As If You Never Left Me (Crimson Romance) (17 page)

The afternoon flew by, as Joely found herself thinking far too much about what awaited her this evening. What kind of room would he pick for them? She knew Virginia’s lodge had a variety of eccentrically decorated rooms, but she’d never actually seen any of them other than the one where Rey had stayed his first night here. What else did he have planned?

Holding down the fort while Perry took a break, Joely leaned on the counter and settled her chin onto one hand. She pictured herself reclining on a pink-quilted bed in a sumptuously decorated room, pink roses spilling from vases on the chest of drawers, while Rey poured champagne into a glass and lifted it in a toast.

To us,
he would say, and then she would tell him what she’d decided.
I don’t need a month,
she would tell him.
I’m ready to take you back now, for better or for worse, forever.

And she would kiss him then, and, champagne forgotten, they would roll back into the pretty pink bed —

“I can’t believe this. Who do these people think they’re fooling?”

The mocking, female voice cut through Joely’s dreamy thoughts, and she lifted her head. A pair of women stood next to one of her displays of clay pottery. It was an older set, one she’d designed about eight months ago. Only a few of the pieces were left. The taller of the two women held a candy dish upside down, looking at the marks on the bottom.

“Just as I thought,” the woman went on. “Taking complete credit.” She set the dish back down with a clunk that made Joely wince. “All these others are just knockoffs, as well.”

Joely straightened, resisting the urge to demand what the woman was blathering about. Those pieces most certainly were not knockoffs — she’d designed them herself and created them with her own sweat and tears.

The other woman posed the question, though more tactfully than Joely would have. “What makes you so sure they’re knockoffs? They look like nice pieces.”

The first woman snorted. “I saw these exact pieces at a boutique in Soho before we left for Vail. These podunk designers think they can get away with stealing designs from more established artists because out here in the middle of nowhere, who’s going to know?” She waved dismissively at Joely’s heartfelt work. “I wouldn’t waste a penny on these.”

A boutique in Soho. Joely swallowed, a horrible thought rising in the back of her mind. She didn’t have time to work out all the implications, but she knew they were bad. Very bad.

“Excuse me, ma’am,” she said.

The more abrasive of the two women jumped, as if only then becoming aware of Joely’s presence.

“I’m sorry?” she said.

“You said you saw these pieces in New York. Could you tell me who the manufacturer was?”

The woman looked affronted. “I was having a private conversation with my friend.”

If you wanted to have a private conversation, maybe you shouldn’t have been shouting, you annoying woman.
Out loud, Joely just said, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to eavesdrop. But you can understand that I’d want to know if one of my artisans was stealing ideas. I could get into some legal trouble, and I certainly don’t want that.” Her voice, to her surprise, sounded not only level, but civil and accommodating.

The woman seemed placated. “They were at a boutique in Soho. But I’m certain you heard that part.” She sniffed and paused. Joely got the feeling she was waiting for another apology. She wasn’t going to get one. “I believe,” the woman finally went on, “the manufacturer was Cherokee Ceramics.”

Joely’s stomach went cold. This was worse than she’d thought. “I used to work for Cherokee Ceramics.”

The woman raked her with a glare. “Then I would suggest you have a talk with whatever artisan is now blatantly stealing from your former employer.”

“I made those pots,” Joely said, her voice cold. “And I most certainly did not steal the designs from those misogynistic, arrogant bastards at Cherokee.”

The woman’s eyes widened. Her companion grasped her by the elbow. “I think we should go.”

“I don’t think so. I want an apology.”

But Joely had been pushed past her limit. “If anyone in this store is going to apologize, it’s going to be you, to me. Otherwise, I suggest you leave. Now.”

Haughtily, the woman gathered herself and stalked out of the store. Her companion followed, mouthing, “Sorry,” over her shoulder.

Joely barely registered that they’d left. She stood stiff, shaking, her fists clenched against the counter. How was this possible? She’d parted company with Cherokee long before she’d designed that set of pots. How could they have possibly seen them?

The door to the office opened and closed behind her. Perry breezed back into the front room, then stopped.

“Joely. What’s up?”

She turned toward Perry. Her face was cold, her emotions swinging wildly from anger to despair to rage. “I’m not sure yet. Something bad.”

“Tell me.”

Joely nodded. She told Perry about the woman’s accusations, but in the middle of the story, she suddenly stopped.

Because suddenly she knew the question. The question that had nagged at her ever since Rey had arrived, but which she’d somehow been unable to put words to.

“What?” said Perry.

“Rey,” Joely whispered, barely able to vocalize the thought. “This is too much of a coincidence.”

“I don’t get it.”

Joely’s fist clenched on the counter. “It’s been bugging me this whole time. Why did he come? What brought him out here in the first place? Did he really ditch his whole life just to come here and declare his love?”

“Joely, no — ”

“He has something to do with this. I’m sure. And I’m going to find out what.”

She spun, heading toward the door. Perry caught her by the arm. “Joely, wait a minute.”

Reflexively, Joely jerked her arm free from Perry’s grasp. “What? Wait for what?”

“Whatever this is, and whatever it might have to do with Rey, you might not want to know.”

Joely shook her head. “No. This is too important. If he’s holding something back from me, I need to find out what it is.”

She grabbed her coat and half ran out of the shop.

She should have known it was all too good to be true.

• • •

Her first instinct was to confront Rey directly, but she stopped abruptly on the steps leading to the front door of the lodge. If she found another way to find out what was going on, she could avoid a direct confrontation if Rey turned out not to be hiding anything. For a moment she stood there, one foot on the top step, chewing her lip. Then she turned and went back to the shop.

Perry looked up hopefully as Joely stormed back in.

“Change your mind?”

“Nope,” said Joely. She stalked into the office and slammed the door behind her.

Part of her wondered what the hell she was doing. Why ruin something that was going along so well? But, leafing frantically through her old address book, she knew the answer. She had to know the truth.

By the time she found the number she was looking for, she had calmed slightly, but not enough to deter her from her purpose. Closing her eyes, she took a long, slow breath. When she could no longer feel her heartbeat slamming in the back of her throat, she picked up the phone.

“Beckford and Taylor,” said the voice on the other end. “Corporate Law. This is Lisette. May I help you?”

Joely took another breath, surprise to discover she was on the verge of hyperventilating. “Is Bill Beckford in?”

“He’s not available at the moment. May I take a message?”

Joely squeezed the bridge of her nose between her thumb and first finger. “Tell him Joely Birch called. I need to ask him some questions.”

There was a pause on the other line. Joely assumed the receptionist was writing down the message, but then the woman said hesitantly. “Is this about Rey?”

Surprised, Joely lowered her hand. “I’m sorry. What did you say your name was again?”

“Lisette. Look, Ms. Birch, I don’t know what made you decide to call, but please don’t jump to conclusions.”

“Don’t jump to conclusions. Maybe you can answer my question, then. Did he or did he not come out to Colorado on a case?”

The pause alone was incriminating. “He did, but — ”

“Something to do with Cherokee Ceramics?”

“Yes, but — ”

“Then that’s all I really need to know.” She hung up the phone.

She turned and looked out the window, at the wide valley sweeping away in front of her. She felt as if she’d just flung herself out that window and was freefalling toward the ground, uncontrolled, with no hope of rescue or aid. Part of her wanted to scream and weep, to wail and tear her clothes, or dump ashes on her head. The rest had contracted inside her, forming a small, cold, hard ball where her heart had been.

Now she knew the answer. She knew why Rey had come out here. It hadn’t been because he’d suddenly realized how much he loved and missed her. It had been work.

So what did she do now? She had no idea. She put her face in her hands, pressed the heels of her hands against her dry eyes, and sat very, very still.

• • •

Rey rubbed his hands together and surveyed the small room with a smile. Everything was perfect. The room he’d picked out for them at the lodge was appointed in lavender and dove gray. A delicate tracery of violets adorned the wallpaper, echoed in the pattern on the quilt. Or maybe it was a duvet. He wasn’t sure what the difference was, but this one was delicate and pretty and seemed like it should be called something more sophisticated than a quilt.

Virginia had been more than happy to help him in his quest for a romantic room. In fact, she’d bumped a honeymooning couple from this room to another one. “They’re not coming in until tomorrow. And if you’re not gone by then, well, they’re young. They’ll recover. And the other room’s nice. It’s just not Joely.”

This room, Rey had to admit, was very much Joely. Something about the color combinations had made him think of her the minute Virginia had waved him through the door. And on the chest of drawers sat two decorative vases and a bowl full of potpourri. Rey had thought the style looked familiar, and when he turned them over, he hadn’t been surprised to find Joely’s initials scratched into the bottoms.

Dinner was meticulously planned. The lodge didn’t offer room service, but he’d arranged for the diner to deliver a gourmet meal, which Virginia would have one of her staff bring up. It had cost him a bit, but it would be worth it to see Joely happy.

He stepped out onto the room’s small balcony, breathing the fresh mountain air and absorbing the scenery. Though it was still technically dusk, the sun was no longer visible, having dipped behind the mountains. The reddish light of the sunset combined with a medium cover of cloud to lend an orange tint to everything. Rey had never seen anything quite like it. It was beautiful and surreal, as if a giant, cold flame had engulfed the earth. He shivered a little, not sure why. The breeze that had touched his face wasn’t quite cold, and the shiver had gone deeper than his skin.

Behind him, he heard the door to the room open. He didn’t have to look to know it was Joely. Turning around, he met her with his brightest, most content smile.

She didn’t smile back. Her face was drawn and pale. The last time she’d looked like this was the day she’d walked out on him.

His smile faded. “Joely, what’s wrong?”

She pointed at a chair. “Sit, Rey. You need to answer some questions.”

Rey opened his mouth to protest, but nothing came out. So he did as she’d said and sat in the chair. She loomed in front of him, arms crossed over her chest, blue eyes smoldering.

“Why are you here, Rey?” Her voice shook. He stared at her, not sure he’d heard her correctly.

“I’m sorry, Joely, I don’t understand.”

Her hand jerked, as if it intended to grab him by his collar, but it clenched into a fist before it reached him and lowered again. “Why did you come to Colorado? Don’t lie to me. I know it wasn’t just to see me.”

He swallowed. How the hell had she found out? There’d been no reason for her to suspect anything.

Apparently, his silence had gone on too long, because she broke it. “I had some customers today who told me Cherokee Ceramics is selling pieces that look exactly like mine. Pieces I made after I left the company. What’s the deal, Rey?”

He’d learned a long time ago to shut off his emotions in court. This wasn’t court, but it was an interrogation, and the switch flicked without any conscious effort on his part. He stood, taking on a calm, professional demeanor. “Cherokee’s in a great deal of trouble. There are several complaints against them right now — fourteen, I believe, at last count. I’ve been gathering evidence from several different artisans.” He paused, took a long breath, and sealed his own fate. “Yes, I came out here to get evidence from you.”

“Then why the hell didn’t you just tell me that?”

He shook his head. “It didn’t seem like the best way to tell you I still loved you.”

Tears had gathered at the corners of her eyes. “You are an idiot, Rey.”

“Yes, I am. I thought I’d gotten over that, but apparently not.”

He’d hoped she might laugh, if only a little. But the corners of her mouth tightened, curling down against a sob. “I thought we had a chance.”

“We do, Joely — ”

“Don’t, Rey. Just don’t.” She squeezed her eyes shut and a tear slid down her face while she shuddered, fighting the rest of them.

“Joely — ” he ventured.

“No.” Her emotions reined in again, her eyes opened and flashed fire into his face. “No. Don’t you understand? You told me you changed, but you haven’t changed. You left me because of your job, and now you’re coming back because of your job.”

“You left me, Joely — ”

“You know what I mean. Your heart and your mind and everything that counted were gone from that house a long time before I walked out.”

He took a step forward; she stepped back, her body so shaky, so unsteady, she could barely balance on her tiny, half-inch heels.

“No,” she said again. “Rey, if it hadn’t been for this case, would you be here right now? If I hadn’t been shoved right in your face along with Cherokee Ceramics, would you have even bothered to come to Colorado?”