Huddle With Me Tonight (23 page)

Paige shook her head, a self-deprecating grin on her face. “It’s not a cold, Mom. We both know what it is.”

“I didn’t want to just bring him up,” her mother replied.

“It’s okay. It’s been over a week. I think I can handle talking about him.”

She knew she could talk about Torrian with her mother, because she’d just done the same with her sister. But unlike her mother’s subtle, soothing encouragement, Nicole had demanded answers. Paige went through the entire conversation she’d just had with her sister.

“Why would he believe you would be so dishonest?” her mother asked.

Paige hunched her shoulders. She’d asked herself the same question over and over again. Had Barry Stein told Torrian that Paige had been his source? Whatever his reason, Paige had come to one simple conclusion: Torrian didn’t trust her. That’s what mattered.

“I don’t know, Mom. I thought he knew me better than that. I thought
I
knew
him
better. The one thing I do know, this hurts so much it’s killing me.”

“Oh, Olivia,” her mother said, leaning over and enveloping her in a hug.

“It’ll be okay. Eventually.” Paige sniffed. “How’s Dad doing?”

“He’s fine.” Her mother waved her off. “He’s resting.”

“I feel horrible. I came here to help you look after him, and you’ve had to look after me as much as you’ve had to care for Dad.”

“Your father is going to be fine. Medicine has come a long way since your grandfather’s heart attack. They had your dad out of there the next day.”

“It was a blessing Dad’s heart attack was only a mild one, but it was a wake-up call.”

“Yes, it was. No more fried food for him, no matter how much he begs. I am grateful to have you home for a bit, though,” her mother said, nuzzling her forehead against Paige’s.

“I’d rather come home under better circumstances, but I’ll admit it’s nice to be here. It would have been awful to be holed up in my apartment these past few days.”

“Well, as much as I love having you here, you’ll eventually break my heart and go back to New York. You need to think about how you’re going to handle that.”

“I know,” Paige answered. It’s something she’d been mulling over since returning to New Orleans. Just because she’d packed a bag and left her problems, it didn’t mean they wouldn’t be waiting for her when she returned.

“I’ll have dinner ready in about an hour,” her mother said, kissing Paige’s forehead as she rose from the bed.

“I can help,” Paige offered.

“No. You’ve done your share of cooking over the past few weeks.” Her mother laughed. “Stay here, rest.”

“I love you, Mom.”

“I love you, too, baby.”

For long minutes after her mother’s departure, Paige thought back on how many times this scenario had played out between them. From her elementary school days when she cried nightly over kids teasing her inability to read to broken hearts in high school. Her mother had always been there to soothe and comfort, and offer her special brand of support.

It would be so easy to stay here and soak in all that love and consoling, but Paige knew what she had to do. She had to return to New York. There was unfinished business to attend to, a career to grab hold of.

This time back home had given her a chance to engage in some much-needed soul searching. Torrian’s accusations played back and forth in her head. Paige realized he would not have accused her of such vile things if she had not given him good cause. She thought about some of the decisions she’d made over the years. How many times had she been uncomfortable with some of the reviews she’d written but had added a bit of snark to make them more entertaining for her readers?

She thought about the syndication deal. She’d landed it based on her work with
Big Apple Weekly
, but she wasn’t so sure it was what she wanted to do anymore. She should be proud of her work, but she wasn’t proud of some of the things she’d done.

Her mother was right. She needed to get back to New York. She had some hard decisions to make. It was time to see them through.

Chapter 19

T
orrian swept into his sister’s office at the Fire Starter Grille. Theo leaned against the wall with his arms crossed over his mammoth-sized chest. Deirdre sat behind her desk. The tension in the office was thick as chimney smoke.

“Good, you’re both here,” Torrian said.

“You asked me to come,” Theo said.

“I didn’t know if you would,” Torrian answered.

“You’ve been the one ignoring me, Wood, not the other way around.”

“I know. I’m sorry, man. I just needed to get some things straight in my head.”

“And you have?” Deirdre asked.

“Almost,” Torrian answered. “I’m getting there. The meeting I just had with Sabers’ management just took me one giant step forward.” He couldn’t wipe the huge grin from his face. “They offered me a coaching position.”

“What?” Deirdre and Theo both barked.

Torrian nodded. “Avery Collins just accepted the head coaching position in Cincinnati. They moved Josh Newton to offensive coordinator, leaving a vacancy at wide receivers coach. My eyes may not be good enough for the field, but I can coach.”

“Oh my God, Torrian.” Deirdre ran from behind her desk and enveloped him in a hug. “I’m so happy for you.”

“Congratulations, Dawg,” Theo said, clapping Torrian on the back and pulling him in for a one-arm hug.

“Thanks, man. Guess you’ll be seeing me a bit more these days, huh.”

“Not unless you’re up in the press box,” Theo answered.

“You took the job?”

Theo nodded, a grin spreading across his face.

“What job?” Deirdre asked.

“I’m retiring from football after the season is over,” Theo told her.

“Yeah, my man got an offer for this cushy commentator job.”

“You’re quitting?” Deirdre asked.

“Not quitting, retiring,” he answered. “There’s a difference.”

“I didn’t mean to imply…”

“Forget it,” Theo cut her off.

Torrian glared at Theo. “Hey, Dee, you think I can get a reservation for lunch? Theo and I need to celebrate.”

“Of course.” She gave him another kiss on the cheek. “Congratulations again, honey.” She turned to Theo. “Good luck with your new job.”

“Thanks,” he answered with as much emotion as a lump of coal.

Torrian refrained from speaking until they were seated at one of only a few tables available in the restaurant. “What’s going on with you and my sister?” Torrian started.

“Not a damn thing,” Theo answered.

“You sure? Because I think I saw a bit of hurt in Dee’s eyes, and I told you what would happen if you hurt my sister.”

“Your sister didn’t give me a chance, okay. She shot down every attempt I made at getting to know her better. And after asking her out for the fifth time, she straight up told me she didn’t want anything to do with me.” Theo shrugged. “I’m just granting her wish.”

“What’s her wish? For you to act like an ass?”

“Are we going to celebrate our new jobs or debate who’s being the bigger ass when it comes to the women in our lives?”

“Hey, man, don’t try to put me in your league.”

“Really?” Theo deadpanned. “Do you
want
me to bring her up?”

Torrian clenched his jaw. “You win.”

Theo’s cell phone rang. He pulled it from his pocket and held up a finger. “It’s Latoya. I forgot I was supposed to meet her for lunch today.”

While Theo talked to his sister, Torrian signaled the waiter for more wine.

“Oh damn,” Theo muttered. He dragged a hand down his face. “When did you find out? No, I’m…uh, I’m with him right now. I’ll tell him.”

They were talking about him? An uneasy feeling settled in Torrian’s stomach. He rapped his fist on the table, trying to catch Theo’s attention.

“Yeah, Toya, I know you didn’t mean for this to happen,” Theo said. “I’ll talk to you later.” He ended the call and tossed the phone on the table with an aggravated grunt.

“What in the hell is going on? Did Latoya see something on my latest test?”

Theo shook his head. “She would never share medical info with me.” He sighed. “Toya forgot her cell phone in the office. When she went back for it, she found Paul Mixon, the pediatric ophthalmologist who shares her practice, rifling through her files. She confronted him and eventually got Mixon to admit he was the one who leaked your eye condition to the press.”

Shock rooted Torrian to his seat. In the blink of an eye he saw the scenario play out in his head like a movie: Mixon stumbling over his record, the surprise on his face at finding the disease Torrian had tried to hide for so long, the call to Barry Stein, the one reporter who would relish unleashing such pain upon Torrian.

There was one person missing from the picture.

Paige.

“Oh God.” Torrian cradled his head in his hands.

“I’m sorry, Wood,” Theo offered.

“I accused her,” Torrian whispered to himself. Shaking his head from side to side, his mind bombarded him with images of Paige from the last time he’d seen her. The hurt on her face. No, not hurt. There had been
pain
. She’d flinched at every horrible word he’d hurled at her.

He’d wanted to hurt her that night. He’d wanted to inflict some of the agony he’d been feeling from her betrayal.

But she hadn’t betrayed him.

“What have I done?” Torrian said. He looked up at Theo. “I blamed Paige for all of this. If you only knew some of the things I said to her. God, Theo, I hurt her so much.”

“You didn’t know, Wood.”

“You think that matters?” he asked loud enough to cause the heads from several tables around them to turn.

“Hey, c’mon, let’s take this to Deirdre’s office.”

“No,” Torrian said, pushing back from the table. “I need to find her.”

“Now?” Theo asked.

“Yesterday,” Torrian answered.

Torrian signed the visitor’s log and followed the security guard’s directions to the bank of elevators. He knew he was taking a chance, visiting her at work. But when he didn’t find her at her apartment earlier he’d had no choice. He had to see her.

As he rode to the eighth floor where
Big Apple Weekly
’s offices were housed, he imagined how the next ten minutes would play out.

He would grovel. Torrian knew that with certainty. It was nothing less than he deserved. After everything he’d accused Paige of doing, groveling was the least he could do on the road to earning back the trust he knew he’d lost.

God, he’d missed her these last few weeks.

As much as he’d tried to push her out of his heart, not a second went by that he didn’t think about her and the time they’d shared. It had been torture to remember those weeks they’d spent together, because thoughts of her betrayal were never far behind. But it had been a torture Torrian had come to embrace, because nothing hurt more than not thinking of Paige at all.

He exited the elevator and stepped through the frosted glass doors of
Big Apple Weekly
.

“Welcome to Big Apple…hey.” The receptionist’s eyes lit up. “You’re—”

“Torrian Smallwood. Yes. Is Paige Turner here?”

“She’s—”

“No,” another woman said from within the office across from the reception desk. She stopped at the door, crossed her arms over her chest and leaned against the doorjamb.

“Do you know where she is?” Torrian asked.

“Paige doesn’t work here anymore,” she answered. “She quit about three weeks ago.”

“Did she already start the job with the Cambridge Group?”

“No. She turned down the syndication deal.”

“She
what?
”

“I guess you haven’t noticed that her column hasn’t appeared anywhere for weeks.”

Torrian shook his head. He’d purposely avoided any newspaper or magazine that may have carried her syndicated column. He couldn’t stomach seeing the byline he thought she’d sold him out to obtain.

“That deal was everything she’s worked so hard for. Why would she turn it down?”

“I really don’t know, because you’re right, she has worked hard her entire career to get to this point. And just like that, she turned her back on it.”

The thought that he had something to do with Paige’s decision caused a sick feeling to churn in Torrian’s gut.

“Where is she?” he asked.

“If Paige wanted you to know she would have contacted you.”

“Angela,” the receptionist interrupted. “You have a call.”

“I have to go,” the woman said before stepping back into her office and shutting the door.

For several moments Torrian stared at her through the glass window, but she never gave him a second glance. Paige had talked about Angela often, but he’d never met her. Now Torrian knew why the woman had been so cold. Angela and Paige were more than just colleagues; they were good friends.

Torrian turned to the receptionist. “Do you have any idea where Paige is?”

She shook her head, an apologetic expression on her face. “She didn’t say when she left the magazine. Angela is probably the only one she’s still in contact with from the office.”

He wasn’t getting anything out of Angela.

Forty minutes later, he was at his desk firing up his computer. He typed in
Paige Turner
into the search engine.

It generated thousands of results. There were links to her blog, archived articles she’d written, and Webcasts of their cooking segments from
Playing with Fire
. Torrian sat at the computer for a solid hour. He tried every combination of words he could think of to find her.

Just as he was about to throw caution to the wind and try her on her cell, a link caught his eye. It was dated two days ago. He clicked on the link. It took him to the home page of the
Harlem Sentinel
.

The Web site touted itself as a virtual soldier in the fight to reveal the positive side of Harlem. There were articles about various community activities, a neighborhood hero spotlight and a calendar of events. At the very bottom of the home page was the information Torrian had been hoping to find.