Fated to be Mine (2 page)

I nod. “I won’t be late.”

The engine purrs softly to life and the click of her seatbelt sounds over the phone. “Good. I’m off for the day. I’m having a much-needed spa day with the mayor’s wife. Remember, don’t be late. Goodbye, Tessa.”

“Goodbye, Shar-“

She hangs up before I even finish her name. Well, that took more energy than I wanted to use today. And she’s going to lecture me on manners? Honestly, I’m not even sure why they bother with me. I am an adult after all and don’t need checking up on. Why did I promise to have dinner with them? Once again, it all boils down to pity and obligation with my father, which I find completely ironic since he never cared about me until I was eighteen and a legal adult. And even then it was already too late. The damage was done and nothing could erase the years of pain that had been brought to my life. I slide down the couch further, wanting nothing more than to sleep the rest of the weekend away.

I stretch my arms above my head several hours later, feeling moderately refreshed and thankful to wake up still lying on the couch instead of the floor. But like everything else there’s a sacrifice to be made. Instead of waking up with a bruised cheek or pounding head, I’m greeted with the not so pleasant cramping of my neck from being contorted awkwardly against the arm of the couch.

The sun is in its final descent, casting an orange hue along the buildings and trees outside my window. The howling of the wind causes a shiver to run down my spine as the newly fallen leaves dance down the street before being picked up and carried away to destinations unknown.
If only that could happen to me.
What I wouldn’t give to be taken away from here, away from my life and all its problems. There was a possibility of that happening, at least I thought there was, but how mistaken I was in believing that good things happen to the damned.

His bright sapphire eyes still haunt me every time I close my eyes. The scent of his cologne invades my nose as I picture him standing near me, holding his hand out to me, telling me everything is going to be okay. That I really am his love, as he called me. Ugh, that stupid pet name. Damn sexy British men.

My phone beeps at my side, alerting me to an incoming message. Ice forms in my veins as I think about what the message could be and who its sender is. Realistically it would only be one of two people. I hesitantly pick up my phone and swipe my finger across the screen then sag back into the couch as I see Kara’s name appear.

You better be alive. I’m coming over to check up on you.

Oh God, please no. I don’t think I can entertain anyone right now, even if it is my best friend and boss.

Really, I'm okay. See, alive and well. No need to check up on me.

Within minutes, her response shows up, not shocking me in the least.

Too late. Couple blocks away. Be right there.

Damn. There goes my quiet night of self-loathing and private pity party. But then again maybe it won’t be so bad. I mean it is Kara and she knows exactly how to stop my mind from working, which I would welcome with open arms right now. And Kara Thomas doesn’t exactly take no for an answer.

Within five minutes, my door is being pounded on and I barely have time to stand before it flies open with Kara filling the frame, holding two bottles of wine out in front of her.

“Chickie! You and I are having a movie marathon tonight. And I knew one bottle would not be enough so I brought two.” She walks right past me, putting her coat on a barstool and tossing a few DVDs from her bag onto the counter.

“Thanks, Kara, but you didn’t need to come over. I’m okay, really.” I pull the sash of my robe tighter around my body before taking down two wine glasses from the cupboard. Kara looks me up and down and starts laughing hysterically.

“Are you kidding me? You’re still wearing a robe and your pajamas for crying out loud. And seriously, puppy dog slippers? What are you, five? I need to give you a makeover something fierce.”

Kara brushes past me, grabbing the electric wine opener off the counter to uncork the first bottle. She fills the glasses with the already chilled white wine and hands me one, raising hers in the process to clink them together.

“Tonight we’re not thinking about guys. It’s a No Boys Allowed night.”

I silently laugh and take a rather large sip of the wine, relaxing my shoulders a bit. Kara always gets the best wines and tonight her flavor of choice is a Riesling.

“Sounds good to me. So what movies did you bring?” I pick up the cases to give them a once over, making sure she won’t be torturing me with scary movies.

“We are going to have a Sandra Bullock marathon tonight. We could use a little bit of comedy after this last week.” She winks at me and ushers me back into my living room. Still holding onto the movies, I crawl to the player while Kara occupies the spot I just vacated on the couch, tucking her feet underneath her body. At least she dressed down slightly to come over here. Although even her yoga pants and off the shoulder sweatshirt still make her look runway-worthy.

“Which one first? The Proposal or Miss Congeniality?” I ask, waving the two movies in front of my face. Kara taps her fingernail against her wine glass as she brings it up to her lips.

“Such choices. Hmm.”

I laugh as she smirks at me. “Give me a break. I know you want your Ryan Reynolds fix first.” I open the case and put the DVD into the player before a pillow sails near my head, barely missing me.

“Shut up! It’s you that has the unhealthy obsession with him. How many of his movies do you own?” she asks, raising one perfectly plucked eyebrow at me. With the remote in my hand, I plop down on the couch next to her, turning the necessary devices on.

“That’s not the point,” I say with a chuckle. She laughs with me as I hit play. Five minutes of her being here and already my mood has lifted considerably. I love this woman to death. “Besides, you can’t tell me you don’t want to see Ryan Reynolds naked body.”

“Hey, I never said that. I’m all for Ryan getting naked in every scene. In fact, that’s what I’m going to do. Every scene he’s in I’m going to pretend his beautiful ass is naked, even though he looks so hot in a suit.”

“Kara, only you would do something like that.”

“Don’t judge. You’ll be doing the same thing now that I put the idea in your head.”

And she’s right. I will. Because let’s face it, the man has a smoking hot body. We watch for a little bit and my gaze falls on my feet.

“So you really don’t like my puppy dog slippers?” I ask, knowing what the answer is.

The disgusted look on her face has me almost spitting my wine all over the coffee table in front of us. Luckily, I keep it in because I know that would be alcohol abuse, which is a grievous crime, punishable by weeks of ridicule.

“Tell me you’re joking,” she says dryly.

I shrug my shoulders. “So I have them. Big deal. It’s not exactly like anyone is going to see me wearing them except you.”

“You never know. Your dream pizza delivery guy could see you wearing those hideous things and be like, um, well, I was going to bang her. Then I saw her slippers and decided not to tap that after all.”

I laugh and shove at her. “As if I’m going to go for the pizza delivery guy anyway. I need to find someone with a slightly more stable job and isn’t sixteen and covered in acne.”

She laughs and takes another sip of her wine. “Okay, very true.” She pauses, seeming to consider her next statement carefully. “I still think Andrew is head over heels for you. There must have been a misunderstanding. There is absolutely no way he is going to turn down a hot piece of ass like you.”

The spot above my heart begins to ache again as I try to rub the pain away. “Yeah, you’ve told me how hot I am in my current attire. Can’t imagine him not wanting this. Besides, didn’t you say this was a No Boys Allowed zone? No more talking about guys or London or events that happened over there.”

Her face softens, placing a sympathetic hand on my knee. “You’re right. Tonight is about funny women, wine, and pressing slow motion while Ryan gets naked. Then rewinding and doing it all over again.”

I nod and clink my wine glass to hers. “I’ll drink to that.”

And then our scene comes on, and for the next twenty minutes we appreciate the fine male specimen on the TV in slow motion, still frame and reluctantly in regular motion to finish the movie.

I
T’S FINALLY HERE, SUNDAY NIGHT
. I was hoping to maybe contract a sudden case of the flu, or maybe even the bubonic plague. Anything to get out of this dinner tonight with my father and Sharon. I can think of hundreds of things I’d rather do, including letting my heart bleed open and think about Andrew. But no, I’ll play the part of the good daughter, imagining my father actually cares about me, and will engage in uncomfortable conversation for the next two hours.

I pass the sign welcoming me to Lilydale and instantly I want to turn around and go back downtown. My crappy car and less than designer clothes make me feel almost homeless just driving through the streets. Large mansion-like houses surround me, telling everyone just how well off they are. I am definitely out of my league here.

And yet, I pull into the circular drive of my father’s house and park my car, thankful I arrived in one piece, and on time. My nerves get the best of me as I walk to the front door, constantly tucking and re-tucking strands of hair behind my ear. As soon as I see the bright smiling face of the only friendly person in the house I instantly relax.

“Hello, Ms. Martin. How are you this evening?” Miriam says as she pulls me into a hug. I squeeze her back, thankful to see her. She’s an older woman in her mid-sixties and reminds me of Betty White in her Golden Girls days. She has the same overly fluffed hair but in a shade of graying red instead of blond. She’s a little round in the middle and slightly shorter than me. But her smiling face and cheery personality reminds me of my grandma and she treats me just like she used to.

“Miriam, I told you to call me Tess. You know I’m not like my dad and Sharon.”

She reaches up to cup my cheek, her eyes glassing over a bit with emotions. Miriam has worked with my father for the past ten years. I was fortunate to really get to know her during the few months I lived here and thankful she was my saving grace from a life of depression and isolation.

“Of course, my dear. Come, come, in you go before you catch your death out there. You’re not properly dressed for this weather, child.” She takes my light jacket and hangs it up in the hall closet. Sitting on the bench, I slide my boots off, making sure to tuck them underneath so they don’t get in the way. Also, so Sharon doesn’t see them and starts to cast her judgment on my shoe choices.

“How has Colin been?” I ask. Colin Rafferty is Miriam’s husband of the past forty-plus years. I’ve met him on a few occasions and he’s just like her, a sweet little Irish man with a generous heart to match. He owns a small pub in downtown St. Paul and runs it most nights of the week.

“Oh, Colin is doing just fine. Been working day in and day out now since they lost another bartender. Can’t seem to keep young people around long enough anymore.”

I shake my head and follow her down the hall, looping my arm around her waist and hugging her close to me. She squeezes my shoulder as we turn toward my father’s study.

“That’s a shame. Hopefully, you two still make time for each other. I know how crazy life can sometimes get.” And really I only know this because of the past week. If you had asked me how crazy life can get a month ago, my answer would have been different.

“Why of course we do dear. We always see each other at night so don’t worry your pretty little head about us.” Never missing anything, Miriam’s face falls slightly as she notices my appearance. “How about you? Is everything all right in your world?”

I fake my best smile for her, although I’m not sure she buys it. Heck, I don’t even buy it. It’s hard to fake happiness while in this house, along with the recent events of the past few days. “I’m good, Miriam. It’s just been a little … stressful at work this last week. Lots of traveling and not enough sleep.”

Miriam shakes her head, not buying what I’m selling. It doesn’t stop her from enveloping me in an enormous hug, patting my back reassuringly, as only she could.

“You know if you need anything you can call me. And I baked your favorite dessert tonight, just for you.”

My eyes light up. “Apple crisp?”

She nods. “With caramel topping. And I made an extra one for you to bring home.”

I fling my arms around her again. “You’re the best, Miriam.”

She cups my cheek one last time and urges me into the study, where my father is waiting for me behind his massive desk. I knock on the door first to announce my presence. He looks up from his work and acknowledges me in the doorway.

“Tessa. It’s good to see you. Please, come in.” He motions for me to sit in one of the leather wingback chairs in front of the large mahogany desk. His greetings are always formal, but then again he is the Assistant Attorney General for the state. Formality is to be expected.

He takes off his glasses, setting them on top of the stacks of papers that litter his desk. He regards me for a moment and I can’t help but fidget under his stare.