I glance at Dash, but his discomfort is palpable, and rather than look at me, he reaches for his bagel. He’s a mess because a) I’ve pierced the veil of his second life, and b) he really doesn’t like to lie to Bella, and avoiding those lies right now feels a bit like we’re flies dodging a fly swatter. He would do anything for Bella. And his torment over keeping things from her, speaks of a flawed man who can still love everyone but himself, and I swear in this realization I find I fall harder for him than ever.
I don’t know what is behind Dash’s pain, not fully, maybe not at all, and I wonder if Bella knows, either. The only thing I do know is that Dash can’t go on like this. He has a battle to fight for himself and I’m determined to make him see that he’s worth that fight.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Bella busies about the kitchen while Dash is hyper-focused on his plate, his gaze downturned and not by accident.
The eyes are the window to the soul.
And while that might be true, I believe most of us are shuttered, protecting ourselves from vulnerability. I don’t believe I ever looked into Brandon’s eyes and saw his soul, or I would have seen the poison thriving inside him. Dash wears a façade of this easy-going guy who gets along with most everyone, Tyler excluded, of course, when the truth is, deep inside he’s all pain and torment. No one sees the truth of who he is because he doesn’t want them to see those things.
And yet, I did.
And I do.
And I know that right now, he’s just trying to get through this encounter with his sister without it exploding in his face while expecting a similar situation with me later today. I don’t want him to dread the conversation with me. The minute I have the chance, I’ll make sure he knows that while I want to know him and understand why he fights, I won’t demand answers.
Bella rejoins us at the island with her coffee in hand. Eager to please her, and thus keep her mind off Dash’s injuries, I quickly bite into what proves to be a delicious chocolate chip bagel with cream cheese. “These are wonderful, and a bit sinful, I do believe,” I say, offering my eager approval, as she claims the seat next to me.
“Aren’t they?” she asks. “I ate one about an hour ago. I was up early and didn’t want to wake you guys up. I’m waiting on news from the record label about my client that performed last night. I wanted to be up and fresh if I have to negotiate.”
Today, “up and fresh” for her means black leggings and a black sweater with her blonde hair in a ponytail, all of which she makes look stunning.
“How do you feel about his chances?” Dash asks, sipping his coffee.
“I have no idea,” she replies, sounding exasperated. “These record execs are as hard to read as the men I date, but he’s talented. He got that ‘thing’ that grabs people.”
“He does,” I say. “I really do believe he does.”
“If only you worked for the record label,” she replies. “Tell me more about the break-in. I just can’t imagine how terrifying it must have been.”
I sigh. “Yeah, well, I was downstairs when I heard the intruder and ended up huddling in the wine cellar in the dark. Where,” I add, “I had limited phone service. I called Dash and was disconnected but thankfully he was already on his way back from the store.” The partial lie sits uncomfortably on my tongue and I rush past it. “I tried to convince myself my intruder was just the other Allison returning for something she was missing, and she didn’t know I’d moved in. But why run when Dash came back? Why run from the police?” I snort. “Maybe she just didn’t want to see Tyler. It is his house, after all.”
Bella sets her cup down with a thud. “Wait what? You’re living in Tyler’s house? And so was she?” She blinks and gives Dash an incredulous look. “And you’re okay with this?”
“It’s a perk of the job. I’m a tenant.” I open my mouth to say more, to explain that it’s a non-issue now as I resigned from my job, and quickly stop myself. I have no idea how I explain my actions, and no plan to cover Dash in that story comes to me. “And it was a perk of Allison’s job as well,” I say instead. “Tyler’s grandmother lived there. He uses it for the wine cellar and apparently can’t insure it if it’s not occupied. Bottom line, it got me out of my mother’s place without the expense of my apartment in New York and something here.”
Bella’s lips press together and she just looks at Dash.
My defenses bristle. “I’m not sleeping with Tyler, Bella. I have never slept with Tyler. I’m not thinking about Tyler. I’m not even sure I like Tyler. And neither was Allison seeing Tyler when she left.”
Bella’s attention whips to me. “I thought she was seeing Tyler?”
“No,” I say. “Not Tyler. Or not only Tyler. I don’t know the details, but I get the impression she and Tyler broke up.”
“Show her the necklace,” Dash says, rotating to face me. “Under the circumstance, I’d say that’s a good idea.”
In other words, since she thinks I’m playing two men at once, an idea that twists me in knots.
“What necklace?” Bella asks, a nice way of urging me to do as Dash suggests.
I’m not against the idea, and in fact, welcome feedback on what to do about the darn thing. With this in mind, I slide off the barstool and walk to the living room where I’ve left my purse, and the necklace inside, at some point.
Once it’s in hand, I rejoin Dash and Bella, sliding the velvet box in front of her. With a curious look on her beautiful face, she flips open the lid and gasps. “Oh my. This is beautiful. And expensive.” Her eyes find mine. “Did Dash give you this?” She glances in his direction. “Did you give this to Allie? And if so, why is she still in his house?”
He bypasses the topic of where I should be living. “The necklace was the vehicle that brought Allison into our lives.”
Bella shuts the lid. “What does that even mean? You gave a necklace to a stranger?”
“I decided to stay in Nashville through the holidays to be with my mother,” I explain, “but a little extra money to protect my savings felt smart. Thus why I took a job at the Frist Art Museum a few miles from Hawk Legal. That’s where I was working when a delivery came for me. It was addressed to Allison W.”
Her eyes go wide. “And it was the necklace?” She taps the box. “This necklace?”
“Yes,” I confirm. “With a note that read: Forgive me. Nothing more. No signature. No return address. I figured out the address was wrong and I went to Hawk Legal looking for Allison. But I didn’t want to tell them about the necklace. It felt personal. Especially with the note taken into consideration.”
“You should ask Tyler about it,” she says. “He had to have sent it.”
“Tyler wouldn’t send it to the office when he knew she didn’t work there,” Dash interjects.
“And Tyler knows about it anyway,” I add. “I went to that meet and greet thing with him and his father, and it fell out of my purse. I had it with me to go put it in a lockbox and never got the chance. After the meeting, when I talked to Tyler about it, he seemed pretty broken up about the idea of another man in her life.”