InHap*pily Ever After (Incidental Happenstance) (64 page)

            “I was a
something else entirely when you met me,” Marcus teased. “You were just too
charmed by my good looks to notice.”

            Lilly just
rolled her eyes. “Men,” she whispered. “Can’t live with ‘em and you can’t live
with ‘em.”         

            “Don’t you
mean, ‘without ‘em?’”

            “I know what I
said. Now how about some coffee and warm strudel?”

            “I won’t say
no to that.”

            “Then you can
tell me all about the world of the rich and famous. I’ve been following you,
you know—life is good, huh?”

            “First I want
to hear all about how things are going at school. Is Drake staying out of
trouble?”

            “Oh, I got
stories, honey. You really want to hear them?”

            “I do,” Tia
grinned. “I really do.”

            They got so
caught up in story telling that it was almost two hours before Tia took a break
to make her calls. “I’m fine,” she told her mother. “I’m just taking a little
break from it all. Some peace and quiet. I’ll be in touch soon.” To Lexi she
added, “Call Jessa for me and relay the message. I left my phone behind, so I’m
borrowing one, and it doesn’t have texting. Have her tell Dylan that I’m fine and
I’ll be in touch soon. He’s really busy the next few days anyway.”

            “Where are
you, T?” Lexi asked. “You know Dyl’s going to freak if he just hears from Jessa
that you’re on ‘sabbatical.’ You gotta give me more than that.”

            “Then it
wouldn’t be a sabbatical, would it? I’m fine, Lex, and he will be, too.” She
wondered about the truth of her last words even as they escaped her lips. “I’ve
got to go.” Tia cut the connection over Lexi’s protests and powered down the
phone.

            As promised,
the storm hit at about 3:00. Thick, heavy snow fell so fast that they actually
watched the driveway disappear under a blanket of white, and they couldn’t even
see all the way to the street.  Tia helped Lilly in the kitchen as she prepared
the perfect meal of homemade chicken soup, salad, and freshly-baked bread,
while Marcus watched his alma mater sock it to Purdue. Tia was struck by how
comfortable they were with each other, and by how much they still loved each
other, even after all these years. She’d really believed that she would have
that with Dylan, and she pushed back the crushing sadness that she was planning
to deal with later. Spending time with Lilly and Marcus made her feel better;
lighter; and she just wanted to enjoy the feeling for a while.

            When the power
went out around 7:00, Marcus started a roaring fire and Lilly placed candles
all over the house. They challenged each other to identify the different scents
of the candles in the potpourri of odors and played Monopoly by the fire. Tia
was reminded of her childhood and the joys of the simple, normal life that
she’d probably never get to have. Those were her last thoughts as she cried
herself to sleep later that night.

            “Holy shit,
Dylan, I’ve been trying to get hold of you for hours! Were you hiding out on
me? We’ve got a disaster to try and avert, and I can’t reach you!”

            “I was at a
shoot all day, Jessa, and I didn’t have…what are you talking about? This whole
day’s been a disaster. I don’t think I could take another one.” He jammed his
thumb and forefinger into his eye sockets to try and push back the headache
that was pounding there. He’d sent over thirty texts to Tia with no answer, and
had called Lexi to see if she knew why Tia wasn’t answering her phone. “Um,
didn’t you talk to Jessa?” she asked. When she explained that Tia was ‘on a
break’ and wasn’t taking any calls, he snapped at her.

            “What the hell
is going on? What do you mean, ‘she’s taking a break?’ From what?”

            “Don’t shoot
the messenger, Miller. She hung up on me before I got any details, and she
doesn’t have her phone. I tried calling the number back a little bit ago and
just got a message that the voice mailbox hasn’t been set up; so I can’t even
leave her a message. I don’t know what else I can tell you.”  Shortly after
that his phone died, and he didn’t have a charger, so he had to wait until he
got back to the hotel to plug it in and retrieve his messages, and there was
still no reply from Tia.

            And now there
was another disaster to avert?

            “Well, there
isn’t going to be much of a choice in this matter. Where the hell were you last
night, and what the fuck did you do?”

            Dylan could
hear the anger in her voice, and could almost feel her shaking through the
connection. “I was at Skip’s party at the studio, and I had a few drinks with
some old friends. Apparently, I had a bit too much, because I don’t really
remember anything after Dozer left, and that was about midnight, I think. Bo
walked me back to the hotel, and we went to the shoot in the morning. What’s up
your ass, Jessa? Why do you sound so bloody pissed?”

            “Oh gosh, I
don’t know,” Jessa said sarcastically, her voice venomous, “maybe because I
love Tia almost as much as I love you and I can’t believe you’d hurt her like
that. Did you think the pictures wouldn’t get out, Dyl? Did you really think
you could do something like that and blame it on being drunk and get away with
it? Holy shit, Dylan, I just don’t even know what to think about you right
now.”

            “You’re going
to have to back up, Jessa, because I have no bloody idea what you’re talking
about. You’re saying I did something last night that might hurt Tia?”

            “I’m sending
you a link, Dylan. You need to have a look at it, think about it for a very
short time, and call me back so we can figure out if there’s any way to spin
it. I don’t think so, but maybe you can come up with something. In the
meantime, I’m supposed to tell you that Tia is fine. She’s left her phone at
home and gone on a short trip to a place that no one knows about, apparently.
That says to me that she’s already seen them and it may be too late.”

            Dylan felt icy
fear swirl through his gut just from the tone of her voice. “Seen what?”

            “Sending the
link now. You might want to sit down.” Jessa hung up.

            He didn’t take
her advice, but within seconds of the words appearing on the screen, he was on
the floor, leaning against the wall for support. “
Our Menage-a-trois with
Dylan Miller
,” the title read. The O’s were made with little handcuffs, the
I with a dildo, and the S was a whip that had been curled into shape. The words
beneath the title were too small to read on his phone, but he could sure as
hell see the picture—it was his own face, pressed between two sets of very
large, very naked breasts.

            He crawled
across the floor to where his laptop sat at the desk in the corner of the room.
Unable to trust his legs, he reached up and grabbed the computer and brought it
down to his level on the floor. He tapped his fingers nervously as he waited
for it to boot up; there were other pictures, but he couldn’t make out any detail
on the tiny screen of his phone. There had to be an explanation for this—he had
no memory of
ever
being sandwiched between two pair of fake tits, and he
sure as hell didn’t recall being there
last night.
More doctored photos?
And pornographic ones at that? He’d sue their asses off if that were the
case…and it had to be.

            He finally got
the link open on his laptop and he froze, his hand holding his heart in his
chest while it threatened with every beat to bust out through his rib cage. The
air was eluding him and he fought for breath. He recognized the women
immediately, and also recognized the shirt he’d been wearing and the couch in
the little lounge off the kitchen where he’d had lunch at least a dozen times
over the past few weeks. It was like watching someone play him in a movie, he
thought, looking at picture after picture of him
doing things
with these
women…kissing them both at the same time, their tongues touching each other as
they slid over his lips; his hand holding one unnaturally large breast, his
telltale tattoo like a bloody name tag; one of the women on top of him, his
hand firmly on her ass… His life flashed before his eyes—not his past, but his
future—and it was looking mighty fucking grim at the moment.

            She must have
seen these. Somehow, Tia must have gotten a glimpse and run for the hills. And
who could blame her? She’d already dealt with the fake pictures Penelope had
put out there, and those had nearly crushed her. He’d promised her that he’d
never put himself in a situation that would hurt her like that again. He’d
promised that he’d always have her best interests at heart. And she’d seen
these pictures. Dylan felt the explosion coming and he scrambled to his feet,
barely making it to the toilet before throwing up violently until only bitter
bile crept up his esophagus. Because at the bottom of it all he had an
explanation for Penelope’s pictures—they never happened. For these, though, he
had nothing; no way of salvaging the situation. No matter how hard he tried, he
couldn’t remember any of it, and that explanation was going to go over like a
fucking bull in a china shop.

            He tore off
his clothes and jumped into the shower, turning the water on cold and shocking
himself back to full consciousness. Not even bothering to towel off, he pulled
on a pair of lounge pants and called Jessa. She picked up the call, but didn’t
say a word to greet him.

            “I don’t
know.”

            “You don’t
know? You don’t
know?
That’s a great answer, Dylan. I’m sure Tia will be
fine with that.”

            “Bloody
fucking hell, Jessa, it’s all I’ve got! I don’t remember a single minute of it!
Bo said he had to walk me home because I was so drunk—I didn’t remember that
either. I know I was with Dozer Cane, and I do remember those women stopping by
our table, but I swear to you, I don’t have a single memory that matches any
one of those damn pictures! You need to make them take them off their site.
Threaten to sue or something.”

            “Already in
the works, but they have almost a million followers, Dylan, and if even ten
percent of them—
five
percent even—shared the link, it could be viral
within hours. And did you read the comments? Some girl said she was at a photo
shoot with you today, and that she told you that you were a shit to do that to
Tia and that your response to her was that she deserved that and more.”

            “Bloody
fucking hell, I thought she was one of ‘Penelope’s Posse,’ or whatever they
call themselves.”

            “How much did
you have to drink last night?”

            “I don’t know.
Way too bloody much, obviously.” All the strength drained out of him and he
fell defeated onto the couch.

            “You know
what, Dylan? Good luck with Tia, because I’m already getting sick of this
conversation.”

            “I’m sorry; I
know it isn’t what you want to hear, but I haven’t got anything else. They were
making them strong; and Dozer and I tossed back a few; but I know my limits,
Jessa, and you know I rarely pass them. It’s been a hell of a long time since I
was shitfaced at a public gathering. It just kind of hit me all of a sudden,
and I must have blacked out. I swear to you on my sister’s grave, Jessa, that I
am telling you the truth. I. Don’t. Know.”

            Jessa inhaled
deeply and let the breath out on a long, sad sigh. That was a game changer.
She’d known Dylan for a long time, and she knew beyond the shadow of a doubt
that he would never
ever
swear on Shelby’s grave unless he meant it. He
really had no memory of cheating on Tia with a couple of porn stars.
Fanfuckingtabulous.

            Would his word
be enough? Would the fact that he didn’t remember fondling some Swedish sluts
be enough to make up for the pain and suffering that Tia was probably already
dealing with? How about the additional pain and embarrassment that was still to
come? Should she even tell him that the tabloids already had the pictures and
that they’d hit both the airwaves and the covers within hours?

            She loved
Dylan
and
Tia, and she loved them even more as a couple, but she had
some serious doubts. After all, she hadn’t been able to believe Derek when he
told her the same thing seven years ago, and she hadn’t been able to trust a
man with her heart ever since. This was bad. Really bad.

            She could hear
the tears in Dylan’s voice. “What do I do, Jess?” he asked weakly.

            “I don’t know,
Dyl. I don’t know.”

            When Tia
awoke, she could see her breath in the room. She reached down to the floor
where she’d left her sweatpants and hoodie and pulled them under the relative
warmth of the covers, letting them get at least to her body temperature before
pulling them on.

            “Whoo whee!”
Lilly shivered as she came running out of her own room wrapped in a thick robe
and wearing fuzzy duck slippers on her feet. “Marcus, you got one minute to get
that fire blazing, or I’m kicking you to the curb!”