Songbird (6 page)

Five o’clock arrives, and I gratefully take my tired ass home. I pick up some take-out along the way, and after dinner is devoured, I snuggle into my favorite pajamas and curl up on the couch with a banana freezer pop. I became addicted to them during my summer vacations with my dad. After my folks got divorced, my summers were spent with Dad in Brandywine, our little hometown in the hills of East Tennessee. Mom never allowed sugary snacks in the house, but Dad insisted that kids should be kids, and his fridge was always stocked with my favorite banana freezer pops whenever I’d come to visit.

I’m dreaming about freezer pops and summer when I’m jostled awake by my cell. Afraid it’s work, I jump off the couch and grab it out of my bag.

“Callie Franklin.”

“Oh, good, you’re alive,” Lorie says. “I was beginning to wonder if Owen’s brother kidnapped you. I haven’t seen or heard from you since the reception.”

“No, I’m fine. Sorry to make you worry.”

“It’s okay, although I’m not thrilled that you ditched me.”

“Whatever,” I mumble sleepily. I can still recall the way she giggled with Owen. “I’m sure you were well taken care of in my absence.”

“I
was
.” I can practically hear her smile. “We had a good time. We’re still having it actually. We kept the room for a few days. He’s in the shower.”

“Oh, so you called to brag.”

“Not at all. I called to check on you.” Her voice grows low. “I know it was Devin who put that ugly hickey on your neck, and I saw you leave with him. You know I’m not one to fish, but I’m fishing.”

“And I’m not taking the bait. Besides, there’s nothing to tell.”

“Nothing at all?”

“Nothing beyond what happened this weekend.”

“You just don’t usually do that sort of thing, so I just wanted to make sure you were okay. And I know you were careful.”

She says it so matter-of-factly, because I’m always the responsible one.

Almost always.

“I promise I’m fine. Just sleepy. I’ll call you tomorrow. Tell Owen I said hi.”

We hang up, and I head to my bedroom. I haven’t unpacked, so I take the time to toss my dirty clothes into the hamper and empty my suitcase. I place my medications—my morning vitamin and my birth control pills—in their usual spot on my nightstand. Next to them, for no reason whatsoever, I lay the white rose and Devin’s goodbye note.

“I’m such an idiot.”

I climb into my bed for the first time since Thursday. I’d been so exhausted last night I hadn’t even made it to my bedroom before falling asleep on the sofa. Sleeping in my own bed and getting back in my regular routine is exactly what I need in order to put this weekend behind me, once and for all.

After setting the alarm on my phone, I reach for my bottle of water and my birth control pills.

My hands freeze as I glance down at the pack.

With trembling fingers, I gingerly touch the pills labeled Thursday, Friday, Saturday, and Sunday. The little white pills are there—staring right back at me and reminding me that, not only had I been reckless this weekend, but I’d also been forgetful.

Very, very forgetful.

I
straighten my tie and take one last look in the mirror. There’s enough morning sunlight shining through the window for me to get dressed without having to turn on the light. And I’m grateful, because the last thing I want to do is wake her up.

Before I leave, I glance back at Nina, who’s undeniably gorgeous with her long black hair and creamy skin. Last night’s benefit had been particularly dull, and when it was appropriate to do so, my date and I ditched the party and escaped to her hotel room. Unfortunately for Nina, my heart just wasn’t in it, and I’d fallen asleep as soon as I climbed into her bed.

She’ll probably never forgive me.

Once I’m outside, I hail a cab and give the driver my address so that I can shower and change. Thirty minutes later, I’m driving toward my law office. As I head downtown, I think about law and sex. One’s logical. The other’s physical. These are things I understand. What I don’t understand is why the sexual part of my life has suddenly become nonexistent. I noticed a difference right after Simon’s wedding. He said his vows a month ago, and since then, I couldn’t be less interested in the opposite sex.

While it’s true I enjoy spending time with gorgeous women, I’m not quite the playboy they portray in the tabloids. Sure, I’ll have my picture taken at a benefit with some beautiful woman on my arm, but more times than not, I come home alone. And that’s exactly how I want it.

When I finally reach my office, my secretary greets me with a smile.

“Good morning, Mr. McAllister.”

“Good morning, Alicia.”

Alicia is yet another beautiful, desirable woman in my life, except this woman is my employee, and I never mix business with pleasure. She’s hard-as-nails and keeps me in line, which is exactly what I need. During her initial interview last year, I accidentally called her “sweetheart.” She immediately threatened to file a sexual harassment suit against me.

Impressed, I hired her on the spot.

“Here are your messages, Mr. McAllister. You have a breakfast meeting with Gavin Hammond in the conference room at nine. Pastries are on the way, and the rest of your schedule is on your phone.”

“Thanks, Alicia.”

I head into my office, closing the door behind me. I’m grateful to have an hour before my meeting with Hammond. It’ll give me the chance to catch up on some paperwork that’s been piling up for the past few weeks thanks to my shitty attention span.

Flipping open the first manila folder on the pile, I give it a quick glance before cursing and tossing it back into the pile.

I’m completely useless.

I check my phone, answering a few texts and ignoring others. That’s when I spot a text from Owen.

Check out these pictures from the wedding. What a crazy weekend! --BigO

The first picture is of Simon with Megan’s garter between his teeth. The bastard looks so happy, and who can blame him? The bride has killer legs.

The second picture is of Lorie, the new object of my brother’s affection. Owen seems to really like her, which is unusual for him. He doesn’t like to get tied down, either.

I click on the final picture, and I gasp when bright blue eyes suddenly appear on my screen. Callie’s walking down the aisle, her long blonde hair flowing down her shoulders. Without thinking, I let my finger trail along her face.

My memory doesn’t do her justice.

For a brief moment that weekend, I thought I might actually feel something for this girl—something that went a little deeper than just sexual attraction. Luckily, she’d snapped me out of my madness when she begged me not to be sweet. Her words had been just the reality check I needed in the heat of the moment.

When I awoke in the middle of the night—with Callie wrapped in my arms—I’d felt an inexplicable urge to watch her sleep. So that’s what I did. I held her and watched her sleep until the sun rose in the Nashville sky.

She’d asked for only two things from me. Having already fulfilled one of her requests—thanks to the perfect placement of my latest hickey—I carefully climbed out of bed and scribbled a goodbye note. Sensing it needed something more, I quietly called guest services and asked for a single white rose. I placed it, along with the note, on my pillow where she’d be sure to find it.

A few days after the wedding, I met Owen for breakfast. He begged for details about the weekend. I shared just enough to shut him up. When I told him I wouldn’t be seeing her again, he seemed almost relieved, muttering something about Callie being a sweet girl and far too good for me.

After a day filled with boring-ass meetings and more paperwork, I drive home, change clothes, and immediately go for a run, hoping the exercise will help clear my head. It works, until I see another runner in the distance with a blonde ponytail. Like an idiot, I chase the woman until she stops to stretch.

I feel like a complete dumbass when I realize it’s not her.

For punishment, I make myself run another five miles. When I finally make it back to my apartment, I collapse on the couch without even taking a shower.

That night, for the first time in weeks, I don’t have one dream about blue eyes or white roses.