All of Me (Inside Out Series Book 6) (11 page)

The glow of hundreds of small lights illuminate the inky black night, held by hundreds of people.

My heart squeezes and tears come to my eyes. Rebecca was so alone when she was alive, and now all of these people are here for her. She has touched so many lives, especially mine, and she’ll never know. She was brave and strong, and her words made me those things as well. Before her, I’d been hiding, alone and afraid to reach for my dreams.

Mark goes down on one knee, his head bowing, Crystal immediately kneeling beside him. Pain radiates off of him, crashing around us like the ocean. I know he is bleeding right now, and there’s nothing but time, and Crystal’s love, that will heal him. But Chris and I can make sure that, though Rebecca is gone, she is never forgotten.

I know now that I’m not the woman who can reveal the man beneath the Master. I’m simply a part of his journey, and he of mine. But there’s a part of me that hopes he will miss me. That maybe we will find each other again someday. I didn’t dare see him again, or touch him again, for fear I’d be weak and change my mind. I left him a note on his desk, and said all there was left to say:
Good-bye—Love, Rebecca

•    •    •

When Jacob drops us at our apartment, Crystal and I make plans to stay in touch and she and Mark promise to be at the wedding. Chris and I are exhausted, both from the emotional impact of the night and from the time change, and we’re quick to head to bed. With Chris wrapped around me, I fall asleep quickly, but I startle awake when he begins jerking and suddenly sits up, gasping. I reach for him to find him clammy and he leans forward, elbows on his knees.

I scoot closer, and on my knees I rest my hand on his back. “Are you okay?”

“An old nightmare I haven’t had in years. My father. Katie made me start thinking about the past.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“No,” he says, standing up, grabbing his pajama bottoms and pulling them on. “I need to paint.” He starts walking and I feel the dismissal like a slice in my heart, but then he stops dead in his tracks.

I hold my breath as he runs his hand through his hair, and then comes back to me. “I don’t want to talk about it
yet—
but I will.” He offers me his hand. “Come with me.”

Goosebumps lift on my skin, and I feel relief. I press my hand to his, and I can almost see the same relief wash over him, as if I have given him some kind of peace. And I am more certain in this moment than I have ever been that we are indeed the two pieces of a puzzle I’d once thought us to be.

Now, that puzzle is complete.

Part Eleven

Making Roses
out of Wildflowers

Chris’s studio is surrounded by windows, and he pulls a cozy chair into the room for me where I settle with my laptop, staring out at the twinkling night sky. I stay there for hours, and he eventually curls up beside me to watch the sun rise. We don’t go back to sleep, though, our body clocks off from the time change. Instead, we go sample cakes, and finally choose one strawberry and one chocolate, both with a cream filling that’s decadent and unique in a way that redefines the flavors.

By mid-morning we’ve checked on Ella, with no news to be had, and Chris is quick to distract me from worry with cake and flowers. Katie is pleased with our choices, but I don’t miss how Chris avoids talking to her, and I’m pretty sure she doesn’t, either. His godfather, Mike, even calls once and Chris doesn’t answer.

I don’t ask what is bothering him; he’ll talk about it when he’s ready. I know when to ask questions now, and when to just help him breathe. So I revel in being home, getting unpacked, having a workout in the gym, and enjoying a bottle of champagne with pizza, which ends with us falling asleep on the couch.

The next morning, we’re both feeling more rested, and Chris suggests we go to the garage to check out my new car. I’m eager to see it, now that I’m past that trigger of guilt I’d felt initially. When I spot the shiny, gorgeous new car, I rush to open the door, quickly climbing inside.

I can see Chris’s pleasure at my pleasure, and I’m reminded that besides wanting me to fully embrace sharing his life, he needs that connection to put the past behind him, like me.

I stand up and wrap my arms around his neck. “I love it. Thank you. Can we take it for a ride?”

Alex, who has been standing in the background, clears his throat. “Not advisable. The press hasn’t left the front of the building. This car will end up on their radar, and you’ll end up with them on your tail.”

Chris’s hands go to his hips and his expression tightens. “No. We aren’t playing this game on their terms. Let’s give them what they want so they’ll stop haunting us.” He grabs his phone and dials. “Jacob. How soon can you get here? I need to borrow you to assist Alex for an hour. Good. See you in five.” He ends the call. “Let’s go meet the public.”

“What are we doing, Chris?” I ask as he tugs me toward the building, while Alex quickly falls into place.

“We’re going to talk to the press so it will run on all of the stations. Otherwise we’ll still be a story come our wedding day, and we’ll risk it being interrupted.” He eyes Alex. “You up to the task?”

“Yes, sir,” he assures Chris, as if there was any other acceptable answer, considering Chris seems to have made up his mind. “I’ll warn the apartment security and we’ll handle the crowd. When is Jacob arriving?”

“He was next door at the Italian joint eating pizza,” Chris replies. “He should be here now.” He stops and faces me, hands on my shoulders. “There’s no police investigation to silence us now. The plan is to walk outside, let them fire questions at us, and we answer them. We get the inevitable over with, and they lose interest.”

“That makes sense. Yes. I’m ready to get this behind us.”

He gives me a nod of approval and we walk hand-in-hand into the lobby, pausing as Alex talks to the new security guy, Max. Max eyes us as Alex speaks, giving a nod of acceptance.

“Ready to do this thing?” Jacob asks, appearing in front of us from I don’t know where, because he didn’t come in the front door.

“Let’s do it,” Chris confirms.

Jacob leads us forward, while Alex and Max follow behind us. The instant we reach the sliding glass doors, at least ten reporters charge toward us. I blink and we step outside, but I don’t feel the winter chill as cameras are pointed at us and lights start flashing. I feel suffocated and hot and more than a little ready to be done with this.

“How long did you know Ava Perez, Ms. McMillan?” one reporter asks.

“Did you sleep with Ms. Perez, Mr. Merit?” another asks.

A microphone is shoved at my face. “How do you feel about the deals that were made?”

Chris shoves it away. “Enough,” he shouts. “One question at a time. And no, I did not sleep with Ava Perez.”

“I met her when I went to work at the gallery,” I say, following his lead. “And I’m upset about the deals made. None of them got enough time for what they did. Rebecca is dead.”

Answers don’t calm the beasts within these reporters. The questions start firing from everyone again and Chris grimaces, motioning to Jacob and whispering in his ear.

Jacob grabs one of the reporters and pulls her with him, disappearing somewhere behind us. I’d ask questions but there are too many being thrown at me for me to even think straight. Chris and I answer a few of them, but people talk over us to the point that I’m not sure we are heard. One reporter, a middle-aged man wearing a Hawaiian shirt under a blazer, is particularly rude and keeps shoving that stupid microphone in my face. When I’m at my wit’s end, Alex and Max step in front of Chris and Chris takes my arm, pulling me back inside the building.

“Are we done?” I ask, sensing there is more going on than I know.

“Not quite,” he says, and Jacob appears from a doorway by the front desk, motioning us forward.

“We’re going to give an exclusive interview to kill some of the curiosity. And we’ll do it now, so the reporter has no time to come up with ridiculous questions.” He stops before we enter the room. “Are you okay with this?”

“If it ends this frenzy, then yes.”

“It won’t end it, but it will be a step toward making that happen.”

“If it’s not over, what comes after this?”

“We step back outside and let them go at us one last time. Then we have Alex and Jacob sneak us out of here, and we go see Katie and Mike. We can talk through the wedding plans while the reporters are too busy with today’s footage to come hunting for us. Tomorrow morning, we return here and we don’t hide. We get out and about and we let those bloodsuckers have at us. By the time we head to Sonoma to get married, it will be over. We can come home after our wedding in peace. Or, we can do what I think is safer: You let me take you someplace amazing for our honeymoon, just to be certain no one bothers us. At this point, that’s my preference.”

“Have you ever been to Hawaii?” I ask, the memory of the rude reporter’s tropical shirt sparking the idea.

“Believe it or not, I haven’t.”

“Then can we go there? I know it’s not another country, but we can experience something new together for the first time.”

He smiles. “Yes. We can go to Hawaii. Exploring somewhere with you for the first time is perfect for our honeymoon.”

“Then I’m ready. Let’s go do this interview.”

•    •    •

Four hours later, Chris and I have parked the 911 beside the winery owned by his godparents and, hand-in-hand once more, we start up the concrete steps leading to the magnificent ivy-covered, stone-faced chateau with square cutouts at the top. I have a moment of feeling swept back in time, and hoping that dragons and men in kilts are right around some magical corner. We’ve made it halfway to the huge oval-topped wooden door when it opens and Katie and Mike appear, both looking quite twenty-first century. Katie is her normal elegant self with her long gray hair sleek and shiny, her dark blue pantsuit conservative. And Mike is quite distinguished, but it’s more his carriage than his Dockers and button-down.

Greetings of joy explode from the always-excitable Katie, and Chris and I are thoroughly hugged by both of them. I’m struck by how comfortable and right it feels. I’ve come to look at these two people as our family, and I realize now that I never felt such warmth with my own, not even from my mother. I adored her. I loved her, but there was always her need to please my father at all costs that made us dysfunctional.

“I have wine and cheese and an assortment of lunch meat and bread ready. You two must be hungry.” Katie points at Chris. “Don’t say you prefer beer. I need you to sample wine for the wedding.” She laces her arm through his and mine. “Now come. I’ve missed you both.”

Mike winks at me, opening the door, his thick gray hair fluttering in the wind. We step inside the chilled foyer with its high ceilings and concrete walls, and the same twenty-something pretty blonde we met last time greets us. “Can I take your coats?” she asks.

“We’ll keep them,” Chris replies. “We’ll want to walk out back and look at the wedding location.”

“Oh, good idea,” I say, and as we glance at the woman to thank her, it’s pretty obvious she’s admiring Chris, a fact that reddens her cheeks. I’m not surprised; he has that effect on women. And I know for a fact that he’s oblivious to nothing around him, her reaction included.

He’s quick to wrap his arm around me, a silent promise that her attention means nothing to him, but I don’t need that to feel comfortable or safe. I don’t even compare myself to her—feeling like the cute brunette while she’s the pretty blonde—as I had the last time I was here. And it’s not just because Chris and I have evolved since then. I’ve become stronger and more comfortable in my own skin, and it’s a realization I make with pride.

We follow Katie and Mike into the huge rectangular room we’d dined in my first night here, the centerpiece of which is a long wooden table spanning five feet. The table is set for four, with trays of cheese, meat, and bread in the center.

Chris and I shrug out of our jackets and claim one side of the table, while Mike and Katie perch opposite.

“I assume you two are staying the night?” Katie asks.

“Yes,” Chris confirms. “I never let go of the rental house we were in before Ava escaped.”

“But we’re headed back tomorrow to be sure the press doesn’t find us here,” I add. “We’d like to keep it peaceful for our wedding.”

A waiter fills our glasses with a wine selection as Mike asks, “Does that mean leaving the city again?”

I pick up my glass and smell the wine, as if I actually know what I’m doing with this tasting stuff.

“No,” Chris says. “We’re staying. We’re going to let them have at us and get it out of their system before we return here next month.”

“What do you think?” Katie asks, giving me an eager look.

“I think that if I drink before I eat something, I’ll end up sick,” I say, remembering the mistake the last time I was here that left me hanging over a toilet. “Perhaps I should stick to tea or water.”

Chris squeezes my leg, and I know he’s remembering the fight we’d had that night, too. It was emotional, but in many ways, it was growth for us. “That sounds like a good plan. We’ve barely eaten today.”

“Of course,” Katie agrees, alerting the waiter. “Should we have the chef whip up a meal?”

“No,” Chris says. “I want to take Sara to dinner at one of the local spots later tonight.”

“You’re welcome to join us,” I add, having talked about this with Chris in the car.

“We won’t interrupt your romantic night.” Katie speaks to the waiter before returning her attention to me. “I was hoping you’d stay in town until the wedding. But I have samples of items I need your opinions on today. Eat a little, and I’ll bring them out and show you. Most importantly, we have the cake flavors, but you haven’t picked a design.”

“Chris and I can’t wait to see the designs,” Mike jokes.

Katie smirks at him. “Just for that, you can go get the sample books.”

“I don’t have to be told twice.” Mike stands and motions to Chris. “Give them some girl time. I have some investments I want to talk to you about.”

Katie catches his arm. “Oh no. You sit. I’ll get someone else to get the samples. Tonight isn’t about investments.”

“This is time-sensitive,” Mike argues, sitting back down but not giving up. He eyes Chris. “A company named Maverick. Do you know them?”

“Yes,” Chris says. “Don’t do it.”

He launches into a conversation with Mike about why Maverick is a bad investment, and it’s a rare look into his business mind that I find intriguing. I’m spellbound, listening as they talk, asking a question here or there as I nibble on cheese and crackers.

At one point I glance up to find Katie staring at me with tenderness in her expression, and understanding. She hasn’t interrupted because she can see how much I’m enjoying watching the exchange, and I think she is, too. She views Chris as the son they never had, and I wonder why they didn’t have kids.

Finally the men’s stock talk wanes and we begin the wedding conversations, reviewing all of Katie’s plans and choosing the cake design. When we come to music, Chris says, “ ‘You and Me,’ by Lifehouse.”

I turn to him, remembering “Broken” by Lifehouse playing the first night we were together. From there to this. “It’s perfect. I love it.”

“Oh,” Katie says. “Changing the subject, before I forget. I don’t have an address for your father, Sara. I assume he’ll walk you down the aisle. I want to talk to him about the wedding plans.”

Still facing Chris, I squeeze my eyes shut, fighting a wave of nausea. I actually feel sick.

Chris runs his hand gently over my hair. “Sara’s father isn’t invited. And having dealt with the man, I can tell you, if I ever see him I’d probably end up in jail.”

“Oh,” Katie repeats, this time sounding shocked. “Well, we can’t have that on your wedding day.”