Page 28

Tonight’s taken its toll on me for reasons I don’t yet comprehend. I am such a mess, and I’m not a girl who does well in the midst of chaos. I know that’s not a surprise. Between the cold and Nick appearing on the patio, I jolted back from my trip to Crazyland and reacquainted myself with some truths: Colby Chase had nothing to do with my world falling apart—that was me giving away my trust to the wrong man—and while he might be talented at shifting from one persona to another, he is not Royal Montgomery. I was wrong to blend the two together and hurl my pent-up fury his way.

Wow. Look at me acting like a grown-up. Too bad I wasn’t as mature before I brought disaster down on my head. It’s foolish to even consider sharing my humiliating secret with this man, but I have to let it out or it will eat me alive. Even Donny doesn’t know all the details.

Something about Colby makes me feel safe, which is weird because his chaotic on-ice behavior screams anything but safe. Maybe I trust him because he’s not my brother or my parents. Not only does he have his own baggage, but he’s not anyone I can ever get close to, even if my body might be interested. Once I’m back on my feet and out of my brother’s everyday life, I won’t have to see Colby again, unless it’s at a game or a team event, and then we’ll be far removed from one another.

He’s like a priest behind a screen in a confessional. Okay, that’s a stretch because I can’t imagine a priest kissing like he does, but the analogy works when we’re comparing mental distance, right?

A priest? Really, Jackie?

Colby’s gray eyes glimmer in the dark, following my every move with laser focus. He leans back against the arm of the couch in what should be a casual pose, but his body is coiled. I can’t tell if he’s anticipating what I’m about to tell him, if he’s letting me gather the courage I need to bare my mortifying secret, or if he’s calculating his quickest exit route. Thank God he can’t read my ping-ponging thoughts, or he’d have been out the door already.

Then it hits me. “Don’t worry. Donovan won’t be home anytime soon.”

Colby sits forward. “How do you know?”

Bingo. I hold up my phone. “Because he just texted me to ask if I got home okay and letting me know he might not be home tonight. Newsflash: I expected as much.”

Colby turns his head slightly and side-eyes me. “Does he do that a lot?”

“A lot, which is another reason I need to get back on my feet and into my own place. He never brings anyone home, thank God, but I’m sure he’d like to have that luxury back.”

“I take it you being here has to do with—what’d you call him? Chameleon Guy?”

“I didn’t, but I like that moniker. And yes, my being here has everything to do with him.”

“I’m listening.” God, he sounds like that character who’s a talk show shrink on that sitcom with the Space Needle in the graphic—only way better. He’s way more handsome too.

Hello, Jackie’s scattered brain. Please pull yourself together and come back on board.

Inhaling deeply, I fling my gaze beyond the floor-to-ceiling window. “After college, I landed a job at Roscoe Biotech, an up-and-coming gene therapy company in San Francisco. I was employee number seventeen.” A proud smile tips my lips. “We were growing fast, and I worked my butt off. I had no idea what downtime was because I put in seventy-hour weeks. I wore ten different hats. As the company grew, so did my career. I was good at implementing systems and keeping them in order, and I earned management’s trust. I also earned the director of finance position—the first one ever at the company. It was my dream job at my dream company. My parents were so proud. My brother used to brag on me. My hard work had finally paid off, and I was right where I wanted to be.”

I take a long sip of my drink. In my peripheral vision, Colby does the same. He still leans forward, as if he’s interested in what I have to say, but I can’t face him.

“I reported to the chief financial officer, who was grooming me to eventually take over his position. We were growing so fast they were hiring like gangbusters. And then they brought in a chief operating officer, Royal Montgomery.” Saying his name is like spitting out nails or some other pointy object. Out of the right corner of my eye, Colby gives an encouraging nod.

“One of the reasons they hired him was that he came from money and had connections. The founders planned to take the company public, but their capital was running short and they needed funds for Roscoe to continue its upward trajectory. They figured Royal could plug them into the right investors.

“As first impressions go, he was a master. He had this way about him that was charming and polished and smooth. Always under control, never ruffled, and he said the right thing at the right time. Everyone gravitated toward him and took whatever he told them at face value. Though we shared the same boss, he had this talent of getting people to jump through hoops—even those who didn’t work directly for him.”

“Including you,” Colby adds softly.

“Including me. I don’t do well with chaos, which was a constant during our high-growth phase, so I saw this put-together man, and I was attracted to him. I had this vision of the two of us bringing law and order to the Wild West.” A bitter laugh escapes me, and I take another sip to burn the taste from my mouth. “We became romantically involved, but we kept it quiet because the office frowned on interpersonal relationships. As time went on, Royal’s status grew, and soon my boss was grooming him to take over his position instead of me. Royal insisted I was imagining things, that those lunches only the two of them shared weren’t anything and that our boss was still expecting me to fill his shoes.

“We were in a relationship, practically living together. One night he casually mentioned a payment he wanted me to approve the next day for a vendor. I wasn’t familiar with the name and told him I’d follow up with our boss. He assured me the board had already approved it and that we didn’t need to get our boss involved. He was already overloaded, and we could just ‘handle it’ without bothering him.

“I trusted Royal. If I countered him, I’d be saying I didn’t trust him. Another thing: He was right about our boss. The man’s stress level was through the roof, and he was showing signs of heart problems. So I did it. The vendor was a new add in our system, and I told myself I was helping everyone out, smoothing things over.”

Ice clinks as I twirl my glass. When I look down, I realize the bourbon’s gone.

Colby reaches out his hand. “Need a refill?”

“Yes, please.” My hand shakes as I hand him my glass, and his fingers skate over mine before he takes it from me. Though it’s brief, probably unintentional, his touch reassures me, bolsters me.

When he returns, his glass is also topped off and he’s added fresh cubes. “Okay to go on?”

I finally meet his gaze. “You sure you want to hear this?”

“Yeah, I do. But only if you’re up to it.” He says it so gently tears prick my eyes.