Snow Falls (20 page)

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Authors: Gerri Hill

Tags: #Gay & Lesbian

BOOK: Snow Falls
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“Well, you can have her if you want her,” he said, giving her permission. “I’m not really that into her. All she wanted was a ticket to the party tomorrow.” He downed the last of his drink before reaching for the bottle again. “I’d rather cruise the party anyway,” he said.

“I’m not interested,” she said.

“No? She’s got a body to die for. Did I mention her stamina?” He laughed. “God, it’s like she could go all night.”

“You’re a pig,” she said with a grin.

Arthur tapped on the door before opening it. “Charles, dessert is finished. I thought I’d bring Miss Presley around to you.”

“Of course, Arthur. Thank you.”

“I hope I’m not interrupting,” she said.

“No, of course not. Would you like a glass?” Ryan offered.

“Oh, I’d love one,” she purred.

Ryan looked up, her eyes meeting Presley’s, acknowledging the invitation she found there. To her surprise, she wasn’t at all interested. She finished her drink and put the glass on the desk.

“I’ll let you two get to it then. I’m very tired. I’ll see you in the morning.” She didn’t miss the disappointed expression on Presley’s face, but the truth was, she wasn’t tempted in the least. She was, however, a bit surprised at her reasoning. She didn’t want anything to erase the still fresh memories of Jen. She didn’t want another woman touching her, kissing her. And she didn’t want her hands on another woman.

She wanted Jen.

Chapter Thirty
 

“Yes, we’ll do an early dinner,” Jen said, making up for her missed lunch with Cheryl. “I’ll be there by six.”

She’d avoided Cheryl for two days. She’d avoided Brad as well. In fact, she hadn’t left the house. To be honest, she hadn’t done much of anything. Except replay her time with Ryan. Like an old movie reel, over and over it played. Her body still tingled when she thought of Ryan’s hands on her, touching her, bringing her alive, all of her senses buzzing, all of her wants and desires being satisfied by Ryan’s hands...and mouth.

The flame still burned. Ryan hadn’t totally doused it. She kept hoping Ryan would come back, would show up again unannounced, standing on her doorstep waiting for Jen to let her inside again.

She knew that wasn’t going to happen. Ryan had run from her. Why she ran, Jen still had no idea. She had most likely fled back home to the mountains where she felt safe. Jen had picked up the phone countless times, wanting to call Morgan, wanting to talk. But she reminded herself that Morgan was Ryan’s friend, not hers. Morgan’s loyalty was to Ryan. So she’d dealt with it alone, going from disbelief to acceptance in two days. Disbelief that she’d slept with another woman, and accepting that she wanted to do it again.

But not with just any woman.

With Ryan.

Chapter Thirty-One
 

The crowd was electric and lively, and Ryan moved through it, nodding at familiar faces, not pausing to visit. The speeches were over, and now the alcohol flowed with tuxedoed waiters making the rounds with silver trays. She deposited her champagne glass and made her way to the bar. She spied Charles doing the same with Presley right on his heels.

“Carmen gave another great speech, didn’t she?”

Ryan nodded, offering a quick smile to Presley. “She’s a pro. Mother, on the other hand, was as obnoxious as ever.”

“Scotch?”

“Sure.”

Presley still sipped from her champagne glass. She eased closer to Ryan as Charles went to the bar. “How long are you staying?”

“At the party?”

“No, here. Will you be here a few more days? I have some time. I’d love to get to know you better.”

Ryan was shocked at how forward she was, especially with Charles nearby. She looked her over, noting again how beautiful she was: flawless skin, makeup applied to perfection, blond and thin, young and energetic. If this had been last year, Ryan would have already had her in bed. But this wasn’t last year.

“I appreciate the offer,” she said, “but you should stick with Charles. Besides, I’m leaving in the morning. Early.”

“Pity. We could have had fun.”

“Fun? I guess I’m getting old then.” She leaned closer. “A quick fuck, just to get off, isn’t really fun to me anymore. If that’s all I need, I can take care of that myself.”

Presley smiled seductively. “That’s a nice visual. But surely it’s more fun if you have help with that?”

Ryan laughed. “You don’t give up, do you?”

“You intrigue me.”

“Why? You’re straight.”

She shrugged. “Yes. But I’ve had many lovers, both men and women.”

Ryan looked up as a TV camera scanned the crowd; she turned away from it, taking Presley with her. Charles returned, handing Ryan her drink.

“I see you’re as shy as ever. Why do you think they try so hard to get a shot of you?” he asked. “Me? I don’t run from them, so they don’t even bother anymore.”

“Well, I don’t want to be on the cover of some tabloid next week and have quotes made about me
by a friend of the family
,” she said. “Besides, you love being on tabloid covers.”

“Yeah, but I haven’t had any drunken encounters with tabloid reporters lately. Old news anyway.” He glanced at Presley. “I have a reputation to uphold, you know.”

She nodded and smiled. “I love bad boys.” She looked at Ryan. “And girls.”

Charles laughed. “Very subtle, Presley.”

“She’s already turned me down.”

Charles looked at Ryan questioningly, but Ryan shook her head. “As much as I’m enjoying the conversation, I think I’ll go spend some time with Carmen,” Ryan said.

“That means she’s had enough of the party and is going to sneak up to her room,” Charles said.

Ryan nodded. “Alone. See you at breakfast.”

She made her way through the throng of guests, spotting her grandmother chatting with Senator Reynolds. Instead of interrupting, she turned, threading her way across the manicured lawn and back up to the mansion.

Once in her room, she kicked off her shoes and slipped out of the designer suit, tossing it across the settee. She hated these events with a passion. She hated playing dress-up, she hated schmoozing with the rich and famous, she hated the politics involved in it all.

She took a quick shower, wanting nothing more than for the night to be over so that she could head back home. She missed Sierra and Kia. She missed Reese and Morgan. She missed the quiet of the mountains. She missed her daily hikes. She missed the sunset from the ridge.

And God, she missed Jen.

Chapter Thirty-Two
 

“You brought wine?” Cheryl asked with a grin. “What’s gotten into you?”

“I know it’s a bottle you enjoy,” Jen said. “And I may need it,” she added.

“Oh? What’s up?”

Jen shrugged. “Just need to talk.”

Cheryl nodded. “That’s what friends are for. Why don’t we go ahead and open it?” she said as she took out two wineglasses. “Turn the TV off for me, would you? I was watching the news earlier.”

Jen walked around the bar, finding the remote next to Cheryl’s recliner. Just as she was about to click it off, her eyes were drawn to the TV. She nearly dropped the remote as she fumbled with the sound.

“Catherine Ryan-Barrett made a rare public appearance, caught here chatting with her brother, Charles. Unlike the rest of the family, Catherine shuns the limelight, usually only appearing at her grandmother’s annual charity event. Her mother, Vanessa, was seen...”

“Dear God,” she murmured. “I can’t believe it.”

“What is it?” Cheryl asked, glancing at the TV. “Oh. The rich pretending to be concerned with a cause. I can’t stand her.”

“Who?”

“Vanessa Ryan-Barrett. The mother. She’s so full of herself. Thinks she’s a celebrity or something.”

Jen clicked the TV off, turning to Cheryl. “It’s...it’s her.”

“Who?”

“Ryan. It’s...Ryan.”

“What are you talking about?
Your
Ryan?”

“Yes. Catherine,” she said, the name sounding strange to her.

“The daughter? Catherine? She’s the one who rescued you?”

“Yes.” Jen looked around. “Where’s your laptop?”

“Over there. Why?”

“Because I don’t even know who she is,” she said quickly.

“The Ryan-Barrett family owns the R&B hotel chain. They also own a casino, I think.” Cheryl stared at her. “You’re a writer. How can you not know about Catherine Ryan-Barrett?”

“I just don’t,” she said as she pulled up Google. She scanned the page, trying to decide on which link to click on when she saw the word
Pulitzer
. “Seriously? A Pulitzer?” She clicked on it, then glanced at Cheryl. “What do you know about her?”

Cheryl brought over a wineglass for her, then sat down beside her. “Oh, there was some scandal about her Pulitzer. It’s been a number of years ago now.”

“Ten,” Jen said as she read the article. “
Dancing on the Moon
. She wrote it under a pseudonym. M.P. Turner.”

“That’s right. After it won a Pulitzer, her publisher leaked her real name.”

“And the book lost credibility immediately,” Jen said, quoting what she read. “Ryan-Barrett denied allegations that a ghostwriter penned the book, as did her publisher.”

“They made a fortune on the book what with all the publicity,” Cheryl said. “I would have never read it otherwise. I’m glad I did. It was very well written.”

Jen slammed the laptop closed and stared at Cheryl. “She’s a
writer
.”

Cheryl looked at her quizzically. “Yes. That’s what we’ve been talking about.”

“No. I mean, she’s a writer. A
real
writer.” She stood, angry now. “And she didn’t tell me. I’m going on and on about my silly little self-help books and she’s a
writer
,” she finished loudly.

“They’re not silly,” Cheryl insisted. “And I’m not saying that just because I work for your publisher,” she said with a grin.

“She probably thought I was an idiot.” She shook her head. “She won a Pulitzer, for God’s sake. Why wouldn’t she tell me?”

“I don’t know. You said the woman you met was a recluse. From all accounts, Catherine is very reclusive. And she didn’t tell you her real name. I’m assuming she didn’t want you to know about that part of her life.”

Jen just stared at her, finally blurting out, “I slept with her.”

Cheryl nearly spit out her wine. “
What
? When?”

Jen sat down again, her hands shaking as she took a large sip of wine. “Wednesday night. She showed up at my house.”

“And you...you slept with her? Like had sex?”

“Yes like had sex,” Jen snapped. “I’m such a fool.”

“You’re not a fool. You didn’t know who she was.”

“Why would she do that? Why would she come to my house and...God, it was so special, Cheryl. At least for me. Apparently not for her.” Jen turned away. “She left before I woke up. Left me a note. She just said she was sorry, and she hoped I didn’t hate her.”

“Did she mean like now, when you found out who she was?”

“I don’t think so. I think she meant for,” Jen smiled, “taking my virtue. That and for leaving. I don’t think she anticipated me finding out who she was.” Jen blew out her breath. “I don’t care who she is. I don’t even
know
who she is.”

“Are you in love with her?” Cheryl asked gently.

“I feel
something
, yes,” Jen admitted. And making love with Ryan, the way Ryan looked at her, she would have sworn Ryan felt something too. Maybe that was why she ran.

“What are you going to do?”

Yes, what was she going to do? Call Morgan? Drive back up to the mountains? But what if Ryan didn’t want to see her? What if all she wanted...was what Jen had already given her?

She shrugged. “I don’t know what I’m going to do.”

Chapter Thirty-Three
 

“You
slept
with her? And then you just
left
?”

Ryan nodded, almost afraid to look at Morgan. “I didn’t know what to do.”

Morgan shook her head. “How about sticking around long enough to talk about it. God, you simply amaze me.” She squatted down beside her. “Ryan, you know I love you. And I say this with the utmost affection. But you, my friend, are an idiot.” She stood. “An idiot.”

“What did I do? I went there, hoping that we could talk, catch up. The next thing I know, we’re naked and—”

“And you left. What about Jen? How do you think she felt the next morning when she woke up and you were gone? How do you think she felt when she read the lame-ass note you left? You know she’s never been with a woman before. You know how new this is for her.” Morgan shook her head again. “She probably doesn’t have anyone to talk to. She probably needed to talk about what happened. But you left.”

“I didn’t know what else to do.”

“Come on, Ryan. You had sex with her. She’s not some bimbo you met on the ski slopes. This is Jen. Why would you leave?”

“Hell, I don’t know. She may be engaged by now. I didn’t need to stick around. I know I probably already screwed up her life. I didn’t need to hang around and talk about it.”

“I swear, you are clueless. She’s not engaged.”

“How do you know?”

“Because she told me how she felt about him...what’s his name? Brad? She told me she wasn’t in love with him. She wasn’t going to marry the guy. You. You were the one she was attracted to. You. You big idiot.”

Ryan watched Morgan huff off, and she turned to Reese who hadn’t said a word. “Anything to add?”

Reese smiled. “No. I think Morgan pretty much covered it.”

“So you think I’m an idiot too?”

“All I know is, when I picked her up that day, the last thing that woman wanted was to be leaving with me.”

Ryan looked into the eyes of her friend. “I’m scared.”

Reese nodded. “Are you in love with her?”

Ryan looked away. Was she? She shrugged. “I don’t guess I’ve ever been in love before. Because I’ve never felt like this before.” She looked away, staring out into the forest behind their deck. “It was incredible. She was so...so innocent and trusting. My God, we spent hours together. It was incredible.” She took a deep breath. “And I panicked. I totally panicked. I thought, what have I done? Jen doesn’t need this in her life. Doesn’t need me. So I ran. I told myself it would be better for her, you know. It’s better if I left. She could go back to her life, I could go back to mine. You know, she’s got a life there. She’s got friends there. She’s got...
Brad
,” she said. “What do I have to offer? I’m up here. This feels like home to me. I feel alive up here.”

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