InHap*pily Ever After (Incidental Happenstance) (47 page)

“I
know, baby,” she cried, her tears soaking his shirt. “I should trust that
you’re going to do the right thing, and I do understand having a more secure future—I’m
just being selfish, because I want it to start sooner rather than later.”

Holy
hell
, he thought, her words gnawing
at his insides. Here she was, telling him she trusted him to do the right
thing, and he had betrayed that trust on more levels than he could even fathom.
“It’ll be here before you know it,” he said, pulling her closer. He hoped to
hell that she could trust him to do the right thing. From this moment on,
anyway.

She’d
really gone all out for the dinner. She made actual lasagna, complete with the
spicy Italian sausage from the deli that he loved. The salad didn’t come out of
a bag, and the veggies were freshly chopped. The Italian bread was crusty and
warm, and she’d roasted real garlic to spread on top. There was a bottle of
merlot breathing on the counter, and her grandma’s good crystal glasses were
sitting at the ready. Damn it, she’d put a lot of effort into making a special
meal, and he felt so sick to his stomach over how many ways he was lying to her
that he didn’t think he could eat it.

She
tried to keep the conversation light, and didn’t bring up their argument at
all, which was also very un-Lexi-like. She was usually the one to keep
harboring and picking at a situation until he begged for mercy. Finally, he had
to ask.

“I’m
really glad you did,” he started, “but what made you come around a full 360? I
never in a million years thought you’d be so calm about this whole thing.”

She
took a sip of wine to wash down a mouthful of lasagna and smiled at him.
“Pretty miraculous, huh?  I should be pissed about that comment, but I have to
admit that I was ready to be mad for a long time.” She wiped her face with her
napkin and set it back in her lap.

“I
didn’t want to talk to anyone after I left. I was furious, and was wallowing in
self-pity. After I was through being pissed, I was an emotional wreck, and I
finally went over to Tia’s to vent. I was even more pissed when they took your
side over mine, believe me.”

“What
do you mean?”

“Dylan
said he totally understood how hard it was to put your own life on hold for the
sake of your work, but that more often than not, the sacrifice was worth it in
the end.”

Damn
it!
Ryan thought. Every time he
wanted to hate the guy; he did something that was freaking likeable. He
certainly didn’t like the fact that Lexi was discussing their goddamn personal
life with him, but in this case, he kind of owed the dude. It sucked that
Miller was right, that he was cool, and that Lexi trusted him so much. He
wasn’t sure how to feel about any of it—he felt like he was in a tiny rowboat
on a stormy ocean, bobbing and pitching and far from solid ground.

Lexi
continued. “He also said that he felt really bad about setting their date so
close to ours—the timing isn’t his fault, but he’s embarrassed by all the media
hype and even though he hopes it’ll die down soon, he’s not terribly
optimistic. What hit home the most, though, was when he said that you and I
have to make it work for both of us; and that if I forced you to keep the date
and then you didn’t make partner, you’d never forgive me for it.” She took his
hand and softly kissed the back of it. “I was being completely selfish, and I’m
sorry. It was for good reason, though; it was because I love you and I want to
be married to you.”

Ryan
felt a freaking tsunami of regret crash over him. Dylan had managed to do what
he never could—soothe the savage beast that was a pissed-off Lexi. He felt even
worse now; knowing that Dylan was standing up for him and the whole thing was a
fucking sham. He’d never considered how far-reaching one little lie could be,
but now he had betrayed them all. The few bites of food he’d managed to force
down started churning in his stomach, and he felt dizzy and nauseous. He’d
really fucked this all to hell.

“Honey,
are you OK?” Lexi asked, noticing how the blood had drained from his face and
jumping up from the table to rush to his side.

“I
don’t know,” he said, feeling even worse now that he’d now managed to ruin the
dinner that she’d obviously worked so hard on. “I’m feeling a little sick,
actually.”

“Come
and lie down,” she said, helping him up. He actually swooned, and felt like he
was going to pass out. “Oh Ry, can I get you something? You want a glass of
water?”

“I
just need to sit,” he said, falling back into the chair. “I’ll be OK in a
minute.” He looked back down at the table, set with the good china and the
homemade food. “Damn it,” he murmured on breath as thin as paper, “I ruined
your dinner. I’m so sorry.”

“Screw
the dinner,” she said. “Are you sure you’re all right?”

He
took a few deep breaths and put his face in his hands. His head was pounding,
but the dizziness was going away, at least. “Can I get a couple aspirins?” he
asked weakly. “Then maybe I will lie down for a while.”

As
the cold winds of February blew into Chicago, Ryan found himself caught in a
complex web of lies that had him tied up in knots. Dylan was leaving for
Seattle soon to work on the new album, and Lexi was spending lots of time
helping Tia with her wedding plans. Since she’d accepted the postponement of
her own wedding, Ryan was incredibly impressed with the positive and
enthusiastic attitude with which she approached Tia’s planning. Plus, the extra
time the girls spent together made her even more accepting of his long hours,
and that made his guilt gnaw at him constantly. Tiffany, although not demanding
too much of his time, was still a regular presence. He didn’t really have a lot
of extra work to do at the office, so the gym was his only viable escape. He
and Tiffany had spent some time putting together ideas for improving Truitt’s
newly developing International Division, but his self-loathing only got worse
when she enthusiastically embraced the idea as something that could accelerate
their personal as well as professional relationship. Tiffany had no idea that
their entire relationship was based on a lie, and she didn’t deserve to be
deceived like that either. He threw himself into the work when they were
together, hoping to ease back on the intimate side of their relationship until
he could figure out how to end it completely without blowing the possibility of
landing a big account for the firm. Tiffany wasn’t exactly seeing things the
same way.

Wes
wasn’t helping, either. Tiffany stopped in one day to take him for an impromptu
lunch, and Wes came into his office to let him know she was there. “There’s an
incredibly hot woman who isn’t your fiancé here to see you on a ‘personal
matter,’” he said with a smirk. “And if you aren’t hitting that, tell me right
now, because I’d nail it in a heartbeat.”

Flushed
and flustered, he stammered for words. “She’s a Truitt, Wes, for God’s sake.
We’re putting together a proposal to pitch to the old man. It’s work.”

Wes
wasn’t buying it. “She’s not dressed for work, I’ll tell you that,” he said
with a sly grin, then he took a step back when he saw Ryan’s stabbing look.
“Hey,” he said, hands raised in surrender, “if you say it’s work, it’s work.
But I say again, if you’re not hitting that, give her my number.” He waggled
his eyebrows and flashed a lecherous smile.

Wes
was on his fourth marriage for a number of reasons, one of the main ones being
‘hitting’ women who weren’t his wife. Ryan had no doubt that he’d follow
through with it, although he knew Tiffany was smart enough not to get involved
with a married business associate.
Only an engaged one who was living a
double life, both of which were wracked with lies
, he thought bitterly as
he slipped his jacket from the back of his chair and walked toward the doorway
where Wes smirked openly at him. 

“You
wouldn’t stand a chance.” He forced a smile that he hoped was much more genuine
than he felt. “But I’ll pass along the invitation.” 

“Hey,
you think you’ll actually be able to get face time with Truitt? That would
impress the hell out of me. Connor too. Truitt usually only deals with the big
guns.”

“I’m
already halfway there,” he smirked, letting the door shut behind him.

“I
have a surprise,” Tiffany said when they’d been seated at the restaurant. “I
was talking to Daddy about you…”
            “You were what?” he asked, surprised. 

She
smiled sweetly. “Well of course, Ryan. You didn’t think I’d mention you?”

“I
had no idea,” he said, his mouth suddenly going dry. If word starting getting
out that they were a couple, it could find its way back to Lexi, and his whole
life would be blown to hell.

“I
did tell him we were seeing each other,” she continued, and he felt his face
flush, “but I also talked to him about the ideas we’ve been working on, and I
really think he liked what I had to say.”

“Thank
God,” he breathed, glad that the discussion involved work.          

“At
first he said your firm didn’t have enough international law experience under
your belts to handle it, but I told him how hard you’ve been working, and that
you’d be willing to get some extra training. I showed him the outlines we drew
up and told him about the research I’ve been doing. He’s known for a while that
this is going to be my baby and that I really want to separate and expand that
division to streamline operations, so he’s had some time to open up to the
idea. I really think he’ll let us pitch it!”

A
meeting with Preston Truitt was like a dream—he didn’t give up his time unless
he really believed there was serious potential for profit. The problem for Ryan
was that he’d alluded to doing a lot more work on the proposal than he’d
actually done, and he wasn’t even close to being ready to present it. He mainly
used the project as an excuse to Tiff so he could spend time with Lexi and visa
versa. He was going to seriously need to start putting some major effort into this
thing.

“I’m
hardly ready for a presentation, Tiff,” he said, fiddling with the end of his
tie. “I’ve got a lot more to do…” His nerves were instantly on edge, but he
also saw one huge saving grace in the whole thing. If he seriously worked on
this project—gave it the time and energy it needed and deserved—it would at
least temper down his other problems. He’d have an actual project that he could
honestly share with Lexi, the time he spent with Tiff would take on a much more
professional nature, and if he pulled it off, he’d secure some major business
for the firm. “When does he want to meet?”

“You
know Daddy,” she smiled, “he never does business with anyone unless he knows
them personally. He thinks he can tell everything about a person from one
meeting, so he wants a chance to get to know you informally first.”

Oh
crap—as if he needed another reason to make him dread a meeting even more. What
if Preston Truitt figured out that he was a two-timing liar who was using his
daughter to cover up an elaborate scheme aimed at making his actual fiancé wait
another year before he married her in order to soothe his own bruised ego? When
he thought about it like that, he really felt like shit.  “What did he have in
mind?” he asked, trying to look excited, but feeling woozy yet again.

“I
have a cousin who’s getting married a week from Saturday,” she said. “The
reception’s at the Intercontinental—very fancy black tie affair. I was going to
ask you to be my date anyway, and we’ll all be at the same table so you’ll get
a chance to get to know each other over dinner and drinks.” She smiled. “I know
you’ll impress him as much as you’ve impressed me,” she said, putting her hand
on his thigh under the table. “And, I got us a room for the night there,” she
added, sliding the hand up slowly. He caught it just before it reached his
package and hitched in a breath.

Shit!
This was fucked up on so many levels he couldn’t even begin to count them.  A
hundred thoughts flashed through his mind as he tried to put his life into
perspective. He liked spending time with Tiffany, he had to admit that. She was
incredibly easy to look at, dynamite in bed, and completely driven in her work;
which he both respected and admired. With her, he never had to even think about
sharing the spotlight with Dylan Miller. He could enjoy himself and
be
himself, with the one minor exception of the huge fucking lie upon which their
entire relationship was based.

But
he was engaged to Lexi, and he still loved her; he really did. He’d broken
every promise he’d ever made to her, but she didn’t know that, and if he could
get through the next few months, get the Truitt account and make partner, he’d
be a hero, and then he could spend the rest of his life making it up to her.

But
as long as he had Tiffany mixed up in his business; professionally and
personally; he had to play the right role. They hadn’t been “dating,” in his
opinion—it had only been a few weeks since they’d met and so far he’d avoided
taking her out to public places that couldn’t be passed off as business
meetings. A wedding, however, could be potentially disastrous. There would be
hundreds of guests, and there was more than a small chance that he’d know at
least a few of them. There would be dancing and he’d be there as Tiffany’s
date; he’d have to be attentive in a way that would never pass as business;
especially in front of her father.