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I smile and type: Then come back.
As soon as I can, I promise, he replies. Headed to a meeting. It will be late when I call.
I sigh and set my phone down on my desk, the call with Marshall bothering me. Everything about Allison bothers me. My mind goes to my talk with Tyler. There’s more to Dash Black than meets the eye. There’s more to Allison leaving than meets the eye, too, and I’m not sure what to do about it. I don’t even know what I think is wrong. Just—something. Something is wrong.
CHAPTER FIFTY-SEVEN
With Dash gone, I’m in no rush to go home to an empty house, that was her house. Hours after I talk Katie into going home, I order takeout and eat a salad at my desk. I spend a lot of time I should be working thinking about my life. I decide that feeling wildly confused about my life has become my new reality. I admit that fact. Perhaps that’s why I start digging through files, looking for answers to the other Allison’s life. I’m on empty, coming up dry, but right as I’m about to give up, a small piece of paper flutters to the ground. I grab it and find a handwritten phone number in a man’s script.
I quickly key it into my search bar only to have it come up as an unlisted personal number. My fingers thrum on the desk. It’s probably a work thing which means I could call it and find out. But what if it’s not. My heart is racing with what I’m about to do for reasons I can’t explain. I’ve called hundreds of Allison’s contacts. This is no different, I tell myself. Only it is because I grab my cellphone to ensure the office number doesn’t show up, and dial it anyway. A man answers. “Allison?”
His voice is familiar and yet not, which has me believing it’s someone famous I just can’t place. “Yes, but not the Allison you think. I’m filling in for her at Hawk Legal and—”
“Why are you calling me? Is there something wrong with Allison?”
“I don’t know what’s going on with her at all. Do you? I’ve been trying to reach her—”
“Don’t call this number. Ever.” He disconnects.
I blink in confusion. What just happened?
Nothing good, I think, but I still have nothing to go on but a gut feeling that something is wrong with the other Allison. My cellphone rings with an unknown number and I answer. “Allison Wright.”
Turns out it’s a client of Bella’s. I talk to them for a good half hour, log a donation, and finally disconnect. My cellphone rings again and I quickly glance at the caller ID, expecting Dash, only to find another unknown caller. I answer the line. “Allison Wright.”
There are a few beats of silence and the line goes dead. I’m officially creeped out. I toss my takeout bowl in the trash and start gathering my things. A few minutes later, I walk through the ghost town of an office, with a creepy sensation floating down my neck. I step into the elevator and it’s about to close when someone catches the door. I hold my breath, not sure who I expect.
Tyler steps into the car and I blow out a relieved breath. “If you’re trying to get free rent, Ms. Wright, it’s already yours.” He punches the garage button I’ve forgotten to punch.
“It’s kind of weird that you give me free rent. Why?”
“You know why.”
“How long was Allison in the house?”
“A year.”
“And before her?”
“My grandmother,” he surprises me by saying. “I inherited the house and her wine collection.”
Guilt stabs at me. “I’m sorry,” I say quickly. “I shouldn’t have been nosey.”
“I know you can’t help yourself.”
The elevator lands on the garage floor and the doors open. Tyler proves himself a gentleman and holds the door for me. I step outside and turn to him. The minute he joins me I say, “I’m worried about her Tyler. Really worried. Beyond reason. Please tell me you tried to call her.”
“I did,” he says. “She’ll call me back.”
“And if she doesn’t?”
“Then we’ll talk. I know why she left. I know why she’ll come back. You need to chill the fuck out.”
I blink at the informal, human-like response. “Right. You’re right. I think I’m in worry mode because of my mom.”
“I thought your mom was doing well?”
“She is, but I can’t seem to realize that.”
“Of course you can’t. She’s your mother. Contrary to what you might think of me, I love my mother as well. I’d be the same way. Speaking of a parent. My father has been in Europe dealing with our international clients. He’s returning tomorrow. Expect him to want to meet you at some point. This is still his rodeo. I’m just one of the horses.”
