The Gift of Love (20 page)

“Yes, do you know him?”

In every sense including the biblical.
“We’ve met, yes. But he never mentioned he’d had contact with anyone about us.”

“It was only one conversation. And he did, now that I think about it, call me later to say he was sure your company was a reputable one. But by then, we’d already officially objected. Even if he hadn’t warned us about your business, we would have asked to testify at the hearing because of the reason I stated earlier, but his opinion made it even more imperative that we intervene. So we did, both with the city and in the press.”

It took all the mental discipline Bella had to stay in her chair and say, in a rational tone of voice, “Given what you’ve told me, I understand why you might wonder about what we do. Especially since I’m not aware of any company like us anywhere else to compare us to, although I’m surprised Mr. Jordan wasn’t a bit more knowledgeable. Can I tell you something about us to see if I can set your mind at ease?”

When Mrs. Pennington nodded, Bella described for her, in a few sentences, what they did and how they did it. She used examples from the list she’d pulled out of the client files and assured the woman their work was above board and, according to their clients, a needed and much appreciated service.

“I wish you’d come to me before this,” Mrs. Pennington said when Bella was finished. “It might have made a difference in what we did.”

“We tried. I tried. But I couldn’t get the city staff to give me your contact information. Besides, they told me you were out of town.”

“At least we’ve had this chance to get things sorted out before you open your doors for business.” She rose from the chair with all the grace of a monarch leaving her throne. “Thank you for making the effort.”

As she accompanied her visitor to the door, Bella said, “One last thing. I’d like to invite you to our official opening. We’re hosting an open house in July. Would you be willing to be here, to show the neighbors and the press there are no hard feelings? It would mean a great deal to us.”

“Send me an invitation, and I’ll attend if my schedule allows. It’s the least I can do when you’ve gone out of your way to make sure I’m—we’re—comfortable with your business.”

For a good five minutes after Mrs. Pennington left, Bella stood staring out the front door. She didn’t know how she’d held it all together for the last part of their meeting. She felt Taylor’s betrayal deep in her gut. It was clear now he had no intention of having a relationship with her. He’d played her like a violin to get back at Summer and BU/MU, just as he’d threatened to do that day in Portland. She’d been mistaken to believe the warm and approachable Taylor was the real one and the hesitant and distant mask he hid behind the false one. It was the opposite. He may not have known whom she worked for when he first saw her and there may be some truth to his saying he found her attractive, but the bigger truth was, as soon as he found out she worked for Summer, he obviously thought he’d found a way through her to track the damage his lie to Mrs. Pennington had caused.

When the thought crossed her mind that he didn’t have to hook up with her to do that, that he could have found out through MBA, she rejected it. He was too methodical to rely solely on his colleague to give him the information he wanted. He wanted to be able to gloat by hearing the information from someone who was hurt by it.

This was what he had been hiding. It had to be the secret he was keeping. He may have been willing to tell her about Allison and the letter but she was sure he had no intention of ever telling her about Mrs. Pennington.

Then another piece fell into place. Oh my God.
That’s
why he’d left her office on Monday! He heard her say the name of the neighborhood association president and panicked.

If he’d thought he had reason to panic then, wait until she confronted him tomorrow. Panic would be the least of his reactions.

Fueled with a giant cup of leaded coffee to sharpen her brain and a healthful breakfast to fuel her body, Bella was ready to take on the world—or at least, Taylor Jordan’s corner of it. She could hear the “Ride of the Valkyries” playing in her head as she charged off the elevator at the MBA office building like someone on a mission, which, come to think of it, she was. Blowing by the receptionist with only a cursory nod, she headed straight for Taylor’s office. But once again, when she wanted to see him, he wasn’t there.

If he thought he could avoid her by not being there, he was mistaken. Not knowing she wanted to see him was no excuse. At this point, everything he did was wrong, and she would wait to tell him. In detail.

It shouldn’t be too long a wait. He must be in the office someplace. His suit jacket was hanging on the back of his chair, and his messenger bag was on the floor next to his desk. He never left the building without either of those things. She settled herself in his visitor’s chair. It occurred to her it would serve him right if she rummaged around in his desk drawers to see what else he was hiding, but she restrained herself. She was not about to lose the moral high ground she had claimed yesterday when she found out about his deception.

He was reading something when he walked through the door and didn’t see her for a few seconds. When he did, he looked, well, the only word she could think of was “hunted.”

She had a feeling he knew why she was there.

The feeling was confirmed when he avoided her eyes. “Isabella. I wasn’t expecting you.” A last chance possibility apparently occurred to him. “Are you here to meet with Nate?”

“No. I’m here to see you.”

All hope died from his face. Still not looking directly at her, he went to his desk but didn’t sit down. Whether it was a signal he didn’t want her to stay long or a sign he was thinking about a quick exit, she didn’t know. “What can I do for you?” he finally asked.

“Well, let’s see. Why
am
I here?” She knew she was being mean to drag it out, but she got great pleasure from doing so. “Oh, now I remember. I had a question or two for you after meeting with a former client of ours in Bellevue and Mrs. Pennington. I think you know her, she’s a neighborhood association president.”

He dropped into his desk chair. “You had a meeting in Bellevue, too?”

“Ah, I can see you’re beginning to put the pieces together.”

“If you’ll give me a chance, I can explain, Isabella. I swear I can.” He sounded tired. Or resigned, as if he’d been waiting for this particular shoe to drop for a long time.

“Explain what? How you lied to me? Kept secret the fact you’re the one responsible for the problems we had with the city because of what you told Mrs. Pennington? I don’t need an explanation for that. She got me up to speed on the subject quite nicely, thank you.”

“I made a couple of unfortunate offhand comments at a neighborhood association summit meeting, and she ran with it. I tried to get her off the scent but ...”

“Yes, I know. It was too late to call it off. She told me that, too.”

“I wasn’t trying to cause trouble. It was only a casual conversation.”

“A casual conversation? I’m not sure I’d call talking to our neighbors in Portland and leading Mrs. Pennington to believe we’re involved in some sort of sex ring casual conversation.”

“I never said anything about a sex ring. She came up with that all on her own.” Now he sounded more like a petulant little boy.

“But you did tell her we had problems with our neighbors, didn’t you? When you knew it wasn’t true.”

“Well, a couple of them said there were parking problems around your offices.”

“For God’s sake, there are parking problems all over Northwest Portland.”

“I know. I wasn’t thinking.”

“Wasn’t thinking or didn’t care?” She waved him off when it appeared he was about to answer the question. “And wasn’t it convenient of me to show up so you could have a way to keep track of how well your revenge on BU/MU was going? The revenge you vowed for the letter Allison sent you. A letter, which by the way, in case you don’t already know this part, I ghosted for her.”

“Oh, shit.”

“My feelings exactly.” She sprang from the chair and began to pace. “I have never felt so used, so played, so angry with anyone in my life.”

“Please, let me explain.”

“Stop it. Not only are you repeating yourself but there’s no way you can explain away what you did. How did you rationalize not telling me about Allison and Mrs. Pennington?”

“I tried to. On Saturday.”

“Oh, yes. After you fucked me.”

“It wasn’t like that, and you know it.”

“Wasn’t it? I feels like that to me.”

“It wasn’t fucking. We made love. And it was amazing. Deny it and you’re the liar.” He said it with conviction and certainty.

Even as mad as she was at him, she couldn’t.

Her silent agreement with his statement seemed to give him the strength to continue with more conviction in his voice. “I wanted to confess the whole mess to you then, but you stopped me because you said it was the best night of your life.”

“Yeah, well, I’ve reconsidered
that
opinion, believe me.” She stopped pacing in front of his desk, braced herself on her fists, and stared hard at him. “If you had any real intention of being honest, you wouldn’t have let me talk you out of it. You’d have insisted on telling me. But no. You wanted to feel like you were the good guy without having to actually do anything to earn the title. Besides, if you confessed, you’d lose your chance for revenge. And, boy, did you get back at us because you were pissed at your ex. You tied up Summer’s money and my time for months and kept us chasing our tails. You almost screwed up the best job I’ve ever had. And to top it off, you made me look like a fool for falling for you ... for your line of bullshit, that is. You are a genuine, first-class, lying bastard, and I want nothing more to do with you.”

She turned to leave, but he was on the other side of the desk faster than she imagined he could move, grabbing her arm to detain her. “Wait. Please. Let me try to explain how it happened. I didn’t mean to hurt you. Hell, I didn’t even really mean to hurt Summer’s business.”

“Let go of me. Now.” She pushed at him, and he did. “I don’t believe a word you’re saying. I heard you in Summer’s office. I was there the day you came in bellowing like a wounded bull. You wanted revenge for Allison’s letter. You figured a way to get it without having your fingerprints all over it. End of story.”

“What you’re saying is not true. It’s simply not true.”

She sighed. “You know what? Whether it’s true or not doesn’t matter anymore. Every time we were together, it was obvious you were hiding something or were afraid of something. I thought, if I could figure it out, we could make something out of this relationship. But I was wrong. We can’t. No relationship works without trust. And I can’t trust you to tell the truth. I’m done. I don’t want to see you or hear from you again.”

Before he could stop her, she was out the door, striding for the elevator. She wasn’t surprised or even upset when he didn’t follow.

• • •

Taylor knew he wouldn’t get anywhere going after her even though he wanted to. He’d been unsuccessful getting her to listen to him while she was in his office, and the chances he could do any better in the hall weren’t good.

Instead, he waited for the twenty-five minutes he knew it would take her to return to her office, then called. He got voicemail and left a message. He texted. No response. He e-mailed. Same. He called her cellphone. Different voicemail message but message all the same. Two messages on each voicemail later, he gave up hoping she would talk to him.

Then it occurred to him maybe she wasn’t answering because something had happened to her. Maybe she’d been distracted or upset by their confrontation. Suppose she’d gotten into a wreck because of him? He’d never forgive himself. He had to find out if she was okay, even if she wouldn’t speak to him.

The only person he could think of who might help was Summer. It wasn’t the easiest call to make, but he made it.

“Taylor. My receptionist says this is an emergency. What’s going on? It’s not Bella, is it?”

“I don’t know what’s going on. That’s why I’m calling. I need your help.” He wasn’t sure how to broach the subject but he had to make a stab at it. “Um ... we had a bad conversation this morning ... Isabella and I ... and ... ah ... I hurt her. She’s mad at me, left here steaming. I’m worried about her and she’s not answering my phone calls or texts. I don’t know if it’s because she doesn’t want to talk to me or ... ”

“I talked to her fifteen minutes ago. She was on her way to an appointment. She was a bit abrupt but otherwise sounded fine.”

“That would have been after she was here. At least she was okay then.” He dropped into his chair, somewhat relieved.

“Out of curiosity, what could have been so horrible about a conversation you had to make you worry she’d get hurt after she left?”

“It’s a little hard to explain.”

“Try.”

“You know she’s been doing interviews with former clients for your marketing materials. Yesterday she found out my ex-girlfriend hired you to write a letter breaking off our relationship.”

“Really?”

“That’s only part of it. I’m embarrassed to say I’m the guy who came into your office and yelled at you about the letter his girlfriend sent him.”

“Oh, my God. You’re the Dear John Ranter?” He was slightly offended that Summer sounded like she was muffling laughter. When she had herself under better control, she asked, “So that’s what you two argued about?”

“Mostly she yelled at me for not telling her.” He paused and cleared his throat before continuing. “There was one more thing. She ... um ... found out I was the person who accidentally told Mrs. Pennington you had problems with your neighbors, which encouraged her to object to your zoning change.”

Summer wasn’t laughing now. “So, that’s what you decided to do to make good on your threats, was it?”

“I didn’t do anything deliberate. Well, I did talk to some of your neighbors before I left Portland, but by the time I got back to Seattle, I knew I wouldn’t be doing anything to back up what I said to you.”