Tori—
Sunday morning, I grab my phone off the nightstand before I even get out of bed and text Rafe. I lied awake all night, worrying over the two of us.
ME: Can we talk?
They all lead to the fact that I should have listened to him. I should have canceled with Alex. I should have blown him off and spent the day with Rafe.
On the other hand, this is showing me about Rafe, too. I get that I pissed him off, but we can’t disagree and still talk? And that’s pissing me off.
I try again.
ME: Rafe?
ME: Talk to me.
ME: Please.
I take a shower and get dressed, then carry my phone to the kitchen. I sit at the table with a cup of coffee and stare at my phone.
With every minute that passes, I feel worse. Is what we had really over before it even started? The sinking feeling takes hold that I have no one to blame but myself. I did this to us. Me. Not him. Me.
And that feeling sucks.
I call him. It’s the first time I’ve ever actually called him. I listen to the call ring and ring, but he never picks up. It doesn’t even click over to voicemail. The call just ends.
I try again and again, and each time my heart breaks a little more.
Finally, I stop. I’m afraid if I keep this up, he’ll block my number.
My father comes in and gets coffee, then shuffles out of the room, and I don’t think he even realized I was sitting at the table. I’m sure he’s retired to his study, so I follow him a moment later, tapping on the door.
“Daddy?”
“Come in.”
When I enter, he’s behind his desk reading The Wall Street Journal. He lowers the paper. “Tori, how was the event last night?”
Closing the door behind me, I take a chair across from him. “It was fine. I wanted to talk to you about Alex.”
“What about him?” He frowns. “He treated you right, didn’t he?”
“It’s about his character.”
“What do you mean?”
“I think you need to understand the lengths he’s prepared to go. He wants this mill, Daddy.”
“I know.” My father sighs heavily, leaning back in his chair. “What I want to do is sell him the Northridge Mill. Not this one.”
“But he’s not interested in that one, is he?”
He rubs his jaw. “No, he’s not. I guess I’ve been fooling myself, thinking I could persuade him. Men like him are not persuadable.”
“I’m through seeing him. I want you to understand that. I was nice to him as a favor to you, and I thought he was a nice man at first, but I’ve seen another side of him. And besides, I don’t want you to sell this land. I’ll never do anything to help you do that.”
“What other side?”
“He’s not the guy I thought, not the guy he presents to the world.”
“I’m sorry I involved you in this.”
“You shouldn’t trust him. Promise me you won’t.”
He nods, his eyes on the desktop, and I frown.
“Daddy, are you in financial trouble?”
“No, nothing like that. There’s nothing for you to worry about.”
My father is a rotten liar. Perhaps I’ll have to get answers myself. I know he keeps his bank statements in that desk somewhere. Later, when he’s gone, I’ll find out the truth. I stand. “Well, I’ve got some homework to do.”
“Yes, yes. You go do that.” He waves me out, but his face looks worn and worried.
By late afternoon, I’m climbing the walls.
Rafe still hasn’t responded, and I’m getting desperate. I’ve even thought about driving to the clubhouse, but I’m not sure I remember how to get there. Of course, I could get that information from Melissa or Fiona, even. I have both their numbers.
Pacing the floor of my bedroom, I turn the notion over a million times, playing it out in my head… Walking through the clubhouse door. Rafe and all his brothers sitting at the bar, and all turning to stare at me. Maybe even some trashy woman with her arms around him.
What if he ordered me out? I’d die inside. What if he told me we were over in front of everyone? I couldn’t handle it. But sitting here, doing nothing to win him back, isn’t an option, either.
I pull out my phone and stare at my contacts.
Then an idea comes to me.
ME: Fiona, can we meet? Are you busy? I need to talk to you about Rafe.
It only takes about ten seconds before the screen lights up with those three gray dots.
FIONA: Oooh, sounds intriguing. Sure, I can meet you. You up for some tacos?
ME: Absolutely. Where? When?
FIONA: Twenty minutes. Pistol Pete’s on Broadway.
The minute I disconnect, I’m in a whirlwind, trying to find something in my closet to wear. It has to be sexy but sweet. I want him to take one look at it and think twice about dumping me. After trying on ten outfits, I stomp my foot. “Grrr. Stop overthinking this.”
I settle on an off-the-shoulder, boho peasant style blouse.
It’s cream with flowers and a ruched tie front.
I style it with a pair of faded blue denim cutoffs.
I add a couple of delicate necklaces, stacks of beaded bracelets and hoop earrings.
Staring in the mirror, I take a deep breath, then slip on some sandals and head out the door.
When I arrive, I park half a block down.
Fiona is waiting for me by the door.
The place has adobe walls and colorful ceramic tiled floors. Mariachi music is piped in overhead, and I can smell the delicious aroma of steak fajitas sizzling on the grill. We’re escorted to a table by the window and handed menus.
The waiter takes our drink and food orders, and then Fiona settles back.
“Okay, spill. What’s going on with you and my brother?”
“We had a fight. Well, not a fight exactly. I had to go to this function with this other guy. He’s older, a friend of my father—”
“Ew.” Fiona makes a face.
“Okay, not that old. Anyway, he’s got money. Like, a lot of it. I was just supposed to entertain him for my father, who’s trying to work a deal to sell him some land. It’s a long story. Anyway, he asked if I’d be his date for this charity event. I sort of felt roped into it.”
“And Rafe was pissed?”
“Rafe is pissed.” I sigh. “I really fucked up. When I told him about it, he wanted me to cancel, to blow him off.”
“But you didn’t.”
“I didn’t want to be rude.”
“I get that.”
The waiter delivers our margaritas.
“Thank you.” Fiona smiles brightly at him.
“My pleasure, senorita.”
Fiona’s eyes trail after the attractive man as he withdraws.
I snap my fingers in front of her face.
She grins. “What? He was cute.”
“I need your help.”
“I’m here. Go on.”
“Okay, so now I wish I’d listened to Rafe. I wish I’d never gone. I tried to text him a hundred times today. I even called him a bunch of times. He won’t respond.”
“And you want help with that?” she asks, dipping a chip in salsa.
“Yes, please. Could you? I need a chance to tell him I was wrong.”
Without saying a word, she picks up her phone and scrolls to a number, then puts it to her ear.
“Hey, doofus. Come on over to Pistol Pete’s. I’ll let you buy me a taco to make up for the time you blew me off.” She dips another chip. “Yes, now. I’m sitting here, waiting.”
She disconnects and tosses her phone on the table. “He’ll be here.”
“You’re sure?” I stare from her to her phone. “That seemed too easy.”
She shrugs. “I’m his little sister. He’s got that whole big brother thing. He never says no to me.”
I tilt my head. “I never had a sister. I wish I did.”
She huffs a laugh. “Be careful what you wish for. I have a little sister. Ella constantly steals my clothes.”
I giggle. “You must share all kinds of things.”
“I guess so.”
“Tell me about Kyle. Why don’t he and Rafe get along?”
“Oh, boy. How much time have you got? That’s a really long story. But the funny thing is, they used to get along great. They were really tight, ya know?”
“What happened?”
“Rafe had his accident, and then everything changed. Kyle started watching over him like a parent. Then Rafe just started letting him do everything for him. I think there was resentment on both sides. I don’t really know, but then when Sutton came along, things really went to hell.”
“Wait. What accident? A motorcycle accident?”
She gets a deer in the headlights look on her face, her mouth stuffed with chips, she talks around them. “Not exactly. Sorry. I probably shouldn’t have said anything. Rafe should be the one to tell you that story.”
“Okay, but what’s the deal with Sutton? She’s with Kyle, right?”
“She is now. But originally, she was dating Rafe.”
I make a face. “Oh. That’s not good.”
“Exactly. She threw Rafe over for Kyle. I mean, it all worked out in the end, but it was rough from what I heard.”
We both hear a motorcycle approaching.
“Maybe you better get out of sight, at least until he sits down,” Fiona suggests. “Give me a few minutes to ease him into this.”
“Okay. And Fiona?”
“Yeah, hon?”
“Thanks for doing this for me.”
“This works out, you owe me one, sweetie. Like maybe that rich guy’s phone number.”
I roll my eyes. “Not sure he’s worth the bother. He was kind of a douche. But if you really want it…”
She chuckles. “I like you, Tori. I’d like to see you and my brother get together.”
“Me, too. Fingers crossed.” I leave my untouched margarita on the table and head toward the ladies room. Before I enter the hall, I turn and watch Rafe back his motorcycle into a spot in front of the restaurant and say a prayer. “God, please let this work.”