Fall Into Me (Heart of Stone) (18 page)

"I'm
one of those workaholic types. My brain never shuts off, so a lot of times I
get up and do work when you're sleeping. I don't like to bother you, so I go
back to my own room."

She
squeezed me in her arms and looked up at me with a smile. "It wouldn't
bother me and it would be nice to see you there when I wake up."

I
couldn't say no when she looked at me like that, with those blue eyes so sweet.
"Okay." I didn't mean it. There was no way I could stay with her all
night feeling like I did now.

Nina
turned to pour herself a cup of coffee. "I'm going to do some work on the Atlanta suite today. I have some good ideas, I think. How's your day look?"

Atlanta.

"I
need to move up our trip there. Be ready to leave this afternoon," I said
before I took my last sip of coffee.

Spinning
around, she splashed coffee down the front of her shirt and rushed to pat it
dry with a towel from the counter. "What? I'm not ready. I need more
time."

"I
have things I have to take care of there, and they can't wait. I'm sure
whatever you choose will be great," I said calmly. "Be ready to go by
three. I'll be back in a few."

I
left Nina stunned in the kitchen and quickly got away from the house before she
could ask any questions. I wasn't ready to explain everything yet.

Michelle
was waiting for me when I got to my office, along with Daryl and Karl. While I
would have liked to make both of them disappear, I had to deal with them. As I
breezed past them on my way in, I decided Karl and his threats would be the
first hurdle of the day.

"Karl,
how nice to see you. Join me in my office."

He
barely let me sit down before he began. "Is there anything you want to
tell me, Tristan?"

I
looked up and saw him standing in front of my desk. He held his chin high, as
if he was looking down on me or had something over me.

"Other
than what I told you last time, Karl, no. So if you're here with some bullshit
bluster, I'm not in the mood. Go bother someone else."

He
stepped forward and placed his palms on the edge of my desk, pushing the
platinum nameplate aside. The symbolism wasn't lost on me. His meaty, rough
hands with their thick knuckles shoving me out of the way.

Leaning
forward, he jutted his face toward me. "Made any trips lately,
Tristan?"

I'd
been foolish in thinking he hadn't had someone watching me. Faking nonchalance,
I leaned back in my chair and laced my fingers behind my head. "None
recently, but I'm planning to head to Atlanta right after New Year's. Would you
like me to bring you back some peaches, Karl?"

His
expression changed as he mentally filed away the nugget of information I'd just
given him, and then he grinned. "Speaking of peaches, how is your young
lady? Feeling well?"

I
bristled at his reference to Nina. "Have you taken to caring about Nina's
welfare now, Karl?"

"I'm
just here to remind you that if there is anything incriminating, she would be
in grave danger."

I
couldn't help but chuckle at him. "You been watching A Few Good Men
recently? Your threat might work better if you sounded like Nicholson."

Karl
didn't seem to understand my joke and continued, "This is almost at its
end, son. Remember that."

He
turned to leave as the triumphant victor of our lame battle of wits, mumbling
something as he flung open the door and stalked past Michelle. This was a hell
of a way to start the day. And now I had to deal with Daryl and his pictures,
which would require more playacting on my part to avoid looking like a
boyfriend who was in the dark as to what his woman was doing.

"Tristan,
I have so much I want you to see," he announced as he entered my office
and closed the door behind him.

"Take
a seat, Daryl. Let's see what you have."

He
sat down in front of my desk and pointed toward the door. "Before I begin,
I should let you know that I saw him watching your lady while I was watching
loverboy."

I
couldn't hide my surprise at hearing that Karl himself was watching Nina. Thank
God I had two bodyguards on her. But he was beginning to be a real problem.
Stalking me was one thing. Stalking Nina was an entirely different thing and
one I didn't like.

"I'm
guessing by the look on your face that you didn't know. He didn't get close to
her, but he was there and watching her."

"Thanks,
Daryl. Did you see anyone else there?"

"Just
the two giants who are always around her. I'd keep them with her at all times.
That guy is no good, Tristan."

"So
what do you have for me, Daryl?"

He
handed me the pictures he'd taken as he watched Cal. "Pics of him with a
handful of women. That boy gets around. Pics of your lady with loverboy. He's a
real player and unless I'm reading her entirely wrong, she's way out of her
league with him. You need to make her realize he's playing her. Got a decent
amount from her the other night."

I
sifted through the pictures of Cal Johnson and his catalog of women, stopping
when I reached the few of Nina and him at the restaurant she'd told me about. I
couldn't help but stare at her expression as she sat listening to the lies he
spewed about a girlfriend breaking his heart and whatever other bullshit he
told her. She looked so innocent sitting there next to him, her blue eyes
intense as she sympathetically listened to his tale of woe, her mouth turning
down slightly as the pictures went on and she heard how awful his life was. Did
she look like that next to me, I wondered? In many ways, Cal resembled someone
like me. I'd been accused of being manipulative many times by women. Had they
seen me like I saw him now?

"I'm
happy to report that nothing happened between them, you know, sexually. If you
ask me, he doesn't seem interested in that from her at all. And she gives off
no vibe that she wants him. I think it's a case of she's too nice and he knows
it."

I
handed the pictures back to Daryl, my gaze still fixed on the last one of Nina
smiling warmly at Cal as she gave him money. "I'm wondering if it's time I
paid our friend Cal a visit."

"If
you're asking me, I say no. Don't bother yourself with this. Deal with your
lady. I really don't think she's planning some kind of rendezvous. I think
she's just naive and wants to help out an old friend who's down on his luck.
She doesn't know this is his game. Let her know what's going on and I guarantee
you I won't have any more pics of them together."

I
thought about Daryl's suggestion and nodded my agreement. I didn't expect to
see anything more from him about Nina and Cal, but it was best to keep an eye
on loverboy for a while longer. Standing from my chair, I walked around to lead
him out. "Keep on him for a little while. I want to be able to show
without a doubt that he's scamming women."

"No
problem, Tristan. Want to schedule a time to meet after Christmas? Say, the
Friday after?"

Patting
him on the back, I escorted him to Michelle's desk so she could mark the date
on my calendar. "That's fine. If I don't see you before, have a merry
Christmas, Daryl."

"You
too, Tristan. Enjoy your holiday with your lady."

When
he was out of earshot, I turned to Michelle. "I'm going to be out of the
office until after the holidays. The same order as before applies. Do not let
Karl in, but I want you to tell him I'll be in Dallas for Christmas when he
asks."

"Okay.
I will, Mr. Stone," she said quietly, as if her agreement was to be a
secret too. "Is everything okay?"

I
ignored her question as I spied the gift box at the back of her desk, evidence
that Angelo had gotten her the Christmas gift I'd wanted. I'd told him to
choose a necklace, something classic but nice, leaving him as much room to
choose as he liked.

She
blushed and looked back at the box. "You didn't have to go to such
trouble, Mr. Stone. It's lovely."

Michelle
knew as well as I did that I hadn't gone to any trouble since Angelo had done
all the leg work. Smiling, I said, "It's the least I can do to make up for
years of not doing enough. I hope he picked something you like."

She
turned back toward me with the necklace laid across her palm. A white gold
necklace with a diamond and pearl pendant, it was very much her style—classic
and understated. Thank God for Angelo because if I had to pick out gifts like
that, I'd likely be standing dumbfounded for hours in front of the counter at
Saks.

"I
love it. Thank you."

"I
hope you have a nice holiday, Michelle. Make sure security locks the suite as
you're leaving on Monday. I'll see you when I get back."

"Monday?
You don't want me here on Christmas Eve, like every other year?"

Suddenly,
I felt like Ebenezer Scrooge. I had made her work every other Christmas Eve since
I'd started at Stone Worldwide. I was there, so it had never occurred to me
that she shouldn't be there working too.

Shaking
my head, I smiled at her. "No. Enjoy your holiday, Michelle."

"You
too, Mr. Stone. I hope it's a happy one."

I
didn't continue the conversation, silently praying that Nina and I would have a
happy Christmas. It was our first, and I wanted it to be perfect for her. But
first, I needed to find out the rest of the story from Amanda Cashen's sister. After
making arrangements to fly out that afternoon, I took care of some business and
headed back to the house to find Nina, my stomach in knots about what I'd find
in Atlanta.

Chapter Eighteen

Tristan

The
flight was thankfully uneventful, even though the smoothest plane ride was
still terrifying for me. I spent the entire time sitting like a statue in my
seat while Nina talked about what she planned to do for the Atlanta suite,
intentionally trying to take my mind off the trip. I hadn't exaggerated about
wanting to join the Mile High Club with her when I'd teased her about it, but
the minute I stepped onto the plane, it was like every other time I'd flown
since the crash. My heart raced and I didn't feel like I was getting enough air
in my lungs, as if someone had their hands wrapped around my neck and their
fingers were pressing against my throat, slowly strangling me. None of the
tricks the doctors had given me worked, but I couldn't help but smile at Nina's
attempt to make the flight bearable.

The
Atlanta Richmont was all decked out for the Christmas holiday with a
twenty-five foot evergreen tree decorated with gold and red ornaments as the
focal point in the lobby. It resembled the kind of tree my mother used to love
for the holidays.

"Tristan,
this hotel is gorgeous! Do all of them look like this?" Nina asked as she
swiveled her head left and right to take in all the view.

"Pretty
much. Some are better than others. This is my first time here too, but I must
say it's not bad."

She
jabbed me in the ribs with her finger and grimaced. "Always so
understated. This place is great!"

I
leaned down to kiss her and whispered, "I'm glad you like it. Let's hope
you think the same way when you see the suite."

Located
on the top floor of the hotel, the Peachtree Suite was one of two suites that
took up the space a penthouse in other hotels would. I'd originally chosen this
suite instead of the other Dogwood Suite because I'd hoped it would be a good
way to ease Nina back into work. Unlike in Dallas, with its ugly gold
everywhere, the designers my father had hired for Atlanta were top notch, so
all she'd have to do was choose a piece or two she loved and she'd have
succeeded.

Nina
followed me into the suite and whistled behind me. "This is even nicer in
person than it was online. I'm still not sure what artwork I could pick to
improve on it, though."

I
poured myself a drink to calm my nerves from the plane and what I was about to
do. "I'm sure whatever you pick will be great, Nina."

Wrapping
her arms around me, she pressed her cheek to my back. "Is there something
wrong? I know you said you hate flying, but all of a sudden, you seem
different."

I
put my glass down on the bar and placed my hands over hers on my chest.
"Nothing wrong. I'm always like this after a flight."

"You
sure? Anything I can do?" she asked sweetly, making me wish I could just
tell her what was making my stomach twist in knots. I couldn't. Not yet,
anyway. I had to do this alone, but I hoped that once I met with Jessica Cashen
that all the secrets I'd kept from Nina could finally come out.

I
turned in her hold and cupped her chin. "I need to take care of some
business this afternoon, but I hope we can have dinner when I get back. I
shouldn't be long."

Nina
smiled up at me, blissfully unaware of where I was going. "Okay. I'm going
to get working on the artwork for this nearly perfect suite, Mr. Stone. Don't
worry. I'm on the job."

I
couldn't help but smile. She did that to me. "I'm happy to hear it, Ms.
Edwards. I'll expect a full report when I return then."

"Of
course." She faked a bow and stood on her toes to kiss me. "Don't
work too hard, okay? Tell whoever you're meeting that I'm going to have
something to say to them if you come back here all grouchy because of work."

Kissing
the tip of her nose, I promised not to work too hard. I couldn't promise I
wouldn't be a miserable fuck when I returned, though. I hadn't been able to get
all those terrible things Joseph Edwards had detailed in his notes out of my
mind and what Judge Cashen's daughter had to say likely wouldn't make things
better. But at least I'd know the full truth.

The
concierge had a car service take me to Jessica Cashen's home in Alpharetta, and
nearly an hour later I was standing on the front porch of her home with my
heart in my throat. A cool breeze chilled me as it began to lightly rain. I
rang the doorbell and balled up my shaking hands, bracing myself for what was
to come.

The
door opened and in front of me stood a woman I guessed wasn't even Nina's age.
Maybe twenty-two, she had short blond hair and brown eyes that grew larger by
the second as she stared at me. She was petite, but quickly I found out that
small package was full of power.

"Who
are you? How can you be here?" she asked in a voice seeped in rage.

I
raised my hands in front of me in surrender, hoping to put her at ease.
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you. My name is Tristan and I was
hoping to speak to you about your father."

"There's
no way you can be standing here in front of me. Is this some kind of cruel
joke? If so, I don't think it's funny."

She
tried to slam the door on me, but I quickly stuffed my right foot next to the
doorjamb and said quietly, "Please. I don't know what you're talking
about, but it's very important I speak to you."

"Who
are you?"

I
looked in through the opening and saw a look of horror on her face. "Don't
be scared. My name is Tristan Stone. I just want to talk. Please."

The
look in her eyes told me she recognized my name. Slowly, she opened the door
and her gaze scanned me up and down. Finally, she stopped on my face and
narrowed her eyes to angry slits.

"You
look just like him."

I
didn't have to ask who she meant. Nodding, I said, "He was my twin."

"I
heard he died. Is that true?" she asked with venom in her words.

"Yes."

"Good.
I hope he suffered." She looked away and then faced me again. "I'm
sorry. I just can't feel bad that he's gone."

"May
we talk? I need some answers, and I'm hoping you can help me understand some
things."

Silently,
she welcomed me in and we sat in a small living room off the entryway with a
small, unlit Christmas tree in the corner. I studied her for a moment as she
did the same with me, and then I said what I guessed no one in my family had
ever said to her. "I'm sorry about the deaths of your father and
sister."

"I'm
having a hard time believing you knew nothing about that, Mr. Stone. Your
brother sure did."

"My
brother and I were two very different people. I swear to you I knew nothing
about what happened to your family. That's what I'm here for tonight."

Jessica
Cashen sighed heavily and her mouth turned down into a frown. "You don't
understand how hard it was to accept what your brother did. Even today, if I
hear the name Taylor, I have a hard time not lashing out. My husband has been
through so many nights of me being miserable over this I had to promise him I'd
let it go."

"I
understand, Jessica, but I need to know things only you can tell me. There's
another person hurt by all this, and she'll be helped by what you tell
me."

"Are
you saying your brother did this to another girl too?"

I
shook my head. "No, but there was another person hurt by my brother and
father. What you can tell me about what happened may help her deal with the loss
of her father."

"I'm
sorry to hear someone else went through what my family had to endure. My mother
died last year right in this house, never fully recovered from the shock of
losing my sister and father just months apart. She just shriveled up."

"I'm
so sorry."

She
wiped a tear away and took a deep breath. "I'll tell you what I know.
You'll have to fill in the blanks."

"Thank
you." I sat back on the couch and listened as she began her story.

"My
sister was only fifteen when she met your brother, Tristan. Even now as I look
at you, I can see him. Those same brown eyes and look of money you both have.
How old are you?"

"Twenty-nine."

"Did
you like teenage girls when you were twenty-four? Your brother did. I never
found out how he met her. I can't imagine why a fifteen year old girl, a
freshman in high school, would be anywhere near where a grown man would be.
Amanda was sweet and innocent, not in the way people say someone is but in
reality they're out every night sleeping with anyone. She was still a virgin
when she met him."

My
stomach turned at the idea of being with a teenage girl when I was twenty-four.

"Wherever
they met, she was crazy about him from the first night. I remember she came up
to my room and told me she'd met someone. I thought she meant some boy at the
mall. She told me his name was Taylor and he was gorgeous with big brown eyes
she was sure were the most beautiful eyes she'd ever seen. I bet you've heard
that a lot too."

Jessica
stopped for a moment and stared at me. "It's amazing how much you look
like him. When I first saw you standing in my doorway, I wanted to lunge at you
I was so angry. You're identical down to the shape of your face and even your
teeth."

For
the first time in my life, I hated the way I looked as she described Taylor through my features. "You met Taylor, I assume?"

"Once.
It was then that I realized my sister had gotten into something that was going
to be bad for her. I just didn't realize how bad."

"What
happened to make things go bad?" I asked, knowing the basic outline of the
story. My brother had gotten a teenage girl pregnant and like a coward, had
turned his back on her and the baby. What I didn't know was why.

"She
found out she was going to have his baby. I tried to convince her to have an
abortion. She was only fifteen, for God's sake. I was nearly nineteen at the
time and I couldn't have handled a baby. She was too young, but she wouldn't
listen to me. She was in love with him and thought they'd get married and live
happily after. I tried to explain things to her, but she just said over and
over that he could take care of her. I guess she thought since he was wealthy
that he'd do just that."

"Did
she tell your parents who the father was?"

Jessica
shook her head sadly. "Not at first. She told him, but then the calls from
him stopped. He wouldn't talk to her. She became depressed and stayed in her
room all the time. My mother began to ask questions and finally Amanda told her
she was pregnant. But even then, she wouldn't give up his name. She was sure he
would come around. She thought he might be scared because of who our father
was. Amanda wasn't stupid, even if she was naive. She knew a twenty-four year
old man with a fifteen year old girl was considered statutory rape, even if she
was madly in love. My father was a judge, and she was worried that Taylor might be afraid to live up to his responsibilities because of the difference in
their ages."

I
tried to imagine this person Jessica was describing, but I didn't know him. My
brother had always been so on the straight and narrow. I couldn't imagine how
he'd think sleeping with a teenage girl was okay.

Knowing
what I was about to say may upset Jessica, I lowered my voice and quietly said,
"Was your sister a willing participant?" I couldn't bring myself to
ask if my twin brother had raped a child.

"If
you're asking did he force himself on her, the answer is no. He wasn't a
rapist, Tristan. He was a son-of-a-bitch who discarded my little sister when
things got too real for him. He was fine with her when she was a simple thing
to play with, but when real life crashed in on them, he abandoned her, leaving
her to deal with a baby on her own."

 "Why?"
I wondered aloud. "He'd have to pay for the child whether he admitted it
or not."

"Because
he never cared for her like she cared for him. She was a toy he liked playing
with. She adored him and hung on his every word. She'd tell me about meeting
him and I never heard her say they talked about her. It was all him. He was a
narcissist and she was his adoring fan. As long as she stayed in that role,
everything was fine, but once she began to make demands on him, he wanted
nothing more to do with her."

"I'm
sorry, Jessica. I had no idea. I wasn't part of Taylor's world then. I was busy
making my own bad choices. Nothing like he did, but..."

I
let my sentence trail off. This wasn't about me and my stupid decisions.

"Something
tells me you're not as alike as I would have thought. Do you have children,
Tristan?"

Shaking
my head, I forced a smile. "No. None yet."

"Your
brother's child would have been going to kindergarten this year. I think about
that sometimes. A little boy or girl ready to begin school. That never came to
be, though."

"What
happened?" I asked, my heart heavy at the thought of her sister dealing
with having a child at such a young age herself.

"Amanda
tried to get him to talk to her, but he wouldn't even answer her phone calls.
She didn't know where to find him and when he changed his number, she became
depressed. It broke my heart to see her like that. She cried all the time,
wouldn't eat, and stopped going out. Finally, she gave up and took her life
when she was three months pregnant."

Jessica
could no longer hold back her tears, and as they streamed down her cheeks, all
I could do was sit there feeling like I was in the middle of a horror story. Taylor's neglect had been the direct cause of Amanda's death, and nothing had ever been
said about it by my father or mother. Had they known about it? My father had,
if the dots Joseph Edwards had connected were true. My father had known what Taylor did and then made it worse.

I
wanted to reach out to touch her hand, but how could I, the identical image of
the man whose monstrous behavior had taken her sister away?