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She should feel relieved by his acceptance, but it didn’t help the twisting in her gut. “I hate you for convincing me to wear this. I won’t have time to change.”
“Like I said…” He kissed her again, and when she didn’t smile, he deepened the kiss until she did. “We’ve got this, babe. I hate that you’re leaving, but I love that you’re driven. Besides, I have stuff to handle here.”
“I hate that I’m leaving, and I love that you are crazy enough to love me back despite my job.” Her phone vibrated again. “I should go.”
“Go.” He reached into his pocket and handed her his wallet. “There’s cash for a cab and credit cards. Use whatever you need.”
She’d forgotten that she didn’t have her purse. She took a long look at the man who had changed her life, watched out for her, and loved her despite times like these, and her heart swelled and hurt at once. “Thank you. I’m so sorry, Dylan.”
“Go get ’em, Summers. You’ve got this.”
As she hurried out the door, she silently sent a thank-you up to the gods of boyfriends and climbed into one of the waiting cabs. “Javits Center, please.”
As they pulled away from the curb, she took out her phone and called Miranda.
“Did Rocco reach you?” Miranda sounded panicked. “I’ve been texting you.”
“Yes. I’m on my way.”
“Thank God, because every agent on this side of the world is here, and I think they all know, because everyone’s scrambling.”
As the lights of the city blurred outside the cab window, Tiffany’s heart pounded a mile a minute. Usually, this was where she shined. No matter what the scenario, she stepped up to the plate and hit a home run. This was her moment of impact, making the sale, regardless of what clothes she had on or what was happening in her life. She knew her priorities and she was determined to succeed. But as she listened to Miranda tell her which of her competition was there, it all felt wrong. Her mind wasn’t on the contract. It wasn’t racing through a pitch to seal the deal. It was wrapped around the amazing man she’d left behind, wondering who would recognize that when his lips curved up a certain way it was a forced smile that really meant he was having trouble with a memory of his sister? Who would be there with pride in their eyes meant just for him, showing him that he’d done the right thing, as he always did?
She had her priorities straight. The problem was, they’d changed.
“Miranda,” she interrupted. “I need a favor.”
“DYLAN, THERE YOU are.” Tiffany’s father joined him by the bar. “I haven’t seen my kiddo around. Where’s she hiding?”
“She got a call from Rocco. Apparently Ramsey Sharpe fired his agent, and it was now or never.” Disappointment swept through him, and he felt guilty as hell for being a pussy. This was her career, and he was proud of her tenacity. But that didn’t mean he didn’t wish she could be there to enjoy the event with him, to stand beside him as he talked to people about his sister. To enjoy the end results of all their hard work.
“Ramsey finally came to his senses,” Gunner said gruffly. “It’s about damn time. He won’t get a better agent than Tiffany. She cares.”
“That she does,” Dylan agreed, and as a bevy of emotions passed through him, the disappointment washed away. She’d done the right thing by leaving. She was therightagent for Ramsey, and Ramsey would be lucky to have her. Amanda and Ally must have asked him twenty times if he was okay after Tiffany left. Amanda made sure he knew just how hard that decision was for Tiffany, but she needn’t have. He knew his girlfriend well. She didn’t just have a loving heart. She had a generous soul and thought of everyone else before herself. And he knew he was at the top of that list.
“You raised a remarkable woman,” he said to Gunner.
Gunner sighed. “I think she practically raised herself. I was so busy trying to hold the family together, working long hours…To be honest, I had no idea what I was doing, raising a little girl. The day I told her that her mother left, she looked at me with those sad green eyes, lifted that dimpled chin of hers like she had the strength of ten men inside her tiny body, and said, ‘Okay, Daddy. I’ll get my own bath ready.’”
Dylan’s heart broke at the thought of Tiffany dealing with something so heavy at a time when her biggest concern should have been what game she was going to play or what color ribbon she’d wear in her hair. He gazed out at the crowd. More than two hundred people had shown up for the event. Some of them had been touched by heartache and some simply wanted to help others. The faces of children who had endured too much pain—some who had lost their battle, like Lorelei—surrounded them. In comparison, being abandoned by a parent seemed like small potatoes. But children didn’t compare their lives to anyone else’s. Tiffany’s world had turned upside down in one afternoon, just like his life had when they’d lost Lorelei.
Gunner cleared his throat, bringing Dylan’s mind back to the moment. “She’s strong, but don’t let her fool you, Dylan. She’s got a soft heart. She just keeps it buried beneath thick skin.”
“She’s never fooled me. Not for one minute.” He looked across the room at the tall, dark figure of a man gazing up at the picture of Lorelei, recognizing his father’s broad back and commanding stance. A chill moved through him.
“Excuse me for a moment.” As Dylan crossed the floor, he caught sight of Carson talking with Heath and Logan Wild. He was glad Carson hadn’t noticed their father. They didn’t need an uncomfortable family moment tonight. His mother sat at a table with Mick and Amanda.
Mick glanced at him, nodding once. A silentI’ve got Mompassing between them.
“You heading for Dad?” Brett asked gruffly as he came to his side.
Dylan nodded, thinking about their mother and what she’d said about their father and Brett needing to blame someone for Lorelei’s death. They’d had enough arguments with their father over the years. They didn’t need to bring anger into this event. He grabbed Brett’s arm and stopped walking.
“You know what? I’m not doing this. He won’t have anything good to say.” He looked around the room at all the support that had come together, and the last thing he wanted was to demean any of it.
“You sure?” Brett asked.
“Yeah. Go. He’s not worth it.” He watched his brother walk away, and when he looked back toward his father, he was heading directly for him.
