Accidental Heartbreak (The Accidental Series, Book 2) (20 page)

Carter
watched his Mother tremble. She hadn’t even shed a tear at Jacob’s
funeral, but she cried in front of Carter, accepting some
responsibility for Jacob’s depression. She demanded too much of
Jacob. Now he was gone.

“
He
wrote me a letter, Mother,” Carter said in a low monotone. “He
asked me to take care of his
fiancée
. I
can’t find her and I was wondering if you know where she might be.
Her name is Shayla Kline.”

“
Jacob
wrote you?” she asked, wiping her eyes.

“
Yeah.”

“
Can I see
it?”

“
No
you can’t see it. I just need to know where she is.”

“
I
don’t know,” she said in tears. “I didn’t know he was seeing
anyone…didn’t know he was engaged.”

“
Of
course not. You wouldn’t know. You didn’t know anything about your
own son. You should be ashamed,” Carter said then left her there
sobbing.

* * *

Carter took a long
breath then emerged from his vehicle and on into the house. He
heard noise in the kitchen, so he went there first, saw Shayla
slicing turkey and cheese sandwiches in halves. She dropped the
knife on the table and ran up to him, jumping in his arms, locking
her legs around him.

“
Hey baby.” She
kissed him erratically, all over his face, neck, everywhere and he
loved it.

“
You must be happy
to see me,” he quipped.

“
I’m always happy
to see you, honey.” Shayla wiggled out of his grasp, stood in front
of him and studied his face. “You okay?”

“Yeah.”

“
You sure, because
I think I know you well enough to know when something is
wrong.”

“
I’m fine,
baby…just been thinking about what you told me this morning, and it
hurts me that you went through so much.”

“
See, Carter,
that’s why I didn’t want to say anything. I didn’t want to hurt
you.”

“No, don’t
misunderstand. I’m glad you told me. It’s not in the back of my
mind anymore…just wish I could’ve done something to help you.”

“
Sweetheart,
you’ve done enough to help me.” She stood on her tiptoes so that
she was high enough to kiss him. Then, sauntering to the pantry,
she grabbed a bag of plain Lay’s potato chips. On to the
refrigerator, she grabbed a soda and they sat and ate lunch
together.

Like he did many
times before, Carter repressed the notion of telling her about
Jacob. If he didn’t think about it, maybe he wouldn’t feel so
blameworthy. And what she didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her,
right?

Carter lay face-to-face with Shayla,
centered perfectly in bed. He’d been stroking her soft, curly hair
for a few minutes, trying to find a good time to tell her about the
social function tomorrow before she dozed off. There was so much
going in their personal lives, it had completely slipped his
mind.

“Shayla, are you sleep?” he whispered.

“No,” she said but didn’t open her eyes.

“I know this is short notice, but I’m going
to have a mixer here tomorrow night. That way, you’ll get to meet
my colleagues and—”

“Tomorrow night?” She said, her eyes opened
wide.

“Yeah.”

“You
want
me to meet your
coworkers?”

“Of course I do.”

“Tomorrow night?” she repeated, sitting up,
staring down at him as he remained lying on his pillow.

“Yeah, and again, I know this is short
notice but it’ll be good for you…for us.”

“Um,” Shayla said, feeling anxious. “You
sure about that?”

“Huh?” Carter asked, sitting up now.

“You know…for your coworkers to meet me. Are
you sure that’s a good idea?”

“Why wouldn’t it be? I want you to know
everyone.”

“I know, but I’m not sure if I’m up to it. I
mean, what am I gonna tell people when they ask how we met? I can’t
very well say I was homeless.”

“Why not?” Carter asked.

“For obvious reasons,” she said
hysterically. “And I don’t want those people turning up their nose
at me like I’m garbage.”

“
Those people
…what are you trying to
say?”

“I’m just saying…I don’t think they would
have a good perception of me and thus, it will reflect bad on you
and—”

“Stop,” Carter said, realizing that Shayla
was probably saying this to protect his image but he was still
peeved about it. “We’ll tell them we met at the hospital, or that I
met you at a restaurant if that suit your standards…”

“I didn’t mean for you to get upset.”

“Why wouldn’t I get upset? You act like I’m
supposed to be ashamed of you, Shayla.”

Shayla laid down with her back to him and
said nothing more.

“That’s what you think?” Carter said,
staring at the back of her head. “And why’d you turn your back to
me? Look at me, Shay.”

Shayla turned to face him again, seeing the
frustration in his face, the glaze over his eyes, the wrinkles in
his forehead. “Carter, I’m just expressing my feelings to you.”

“I understand that, but I want to know if
that’s really how you feel?”

“Sometimes. I mean, let’s face it. We both
know I’m not…I’m not like them.” She sighed. “I just don’t want
people to know how we met is all.”

“I don’t care if people know how we met.”
Carter shot her a blinding stare. “I’m not ashamed of you,
Shayla.”

“Maybe you should be.” She turned away from
him and sat on the edge of the bed.

Carter felt a sting in his chest. “If that’s
how you really feel, then why’d you marry me?”

“Because I love you.”

“If you love me, you would know in your
heart that there’s no one better for me, than you. I don’t care
what people think about us.” Carter got out of the bed and paced
the floor. Back and forth he walked before he stopped in front of
her. “So this means you’re not happy…”

“I am ha—”

“How can you be happy when you feel this
way? You think I deserve someone else.”

Shayla thought about what he said
quietly.

“Did you feel this way about Jacob, too?”
Carter asked.

Shayla’s mouth dropped open. “What on earth
does my ex have to do with this?”

“More than you realize,” Carter hinted. He
shook his head and walked out of the room to get some space. Why
was love so freakin’ complicated? Two people who cared about each
other as much as they did should have no problem being and staying
in love without all the added drama. Besides, he had enough to
worry about.

The caterers
showed up around two the following afternoon. Shayla let them in
and immediately, they went to work. One guy set up a bar in the
living room. A few women were in the kitchen making trays of hors
d’oeuvres – crab cake bites, turkey club pinwheels, chipotle bean
dip, cucumber sandwiches, stuffed mushrooms, Italian marinated
shrimp and a few other food samples Shayla didn’t recognize – high
end stuff that’s usually associated with top-notch, posh events and
dressed up with descriptive food adjectives like
smoky
,
blackened
and
crusted
.

Retreating to the
bedroom, she sat on the bed and buried her face in her hands,
thinking about the fight with Carter last night. He’d left quickly
this morning, didn’t even bother to give her the normal kiss on the
cheek. And had he slept next to her last night or did he sleep on
the couch?

Shayla took a deep
breath and picked up the receiver with the intent to call him but
changed her mind at the last minute. He probably didn’t want to
hear from her anyway, especially since he hadn’t bothered calling.
At any rate, he was due home in a few hours with a bunch of his
workmates and she laid on the bed, her stomach in knots, deciding
whether or not to be apart of this event.

***

Carter arrived at
home around five-thirty. A bunch of his colleagues trailed him
there, parking on the street in front of the house and in the
driveway. He walked up to the front door, opened it, being
immediately greeted by smells of fresh food and the sounds of light
jazz music humming in the background. The mood was right for a nice
grown-up, mature party and since he hadn’t had a mixer last year
due to death in the family, this was a step towards normality for
him, another reason why he wanted Shayla to be a part of
it.

A server handed
him a flute of champagne, and did the same for everyone else who
followed him in. Carter downed the first glass like a seasoned
drinker, using glass number one to get in the partying mood, to
loosen up. After the night he had with Shayla, he needed to
unwind.

Grabbing a new
glass of champagne, he took a sip, scanning the room for Shayla.
She wasn’t there. He peeped in the den then quickly sprinted to the
kitchen. No Shayla.

He returned to the
living room, told his guests to get comfortable, grab some
champagne and eat all the hor d’ouevres they could stand. Then he
jogged upstairs, looking for Shayla.

He tapped on the
bathroom door. “Shay, you in there?” he asked, his ears pressed up
against the door while he attempted to turn the handle at the same
time. The door was locked. “Shayla.”

“
I’ll be out in a
minute,” she said faintly, staring at her face in the mirror while
single, vertical lines of tears streamed underneath her eyes. She
was dressed in a silver, spaghetti strap dress that fell just below
the knees.

“Should I expect you at
the mixer, or are you still not coming?”

Shayla bent over
near the vanity, holding her stomach. How could she meet Carter’s
coworkers? She’d instantly be judged by them. And just what would
they think of her? Was she too skinny? Too short? Too pale? Too shy
for a man as outgoing as Carter? Would they smile in her face while
thinking Carter could do better?

“
Did you hear me?”
Carter leaned his body against the door, desiring to see her but
settling for door talk.

She turned on the
faucet, dashed cold water on her face, and as her hands slowly
moved downward, she opened her eyes and stared at her wedding ring,
a symbol of Carter’s love. A reminder of their union. Surely a man
like Carter wouldn’t marry a woman if he really didn’t want to be
with her. Right?

Carter sighed.
“Look, I’m gonna head back down…keep them company…hope you decide
to join me.” He walked away frustrated. What would his coworkers
think of him now? What would he say when they inquired about
Shayla’s whereabouts? Everyone was looking forward to meeting her
at the party tonight and it was at his house for goodness sakes.
Now what? He instantly began brainstorming ways to tell people why
she wasn’t joining him. She was sick…working on a project…resting
from a long day. He had to make up something.

Shayla snatched a
piece of paper towel and blotted her face dry. She took a concealer
stick and carefully hid the scratches and blemishes on her face.
Then she applied some liquid foundation, dabbed some powder over it
to set her look. She brushed mascara on her long eye lashes then
rubbed a deep red lipstick across her lips. She finger combed her
hair so that it hung properly down her back.

She left the
bathroom, walked back to the bedroom and slid into some silver
stilettos and headed downstairs, her stomach forming millions of
knots with each step down. Nearing the bottom, she saw an older red
head woman staring up at her. Shayla smiled, but had no clue who
she was.

“
You must be
Shayla,” the woman said. She waited until Shayla was a few steps
closer and continued, “I’m Julie, Carter’s executive assistant. It
is a pleasure to meet you…always good to put a face with a
name…come here, hun.” She gave Shayla a gentle, brief squeeze. Then
she took a step back, looked her up and down and said, “You are
such a doll.”

“Thanks.”

“
I’ve never seen
Carter happier.”

Shayla smiled.
“How long have you been his assistant?”

“
Five
years.”

“
Wow. That’s a
long time,” Shayla said nervously, while looking around, trying to
guess how many people were in the living room. Must’ve been forty.
Maybe fifty. Then she caught Carter’s gaze on the opposite side of
the room for a few hot seconds, only breaking the force field
between them when she heard Julie say, “He’s such a wonderful
person. Do you know that out of all my years of being an assistant,
Carter is the only executive that’s given me consecutive yearly
raises. And I’ve been an executive assistant all my life,
darling.”

“
That’s great,”
Shayla said, but barely heard a word Julie said. Her attention was
on Carter. She’d glanced up at him multiple times and each time she
looked his way, he just stared, didn’t blink once and it made
butterflies go haywire in her stomach. Shayla turned back to Julie
and asked, “So is this everyone from the office?”

“
Well, a few
people couldn’t make it. But for the most part, this is the
gang.”

“
Wow. There are a
lot of people here. This is one department?” Shayla
inquired.

“
No. There are
actually eight departments that make up the global
division.”

“
Oh,” Shayla said.
“So which one of the eight departments does Carter
oversee?”

Julie chuckled a
little. “He oversees all of them, dear. He’s the
president.”