Exposed (Tropical Nights) (16 page)

There was another long silence as Allison processed what Rachel said
. “I get it,” she said finally, and Rachel knew she really did understand. Allison was like Rachel; she worked at the magazine to pay the bills while she pursued her real passions. Like Rachel, she’d even developed a sort of guilty-pleasure type of appreciation for gossip, but they both knew it wasn’t worth compromising everything for a tabloid piece. “I take it you haven’t told Karen.”

Rachel’s breath caught. “No.”

“What do you think she’ll say?”

“
Who knows? Guessing the winning lottery numbers is easier than predicting how Karen will react to something. I will say I’m not expecting to have a job after tomorrow.”

“It might not be that bad.”

“It will probably be worse. This was supposed to be the story of the year, remember?”

“No, really. Karen’s been going on and on recently about how she needs
to get right with the universe and tend to her karma more closely or whatever. She might be more understanding than you think if you tell her your conscience won’t let you do this.”

“I hope so, but I
’m not betting on it. It doesn’t really matter anyway. I’m not writing the story and I’m prepared to face the consequences. Speaking of, I should call her now and tell her. I can’t deal with this hanging over my head anymore. I need to just get this all out in the open and deal with whatever happens.”

“Okay. Good luck. Let me know how it goes.”

“I will. Talk to you soon.” Rachel disconnected the call.

She
took a few deep breaths to calm her nerves. She was still sitting on the floor, surrounded by the spilled contents of her purse, and she resumed picking it all up while she worked out exactly what she would say to Karen. She put her purse back on the nightstand, set Leo’s phone down next to it, and then sank onto the bed.

God, this was hard.

She didn’t like falling short of expectations, absolutely hated letting people down, but she’d done all that and worse. She’d let herself down by getting in this mess, she was about to let her boss down as she tried to claw her way out of it, and she was going to let down the family that depended on her once she was unemployed and scrambling for a job again.

The absolute worst of it, the part that was ripping her guts to shreds, was that she had let things get so bad she had dragged Leo down
into the muck with her. She hadn’t meant for things to get his far, she hadn’t been the one to tell the lie and she’d had every intention of correcting it once she realized what he’d been led to believe. And she’d tried, she really did, but she could no longer fool herself into thinking she’d done everything she could. She had convinced herself it was enough to kill the story, that because she didn’t plan on ever seeing him after this weekend it didn’t matter that she hadn’t come completely clean. But after spending this time with him, after getting to know him inside and out and feeling…God, she didn’t even know what it was she felt for him, just that simply walking away was no longer an option. She was confused and anxious and heartsick trying to sort out exactly how she’d gotten into this mess and what was going to happen as a result.

The only thing she knew
was she had to call Karen and tell her that the story was dead, and when that was done she needed to tell Leo everything.

Her fingers shook as she
pulled up Karen’s cell number and hit send. It rang several times before going to voicemail, and after debating for a second whether to leave a message or just hang up, Rachel blurted everything out in a rush. She repeated what she told Allison, that she hadn’t found any gossip worth reporting on Leo, and that she wouldn’t use it even if she had. As she explained how uncomfortable she was with how the interview had been set up, Rachel struggled to walk the thin line between coming off as judgmental and accusatory to her boss while still being unequivocal in her refusal to participate in the deception. She ended by saying she would come into the office the next day, Monday, to discuss it with Karen in person, including, she presumed, the details of her termination. Then she disconnected the call, tossed her phone on the nightstand next to Leo’s, and let herself wallow in her misery for a moment.

She took a
few more deep, cleansing breaths and realized she felt slightly better after making the call. She’d taken the first step toward fixing this, and now she just needed to wait for Leo to return from his meeting so she could tell him everything. She headed to the shower, running through the conversation she would have with him, practicing what she would say that would explain it all: how it had happened, that she wasn’t going to write the story, why she had waited so long to tell him. It wasn’t going to be pleasant, but she focused on how relieved she would be when it was done.

Leo slid his key card into the door of Rachel’s suite and let himself in. He automatically looked to the bed, hoping to see R
achel still curled up in sheets, but she wasn’t in it. He heard the water running and knew she was in the shower. It was just as well; he’d only stopped by to get his phone before running to his meeting with Harry. If he’d found her still in bed, drowsy and enticing, he knew he would never find the strength to leave again.

He saw
his phone on the nightstand and he hurried over to grab it so he could get out before he gave into the temptation and joined Rachel in the shower. It was driving him crazy thinking about her in there, naked and wet and so damned delicious. He couldn’t stop thinking about the first night on the island, when he’d put her in the shower to warm her chilled body and they’d both ended up heated to the core. How he’d held her up against the slick tiled wall and kissed every part of her warm, wet skin. How she’d—

Damn, he needed to cut this train of thought off right now before
it made him decide to blow off his meeting completely. Hell, at this moment, he was ready to blow off the entire rest of his life if it meant he could stay on this island with Rachel forever.

Think about Harry
, he ordered himself. Nothing killed manly impulses faster than picturing his overly intense, red-faced, sweaty attorney waiting in a conference room surrounded by mounds of contracts and various business documents.
Just get your phone and get out
. He reached for it, but he realized there were two identical smartphones lying on the nightstand and he wasn’t sure which was his. He picked one up and opened the home screen to check. A text from someone named Karen popped up immediately and he’d absorbed the short message without even intentionally reading it:

Got message. NYE readers will be disappointed re Hanlon story. Call me. Maybe there’s a way to fix.

             
Leo’s breath caught. He heard nothing but the pounding of blood in his ears as it seemed to drain from every part of his body and pool into his gut. He couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe, and his chest constricted so tightly he was sure it would implode. His mind was reeling so hard it took him a minute to even sort out what he’d read and why it was hitting him like it did.

             
“Leo? What’s wrong?”

             
Leo slowly tore his gaze from the phone and looked up. He felt heavy, weighted down, like he was trying to move through quickly drying concrete. His brain registered that Rachel was standing in the bathroom doorway wrapped in a towel, an extremely worried expression on her face. He hadn’t noticed the water had stopped running or heard her walk in. “Why are you here?” he asked. The words sounded strange to him, like it had been someone else who’d spoken them.

             
“What do you mean? I just got done showering.”

             
“On the island. Why are you on the island?”

             
Rachel looked almost frightened, and Leo knew she was reacting to his thunderous expression, the piano-wire tenseness of his body, how his one hand was fisted at his side and the other was squeezing her phone so tightly his fingers had gone from purple to white. He consciously relaxed his hands and attempted to modulate his expression.

             
“You asked me to come.” She sounded confused. “Leo, what’s going on?”

             
“Whom do you work for?” He’d tried to keep his voice steady but failed, and every bit of his anger had come through when he spoke. “What magazine is this story for?”

             
The color drained from Rachel’s face and she looked stricken, like his words had been an actual, physical slap and not just a barked question. “What…how did you…” She trailed off and stared at him, and Leo could practically see her mind spinning.

             
“You have a text from Karen. The same Karen, I’m assuming, who called me to set up this interview. The Karen who told me you worked for
Economy Today
, but who is now texting about ‘NYE,’ which must be
New York Exposed
.” He saw from the way she winced at his words that he was right about all of it. “Apparently she isn’t happy with the way your
gossip
story on me is going.”

             
“Leo, I can explain—”

             
“You lied to me.” Saying the words out loud made the reality of it all come crashing into him like a fifty-foot swell of stormy sea. Rachel had betrayed him. She’d lied about where she worked and what this story was about and God-knows-what else so she could get close to him, so she could gain his trust and then use it to turn him into tabloid fodder.

             
And he
had
trusted her. He’d told her things he never let anyone hear, showed her pieces of him he never let anyone see, let himself feel things for her that terrified him because she’d made him feel brave enough to take the chance. But the whole time, she’d been playing him for the fool.

God, had
any
of it been real? The things she’d said to him, the vulnerabilities she’d shown—had any of it been anything more than a calculated game to get her what she wanted?

             
“Please, Leo, let me explain. I—”

             
“Just stop.” His voice was low, almost quiet, but there was deadly conviction to his words that made Rachel’s face crumple. Even through his righteous rage, the look on her face made him feel a stab of concern for her, an impulse to take her in his arms and kiss away her worry.

He fought it.

He choked whatever feelings he had for her, strangled them until they were limp and dying and buried deep inside him where they could never be revived.

             
Leo had spent his life trying to protect himself from everything he was experiencing right now—the pain and rage and fear that came from letting down your guard and allowing yourself to care about someone only to have them ripped away from you. Rachel had gotten to him, she’d made him starry-eyed and stupid enough that he’d forgotten to keep her at a distance.

No more.

He threw up every wall he’d ever built inside himself, shored up every last defense he’d created through the years to protect him from vulnerability. “Get your things ready,” he told her in a flat, utterly emotionless voice. “We’ll be on the plane within the hour.”

He tossed her phone on the bed, picked his up from the nightstand, and walked calmly out of her suite. He didn’t let himself see the pain that shot through her face and wracked her body. He closed his heart to any stab of concern or regret. He didn’t
hesitate. He simply walked out of the room and let the door shut on Rachel and everything he had ever felt for her.

Chapter Nine

              The five hours it took to fly from Isla Acarigua back to New York felt like the longest of Rachel’s life. Her heart was breaking and she was filled with a sorrow she hadn’t known since her mother died. She was one giant exposed nerve so flooded with regret and confusion and pain she couldn’t fully sort through it all. When she had flown down to the island a few days ago, she never guessed things would go so horribly, completely wrong that she would be spending the flight back using every ounce of her strength to not break down in hysterical, never-ending sobs.

             
Leo hadn’t spoken to her since he’d walked out of her room that morning. He hadn’t even looked at her. He’d sent a resort employee to collect her bags and drive her to the private airport. Leo had already been on the jet when she’d boarded it, sitting in one of the plush leather chairs, computers and documents spread out over the workstation table. He hadn’t glanced her way as she’d taken her seat, hadn’t even paused in his typing, and he hadn’t done a single thing to acknowledge her presence in the several hours since takeoff.

             
Rachel tried to distract herself by reading or working or even staring out the window, but nothing worked. All she could think about was Leo and the look on his face when he’d realized she lied to him. She’d watched the confusion and hurt and betrayal wash over him, and it had been like a stab to her gut. All of his physical reactions to the turmoil she’d caused—the flashes of pain in his eyes, how he continually tensed his body or clenched his fist or drew a shaky breath—further twisted the blade of guilt shredding her insides.

             
She opened her mouth many times to blurt out some explanation of her behavior but she could never make the words actually come out. What could she say to absolve herself of what she’d done? Nothing. There was nothing she could do to make this situation better and she knew it.

             
It was agonizing to be on that plane with Leo, so close to him physically yet with so much distance between them. She stole glances at him throughout the flight, and each time her heart broke a little more. Once again, at first glance he looked like a motivated businessman working hard on a complicated deal. If Rachel hadn’t grown so close to him in their time together, that’s all she would have noticed. But she knew him well enough to see beyond that, to pick up on the tiniest of cues that something wasn’t right. He sat stiffly in the chair as he worked, his eyes weary, his mouth tightly drawn. She could feel unhappiness radiating from him, could see it in the way he held himself and hear it in his strained breathing.

Every last trace of the playful silliness she’d witnessed on the island was gone, the hints of roguishness wiped so thoroughly from his demeanor that if she hadn’t know better, Rachel would swear she’d imagined it. It was utterly jarring, to have
in her mind the sweet memories of how he’d been on the island and the amazing time they’d had together, and yet see absolutely nothing of that person in Leo now.

             
Rachel was still trying to summon the courage to say something to Leo when the jet touched down at his private airport in New Jersey. Leo left his things laid out at his workstation and walked off the plane, Rachel trailing behind him. He spoke a few low words to his waiting driver, and then turned to reboard the plane.

“
Devers will take you home,” Leo said as he passed her.

He didn’t slow down or look at her when he spoke, and the whole thing happened so quickly Rachel
thought for a minute she was just hearing things. Then his driver took her bags from her, placed them in the trunk of the black sedan, and then opened the car door for her. Rachel gave a last glance at Leo’s back as he walked stiffly up the stairs to the jet and disappeared inside, and then she climbed into the waiting car, still fighting back the sobs that had been threatening to pour out of her since that morning.

             
Back in Brooklyn, she dragged herself up the stairs to her apartment feeling weighed down by far more than her overnight bag. All she wanted to do was crawl into her bed and cry into her pillow until she was too exhausted to do anything but sleep.

             
When she walked into her apartment and saw her brother and father on the couch, she realized she’d actually forgotten that they had moved in with her. It was certainly impossible to forget now, with their clothes strewn throughout her apartment, the dirty dishes piling up in the sink, the pizza boxes and takeout containers covering her table. She felt overwhelmed with frustration and sadness as she surveyed the mess, and she simply didn’t have the energy to deal with it or her family right now. She exchanged a few token sentences with Jamie and her father before disappearing into her room and shutting the door on it all.

             
She tossed her bag onto the floor and then sank into her bed. She sat there for untold minutes, lost in thoughts of Leo and what had happened over the last week, until a soft knock on her bedroom door brought her back to herself. “Yes?” she called out.

             
The door cracked open and her father stuck his head in. “You okay, baby?” he asked.

             
“I’m fine, dad,” Rachel said, trying to keep her voice steady.

             
Robert looked at her awkwardly. “Can I come in for a minute?”

             
Rachel resisted the urge to sigh heavily. “Sure, dad. What do you need?” Whatever it was, she hoped she could muster the mental energy to deal with it.

             
Robert walked over and sat next to her on her bed, his added weight causing the springs to sag and creak. He sat silently for a moment, looking down at his hands, as though the words he wanted to say were written in the creases and callouses of his palms and fingers and he needed time to find them. Rachel watched him, feeling a quick pang of hurt at how beaten down he looked. His face was lined and puffy, and he sat hunched over on her bed, as though his worry and grief had physical mass and he couldn’t bear the weight of it any longer.

             
“I’m sorry,” Robert said, his voice low and quiet.

             
His words took Rachel by surprise. “For what?”

             
“For everything.” Robert gave her a quick glance before looking down at his hands again. He squeezed them into fists. “For moving in here and not pulling my weight and…I don’t know.” He shook his head and blew out a frustrated breath. “For not being a dad to you since…since your mom…” He broke off, brought his hands to his face and rubbed his eyes roughly.

             
“Oh, dad.” Rachel put a hand on her father’s shoulder. “I know how hard it’s been for you and Jamie.”

             
“And you, too. Look, I’m not good at this stuff, at…talking to you about this. But don’t think that I don’t know how hard it’s been on you, to have to deal with your brother and me.”

             
“It’s not hard,” Rachel protested. “Of course I’m here for you two. We’re family and—”

             
“And we should be here for you, too,” Robert broke in, finally leveling his gaze at her. “But we haven’t been, and I’m sorry for that. I know it seems like I don’t notice anything, but I do, and I can see that you’re upset now, that you’ve been dealing with something lately.”

             
Rachel studied her father’s face, wondering how much she should add to the already heavy load he carried. “I’ve just got a stressful assignment at work,” she said. “That’s all.”

             
“Do you want to talk about it?”

             
Rachel shook her head. “It’s nothing, dad. Don’t worry about it. Once I get through this assignment, everything will be fine.”

             
“You sure?”

             
“Yes.”

             
“I’ll let you get back to your work, then.” Robert leaned forward and kissed her lightly on the forehead. “Let me know if you need anything.”

             
“I will.” She gave her father a quick hug.

             
Robert left her room, closing the door behind him. Alone again, her thoughts turned back to Leo and Karen and the story she couldn’t write, and there were so many issues and emotions swirling through her she couldn’t even tease apart what she was actually feeling. She was bombarded with thoughts of Leo, the things he said, how she’d felt around him, what they’d done together. She tried to pick through her worry and uncertainty about Leo, her job, her family. Allison’s words kept replaying in her mind telling her she needed to stop taking on everyone else’s issues, that enabling Jamie and her father was only taking their strength away from them and leaving all three of them weak. She heard Leo telling her to find the courage to face life instead of hiding from it, that giving in to fear meant burying yourself in it. She finally confronted head on what wallowing in that fear and apprehension had gotten her, how she’d let it take over and drive her actions. She made herself see how it was destroying whatever was good about her relationship with her family, how it had already ruined any chance she’d had with Leo.

She
sat on her bed in her tiny room for hours and made herself examine every last angle of every last relationship she had—work, friends, family, Leo. It was an excruciatingly painful process and many times she wanted to look away from the truth. She desperately wanted to bury her head under her pillow and hide from it all, to let the sobs finally burst forth and let herself be overcome with sadness and self-pity.

But it was beyond time to stop
wallowing.

She needed to put an end to
all the hiding and the denial and the rationalizing. Now it was time to act, to fight her way out of the mess she’d created and figure out how to make it right.

             
Rachel took her laptop out of her overnight bag and turned it on. She began to type, hesitantly at first but soon her fingers were flying over the keyboard. She had a plan, it was forming in her mind faster than she could type it out, and now she just needed to tap into her growing courage to see it through.

             
“Come on, dude, let me in. You can’t avoid me forever. I won’t go away. You know I’ll just keep popping up again and again like a bad case of—”

             
Leo swung his penthouse door open and stared at Rivers. The action had cut his friend off mid-sentence, and Rivers stood in Leo’s doorway with his mouth still open, his fist raised as he was about to pound on the door that was no longer right in front of him. He looked stunned that Leo had actually opened the door.

             
“Malaria!” Rivers said. “You don’t have to glower at me like that. I was going to say pop up like a bad case of
malaria
.”

             
Leo would normally at least smile at his friend’s stupid goofiness, but he couldn’t muster up even the smallest amount of energy to change his frown into any other expression. He turned on his heel and walked back to the kitchen, leaving the door open so Rivers could follow him…or not, Leo didn’t really care. He grabbed a beer from the fridge and then banged around the drawers for a bottle opener, barely noticing that his friend was indeed right behind him.

             
“Oh, thanks. I’d love some.” Rivers pointedly accepted the offer Leo hadn’t extended.

             
“Why are you here?” Leo opened another beer and slid it across the kitchen island to his friend.

             
Rivers sat on the stool and picked up his bottle, making a great show of taking a big gulp. “What? I need a reason to stop by? Since when do I need a reason to hang out with you?”

             
“Since I told you I’ve been busy lately and don’t have time to ‘hang out.’ I told you I’d let you know when things ease up.”

             
“Yeah, yeah. I know. But I haven’t seen you since before you went down to Acarigua, and that was weeks ago. You’ve taken exactly one of my calls, and that was to say you’re too busy to take my calls. No one else has seen you. You haven’t been out to any of the usual places. I just wanted to make sure you’re still alive.”

             
“I told you, I’ve been caught up with stuff.”

             
Rivers nodded. “I get it. It’s just that you’ve been crazy busy before, but you’ve never completely fallen off the grid. It’s weird.”

             
Leo frowned at his friend. Why couldn’t Rivers just leave him alone like he’d asked? “You can see for yourself I’m still alive.” He’d meant his perfunctory tone to indicate that it was the end of the conversation and Rivers should leave, but the guy seemed perfectly comfortable to sit in Leo’s kitchen and drink his beer while Leo glared at him.

             
“I ran into Mark Laniard yesterday,” Rivers said nonchalantly.

             
Leo said nothing.