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Well, maybe it was nothing. Or maybe she’d finally gotten a chance to see what a complete disappointment her fantasy turned out to be in real life. He raked his hair back, ready to pull it out, he was so frustrated by the idea of being held up to such an unrealistic fantasy—and even more irritated by the fact he was feeling sorry for her. But, no matter what kind of crush she’d had, it didn’t give her the right to play with guys’ hearts the way she did. Didn’t give her the excuse to cheat and trick another person into being a part of the betrayal. Anger was better than the alternative, so he took the coward’s way and went with it.
“Yeah, Danny, that’s a sad story, and it certainly gives me some insight. But here’s the thing—it doesn’t excuse her for lying. You can never trust a person like her.”
“What are you talking about?” Danny sounded irritated. Apparently her promiscuity and lack of commitment weren’t a problem, but he took offense at someone suggesting she wasn’t hone
st. “Amber doesn’t lie.”
“An omission that important is basically a lie. It’s deceit. Plain and simple.”
Neil polished off his beer and set it on the table with a solid thud. Waving his hand apologetically, he cleared his throat. “Didn’t get to those details, Danny. She was cheatin’.”
Danny let out a short laugh, looking amused. “Okay, let me rephrase. Amber doesn’t lie and she doesn’t cheat. Never has. We’ve been friends for a long time, she and I, and those are two things that don’t happen with her. Trust me when I say that I spent a long time paying more attention to the details of her existence than I should have, and she’s not that kind of girl.”
A tightness built in the pit of Brian’s stomach. “What about Eric?”
Danny looked back at him, confused. “What do you mean, ‘What about Eric’? He’s a manipulative little punk sleaze. A prime example of the sub-par dates Amber sometimes puts up with. How do you even know Eric? The guy moved to New York—like four months ago didn’t he? Easiest way to unload that kind of prick—just move him out.”
The tightness was now as solid and uncomfortable as a cannonball and Brian could feel the color draining from his face, his pride plummeting out of him, and his precious sense of righteous indignation being rapidly replaced with overwhelming shame.
“He was back,” Brian said in a low, controlled voice. He wanted to slam his fist on the table and scream it, but he kept control. He needed to understand. “When I met him, he introduced himself as her boyfriend.”
“Typical. Some nerve from that guy. I guess he’s smart enough. I mean Amber had to find something interesting about him, to date him for whatever it was, a month or two. But it was over when he left, the guy didn’t even call. He wishes they were still together. I’m pretty sure he still lives out East, though. Might be back for business, but I don’t think he’s living here. They work at the same company.”
Brian felt like he might be sick. Every word he’d said to her, every insult and offense, popped into his head. Everything had been wrong and uncalled for. Hell, he knew, even if he’d been right about her situation, his behavior was inexcusable. But he wasn’t right. She hadn’t been cheating. She’d been with him and everything that happened had been because things were right between them. And then he’d basically called her a whore and left her with some schmuck she’d thought herself rid of—oh yeah, after he’d fucked her in a crowded club. About the only decent thing he’d done with her was use a condom every time he came. He was the dream come true.
“Look, guys, thanks for the drink. I’ve got to go. I’m sorry. I was off-base about Amber. Thanks for clearing it up for me.” Rising from his chair, Brian could hear the guys saying goodbye and yammering on about whatever, but he was pushing his way out the door before they’d finished. He couldn’t listen anymore. He didn’t know what to do. There was too much to process and the idea of setting all the things right he needed to was making him sick. He would go home and get his head straight and then he’d talk to Amber. He owed her an apology and it was long overdue.
Chapter Eight
Black and white snapshots of his past flickered by like stock footage from a disjointed movie reel. Brian flipped to the index of the senior yearbook and ran a thick finger down the page searching for Amber Grayson. He began flipping back and forth from the index to the pages where she appeared, learning more about her in that thirty minutes than he had in four years of high school. She looked sweet in every shot. Hugging friends, taking notes in class, doing the splits midair in her cheerleading uniform, God help him. Why didn’t baseball get cheerleaders? The last photo showed her in a group shot with the squad, all the girls smiling at the camera. All except Amber, who was looking off into the distance, a shy smile playing on her lips. He could tell from the background, she was facing the baseball diamond. And in a flash of memory he recalled a distant spring day, walking off the field and seeing all of the cheerleaders striking a pose—and Amber, offering him one of her beautiful shy smiles. Could that be this picture? Somehow, the familiarity of it left him feeling off-balance. What was he doing with this girl? How could he treat her the way he had? Talk to her the way he had? His damn ego was no excuse. He was a jackass.
He’d called her twice, but there’d been no answer. Standing up, he grabbed his keys and headed for the door. He needed to talk to her.
The elevator shut behind him with a hushed rush of air, leaving Brian in front of Clybourn Elliot’s double glass doors. He was starting to sweat, realizing what a stupid idea it was to come to Amber’s work. But he’d been so desperate to talk to her, and when she hadn’t been home he’d come here, the only other place he knew to look. Being Saturday afternoon, the reception lights were off, but the office area was lit by banks of florescent lights. A fiftyish woman dressed in jeans and a tee-shirt was walking toward the doors. Pushing them open, she shouted over her shoulder. “Have a good weekend, Amber, don’t stay here all night.”
“Was that Amber Grayson you were calling to?”
The woman looked Brian over appraisingly with a half smile. “Sure was, go ahead on back, honey.”
Brian nodded, returning the smile, but once inside he felt like a criminal gaining entry under false pretense. He was here now, so he forced his legs to move and began walking through the complex maze of partitions in search of her desk. She’d be busy, so all he would do is ask if he could see her later, take her to dinner. Talk to her.
Arrogant ass that he was, he hadn’t bothered making plans with Amber since that first night, but today he couldn’t risk missing her. He had to explain, to apologize, to beg for another chance.
Muffled voices filtered in and out from somewhere toward the back of the office. He was getting closer.
“…We’re alone now…missed you… so sorry…”
Brian froze, he could barely make out the words, but instantly knew who was speaking them. Eric. Amber’s sub-par boyfriend. Ex-boyfriend.
Amber’s voice sounded in a low groan. “Eric…” Were they making up, making love?
Brian hung his head and, feeling sick to his stomach, turned to leave. What right did he have to interfere? Two steps later he stopped, took a deep breath and clenched his jaw. No way. He couldn’t leave without telling her how he felt. That he was sorry. He didn’t deserve a chance, but he was going to ask her for one anyway. In front of Eric, in front of anyone, it didn’t matter how fast she shut him down. He’d never be able to live with himself if he didn’t try.
“…I want you…”
“…Eric, I said no…”
Brian’s brow furrowed, his chest tightened and blood began to pump through him at an increasing rate. Faster he moved though the maze, looking into each passing partition.
