Once And Forever: Virtually Impossible Part 27

Time? No. I'd already wasted too much of that. "I thought you understood. My marriage was over before it began. It should've never happened. I've had years of waiting to start a new relationship, a real one, an honest one." It was hard to speak because it was hard to breathe. My chest, my gut, too tight for air to pa.s.s through.

She wasn't supposed to do this. She was supposed to be my chance, my life. My body held on to my breath as my mind realized everything else was slipping away. "I've waited so long for this already. I thought I was beginning again."

"You are. You'll find a new job and can have any life you want. And I'm really happy for you."

"How about being happy with me?"

"I...I can't. It's not right."

"Stop saying that!" I shouted. "Clare and I aren't together. We've never been together in anything other than name." On a piece of paper, a commitment held together by loyalty, not love.

"I can't."

"If it's a matter of you not believing me, I could send you proof. A note, maybe."

"From your mom? 'I give my son permission to get into your pants?'"

I cursed. "This isn't about getting in your pants. Why would you say that?" How could she say that? "I don't know how else to prove to you that my marriage is over. I want-"

"To give me a note from your wife." She laughed.

"Stop! It's not funny. It's just making the situation even more confusing."

"That's because this is so insane. So stupid. You don't even know me, Hayden."

"Not everything, obviously. But I know enough to know I want to get to know you."

"Wow, there were a lot of 'no's' in that sentence."

I sighed. "All I want is a chance to see if it would work. It's a few dinners out, not a proposal."

"Of course, it's not. Because you're already married!"

I bit down hard, not understanding why she said she believed me but still used it as an excuse. Why she needed an excuse. "I get that you're having trouble taking my word for it. I do. It probably happens all the time to you-men you work for wanting more and lying to get it. But this doesn't happen to me. Ever. I don't know how else to convince you. What can I say to prove I'm telling you the truth?"

"Why are you shouting at me?"

"Because you infuriate me, and I'm not used to people doubting my word"-my voice trailed off-"and I want this so badly."

"I shouldn't have slept with you, Hayden. It shouldn't have happened. It was unfair to you, and I'm sorry."

"Then you're sorry for giving me the best night of my life." I waited, listening to her shallow breaths but not knowing what else to say. After a few seconds, it stopped. No, it hadn't stopped, it had just continued somewhere I couldn't hear.

She'd hung up on me! d.a.m.n it, she actually hung up on me. I stopped myself from hurling my phone across the room just in time.

Yes, I was being unreasonable and demanding and acting like a total child. But I was so far out of my element, I didn't remember where my element was.

I was being a complete idiot. An obsessed idiot. But if she wasn't so- Another breath, deeper this time. She'd slept with me, not committed the rest of her life to me. Even if it had meant more to me than to her, I knew she didn't think it was a mistake. We fit too well to be a mistake. There was nothing holding us back now.

I needed to think, be rational, figure out why she was still fighting it. Step back and treat this with the same kind of logic I would any business negotiation. Because it was a negotiation at its core. And if I ever acted this way in a boardroom, my a.s.s would be out on the street before my coffee got cold. Don't be an idiot. I'd never been this desperate for anything in my life, and desperation is hardly an attractive attribute.

In a deal... Who was I kidding? If this were a deal, I'd have already given up, have been out the door and working on something else. But there was nothing else. This was the biggest deal of my life, and I couldn't lose it.

Think, you idiot. Do what you're good at. Objectivity. When the other party holds most-if not all-the cards, you don't allow them to stay angry. Anger breeds resentment. Resentment is an impossible hurdle, an unscalable wall. I picked up my phone and quickly dialed her number. Which I knew by heart because I was a complete idiot.

When the ringtone stopped, I knew she'd answered, but she didn't say anything.

"I'm sorry," I said calmly. "I didn't mean to yell at you. I need this to work, so tell me what I have to do to make it happen."

"It won't. Because I screw everything up." Her voice was small, weak-sounding. "Even if it's as good as I think it would be...if we were together, I'd screw it up."

"Prove it."

"What?"

"If you're so sure you'll screw it up, then I want proof. A week. No, a month. Be with me for a month and let me see firsthand how you screw it up."

"I know what you're trying to do, but I think it would be worse."

"Worse than this?" I shouted, frustrated beyond my breaking point. "You think anything could be worse than this?" All I heard was a m.u.f.fled hiccupping breath. Oh s.h.i.t. I'd made her cry. "Sara? I'm sorry." Still no answer. "Sara?"

"That's not my name," she said softly.

"What?"

"My name is not Sara."

"I...I don't understand." I looked at my phone, even more confused than I was a moment ago, which shouldn't have been possible.

"My name isn't Sara. It's a fake name for a fake person. You want a fake person, Hayden. Not me."

"We need to talk about this."

"I'm not a good person. You deserve better." And then the line went dead.

I sat back in my chair and scrubbed my forehead with my hands. I didn't understand. Not a single thing. I was so sick of people telling me what I deserved. I deserved a great career, a great life, a great love. Really? If I was so f.u.c.king deserving, then why the h.e.l.l was I sitting alone in a room with nothing?

Clare knocked on the door and then stuck her head in. "Shannon and I are going out for more champagne. Do you want anything?" Then she rushed forward, her face full of concern. "Hayden, what's wrong?" I shook my head, unable to speak. She knelt down in front of me, her hands on my thighs. "Hayden? What happened? Are you okay?"

Confusion had numbed my mind, but I could still feel the pain everywhere else.

"Oh, baby. What happened?" She pulled her sleeve over her hand and wiped my cheeks and just under my eyes. "It'll be okay."

"I'm...fine, Clare." I pushed her away. "Everything is fine."

What a lie. Fine meant nothing. And nothing would ever be better than fine.

35.

Hayden Clare left me alone for the rest of the night, bringing me food I didn't touch and drinks I downed as soon as they were in my hand. I was no better in the morning, only getting out of bed because I had to answer the d.a.m.n door buzzer that wouldn't shut up. I dragged myself to the door, wondering where Clare had gone this early. Maybe she'd forgotten her key?

I woke up as soon as I opened the door and saw Officer Williams standing there, his hands in his pockets.

"Glad to see you again, Hayden."

"And with pants on this time." Pajama pants I had every intention of living in until my life came back into focus again. If it never happened at least I'd be buried in something comfortable.

"Yeah, that's a definite upgrade." Williams laughed. "Sorry about that interruption. And this one."

"No problem." I shook his hand, knowing it was too much of a coincidence that I was seeing him twice in the same number of days. "Been a long time. Should I call you Detective Williams now?"

"'Williams' works, just like it used to."

"Alright." I nodded. "Anything I can help you with?"

"The woman from the other day..." He hesitated, maybe wondering how well I knew her. Although, maybe I just a.s.sumed that because I was wondering the same thing.

"I think I'm in love with her." Oh, s.h.i.t. Since when did my mouth stop running ideas past my brain before sharing with veritable strangers?

"She's in a lot of trouble, Hayden, and I don't know if she'll be able to handle it by herself. How much has she told you?"

I hesitated, my mind overwhelmed as it sorted through all our conversations, looking for any hint that she was in trouble with the police. s.h.i.t, all it came up with was...nothing.

"She didn't tell me anything. What's going on?"

His raised an eyebrow. "I should probably let you talk to Andi first then."

"Who?"

"Oh, jeez, I'm sorry." He shook his head, turning to leave. "I thought-"

"Wait, please. Whatever is going on, I want to know." It would be a nice change. "I'd like to hear it from you-less chance of getting the facts wrong."

He nodded warily and then followed me through the apartment into the living room. I offered him coffee while pouring some for myself. He refused the splash of bourbon I added to mine, so I helped myself to his share and took the chair opposite his.

"When I saw you with Andi..." He continued the sentence, but it took me a moment to follow. He saw me with Andi? Did he mean Sira?

It hit me.

Oh s.h.i.t. When she'd told me Sira wasn't her real name, and I'd a.s.sumed she was referring to the nickname, I'd a.s.sumed wrong and hadn't let her finish. So her name was Andi. And that wasn't the only thing she hadn't told me. I rubbed my neck when I felt it heat, but anger wasn't relieved so easily. We'd slept together, had talked all night, and she'd never thought to give me her real name.

Wow. "Sorry," I said, raising my hand. "Can you start over? I lost focus for a second there."

He took a sip of his drink and set it down on the table between us. "Are you really in love with her?"

"I thought I was." No, that wasn't right. Despite the new feeling of distrust, that emotion hadn't gone away. "But I'm just now finding out that there's a whole lot she hasn't told me about herself."

"Have you told her everything about you?" His question was vague, but we both knew exactly what he was referring to.

"No."

On the last night of my spring break from boarding school, my father had been particularly unhappy with me for a reason I can't even remember. At some point during my punishment, Carson had called the police. Until that point, my parents had been able to control everyone who suspected what was going on inside our home.

Williams and his partner came to our house and interviewed us. The happy Bennett family. All four of us telling the same lie, my father standing behind me, digging his fingers into my shoulders and my mother's arms wrapped around Carson as she whispered G.o.d knows what into his ear.

'I'd never lay a hand on them,' my father had said. 'Boys just get a little rowdy from time to time.' As if the visible marks on my skin had been caused by my terrified little brother and not by a man who knew exactly when to hide his rage and when to unleash it.

Williams had stopped by again the next day on his own time and in plain clothes while my father was at work and I was packing to go back to school. He'd told me he could protect me if I told him the truth. But I couldn't. Not with Carson still at home. A week later, my father came to my dorm, wanting to know if I'd been the one who called the police. I'd almost died protecting Carson because he'd been trying to protect me.

In the universe's twisted sense of irony, the effort my father had put into beating the truth out of me had been too much strain on his heart. He might've lived if he'd been given CPR.

But I would never lay a hand on him.

"I've been doing this a long time," Williams said, bringing me back to the present. "I'd like to think that makes me a pretty good judge of character. Andi's a tough girl, but she's out of her league with this one, and she needs help."

I nodded. Whatever happened between us, I wanted her to be safe. "Tell me how I can help."

"Well, for starters, this entire conversation is off the record. If I wasn't so sure she had nothing to do with this, I wouldn't be here."

I finished my drink in silence, listening to Williams and piecing together tiny bits of information about the woman I'd planned my future around. His confidence in her innocence only reaffirmed my own-she may have done some stupid things in her life, but murder wasn't one of them.

"Thankfully, there's no connection between her and the security guard who was killed, and she doesn't own a car."

"What was stolen?"

"Nothing from what we know, which makes things a lot harder. Seems that whoever broke in knew the security code and the guard's route. It was only bad luck that he found them in Brecken's office."

I stopped him. "Brecken Shipping? How did I not hear about this before now?" Granted, I'd been preoccupied with everything but work lately.

"Lots of moving pieces to sort through, and even law enforcement moves slower on weekends. They're still collecting statements from Brecken employees, trying to figure out what the perpetrators were looking for on the computer, and who inside the company had a motive."

"Sadly, espionage seems like all the rage nowadays." Before long, they'd start looking at the company's compet.i.tors, the biggest of whom was Conure. Then I remembered another connection. Eventually, he'd find out about Tim, but I could save him some time.

"About a week ago," I said, "a Conure employee was fired for sharing confidential information with Brecken. Would the threat of prosecution be enough to make someone try to bury evidence that could be found on Brecken's computer?"

He perked up at the suggestion. "People have done much worse for less cause."

"I know." I trusted the man enough to tell him the truth about all of it. When I hesitated, he added what he knew, filling in blanks about Andi-d.a.m.n, that name was going to take some getting used to. But now wasn't the time for name calling. She needed my help, and I owed her. If nothing else, she'd forced me to wake up and live.

A half hour later, the detective shook my hand and thanked me for my help. "I'll be in touch, but you may have just made things a h.e.l.l of a lot easier on everyone."

"Except Tim Carpenter, of course."