Cover to Covers (29 page)

Following
a rather lengthy meeting with a verbose representative from Lawton, Tyler withdrew to a corner window on the fifth floor of the government office building and surveyed the active oil rigs that dotted the landscape about the vast state capital complex.

“You get what you needed from Stan?” a deep
, but winded voice asked beside him.

Tyler studied
the heavyset man with a baldhead, bright blue eyes, and pasty skin standing next to him. Sporting a custom-tailored, blue-pinstripe suit, snakeskin boots, and an array of gold rings, Hal Askew reeked of power, prestige, and a hell of a lot of Oklahoma oil money.

“He
guaranteed me that he would get everything out of committee by the end of the week,” Tyler informed him. “As long as we funneled some needed revenue to his district,” he mentioned with an arched eyebrow.

Representative Askew patted Tyler on the shoulder. “Yeah, Stan’s a real whore. Sorry about that.” Hal Askew went to the window and
briefly basked in the golden light from the late afternoon sun. “I told Gary we could handle everything without you having to fly up here, but I’m glad you did. Having the CEO of Propel here to argue his point means a lot to these legislators. Like anyone else, they want to look into someone’s eyes and ask questions, not hear it second hand from an old politician like me.”

“I want to thank you again for helping us.” Tyler
checked his watch, and for a second wondered what Monique was doing.

“You got plans for dinner?” Hal Askew
’s pushy voice derailed his thoughts.

“
Thanks, but I have a ton of work to catch up on. I’ll probably just eat in my hotel room.”

“You
’re welcome to join me and Emmie for dinner at our place. My wife loves to entertain. She’ll cook you a great down-home meal and talk your ear off.” Hal Askew chuckled lightly, making his round belly jiggle up and down. “Lord love her. I’ve been married twenty-five years to the woman and at times she drives me crazy, but I wouldn’t be where I am without her.”

“I’m sure she has been your most ardent supporter,” Tyler replied, not really interested in hearing about the representative’s wife.

“You should get yourself one of those.”

“One of what?” Tyler questioned, unsure of what he meant.

“A wife,” the large man boomed. “Get a good woman who keeps you grounded and supports everything you do. Who knows, you might even like what you do then, because if you ask me, son, you don’t like what you do now.”

Tyler covered his hand over his mouth, hiding his sneer. “I, ah, had two wives, and neither one of them made what I do worthwhile. In the end, my job has stuck by me, not my wives.”

“Then you married the wrong women, Tyler. A good woman marries you, not your money.” He waved his hand at the window in front of them. “I see all kinds here in the capital. A lot of those great-looking trophy wives on the arms of old men, like me. But those relationships seem rather sad and empty. Sure, it’s probably great for the ego, but I doubt it fulfills the soul. I learned a long time ago that it’s not about going to bed with a beautiful woman, it’s about waking up with a friend, because only a friend will stand by you when you’re old, fat, and ugly.” He patted his protruding gut. “I know my Emmie loves me for who I am, Hal Askew the son of a butcher from Tulsa. She could care less about representative Askew, and if everything turned to shit one day, she would still be standing there, right beside me. That’s real love, not the pretty, fake kind a lot of men my age end up with.”

“Well, I think my marriage days are behind me,” Tyler confided.

Hal Askew roared with laughter and the plain white-tiled hall surrounding them resonated with his mirth. “You definitely don’t have the poker face for politics.” He paused as his happy blue eyes scrutinized Tyler’s brooding features. “Gary told me you came here from New Orleans. Said he didn’t know if he could get you to leave the woman you went to see. He made it sound like she was something pretty special.”

Tyler’s cheeks uncharacteristically flushed with a combination of surprise and embarrassment. “My stepfather exaggerates,” he returned, playing it cool.

Hal grinned. “No, he didn’t. Just watching you today in all our meetings, I could tell you were somewhere else. Seeing your reaction now, I know exactly where your mind was.” He took a step back from the window. “I may be just a wily old politician, but let me give you a bit of advice. If she can bring color like that to your cheeks, then she is worth her weight in gold. The good ones make a man smile; the great ones make him blush.” 

Tyler pushed the toe of his black loafer against an imaginary spot on the white-tiled floor. “She is…well, things are complicated between us.”

Hal Askew slapped his back, making Tyler take a slight step forward. “Son, things are gonna get a whole lot more complicated, trust me. At least if she is by your side, you’ll be able to face whatever storms life blows your way.” His features sobered as he looked Tyler over once more. “If you change your mind about dinner, let me know.”

“I appreciate that, Hal.”

“When do you leave?”

“First thing in the morning, but I’m leaving Mitch Douglass behind to tie up any loose ends.” Tyler held out his hand. “I want to thank you again for all that you’ve done.”

“No problem, Tyler.” Hal shook his hand. “You keep in touch.”

Hal
Askew strutted away, appearing unusually light on his feet for such a heavyset man.

Tyler admired the man’s exuberant stride and then checked his watch
again. He needed to get to his hotel and call his secretary before he could catch up on e-mails and messages. His stomach rumbled with hunger after five cups of watered down coffee and one stale ham sandwich. A vision of sitting on the levee and eating fried shrimp po-boys with Monique snuck across his mind, making his stomach protest even louder. Determined not to let her eat away at him, Tyler filed away the thought of her tiny body and soulful gray eyes deep into some forgotten chasm of his heart.

As he
jogged down the front steps of the white limestone office building adjacent to the domed capital, Tyler became preoccupied with legal matters and projects that needed his immediate attention at Propel. But as his limousine driver opened the back door for him, Tyler spied the setting sun on the horizon and was reminded of how the sunlight had glistened in her hair that day in the French Quarter.

Disgusted, he
climbed into the rear of the car and slumped into the soft, black leather seat. When the limousine pulled on to the road, Tyler contemplated the decanter of bourbon set out on the small bar across from him. The burning that had tormented him in New Orleans was gone and he no longer craved the taste of alcohol on his lips. But now a different kind of need was consuming him, and he feared that there would be no cure for this addiction. What he really wanted, he could never have. He just wished he could figure out a way to stop wanting her before it tore him apart.

Chapter 2
2

His suite at the Colcord Hotel was smaller than he was accustomed to, but the luxurious furnishings, elegant decor, and view of the city skyline made up for the lack of space. After a quick shower to wash away the grime of the backroom deals he had made at the capital, Tyler donned his complimentary white robe, got comfortable on the king-sized bed with his iPad and cell phone, and switched the television in the black walnut cabinet before him to his favorite twenty-four hour news station. He was back in his element; staying in the best hotel Oklahoma City had to offer, and about to order a gourmet dinner from room service before spending the evening juggling his multi-million dollar company. He should have been content, but he was far from satisfied.

The room
was cold, the blaring news was disturbing, and the robe on his body was itchy and smelled of bleach. Before his trip to New Orleans, he had never minded such details, now he was overwhelmed by them. He yearned for the comfort of Monique’s warm home, the smell of coffee in her kitchen, the sound of her old creaking stairs; hell, he even missed Bart’s hideous mug.

Wiping his face in his hands, he fought
his longing to reach out to her, but eventually he realized it was pointless. Exasperated, he grabbed for his cell phone and found her number.

“Hey, you settled into your hotel yet?”
Her excited voice reverberated through the phone speaker.

“Yeah, I just got in, had a shower, and was about to get to a bunch of e
-mails and missed calls.”

“Well,
that sounds a lot more interesting than what I’m doing.”

He heard an odd splashing sound in the background.
“What is that noise?”

“I’m bathing Bart.”

He smiled, heartened by the image. “How is the ugly beast?”

“Don’t call him that. He’s self-conscious about his looks.”

The idea that Bart would care what anyone thought of his appearance made Tyler break out into a stint of hard belly laughing.

“
It’s not funny,” Monique implored. “He’s very sensitive.”

Tyler laughed even louder. By the time he regained his
composure, tears had welled up in his eyes. He could not remember when he had laughed with such exuberance, or who had ever made him feel comfortable enough to let go like that.

“Christ, I miss you,” he blurted without thinking. Taken off guard by his comment, he closed his eyes and silently
reprimanded his lack of self-control.

“I miss you, too. How long are you going to be in Oklahoma?”

“I leave tomorrow,” he affirmed, trying to sound businesslike again. “Then I fly back to Dallas for a bunch of meetings with our engineers on a major design problem we are having with some wells.”

“It never ends for you, does it?”

“No, I’m always in the middle of one crisis or another.” He wanted to tell her so many things, but refrained from offering too much.

“Well, as long as you are happy
, Ty.”

“I’m not sure if I’m ever going to be a one of those happy people.”

“Being happy is not a gift; it’s an innate ability that you have to fight to hold on to. It’s part of you. It’s the weld that holds your soul together. Ignoring it doesn’t make the yearning for it go away.”

He pictured her pink lips speaking those words. “You sound like a writer.”

“Yeah, I get that,” she added with an adorable giggle.

Wanting desperately to talk about something else
, he asked, “Any news on your new book? Has Chris changed his mind?”

“He won’t change his mind. He was pretty adamant. I’ve notified another publisher that I am shopping around for new representation. May take a few days to hear anything, but I’m hopeful.”

He heard more splashing. “So you’re going to leave Donovan Books.”

“Not leave, but not publish my new book with them. They still own the rights to my old books, and I can’t
cut them off completely.”

“Does Chris know you’re shopping for another publisher?”
Tyler thought of his last encounter with her overzealous manager. “He won’t like it, Moe.” 

“No,
he won’t, but I’m sure he’ll get wind of it soon enough. It’s a small business and news tends to spread quickly.”

“What are you going to do when he finds out?”

She was very quiet for a moment and then admitted, “Not answer the door.”

Tyler wanted to
tender his concerns, but then thought better of it. “Well, I’m sure you’ll figure it out.”

Bart’s heavy breathing
began in the background. “Do you know when you’ll be passing my way again?”

Tyler’s mind raced with plausible excuses.
“I’ve got a lot on my plate for the next few days.” He strained to keep the emotion from his voice. “Until I get this Oklahoma business straightened out, I’ll be stuck in Dallas.”

Silence. The effect was devastating for him. He wanted to soften the blow by offering hope for a future meeting, but that would be delaying the inevitable. Why was he doing this? But he already knew the answer. Once
Monique discovered the real Tyler Moore, she would walk away, and the thought of that sickened him.

“Yeah, things are
kind of out of hand for you right now.” He could hear the veil of disappointment shadowing her words. “I guess you will let me know when you can fit me in.”

His restraint floundered. “Moe, I want to be with you, but…you just have to be patient.”

“Patient? I think I have to be a hell of a lot more than that.” She paused, and the knot in Tyler’s chest twisted tighter. “I found the half-empty bottle of bourbon in the pantry this afternoon. I’m not a fool, Ty. I know you were drinking when I wasn’t looking. What made you feel like you needed a drink after so many years of sobriety?”

His
irritation stirred at her accusatory tone. “Moe, let’s not get into this right now.”

“You know
, in all of those books I wrote, none of my male characters ever had your fear. I left that out, thinking it had been an exaggeration of what I remembered about you, but now I know it wasn’t. You drank twenty-one years ago because you were afraid of being what everyone wanted you to be…responsible, grown-up, and productive. Now you’re afraid of me, and what I could do to your well-ordered life. That’s it, isn’t it?”