“She never filed a formal complaint. She asked me to talk to him, to make him stop…” He looks at the table as if he’s replaying the scene in his mind. “I’d only been CEO a few years. I was still fighting with my dad for control. The last thing I needed was a Marley scandal.”

  I feel the blood draining from my face. “He raped her?”

  “No.” His eyes cut to mine, and then he blinks down like he can’t hold my gaze. “God, no. I don’t think it went that far.”

  “You don’t think?” I’m on my feet, my voice growing louder.

  “There were no witnesses… It was all very unclear.”

  “It seems crystal clear to me. You protected your friend at the cost of breaking my sister. Then you destroyed her career.”

  “Jerry exaggerated. I don’t have that kind of power.” His hand flexes on the table. “I simply let her go. That’s all. I didn’t destroy her career.”

  I take a step back, giving him an incredulous look. “You made it so she couldn’t explain an eighteen-month gap on her résumé. She couldn’t use you as a reference. You could make her look crazy if she accused him publicly, if she tried to explain why she left here. You say you don’t have that power, but you know you do. You ended her professional life.” Shaking my head, I know what I have to do. “I’m leaving. When we get back to Nashville, I’m turning in my notice.”

  He’s on his feet at once, crossing the room to me, reaching for me. “Rocky, please.”

  Holding up my hand, I back away. “Don’t touch me.”

  I storm out the door before I start to cry, but he’s right on my heels, catching my arm. “Stop and let me explain…”

  My voice is savage as I jerk my arm away. “Stay away from me.” My eyes flash. “I knew you were broken. I never thought you were cruel.”

  “You’ve seen how he is.” Patton’s voice is soft, pleading. “I had to protect him. I was young—”

  “Renée was young. You were old enough to know what you were doing.” I’m looking at my phone typing in my destination address.

  “What are you doing?”

  “I’m leaving you.”

  His voice drops. “I won’t let you.”

  “You won’t let me?” My voice is a whip. My eyes flash, and that fight deep inside me rises to the surface. “That’s not your call, George.”

  My phone buzzes, and I look up to see Javier in a red Honda Civic arriving to take me to the airport, the pink Lyft logo glowing in his windshield.

  “Rocky, wait.” He tries to reach for me again, but I pull away, stepping into the car.

  “You hurt a defenseless person who came to you for help. You hurt my sister.” A tremor is in my voice, but rage is boiling away my tears. “I never want to see you again.”

  26

  Patton

  “You need to get your shit together and get back to work.” I’m standing in Marley’s living room watching him drink a Red Bull in pajama pants and a threadbare Phish tee.

  He makes a sarcastic face. “Haven’t you heard? I’m suffering from exhaustion.”

  “Don’t start that shit with me.” My voice rises, and I take a cigarette out of my pack. Lighting it, I inhale a long pull and exhale the stream of smoke slowly. “We had to say something to keep it off the gossip sites. How long do you think Hastings and Key would stick with us if they know what you did? What about Abu Dhabi? Dubai? Those guys avoid scandal like sand fleas.” I add under my breath, “Not to mention my dad.” That asshole. I don’t even want to hear what he’d have to say.

  “Well you fucked up.” He reaches for his own cigarette. “Everyone knows ‘exhaustion’ is code for drug overdose.”

  A fist of rage is in my chest. It’s been like this since I got back from Los Angeles. Rocky walked out, and it all went to hell.

  Stalking to his balcony doors, I pull them open, studying the Nashville skyline. My mind trips back to standing with her in my arms, studying the view of Los Angeles. I push that memory aside. I was a fool to think I could have her after everything that happened. She’s right. I’m broken and cruel, and I injured the only family member she has left.

  I take another long pull off my cigarette, blowing the smoke out the doors. “How’s it going with the therapist?”

  “You mean am I going to do it again?”

  As pissed as I am, what he did still hurts. Turning my back to the doors, I look directly into his eyes. “Yes. That’s what I mean.”

  He shakes his head, breaking eye contact, seeming defeated. “I don’t think so.”

  It’s not good enough. “I need you back at the office. You know Taron left.”

  “I know what Taron did.” He takes another pull off his cigarette. “I know what he wants. I hope he finds it.”

  Whatever that means. “Rocky put in her notice.”

  His head snaps up at that, and his brow furrows. “But… she was really good. Why would she do that?”

  I want to say ‘because of you,’ but that would be a lie. She left because of me, and I know it. “She has her reasons. What it amounts to is I’m short-handed, and you need to get out of this condo. Work will do you good, give you something to occupy your mind.”

  He shakes his head, exhaling a cloud of smoke. “Bring Jerry back from LA.”

  “I fired Jerry.”

  His eyebrows shoot up. “Good.”

  I’m surprised. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “It means I hated that guy. He was a conniving backstabber willing to step on anybody to get to the top.”

  “That would’ve been fucking good information to share with me.” I still haven’t figured out how he knew what happened with Renée. I didn’t even tell Taron why she resigned.

  A bitter chuckle scrapes from his throat. “You’re so focused on conquering the world, you can’t see what’s in front of your face.”

  My jaw tightens, and my patience is done. “I’m focused on taking care of my men. Everything I’ve done has been for all of us, to make us comfortable and secure.”

  “Did it ever occur to you we might not want it?”

  “No.” My voice is flat. “I expect you to be in the office in the morning. On time, in a suit, and ready to take over Taron’s job.”

  Grinding out my cigarette, I scoop up my phone and my keys and head out the door. I’m back in my office by noon, and Sandra’s at her desk, typing away. Our eyes meet, and she shakes her head.

  “She hasn’t been in all morning.”

  Glancing toward Rocky’s office, I see her lights are off, but the books and photos she brought in are still on her desk. She wouldn’t leave those behind.

  “Any hits on LA?”

  “I only put the posting on the job boards an hour ago. Give it some time.”

  “Tell me if Rock… Raquel comes in. I’d like to see her before she leaves.”

  Sandra shakes her head. “It doesn’t make any sense to me. She seemed like she really liked it here.” Hazel eyes cut up to me in accusation, but I turn and go into my office.

  Dropping into my chair, I want another cigarette. Instead, I pull up the office flowchart. I’ve lost three people in as many days. Marley is more than capable of taking over Taron’s accounts, especially with the way Taron left them.

  We could hire an intern to keep our social media presence going. Hell, it might be a better use of resources, considering how adept college kids are with that shit. Los Angeles is another story.

  Rocking back in my chair, I reflect on my solo plane trip home from the West Coast. Despite what she said, Rocky is still a smart business person.

  My mind trips further back in time, four years ago, Marley was in my office sitting on the couch confused. He told me how sweet Renée was. He told me how she liked helping little animals and she was always telling him about some cause or the other she wanted to support.

  He told me how beautiful he thought she was. He told me he couldn’t stop thinking about her. I’d never seen him act that way about any woman. Usually he treated them like they were disposable, use them and lose them. I told him to leave her alone.

  As usual, he didn’t listen.

  Not that I’m any better. I was stupid to let myself pursue Rocky the way I did. I got greedy. I was lonely, and I let my guard down. Admitting this weakness makes me angry. It makes my throat tight. I should’ve known better. Love isn’t what I do. I don’t give anyone that level of power over me…

  My phone buzzes, and I snatch up the receiver.

  “She just walked in, boss.” Sandra’s on the other end. “She’s moving fast, so don’t waste time.”

  I hang up as the last word comes out of her mouth. Straightening my coat, I take a beat before opening the door. Seeing her is like a kick in the stomach. It’s been three days since she left me in LA, and I think she’s even prettier.

  She’s wearing ripped jeans and a khaki top with beige heels, and Sandra’s right. She’s moving around her desk like the building’s on fire. I close the space between us quickly and tap lightly on her open door.

  “What?” When she looks up and sees me, her lips tighten. I think she’s clenching her jaw at me.

  “May I speak to you a moment?”

  She looks away and continues putting her few possessions in the canvas bag on her desk. “There’s nothing to say. I gave Sandra the laptop. I’ve taken all my information off it.” She reaches into her purse and pulls out a business-sized envelope. “Here’s my official letter of resignation.”

  A tremble is in her hand, and I wonder what it means. Is she nervous? Is she sad? Is this killing her as much as it is me?

  “You’re required to give two-week’s notice.” Her blue eyes flash, and I shrug. “It’s in your contract.”

  “You can figure out a way around that.”

  The last of her things are in the bag, and she pulls the straps over her shoulder. She takes a step toward the door, but I step in front of her, closing it behind me and putting my back against it.

  “Just give me a minute to run something past you.”

  “I’ve given you all the time you get from me.” My hands go up, and hers do the same. “What do you want, Patton?”

  That’s when I hear the crack in her voice, and I know. This isn’t as easy for her as she’s trying to make it seem. I might have a chance.

  “You haven’t been here long enough to quit. It won’t look good to future employers. You don’t deserve that.”

  She rocks back, crossing her arms. “You did not just say that to me.”

  “I’d like to send you to LA.” I pause a moment to let the idea sink in. “Would you be willing to take Jerry’s place launching our West Coast division? It’s a great opportunity, and it won’t hurt your résumé.”

  “It would help you, too.” Her voice is terse.

  My hands go in my pockets, and I nod. “It would help me, but it’s also helping you… And you won’t have to see me.”

  A weight is in my chest as I say it. I don’t want to send her to LA. I want her here. All of this is fucking bullshit. If she would just listen to me…

  Blinking quickly, she turns her face toward the window. Her throat moves with a swallow, and my eyes trace the line of her jaw, the sweep of her golden-brown hair, her soft neck.

  Clearing my throat, I move away from her door. “Take the week to think about it. You can let me know on Monday.” I turn the envelope in my hand and slide it into my breast pocket. “I’ll hold onto this until I hear from you.”

  She inhales slowly then cuts those pretty blue eyes to me. The freckles on her nose make her seem so young. What will it take to win her back? Is it even possible?

  “Can I go now?” Impatience is in her tone, and I step to the side, allowing her to pass.

  She leaves me in a swirl of coconut and ginger that gets caught in my throat. She’s so beautiful as she walks out the door.

  27

  Raquel

  Renée isn’t answering her phone.

  Since I got home Friday night, I’ve been pacing my small apartment trying to reach her. I spent Saturday in bed and let myself cry. Sunday, I got up and took a shower. I forced myself to walk around the block, to go to the grocery store and buy food.

  It was all I could do before it started again. I’m not sobbing crying, but I can’t stop the tears streaming down my cheeks. I don’t even know why I’m crying. He doesn’t deserve my tears.

  But my heart is broken…

  Of course, Renée isn’t answering her phone. I’ve been over here sleeping with the enemy, betraying her with every story I tell.

  At the same time… she didn’t tell me anything. She could have warned me a little better instead of just issuing cryptic suggestions. “Don’t fall for him,” she said. “He’s the devil,” she said. Really, Renée?

  I’m so frustrated, I start packing my things. Seeing Patton in the office today almost broke me. I waited until I was sure he’d be at lunch—of course, he wasn’t. It was all I could do to stay focused, to not fucking cry, to keep my hands from shaking. To act like he didn’t hurt me with his lies… his omissions.

  Dropping to sit on my couch, I put my face in my hands. Fuck these stupid tears! Why does he have to look so good? His eyes were so open and pleading asking me to go to LA. As much as I hate to admit it, he’s right about me quitting. Future employers won’t know what a conniving bastard he is. They won’t know how he destroyed the life of my sister without even looking back.

  All they’ll see is I landed a plumb job straight out of business school at one of the top firms in Nashville, then I quit less than three weeks later. They’ll think I couldn’t hack it. Or they’ll think I’m a problem employee… In any case, it’s a red flag.

  Exhaling a big sigh, I grab my suitcase and head for the door. I’m going to make Renée talk to me, and I’m going to force her to tell me the truth. I deserve to know what happened.

  It’s almost nine when I’m pulling into Savannah. Following the old, familiar roads, I wind my way down through Wilmington to my parent’s old home in the tiny neighborhood where I grew up.

  So much has changed since I was a child here. Most of the smaller, older homes are gone, replaced by million-dollar mansions and country club estates. Savannah has become a dream destination, as my sister keeps telling me, and the population is steadily growing as more people relocate closer to the coast.

  I miss the days when it would be just us kids, running around the marsh lands, playing along the old piers, fishing with cane poles… Going with my daddy to WWE matches.

  More tears are on my cheeks. I can’t help thinking how Patton had started calling me Rocky. It feels so long ago since we were in the mountains, since he held me in his arms, and all I could think was how good it felt, how much I wanted him.

  No. I push those thoughts away. He doesn’t deserve my fond memories. He lied to me the whole time. He knew what had happened to Renée, and he never said a word about it—even when I asked him point blank.

  He said he didn’t know how to tell me. Guess what? He could’ve told me the night I asked him. Shifting the car into park, I pause in front of the posh home in front of me. I have to double-check the number above the door.

  Yep, it’s my parents’ old place, but it looks… different. Good different.

  I’m out the car, and the grass is cut and the neat sidewalk runs around the front like always. But now I’m walking up new wooden steps to a pristine wrap-around porch. The exterior, which was formerly vinyl siding is now stucco, and large, dark-brown shutters line the long windows across the front, making them seem more like French doors.

  Going to the life-sized ceramic sea turtle on the corner, I pat his head. “Hi, Crush.” Then I flip him over and shake, hearing the familiar clinking of the key hidden inside him.

  When I get the front door open, I’m even more amazed. The wood floors have been redone. The wall that divided the kitchen from the formal dining room we never used has been removed, and now it has a big, open floor plan.

  Our three tiny bedrooms are still down the small hall directly across from me, but to the left, an entire room has been added with a large television and couches and chairs. Dropping my small suitcase, I walk around the new kitchen, taking a glass from the refinished cabinets and filling it with ice and water from the new Viking refrigerator.

  “Renée?” I call, but I don’t get an answer. I’m starting to get worried until I walk down the hall to my bedroom, and I hear the sound of a shower running.

  It looks like the bathroom my dad started off his and mom’s old bedroom—the one he never finished—has been finished. I go into my room, which now looks like a fancy guest room straight out of Pottery Barn and put my small suitcase on the bed.

  A card on the dresser lists the wifi address and password, which makes me frown. Now I’m not sure what’s going on here.

  Stepping into the hall again, the noise of the shower has stopped, and a voice is on the other side of the door singing “People Are Strange” by the Doors.

  That is my sister.

  Knocking on the door, I open it as I say her name, and I jump almost a mile in the air when she closes her eyes and screams bloody murder.

  She screams so loud, my ears pierce. I wind up screaming as well out of pure shock. Once we stop, I fall back against the wall, clutching my chest.

  “Jesus, Renée! You almost gave me a heart attack!”

  “I almost gave you a heart attack?” Her voice is loud, and she’s gasping, clutching a towel to her chest. She’s wearing gray sweats and a long-sleeved pink tee. Her brown hair is wet, and it’s getting her shirt wet.

  Then our eyes meet, and she starts to laugh. My nerves are completely shot and my emotions are so strung out… I start to laugh, too. We both laugh. We laugh so hard, I’m crying again, and I step forward to give her a hug, holding her a minute as she pets my head.

  She steps back, squeezing the ends of her hair with the towel. “What the heck are you doing here? Aren’t you supposed to be working? Or whatever you’re doing in Nashville these days?”