Fall Into Me (Heart of Stone) (19 page)

She
wiped under her eyes and sat quietly for a moment. "She made me promise
not to tell our parents who the father was, but when she died, I couldn't lie
to my father and mother anymore. I told them about Taylor and who he was. They
deserved to know who had done this."

"Do
you remember talking to a man named Joseph Edwards after your father's
death?"

Shaking
her head, she suddenly got a look of recognition in her eyes. "I do,
actually. He came to see me because of the bombing. He wanted to know about
your father, though, not Taylor. I told him I didn't know anything about him,
but then I explained everything that had happened with Amanda and your brother.
He seemed to think that they were connected, I think."

"The
bombing and what had happened to your sister."

"Yeah.
The police never thought that, though. They still believe it was a gas
explosion. I don't. I find it too coincidental that after my father tracked
down your brother and told him what had happened to my sister and then your
father's company is part of a case my father is judging that he suddenly is
killed in a gas explosion."

"Do
you remember anything about the case?"

"Not
much. It was just a basic sexual harassment case, a civil suit. Your father's
company was being sued by some woman and my father was the judge in the
case."

I
thought back to what Joseph Edwards had written in his notes about Stone
Worldwide winning the case once Jessica's father wasn't the judge anymore. As
much as I wanted to believe my father hadn't been responsible for Albert
Cashen's death, there was too much to show me otherwise.

"That
man, Joseph Edwards, told me he'd want to talk more with me, but he never
returned. How did you find out about him?"

I
swallowed hard before I began to tell the events that had brought me to Nina
and ultimately, to Jessica and the truth of my family. "Joseph Edwards was
murdered shortly after he spoke to you. His daughter is the person I believe
may be helped by what you've told me."

Jessica
covered her face with her hands. "Oh, my God! He was murdered? They killed
him, didn't they? Your father and brother killed him like they killed my
father."

Unable
to hide from the overwhelming facts anymore, all I could do was nod in
agreement. A young girl was dead because my brother had been a manipulative
bastard and coward, and my father had had two men killed to protect Taylor and his own despicable actions.

"I
don't know anything else, Tristan. That's all I have. I heard your family was
killed in a plane crash a few months after my father and sister died."

"They
were," I said quietly.

"I'm
sorry. I guess you're the CEO of Stone Worldwide now. You know, I fantasized at
least a thousand times about what I wanted to do to ruin your family like your
brother and father ruined mine. I used to think about exposing everything they
did and taking all that money your family has. I wanted to hurt you like they
hurt me."

Jessica's
voice caught in her throat and she looked away. When she turned back to face
me, her expression wasn't one of hate or anger as it had been seconds earlier
but sadness. "I think I feel sorry for you, Tristan. We've both lost
everyone in our families, but I get to remember my sister and father as good
people who never intentionally hurt anyone. You can't do that. Now that I've
met you, I'm sorry you have to go through life knowing that."

I
felt like I'd just been slammed in the chest with a cinder block. The truth of
her statement was almost too much to handle. Here I was in a common suburban
home I could buy twenty of with someone who had lost everything in her life,
and I was the one being pitied. I, Tristan Stone, was worthy of pity for my
family's guilty behavior.

"Please
tell Joseph Edwards' daughter that my sympathies are with her. I know what
she's going through."

I
stood to leave, needing to get out of there as quickly as possible. She
followed me to the door as we said our generic goodbyes, and as I left, she
grabbed my arm to force me to turn around. I stopped dead and looked at her,
not wanting to hear any more.

"I
believe you're trying to do the right thing, Tristan. I can't imagine how hard
this must be for you. I hope after what I've said you can find some kind peace
with all this."

The
car waited for me at the end of the sidewalk, and while I watched Jessica's
house grow smaller as I drove away, I also hoped someday I'd be able to find
some kind of peace after everything I'd learned.

Chapter Nineteen

Nina

I
had basically fallen in love with the Peachtree Suite within an hour of being
there. This was my first trip to one of Tristan's hotels since my accident, not
counting his incredible penthouse, and I loved the idea that I could add my
artistic touch to such beautiful places. The colors of the suite were muted
neutrals, but the designer had included a splash of color with deep burgundy
draperies. I wanted to highlight that accent and really make it pop.

That's
not to say I was even sure I could do the job. I hadn't told anyone, not even Jordan, but just thinking about picking out art made my palms sweat. Hours and hours of
studying artistic styles and techniques in my room each day since I'd been
released from the hospital had given me a small sense of confidence, but the
real litmus test would be when I had to choose pieces for my first assignment.

I
had a feeling Tristan had picked this suite as a simple job so I could ease
myself back into things. As I scanned the over one thousand square foot area
surrounding me, I tried not to feel intimidated. How couldn't I, though? The
rooms rivaled the country house in beauty. The walls were painted to look like
aged cream colored plaster, heavy white crown moldings typical of southern
architecture framed the rooms, and the showstopper of the living room was a
white cararra marble fireplace flanked by two French doors draped in that
stunning burgundy color.

What
could I add to all that?

All
the ideas I'd had when I was searching at home felt wrong now that I was
standing in the middle of this stunning suite. I wondered if maybe I should
focus on something that would resonate with the local area instead of choosing
something based on a certain style or color palette. I'd always loved the art
at the Philly museums in part because it showcased the flavor of the local art
scene. If I could find a piece or grouping that was not only beautiful but meaningful
to Atlanta area instead of focusing on improving what the decorator had chosen,
the room might actually be better because of the art.

At
least that's what I tried to convince myself of as I stood there in the center
of all that beauty.

I
set off to the first bedroom to do some searching. Sitting legs folded on the
bed, I tapped away on my laptop for information on artists right there in Atlanta. As I looked through page after page of artwork, none of them seemed right. They
were all beautiful, but I was looking for something else—something that spoke
to me—even if I wasn't sure what it was.

And
then I saw that something. A local artist, Everett Shean, painted scenes of Cumberland Island, a barrier island off the coast of Georgia, and as I studied his oil
paintings, I saw a turtle he'd created a series of paintings around. A few
clicks to get to the series' page on his website and I found out the turtle was
a loggerhead sea turtle that was an endangered species on Cumberland Island.

Déjà
vu struck as I stared at that turtle and all of a sudden I realized I was
having a memory from the past four years! The turtle looked like the turtle
character from Finding Nemo, the one that sounded like a surfer and called
everyone "Dude." The memory of watching that movie with one of my
nieces hit me and out of the blue I had remembered that entire evening I'd
babysat for Kim and Jeff!

I
needed to tell someone, and since Tristan wasn't back from his meeting yet, I
grabbed my cell phone and called my sister. She'd be so happy to hear my memory
was finally coming back.

She
answered, and I blurted out, "Kim, I remember that night I babysat and we
watched Finding Nemo! Do you remember? You and Jeff went to dinner, and I
babysat. Isn't it great?"

"Whoa!
Slow down. What are you talking about, Nina? Are you okay? Where are you?"

I
jumped off the bed and began to pace, my free arm flailing as I spoke.
"I'm great! I'm in Atlanta with Tristan and as I was researching the art I
wanted to show him for the suite, I saw this turtle that's endangered on one of
the barrier islands off of Georgia. The turtle is the focus of a series by a
local artist. He paints in oil, which is always so rich. You should see these
paintings, Kim. They're gorgeous!"

"Baby,
what turtle are you talking about? You're talking so fast I can't understand
what you're saying."

"The
one who calls everyone Dude, like he's a surfer."

"What?"

"In
the movie," I explained in frustration. "What's the Finding Nemo
turtle's name?"

"Nina,
I have no idea what you're talking about. Who's Nero?" she asked, sounding
almost as frustrated as I was.

"Nemo!
You know. The fish. He's lost and his father has to find him. Oh, forget it!
The point is that I remembered something from the past four years. My memory is
coming back! Isn't that great?"

"It
is, but I'm still not comfortable with you staying out at that house with
someone you barely know, Nina."

Her
voice had that condescending tone it got when she was chastising me for
something. I hated that tone of voice. "Kim, Tristan isn't a stranger or
someone I barely know. I was engaged to him before the accident. He's a good
man, and I love him. Don't ruin this for me. I was so happy when I called
you."

"I
don't want to ruin anything for you. I just think you're too naive and get
yourself into things you don't understand."

My
chest tightened as tears welled in my eyes. I couldn't help get emotional. All
I'd wanted to do was share my wonderful news and now I had to defend myself
once again to my sister, whose opinion of my life I didn't give a damn about.

"Why?
Because I don't keep myself all closed off and guarded? Because I give people a
chance? I know that people like you think that makes me stupid or idiotic, but
it's who I am. I can't change that, and I don't want to. I like being open to
new things, and that includes new people. If I was like you, I would have never
gotten to know Tristan."

"How
would you know, Nina? You can't even remember. For all you know, he manipulated
you into this whole thing. You don't know everything about him."

"Thanks,
Kim."

I
jammed my fingertip onto the screen of my phone and hung up on her. Throwing
the phone on the bed, I let the tears come as I stood there with my shoulders
hunched from the weight of her negativity.

I
should have known better. Why didn't I call Jordan?

A
noise behind me made me turn around and I saw Tristan standing there looking as
beaten down as I felt. His tie was loosened, his suit looking like it hung from
a body exhausted from dealing with the world all day. I wiped the tears from my
cheeks and forced a smile.

"Hey,
you look as bad as I feel."

"What
happened? Did someone come by the room?" he asked in a voice filled with
worry.

Shaking
my head, I tried not to think of Kim's words, but I couldn't help it. I'd been
so happy just minutes earlier and now sadness that my only family member left
couldn't find any joy in my news made my heart heavy. "No. I was just on
the phone with my sister."

Just
as he had in the hospital, Tristan grew stiff at the mere mention of Kim.
"What did she say? I hope you aren't listening to her, Nina."

"I'm
not. I just called her with good news and she was so negative. All I wanted was
to share something that had made me really happy, and she didn't care."

Tristan
walked toward me and stopped just inches away. Leaning down, he kissed me and
stroked the pad of his thumb over my damp cheek. "I'm here now, so you can
tell me."

I
leaned into his hand, loving the strength of it beneath my head. Looking up at
the concern etched into his features, I smiled, hoping to ease some of his
worry. "I remembered something. It's not much, but it's something."

His
expression changed to one of surprise, but I sensed his concern wasn't abated.
Brown eyes that said so much about how he was feeling looked intently into mine
as he spoke. "What did you remember?"

"Babysitting
my nieces one night. It's nothing important."

Pulling
me close, he held me tight as he kissed the top of my head, whispering low, "Don't
say that. It's very important. You're beginning to remember things."

I
loved the feel of his arms around me, protecting me from even the unkind words
of my sister. I wished I could do the same for him. As strong as he was, I knew
whatever he'd been dealing with had worn him down.

"Thank
you. That's all I wanted to hear when I called her, but instead she just harped
on how stupid she thinks I am. She thinks you're manipulating me into doing
things I shouldn't be doing." I looked up at him and smiled. "As if
falling in love is something I shouldn't do."

He
cradled my face and shook his head. "Don't listen to her. Falling in love
with me was exactly what you should do. I should know. I fell in love with you
first."

I
tapped his chin with my finger. "This time. I'm still convinced when I
remember everything that I'm going to find out that I was crazy about you long
before you loved me."

A
shadow crossed his face and then it was gone and he was smirking at me like I
was acting silly. From anyone else in the world, that kind of smirk would have
irritated the hell out of me, but from Tristan, it was just too cute.

"So
would you like to see the art I think would work here?"

"Sure."

"Righteous,
dude," I joked as I headed over to the bed.

"Righteous,
dude?" he asked as he raised his eyebrows in disbelief.

I
motioned to him to come sit next to me as I browsed through Everett Shean's
website. When I finally found the turtle pictures, I turned my laptop toward
him. "These are loggerhead sea turtles and they're an endangered species
on a barrier island off of Georgia's coast. I know they aren't fancy or the
kind of art you would normally see in a hotel suite like this, but I think they'd
work. He blends vivid colors on the turtle backs that I think might look nice
here against the effect your designer created on the neutral color walls."

"And
these are, what did you call them? Righteous?" he asked as he leaned in to
examine the paintings.

I
couldn't help but giggle. Sometimes he was so serious. "No. I was making a
reference to the turtle in Finding Nemo. You know? The one who talks like a
surfer?"

"Finding
who?"

"Finding
Tristan Stone's sense of humor. It was a huge hit," I teased. "I
can't believe you never watched that movie."

Before
I could explain any more about the cartoon or the turtle paintings, his phone
vibrated inside his jacket and all traces of any happiness slid from his face
as he rose from the bed. "I have to take this."

Like
always, I wanted to ask who it was who could make him instantly miserable every
time they called. I didn't, though, silently swearing that one of these days I
would find out who the bastard on the phone was who ruined so many nice moments
between us. He walked out of the room and I heard the door to the suite close
behind him, but something inside told me to follow him this time. I wanted to
know now who was haunting him.

I
flung open the door to find him standing in the hallway with a man who looked
to be about fifty or so. He was thick and reminded me of a police detective
from a TV show. He stood too close to Tristan, like he was trying to intimidate
him, and although I couldn't hear clearly what he was saying, it sounded
ominous.

"Tristan,
is everything okay?"

He
spun around, his eyes flashing angrily, and for a second I recoiled back into
the room, afraid of what I'd interrupted. Stepping toward me, he took my hand
and squeezed it tightly. The other man followed him into our suite, and we
stood awkwardly for a moment before Tristan finally spoke.

"Nina,
this is the Vice President of Operations for Stone Worldwide, Karl Dreger.
Karl, I'd like to introduce you to my fiancée, Nina Edwards."

Karl
extended his meaty hand and shook mine. "How very nice to finally meet
you, Nina. I've heard a lot about you."

Smiling,
I pulled my hand away as soon as I could. "It's nice to meet you
too."

"I'm
so sorry to interrupt your little getaway. I just needed to remind Tristan of a
deadline. Now that I have, I'll leave you to your evening. I hope you have a
wonderful holiday, Nina."

His
voice made my skin crawl. It was smarmy and threatening at the same time. Tristan's
hand continued to clutch mine tightly, as if he was afraid to let go. I was
glad for the feel of him holding me, protecting me from this person. This man
he worked with was only in the room for a few moments, but I was left with the
surest sense that he held something dark or evil inside him.

As
the door closed, Tristan pulled me close to him, wrapping his arms around me.
"Nina, you are never to be alone with him. Please don't ask me to explain.
Just promise me that if you ever see him again without me, you'll get
away."

My
ear pressed against his chest, and I heard his heart race wildly.
"Tristan, is he the person who calls and ruins your mood every time? I
won't ask you to explain, but tell me if that's him."

He
was silent for so long I wondered if he'd heard me over the pounding of his heart,
but finally, he said, "Yes. I'm sorry."

I
squeezed him tighter. "You don't have to be sorry. I just wish you felt
like you could tell me what's wrong."

Tristan
stroked my hair and back as his heartbeat settled into its normal, slower
rhythm. Kissing the top of my head, he said sadly, "Someday when you have
your memories back, I'll tell you."

"Okay."
Hoping to change the subject to lighten our mood, I looked up at this face
etched with a frown and said, "I liked the way you introduced me. Fiancée.
I don't know if you said that for some other reason than wanting me to be that
again, but I'd like it to be true."