all just another fucking lie.

Everything Trent touched became tainted. He was on a destructive path to disaster, and it was just a matter of time before every single one of us in this office was sitting behind bars for the crimes we’d committed because of this man.

How many others would suffer the same fate? Or worse?

*  *  *

I was like a cannon ready to explode as I raced home that evening.

Caffeine and a shitload of anxiety raced through my system as I pulled the car into the garage and jumped out, knowing I was already running late for my date with Magnolia.

I couldn’t screw this up.

Not now that Trent knew.

Alice laughed at his jokes while Cheryl showed him pictures of her grandkids. Brick told me I should have let Everly know what had happened between Trent and me. He thought I was being overly paranoid.

No one else saw it, but I did.

Trent was dangerous. I could see it in his eyes, feel it in my bones, and damn if I was going to let him ruin anyone else’s life on my account.

Quickly stepping into the garage and unlocking the door, I ran inside, pulling my tie off as I went. Taking the stairs two at a time, I had every intention of making it to the bathroom for a quick shower. But my feet had other plans. My toe hit the edge of one of the last steps, and as gracefully as a six-foot man can go, I fell, collapsing onto the stairs with a loud, audible bang.

As I went, the stars and blurs began and by the time I hit, I knew I was falling—not just to the ground, but out of time.

Back into a memory.

“Ah fuck—” I mumbled as the lights went out.

*  *  *

Must get home.

Driving like a bat out of hell, those were the only words that repeated over and over in my head as I swerved through traffic, trying to maintain my erratic, high speed down the freeway.

Must get home.

Raw, deep, unbridled fear coursed through my veins as I barreled down the streets trying to get to her.

God, what have I done?

I need her to be ready to go.

Taking a deep breath, I tried to calm my shaking nerves as I pressed the speed dial on my phone. She answered almost immediately. She sounded sad. How long had she sounded that way?

It didn’t matter.

None of it mattered after tonight.

“Hey, gorgeous,” I greeted her cheerfully. That piqued her interest.

“Hi,” she answered, her mood sounding slightly lifted.

“I was thinking tonight would be the perfect night out. Just the two of us?”

Silence followed, and I waited. My heart pounded in my chest, fearing she’d already seen through my lie.

“Really?” she replied, her breathy voice filled with glee.

“Really. Can you be ready in thirty minutes?”

“Absolutely!” she squealed, the excitement palpable over the airwaves.

“Fantastic. I’ll see you soon.”

“Okay, sounds great!”

“Oh, and Everly,” I said quickly, before she hung up the phone, “I love you.”

I could feel her smile from across the city.

“I love you too.”

The line went dead and I was alone again. The fear and regret came rushing back like a flood. As I pulled off the freeway, I passed a row of houses. They were simple and well kept. A flower box sat perched on one of the windowsills, reminding me of the days when something so simple use to bring us so much joy.

When did it all change?

Driving farther, I noticed the houses becoming larger. Everything became more grand and outrageous until I pulled into the house that was ours.

The one I’d given to her with a giant red bow wrapped around the front.

She’d never asked for it, but I’d given it anyway.

I’d have given her the moon if I could. But somehow, I had lost my way and in the process of giving her the world, I’d neglected the one person that had given me everything.

Tonight, I would make it right.

Tonight, I would tell her everything.

Coming back to reality, I rubbed my sore limbs and head and pushed myself up off the floor. Frustration replaced every other emotion I’d once had as I replayed the memory in my head.

What was I going to tell her?

I could only recall the intense need to get home to her and finally lay everything out on the table. But why couldn’t I remember what that was?

Would I have left any clues?

Suddenly remembering piles of paperwork on the desk I had yet to sort through, I raced back down the steps, careful not to fall this time, and made my way to the darkroom that had once been my home office.

When I’d decided to transform this into a darkroom I hadn’t worked through the details all that well. Basically I’d just shoved everything that had been in the room to the outside corners and set up my makeshift table in the center. I’d had plans to go back and do everything properly at a later date, but obviously life had taken a turn and my days in the darkroom had dwindled to next to nothing.

I had no desire to be in here anymore—not when there wasn’t anything left to photograph.

I tried not to look at the dusty equipment, reminders of Everly walking around in this space—haunting me as I pushed past everything to make my way to the large desk in the corner. I’d covered the heavy wood top with a white sheet to protect it from any chemicals that might contact it from the print processing.

I may not have been much into the home office, but it didn’t mean I couldn’t appreciate fine furniture.

Lifting the sheet, I found everything exactly where it had been left. I’d once taken a stack of bills in here, trying on the room for fit, but decided I hated the drafty place. Now, I paid bills over morning coffee out on the deck.

It was much less dreary and the view was a hell of a lot better.

I spent enough of my life seated at a desk.

Sitting on the edge of the desk, I picked up a stack of old papers and began rifling through them, not sure what I was looking for, but sure I needed answers.

I went through everything twice.

Nothing.

Just old party invitations, bank statements, and other junk mail. Nothing that had a big red arrow on it that screamed, “This is what you’re looking for, August!”

I shook my head as it fell into my palms.

There was a time when I’d wanted nothing more than to have every minute of my life back—to swim in the stream of my own consciousness.

But now that it was a reality, that old saying about the grass being greener was definitely starting to bite me in the ass. My head was constantly swirling. I never knew when a memory would come and when one did, half the time it didn’t make sense. One day I’d have a flashback from childhood—something random like a trip to the grocery store with my mom. Two days later, I’d remember opening my locker in high school or going to lunch with Everly.

It was as if my life was an endless roll of film, and someone had come along, spliced it all up and tossed it to the floor. Now every film cell, or memory, was out of order. I didn’t understand how they all fit and I was beginning to fear I might never put them all back together again.

I needed answers. I needed everything lined up in a nice neat row so I could see the timeline of my life and understand the barrage of memories that kept assailing me. Nothing made sense. Hell, I still barely understood the job I went to on a daily basis. A few memories of a financing class would be helpful.

Part of me still held out hope that if I could just shuffle through the right memories and find the clues I needed to somehow get out from under Trent’s tight grasp, everything could go back to the way it was.

Everly could be mine again.

But she wasn’t.

She’d chosen someone else, and there wasn’t a damn thing I could do about that.

*  *  *

I was over an hour late when I pulled out of my driveway in a rush and headed for Magnolia’s high-rise apartment downtown.

She’d already left two voicemails and several text messages. I hadn’t responded to either.

This level of groveling needed to be done in person.

She’d invited me over for a casual night at her place tonight. With the promise of a cooked meal and a movie, she’d reinforced that her five-date rule was back in full force and we were definitely starting over from the very beginning.

BOOK: Remembering Everly (Lost & Found #2)
2.25Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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