All She Ever Wanted (9 page)

He hesitated, then waved her forward. "All right. After you."

She didn't quite trust his sudden acquiescence, but she decided not to question it. More time with Dylan could only work in her favor. She had to get to know him again, figure out what he wanted, so she could get what she wanted.

"We can start here." Dylan opened one of the doors leading off the reception area and ushered her into a room that looked like something out of a futuristic science-fiction movie. There were computer screens, platforms, and several enclosed booths in the laboratory-like room. "This is our virtual-reality room. You can have any adventure you want."

She sent him a doubtful look. "I've never been big on video games."

"These aren't video games. We've created worlds for you to explore and participate in. You will feel like you're really in the event that's happening, whether it's at King Arthur's court or the White House or the Taj Mahal. We combine video with digital pictures that we've created from history books and old films."

"That sounds like a lot of work."

"I've spent the last ten years creating a digital library that is incomparable."

It sounded like he'd been doing more than pulling rabbits out of hats, she had to admit. Still ... "I can't imagine being swept away just by looking at a screen," she said. "I could never forget where I was. It must be like watching a movie."

"You'd be surprised. The mind is very powerful, but it can be manipulated with music, images, memories, sounds, and actions."

"So if I stand on that platform, and you rock it, I'm actually going to believe I'm taking off into space?"

"Absolutely," he said with an arrogance that annoyed as well as excited her.

She did love a confident man, especially in bed, but there was a fine line between confidence and arrogance, and she doubted Dylan could walk that line.

"I can probably get you to believe just about anything is real," he added.

"You sound awfully sure of yourself."

"I'm very good."

"Now I remember why I never liked you."

"That's not the way I remember it." His eyes dared her to challenge him on that statement, but unfortunately a vivid and embarrassing memory of throwing herself at him one night still burned bright in her mind.

"I doubt you remember things the way they really were," she said. "Everyone has their own version of the truth." She looked around the room. "So what next?"

"Why don't you try one of our adventures, see if it's something you want to help me promote."

"I'm not sure virtual reality is exactly what would work for our event." She couldn't imagine these contraptions being effective at a masquerade party.

"Then we'll say good-bye." He turned toward the door.

"Wait. I'll give it a try. I'm sure it's fun." And she wasn't ready to walk out of here yet. She needed time to think of just how his technological magic could work at a high-society party. There had to be a way. Maybe she could set up a special-event area ...

Dylan led her to one of the booths. "Have a seat there. Put on the goggles and headphones and just sit back." He paused, sending her a thoughtful look. "I have a special treat for you."

"What is it?"

"You'll see." He drew the curtain around her, leaving her in darkness. She put on the goggles and was completely blinded. The headphones cut out the noise, and she suddenly felt very isolated and unsteady, as if she couldn't quite find her balance or her bearings.

She was startled when music came blaring through the headphones. She was even more surprised to hear Gloria Gaynor singing "I Will Survive," one of their favorite songs in college. Emily had played it every time one of them had had a bad date or a boyfriend fell through. They must have played it a hundred times. Emily had been one of those girls who loved to play a favorite song over and over again until you wanted to pull your hair out. Whenever they'd complained, Emily had laughed and said she was building memories. She'd told them that someday, thirty years from now, they'd be driving along in a car, maybe with their kids, and the song would come on the radio, and they'd remember the good old days, their friendship, and they'd smile.

Madison didn't feel like smiling. She felt like crying, and she never cried. But, dammit, why hadn't Emily lived another ten or thirty years? Why hadn't she had the opportunity to hear those old songs and remember the good old days?

The screens in front of her eyes suddenly lit up. She jerked at the familiar sight of the two-story sorority house in Santa Cruz where they'd pledged and lived—and where Emily had died. Was her mind playing tricks on her? What was this?

She wanted to look away, but she couldn't.

The front door to the sorority house opened, and a group of girls came out—girls who looked a lot like Laura, Natalie, and Emily. It was them, she realized, dressed in fashions at least ten years old.

Where was she? Why wasn't she with them? Her heart stopped as Emily came forward—Emily with the laughing dark eyes, the brown hair blowing in the breeze, the infectious smile on her lips that had always made Madison want to smile, too—an Emily who was still alive, still happy, still filled with hope for their futures.

She was so close, Madison wanted to reach out and touch her, grab her hand and hold on for dear life.

Emily suddenly wagged a finger at her. "You are so bad. Stop it right now."

Madison gasped. Was Emily talking to her? God! She couldn't take it. Yanking off the headphones and goggles, she burst out of the booth to find Dylan waiting for her with a cool, calculating smile.

"What the hell was that?" she demanded, shaken to the core.

"That was Emily. Isn't that why you came here, Madison? To talk about Emily?"

Madison stared at Dylan in bewilderment. She saw anger in his eyes and a gleam of satisfaction. He'd wanted to knock her off her feet, and he'd done a damn good job of it. "Where did you get that film?"

"I took it—a long time ago."

"I don't remember you filming us."

"You weren't there that day."

That's why she hadn't been in the clip, just the other three girls. Which meant Emily had not been talking to her; she'd been talking to Dylan, telling him to stop taking her picture. That made sense. What didn't make sense was why Dylan would still have that film clip or be using it in some virtual-reality game. "You use Emily's picture, her voice, her words in your games? How can you do that? You were her friend. Are you completely sick?"

His dark eyes flared with anger. "I don't use that clip in the games. I just have it on my computer along with every other piece of film I've ever shot. I thought you might enjoy seeing your old friends, take a trip to the past."

She didn't believe him for a second. "You didn't think that at all. You wanted to shock me. Why?"

"Because you came here acting like the spoiled brat you always were. You left, Madison. Before the funeral. And now you come back like nothing ever happened. Like we're just two people who knew each other once. I think you're the one who's sick."

So he resented her leaving before Emily's funeral. At least she had one of the answers she had come for. If Dylan felt this way, Cole probably did, too, as well as his parents. She wanted to turn and run out the door and forget this stupid idea, but something inside her decided to fight back. "That was my parents' decision, not mine. They came and got me and took me straight to the airport. I was nineteen years old. I had no money of my own. What was I supposed to do? I didn't have a choice, Dylan. You can believe it or not. I don't really give a damn."

"And you didn't come here today to talk about Emily? About the book that's been written about her?"

"You know about that?" She shot him a questioning look, although she wasn't completely surprised. Despite his bad-boy aura, the motorcycle, and the dark magic, Dylan had always been into books. Reading was something he and Emily had in common. They were always passing books back and forth to each other. Madison had never paid much attention. She'd been more interested in fashion and entertainment magazines.

"Of course I know about the book." Dylan crossed his arms, leaning back against a console. "Do you know who wrote it?"

"That's a good question," a woman said from behind her.

Madison's breath stalled in her chest at the sound of that familiar voice. Natalie! Was her mind playing tricks on her again, or was Natalie really here? Madison wished now that she had left when she had the chance. She'd imagined seeing Natalie a million times in her mind but not like this, never like this.

Natalie held her breath, waiting for Madison's answer. The last person she'd expected to find in Dylan's club was Madison. Her mind raced with a million questions. Were Dylan and Madison together now? Was Madison the one who had given Garrett Malone the personal information used in the book?

Madison slowly turned around. She was stunning, Natalie thought. Madison's beautiful face was picture perfect, her blue eyes framed by long, dark lashes and sculpted eyebrows. Her cheeks were tinged with pink, her lips a daring cherry red.

"Well, isn't this a surprise?" Madison drawled.

"You can say that again," Cole muttered. "What the hell is going on here, Dylan? You and Madison?"

Dylan threw up his hands. "Hey, she showed up fifteen minutes ago out of the blue. And I'd like to ask you the same question. You and Natalie?"

"I was wondering about that, too," Madison said.

"We're together because of the book, as apparently the two of you are," Natalie replied, not wanting to get into any long explanations. "Do either of you know who the author is or how he got the information about us?"

"I'm surprised you'd even ask me that," Madison said. "Do you seriously think that if I had created this story, I would have made you the villain, Natalie? Please, you wouldn't have had the gumption to push a cat off that roof much less your best friend. You hated to see anyone in pain."

Natalie felt a wave of relief at her words. "Thank God someone believes that." She glanced at Dylan and saw only anger in his eyes. Apparently, he didn't feel the same way. "Do you have something to say?"

He shrugged. "She knew you better than I did."

"Yes, she did."

As Natalie finished speaking, the outer door opened and three teenagers entered. A club employee followed them, helping them to choose their virtual-reality adventures. Dylan waved his hand toward the door, muttering, "Let's take this somewhere else."

That somewhere else was his office, a small cluttered room filled with one desk, two chairs, several filing cabinets, piles of papers everywhere and assorted odd items that Natalie hoped were being used in his magic acts. Otherwise, Dylan had a very kinky side to him. Heck, maybe he did have a kinky side. He'd always been into odd, dark stuff. Natalie had certainly never known what to talk to him about. She'd yet to meet a man who'd made her feel as uncomfortable and awkward as Dylan had. But Emily and Dylan had been very close. He must have been devastated by her death.

Madison picked up a long, twelve-inch feather and held it up. "What's this for? And can I be your assistant when you use it?"

Dylan shot Madison an irritated look, grabbed the feather from her hand, and tossed it onto a pile of hats. For a long minute the four of them simply stared at each other. Natalie didn't know where to start. No one else seemed to know, either. She barely knew Dylan. Cole barely knew Madison. There was no place to begin the conversation. Fortunately, one of the employees came looking for Dylan to solve a problem in the virtual-reality room. Dylan took off with a muttered, insincere apology, and Cole quickly followed, claiming he had something to take care of. Natalie suspected he just wanted to get away from them and talk to Dylan on his own. Which was fine with her.

Pushing a stack of papers to one side of Dylan's desk, Natalie leaned against it, crossing her arms as she took another long look at Madison. "So, where have you been all these years, Maddie? I thought of you in Paris, London, Madrid ... but I have to admit I never thought of you here in San Francisco, with Dylan of all people."

Madison smiled and flipped her hair over her shoulder as she'd done a thousand times before. "I could say the same about you—and Cole. But as for me, I've been here, there, and everywhere, most recently New York. I moved here three months ago because of my job in public relations."

Natalie nodded, not surprised to find out Madison was in PR. She'd always been a good promoter, and she could spin with the best of them.

"Your turn," Madison said. "Wait." She held up a hand. "Let me guess. You're a doctor. You came to San Francisco because you fell in love with the city years ago and because Cole is here."

"Half-right. I am a doctor, but I didn't come here for Cole. And we're not together in any emotional sense of the word." Natalie sighed. "It's all about this damn book. It's been a crazy few days, Madison. Every time I turn around, I see someone I haven't seen in years. And we all want to know the same thing—who is Garrett Malone and how does he know us?"

"Maybe Laura knows."

"I've already spoken to her, and she doesn't. She married Drew McKinney, by the way. Can you believe that?"

Madison raised an eyebrow. "Laura and Drew ended up together? She must have gotten a lot better in bed."

Natalie shook her head in amazement. Madison was as outspoken as ever. "I can't believe you just said that."

"Oh, come on, Natalie. Drew was a player. And Laura was scared of sex. She had to drink three vodka tonics before she let Drew take off her top."

"That was a long time ago. We were all finding our way back then."

"True." Madison walked over to the bookcase. She picked up a photograph of Dylan, bare- chested, in black leather pants, holding a whip and standing next to an awesome-looking tiger. "Now, this is a man." She blew out a breath. "Too bad he hates me. I left before Em's funeral. I let her down. That's what Dylan thinks." She glanced at Natalie. "Do you feel the same way?"

Despite her light tone, Natalie had a feeling her answer mattered to Madison. "We all did what we had to do. I transferred to another school. Laura made new friends and stuck it out in Santa Cruz. It doesn't matter now anyway. We've all moved on."

"Yet here we are together. What goes around comes around."

"Because of Emily. She's not even here anymore, and she's bringing us all together, the way she always did. I can almost feel her presence in this room. It's weird."

"Not so weird," Madison said. "Before you came I was trying out one of Dylan's virtual-reality games, and he decided to play a video for me of Emily, you, and Laura. Emily walked right up to the camera and started talking. For a moment I thought she was speaking to me. It was strange and very creepy. I'm sure Dylan played it just to shock me."

Natalie frowned at that piece of information. "Why would Dylan have a videotape of Em here at the club?"

"He said he built a video library of every piece of film he's ever shot, including photos and movies he took in Santa Cruz. He uses them in his virtual-reality games. It's obvious he's still hung up on Emily."

"Hung up on her? I thought they were just friends." She didn't like the knowing smile that crossed Madison's lips. "Weren't they just friends?"

"You spent way too much time studying, Natalie."

"Dylan and Emily? You can't be serious."

"Why not? Emily wasn't a saint. She was a normal college girl who wanted to experience life in all sorts of ways."

Natalie stared at Madison in confusion, not sure what point she was making. "Are you talking about sex?"

"Of course I'm talking about sex," she said in exasperation. "Emily really didn't tell you? That does surprise me. I thought you two were really tight."

"Tell me what? I thought she was still a virgin. Are you saying that she was having sex with Dylan?" Natalie racked her brain trying to remember if Emily had said anything about Dylan in the days before she died, but it struck her now that in those few weeks before Emily's death, they hadn't shared much. There had been a distance between them, a distance created by Natalie's relationship with Cole.

"I can't say," Madison replied.

"Can't or won't?"

"Look, Emily's secrets should have died with her."

"But they didn't. And if you know something ..."

"The only thing I know for sure is that we all had secrets."

"We didn't. We talked all the time."

"Not always about the important things. For instance, I never knew if you slept with Cole. Did you?"

Natalie was taken aback by Madison's question. It took her a moment to realize that was the intent. "Oh, no you don't. You don't get to change the subject that easily. We're discussing Emily's sex life, not mine." Natalie watched as Madison took a cigarette out of a sleek silver container and lit it. "You're still smoking? That thing will kill you."

"I've never been able to quit."

"You should try harder."

"Why do you care?" Madison asked, a curious expression on her face.

Why did she care? She hadn't seen Madison in a decade. But old habits died hard. At one time in her life Natalie had cared very much about this woman. And despite Madison's hard edge, she'd always needed someone to care. Emily had seen that need first; she'd seen all their needs first. Emily had told Natalie that Madison took their friendship more seriously than anyone, she just couldn't admit it. Had Emily been right? Or was that just her idealistic view of their relationship?

"Oh, fine," Madison said, stubbing out her cigarette on a nearby ashtray. "It's out. Are you happy now?"

"Yes. Now about Emily," Natalie continued.

"I can't say, Natalie. Can't, not won't. I know there was someone in Emily's life, someone for whom we bought condoms one day."

"You bought condoms with Emily?"

"She was too embarrassed to do it by herself."

"And you didn't ask her why she needed them?"

"I knew why she needed them. She was going to have sex. I had my suspicions about who that someone was, but no real proof."

"I can't believe Emily wouldn't have told me she was planning to have sex. I thought we were so close."

"She knew I wouldn't judge her."

"And I would?" Natalie pressed a hand to her head, feeling the beginning of a bad headache.

"Of course you would. You were always trying to protect her."

"I did a terrible job in the end."

"Emily made her own choices."

"Not the choice to fall off the roof. That was a tragic accident."

"Probably."

Natalie didn't like the doubt in her answer. "Probably? You just said you didn't think I had anything to do with it."

"I didn't say it wasn't someone else. I always thought it was a bit odd for her to just fall like that." Madison glanced down at her watch. "Damn, I have to go. I have an appointment." She turned to leave, then paused. "You should watch your back, Natalie. Someone doesn't like you, and that someone went to a lot of trouble to make you look bad. Who knows what else they have in mind?"

"Natalie Bishop? Are you out of your fucking mind?" Dylan asked, as he handed Cole a beer from behind the bar. After fixing the technical glitch in the virtual-reality room, Dylan and Cole had moved into the main nightclub, which was currently empty.

"Probably." Cole took a sip of his beer. "However, Natalie is involved in all this, and I can't let her go until I get to the bottom of it." He didn't like the knowing glint in Dylan's eyes. "What? You think I still like her?"

"She's the only woman who ever got under your skin."

"That's not true." But as Cole took another swig of his beer, he silently admitted that he couldn't think of another woman who'd made him so crazy and so happy at the same time.

"Maybe you don't want to let go of her now that you've found her again," Dylan suggested, a speculative gleam in his eyes.

"It's just about the book. That's the only reason we're together. She knows more than I do about what went down that night."

"I thought she couldn't remember anything. Has that changed?"

"No, but she knows what happened the day before and the day before that. I have to start somewhere."

"I wouldn't trust a word she says. You should stay away from her. She's bad news."

"You think Natalie had something to do with Em's death?" He couldn't bring himself to say the word murder. "Why?"

"She used Emily to get to you, and when that didn't work, she got pissed off."

"Why would you think she was using Emily to get to me?" Cole asked, confused. "They were friends before I came along."

"Emily told me that she wished the two of you had never hooked up. She was caught in the middle, torn between the two of you."

Cole felt his stomach turn over. "You never said that before, and Emily never told me that."

"I didn't say anything because you were already beating yourself up about not getting to the party earlier. And Em probably didn't want to hurt your feelings."

Cole had never really considered Emily's thoughts about his relationship with Natalie. He realized now that they'd never talked much about it. In the three months before Emily's death, he'd been splitting time between San Francisco, where he was supposed to be working for the family paper, Washington D.C., where he'd actually been hustling a news connection that would land him a job with CNN overseas, and lastly Santa Cruz. When he was in Santa Cruz, he'd spent all his time with Natalie. Conversations with Emily had been sparse and never touched beyond the surface. She'd seemed happy enough, and he hadn't pressed for any more information than what came with her smile. Now he wished he'd done more talking. Actually, he wished he'd done more listening.

"I never meant to put Emily in the middle," he muttered.

"She wasn't mad at you," Dylan said. "She was angry with Natalie. She wanted her to let go and move on. You'd made it clear to Natalie it was over. She was the one who wouldn't take no for an answer—from either of you. She kept pushing Emily to intervene. Who knows what she would have done in desperation?"

Cole couldn't quite see the picture Dylan was painting, maybe because he knew the other side of the story. He hadn't made it clear to Natalie that it was over. He'd been vague, stalling, not sure what he wanted to happen. She'd overwhelmed him with feelings he hadn't wanted to feel. He'd had plans to travel, to work abroad. Falling in love had not been part of those plans.

"Putting aside Natalie and Emily," Cole said, trying to refocus his thoughts, "what's your take on this book?"