“It’s okay. I enjoy sitting in your car, too. The seats are just so comfortable, much more comfy than what I have my outdated Mercedes.”
If she made one more comment about her car, which cost more than most people made in two years, he might “accidentally” push her off the curb into oncoming traffic.
“Welcome back, Ms. Raffel. Are you here to see that necklace?”
Tanner was somehow able to wipe all expression from his face, but his body was tense as he escorted Merinda to the counter. The salesman was practically salivating. Of course he was. He worked on commission.
“No, Clinton, I’m picking up my father’s cuff links,” she said with a pout. But a brilliant smile turned up her lips. “But since I’m here, can I see my necklace again.”
“Of course.” The man went into the back and returned with a velvet case, which he set on the pristine glass counter. When he flipped open the lid, Merinda gave a happy little gasp. Then she looked up and she met Tanner’s eyes with a calculating look.
He’d had enough.
Tanner had bought a lot of jewelry, and he knew it well. The necklace Merinda was so desperately trying to get him to buy her came to at least a hundred thousand dollars. That was a low-end bid. And a month ago, he’d have had no problem buying something like that if a woman was good enough in bed to be worth the high price tag.
He’d thought her beautiful. Sheesh. Now, all he could see was ugliness. How could anyone justify wearing something so extravagant for a single night when the streets were filled with people who would be grateful for a single piece of toast?
“Do you have the cuff links?” The cold authority in Tanner’s voice instantly stopped the conversation that Merinda was holding with the salesman.
Her lips turned down into a pout as poor Clinton put the necklace away. And then she and Tanner exchanged not another word as he escorted her back to his car and drove her directly home. He didn’t even need to plead a headache to get out of bedding this sad excuse for a woman. Her libido had frozen up when he didn’t buy her that flawless diamond necklace.
By the time he got back home that night and sat down looking down upon the city, Tanner knew he was in trouble. His world was shifting, and it wasn’t in a way he wanted it to shift. He only hoped it was only a temporary thing.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Tanner had no idea why he was standing in front of this stranger’s house with an armful of gifts, but standing there he was. He paced nervously as he looked at the front door and the merry wreath still hanging on it, though the holiday was now over. Finally, unable to tolerate his indecisiveness, he moved up and rang the doorbell. He heard the shuffling of feet on the other side, and he waited for the door to open.
“Can I help you?” a woman asked, looking at Tanner with suspicion.
“Is Billy home?”
“Who are you?” The woman didn’t open the door any farther.
“I know him and his grandmother. They live in my building,” Tanner answered. So “live” was the wrong verb tense. Close enough.
“Billy has been having a difficult time — his Christmas was so rough. I don’t know if it would be a wise idea for him to see anyone right now,” the woman told him.
“I can understand that, but I brought him some gifts,” Tanner said. “They might help make things better.”
The woman looked at him skeptically. “I can make sure he gets them,” she said coolly, but she didn’t back down and let Tanner in.
Tanner wanted to push past her, wanted to find Billy and tell him everything would be okay. But wouldn’t he be lying? He didn’t know if it would all be okay or not. He didn’t seem to know anything right now other than he was a selfish bastard who’d walked away from a woman who was in deep pain and he hadn’t once checked on the child the two of them had found in a basement crying and afraid. Tanner couldn’t even think about seeing Kyla, though; he’d burned those bridges completely, all-fired jerk that he was. And so he found himself instead on Billy’s doorstep, because, well, because…he didn’t know the why of it.
Maybe he’d gotten the gifts for Billy to try to ease his conscience. He didn’t seem to know anything anymore. One thing that he did know for sure was that this holiday season was certainly becoming his loneliest one ever.
He could have spent Christmas with his family, or at least the family that was in town, but he was too caught up in himself, in his feelings of freedom. Everyone he knew and loved was just beginning to really heal for the first time, and he hadn’t had the decency to join in, to remember what Christmas was all about.
“Thank you,” he told the woman when he realized he’d been standing there too long without speaking. He handed her the gifts and turned to leave.
“I’m sure this will mean a lot to Billy.”
Tanner didn’t turn around and acknowledge the woman. He wasn’t even sure why he’d shown up. He should have just left well enough alone and walked away from this life he’d been forced into for the past few weeks.
That’s exactly what he would do. Time healed all wounds, or some crap like that. He’d heard people say it a thousand times, so didn’t that mean that it had to be true? He was just going to assume it was. Feeling better already, Tanner revved up the motor on his car and decided to take a long drive. There was nothing like going over a hundred miles an hour to get your blood flowing.
He knew he was in even deeper trouble when the usual thrill he felt driving way too fast didn’t happen. But he could do this. He was determined to erase the past month from his mind, and he headed toward home. He would forget Kyla and Billy too!
* * * * *
New Year’s Eve.
As always, the office building had been dead, and Tanner himself felt like the walking dead — no, the sitting dead — as he stared out the window and pretended to work. Finally giving up and stepping into his sleek sports car, he started the engine. But he didn’t move, and the car didn’t either. He was just sitting there. He didn’t want to go home to his cold condo, didn’t want to be alone on yet another big holiday.
When he finally pulled out into traffic, he found himself moving in the opposite direction. Tanner crossed the long bridge onto the island one of his uncles lived on, and he soon pulled up to Joseph Anderson’s colossal home.
On Christmas last year, the castle had been lit up with colored lights and it sported a giant wreath on the massive front door. And when Tanner had gone inside, he’d followed the sound of laughter coming from what he’d later learned was Joseph’s favorite sitting room. Tanner had stood in the doorway and watched the activity unfolding before him.