About That Night (33 page)

“Yep. The reporter I’ve been talking to just called to say his editor signed off on it. They plan to run my picture with the caption ‘The New Face of Network Security.’ Let’s just hope they don’t use my mug shot,” he joked.

“The cover of
Time
,” Rylann repeated. Then she turned around and planted one right on his mouth. “That is
awesome
.”

“Perfect timing, too, with the launch of my company.” He shrugged. “I had to agree to talk about the Twitter
thing—Tijuana, my conviction, prison life, the whole nine yards—but I figure it’s worth it.”

Instantly, Rylann got a sinking feeling in her stomach. She was beyond thrilled for Kyle and knew what a great opportunity this was for him. But the interview would thrust the details of his arrest and conviction once again into the spotlight, and she’d been hoping, perhaps naively, that everyone could just…move on from that.

Kyle had been very blunt about his feelings over the way his case had been handled by her office, including the fact that they’d called him a “terrorist” and sought the maximum prison sentence. It was inevitable that the reporter would inquire about those subjects. And if Kyle answered the questions candidly, she feared the U.S. Attorney’s Office would not be cast in the most positive light.

She could already picture the scene a week from now. Her, walking into work the morning the
Time
story hit the newsstands, the other AUSAs gossiping about it in the hallways. Cade dropping by to talk, annoyed about being cast as the villain, and Cameron very possibly frustrated that the integrity of the office she’d been working hard to rebuild since her predecessor’s departure was once again called into question.

And behind the scenes, Rylann would be in the middle of it all.

Yes, she could always ask Kyle to not cast any aspersions on her office during the interview. But doing that felt wrong. Whether she agreed with him or not, he should have the right to express his opinions on the subject—especially since she knew that Cade had, in fact, been told to go after him particularly hard because of his last name and financial status.

And so the situation between her and Kyle grew that much more complicated.

“Are you okay?” Kyle touched her chin. “You’re making the serious face again.”

Rylann forced herself to plaster on what she hoped looked like a genuine smile and went for a joke. This was Kyle’s moment, and she wouldn’t ruin it for him. “Sorry. I just got
a little starstruck there. It’s not every day I get to rub elbows with someone whose face is on the cover of a magazine.”

He held her gaze. “It could be an everyday thing, you know.”

Rylann’s heart began to race. Suddenly, it seemed they were about to have The Talk after all. And judging from her body’s reaction, she was either excited to take their relationship to the next level…or about to have a panic attack.

Then Kyle’s cell phone rang again, interrupting the moment.

He swore under his breath. “I should take that. Sorry things are so crazy right now.”

“It’s okay. You do your work thing.” She exhaled unsteadily when he left.

She finished getting ready for work and was in her kitchen, pouring cereal into a bowl, when Kyle hung up the phone and walked over from the living room.

“I should get going,” he said. “I need to run home, take a quick shower, and head into the office. According to Sean, we’ve already received thirty calls on the business line this morning.” He pulled her closer. “I’m going to dinner tonight with my family. It’s a tradition Jordan and I started eight years ago, as a way of making sure my dad wasn’t alone on the anniversary of my mother’s car accident. Can I call you afterward?”

Rylann nodded, thinking that it probably wasn’t such a bad idea for them to spend the evening apart. Clearly, she had a lot of thinking to do. “Sure.” She touched his face. “Is it hard, today being the nine-year anniversary of the accident?”

“It’s gotten easier over the years.” He kissed her good-bye, long and deep, then groaned and pulled back. “I’ll never get out of here if I keep that up.”

“I was just about to kick you out, anyway. I’m in front of the
grand jury later this morning.”

“Ooh, sexy. Now I get to picture you doing your lawyer thing all afternoon. What kind of case?”

“A secret one.”

“Right. What happens in the grand jury room stays in the grand jury room. I remember the speech well.” With a wink, he turned and left her apartment.

Rylann stood there for a moment after he left, her smile slowly fading as the weight of her dilemma sank in. Forcing herself to push the issue temporarily aside, she grabbed her spoon and cereal bowl. She took a seat at the counter and had just fired up her iPad to catch up on the morning’s headlines when there was a knock at her door.

Perhaps Kyle had forgotten something, she mused. With that in mind, she slid off the bar stool and left the kitchen. She cut through her living room and opened the door, expecting to see a pair of piercing blue eyes and dimples.

Instead, she froze.

Standing there on her doorstep, inexplicably, was
Jon
.

He held out his arms. “Surprise.”

RYLANN BLINKED IN shock. “Jon. What are you doing here?” She ignored the outstretched arms, not exactly in a place to hug it out right then.

After a moment, he dropped his hands back to his sides. “Okay, so much for hoping for a warm reception. I’m here because I’d like to talk.”

“Do they…not have telephones anymore in Italy?”

He pointed, grinning. “Ah, there’s that sarcasm I missed. I tried the telephone, remember? You hung up on me.”

Technically, she’d said good-bye first, but this was hardly the time to get caught up in semantics. “Because I didn’t think there was anything else we needed to say.” But now, judging from the fact that he was suddenly
there
, on her doorstep, she’d been quite wrong in assuming that.

He shifted awkwardly. “Look, I just spent ten hours on a flight from Rome. After everything we’ve been through, are you really going to leave me standing out here in the hallway like some stranger?”

Rylann actually considered that for a moment. Then she stepped back from the doorway and let him in.

Jon smiled. “Thanks.”

She watched as he entered her living room and checked out the apartment. He looked mostly the same as he had the last time she’d seen him, although he’d cut his hair a little shorter and had a healthy tan. The Italian lifestyle seemed to suit him well.

“Cute place,” he said. He looked over at the counter, his eyes holding on the lone cereal bowl and iPad. Breakfast for one.

Before she got rolling on her cross-examination, there was one preliminary matter Rylann needed to get to the bottom of. “How did you find me?”

“Kellie and Keith. You gave them your forwarding address when you moved out here.”

When he turned around and faced her, seemingly finished with his assessment of the apartment, she decided to cut to the chase. “Do you want to tell me why you’re here?”

He looked her in the eyes. “I think I made a mistake. About us. Italy has not turned out to be what I thought it would.” He stepped forward, his voice turning softer. “I really miss you, Ry.”

Hearing the words, Rylann felt a mixture of emotions right then—regret, sympathy, and even some sadness.

But not love.

“We can’t do this, Jon. It’s over. We agreed on that when you left to get on the plane to Rome. I’ve moved on now.”

His hazel eyes flickered with emotion. “Are you seeing someone?”

She paused, then nodded. “Yes.”

“Is it serious?”

Such a complicated question. “It could be.”

Jon flinched, then looked at the ceiling. “Wow. I hadn’t been expecting that.” He took a minute, and when he returned his gaze to her, his eyes were misty.

Seeing that, Rylann wasn’t sure what to say. Whatever was going on with her ex right now, he was obviously confused and not in a good place. “Jon, I’m sorry.”

He ran his hand through his hair. “I’m just tired. Long flight. Maybe I could get a glass of water?”

“Of course.” She went into the kitchen and grabbed a bottled water out of the refrigerator. When she shut the door, she saw that Jon had followed her and was standing by the counter. “Oh. Here you go.” She handed him the water.

“Thank you.” He cracked it open and took a sip, then set
the bottle on the counter. “Just tell me one thing. When we were together, were you happy?”

Yes, she was. They’d obviously had their issues, like every couple, but they’d dated for three years, they’d lived together, and she’d even wanted to marry him. But then she’d gotten over him with the six-month plan—something that had probably been easier to do than it should’ve been.

And that said a lot.

“Yes, I was happy, but—”

He put his finger over her lips, cutting her off before she could finish. “Then it doesn’t have to be over. I know I hurt you that night at Jardiniere. There you were, thinking I was going to propose, and instead I blindsided you with my grand plan to move to Rome. I was an idiot, Ry, and I am so, so sorry. But we can start fresh. I want a second chance.”

Rylann reached up, took his hand, and moved it away from her mouth. Whether he wanted to hear it or not, there was something she needed to say. “There isn’t going to be a second chance, Jon,” she said quietly but firmly. “I’m not in love with you anymore.”

He grabbed her wrist when she tried to let go of his hand. “Wait, if you’d just let me—”

“You touch her again and you’re gonna be sorry about a lot more than that night at Jardiniere.”

Rylann looked over and saw Kyle standing in the kitchen doorway, his blue eyes flashing angrily. He looked angry and tense and ready to rumble.

“Kyle,” she said in surprise as Jon instantly dropped her wrist.

His gaze turned to her, and for a moment he looked so unlike the devil-may-care charmer she knew that she wondered, with a sinking feeling, if he was mad at
her
. She had no clue how much he’d heard, and from his perspective, the scene he’d just walked in on could’ve looked bad—particularly to a guy who’d been cheated on by his last girlfriend.

But then he moved into the room and stood close to her side. “I think Rylann has made her feelings perfectly clear,” he said to Jon.

Jon blinked, recognition lighting in his eyes. “Holy shit, I know you. You’ve been in the news all week.” He shot Rylann a look of utter disbelief. “You’re fucking the
Twitter Terrorist
?” He laughed humorlessly. “You, the star assistant U.S. attorney, and an ex-con. You want to tell me how that’s ever going to work?”

“If I remember correctly, that’s none of your goddamn business anymore,” Kyle growled.

“Uh-oh, looks like I struck a nerve there,” Jon retorted.

Rylann stepped between them. “Okay, clearly we’ve got a bit too much testosterone in the room right now.” She put her hand on Kyle’s arm. “Can I talk to you out in the hall?”

He glared at Jon for a long moment—looking far more like an ex-con than a billionaire heir or computer geek—then turned back to Rylann and nodded. “All right.”

They stepped out her front door and into the small internal landing that fit barely more than her welcome mat and their two bodies. At the opposite end of the landing was a staircase leading down to the first- and second-floor apartments.

First things first. “What are you doing here?” she whispered after shutting the door behind them.

Kyle folded his arms across his chest. “Are you kidding me? I find you in the kitchen, with your ex-boyfriend declaring his undying love for you, and you ask
me
what I’m doing?”

“Well, I assumed your cross-examination was going to be quite lengthy, so I figured I’d get all my questions out of the way first.”

He pointed. “Don’t try to be cute when I’m pissed like this. And for the record, I came back because I forgot my watch on your nightstand. I heard a guy’s voice inside your apartment, and the door was unlocked, so I walked in.”

Did he now? “When you’re feeling a little less prickly, we should probably have a talk about boundaries and this whole possessive side of yours.”

“Fair enough. The next time I hear a strange man inside your apartment and find your door mysteriously unlocked, I
won’t
check to make sure you’re not being robbed or held at gunpoint by some lunatic felon that you’ve prosecuted.”

Rylann paused, thinking that over. “Perhaps this wasn’t the best time to take issue with the whole possessive thing.”

Kyle hooked a finger into the waistband of her skirt and pulled her closer. “Now it’s time for my cross-examination. First question: when’s the dickhead leaving?”

She cocked her head. “You’re not mad at me?”

“Oh, I was furious when I first walked in and saw you two standing there with his finger on your lips.” His expression relaxed a little. “But then I heard what you told him, about not being in love with him anymore.” He held her gaze. “Is it true what he said? That you wanted to marry him?”

Rylann hesitated, but she didn’t want to lie. “Back when Jon and I were together, yes, I thought we were going to get married.” When she saw Kyle clench his jaw, she continued on. “But that feels like a lifetime ago now. So much has happened since then.”

He seemed a little more appeased by that. “That brings us back to my first question: when is he leaving?”

She stepped closer, not wanting to fight about Jon. “He’ll be leaving soon. I promise. But he flew overnight on a plane from Italy to talk about this—I’m not just going to toss him out on the street.”

“Fine. I’ll do it for you.”

She reached up, sliding her hands up his chest. “Kyle, seven months ago a woman treated you like shit and acted with no regard for your feelings. I know the circumstances are different, but I’m not that callous. I can’t just slam the door in Jon’s face without giving him whatever closure he obviously needs.” She peered up at him. “Besides, you can trust me.”

He stared at her for a long moment before finally nodding. “Okay.”

Rylann exhaled in relief. Whether they were officially a couple or not, they’d just survived their first fight and had come out okay. Maybe better than okay, even.