Chapter 22

 

Connor

 

The next few weeks are filled with texting and phone calls and not enough time seeing one another. I did spend the weekend with her in San Francisco, where I got to meet her boss and coworkers, see her small but homey condo, and go to her favorite places (this girl is in love with Philly cheesesteak). Last weekend, I flew her down. I took her on the zip line, which she loved, and we had dinner with my family. Corrine’s out of school now, so she was there too. They all love Whitney.

I think I love her too.

In fact, I’m pretty damn fucking sure I am crazy in love with that woman.

The best part, as Whitney says, is that now our goodbyes are temporary.

The worst part is I still can’t seem to officially commit to staying. Even though my family sees what’s happening with Whitney and think I ought to have some sort of answer, when they ask if I’ve made a decision, the words that come out of my mouth are still, “I don’t know.”

They’re frustrated with me.

I’m frustrated with me.

Even though I’ve made the decision in my head, and even though I’ve told Whitney I’m staying, when it comes time to tell my siblings and make it official, I can’t spit the words out.

It’s made my relationship with Rayce even more fun. He’s been in rare form the last few days. The fact that Rita Becker recently ran a column accusing him of having illicit affairs with multiple lower-level staff members didn’t help matters. She had neither names nor photos to back up her claims. It’s just more trash, clearly, but it pissed Rayce off anyway. Put all that together, and that means I’m still his favorite target.

Corrine and I have joked around that I need to keep a tranquilizer gun in my desk so I’ll be prepared the next time he comes barging into my office on the warpath.

I’m currently wrapping up a meeting with Lizzy and two of our managers. We’ve been discussing a couple upcoming, high-profile weddings that will be taking advantage of the full offerings here at the resort, and have things more or less under control. As we all clear out of the Event Planning Conference room, though, our Events Manager, Renee, asks if she can speak with me privately.

Lizzy gives me a questioning look—she’s Renee’s immediate supervisor, not me—but I don’t know what this is about either. As I shut the door and sit back down at the table, Renee starts fidgeting with the file folders in front of her. My curiosity is piqued even more. “What’s up?”

“There’s something I wanted to bring to your attention.” She takes a deep breath.

“All right.”

“It’s… maybe not my business, but…” She stops again, furrowing her brows. “Did you see the article about Mr. Rivers? About the, um, affairs?”

Oh, is that all this is about?

“Just gossip,” I say. “If Rita Becker doesn’t have anything good to report, she’ll just make stuff up.”

She nods slowly, still hesitant. “Well… I don’t know. I… saw something I thought you should be aware of.”

The skin on the back of my neck starts to crawl. “All right,” I say steadily.

“The other day I saw Mr. Rivers and one of my employees coming out of the Redwood Room. It wasn’t being used or scheduled for anything, so there was no reason for her to be in there. They…” she hesitates and my skin is crawling everywhere. “They kind of gave each other a look and she was straightening her skirt and they left in different directions.”

“What kind of look?” I ask, even though I don’t want to know.

“Well… I don’t know. I’m not accusing anybody of anything. I don’t know why they were in there.”

“I understand.”

“It just… seemed off. They did look at each other like… like maybe something was going on in there.”

I take a deep breath and sit back in my chair. “I see.”

“I’m not saying anything happened. I just… I don’t know. I’ve been thinking about it and then I saw that article in the Voice and I thought you should know.”

“Who was the employee?”

“Her name is Taylor Norell. She mainly does set up and such.”

“Did you ask her about it?”

“No. I didn’t know if I should.”

I take another deep breath. “All right. Thank you for telling me. Is there anything else I need to know?”

She hesitates.

God. What else?

“Well…” she begins. “You should know I overheard a couple people in the break room speculating about this. I didn’t believe it and put an end to things pretty quickly. I have zero patience for gossip. And I didn’t think he would do anything like that.”

“But now you’re not so sure?”

She gives me a pained, apologetic expression. “It’s not for me to say. I just wanted to tell you what I saw. Maybe it was just an innocent thing. It… doesn’t seem like the kind of thing Mr. Rivers would do. I have a lot of respect for him. For all of you. I really admire the way you’ve all kept this place running. Your parents would be proud.”

I give her a small smile at the compliment, but I’m feeling the weight of everything she’s just told me. “Thank you, Renee. Do you have anything else to tell me?”

She shakes her head. “No. And I don’t need to know anything more about this.” She holds her hands up. “I wanted to tell you and now I have. I’m not going to give it any more thought.”

I thank her again and head back to the administrative offices, my thoughts heavy and my blood running cold. Even though it didn’t exactly prove anything, I feel uneasy about what Renee saw. But Rayce wouldn’t do something like that. Would he?

I enter the offices not knowing what I’m going to do until I’m doing it. Rayce is sitting behind his desk, writing something on a small pad by his computer. I go in, shut the door behind me, and approach his desk.

When he stops writing and looks at me, I look at him more closely than I have in a while. The truth is, something has been different not just with our relationship but with Rayce. I don’t know what, and I don’t know why, but something is different.

I still don’t think he would do this, though.

“I have a question for you,” I say quietly. There’s no animosity in my voice (the way there so often is these days, if I’m honest with myself). Right now, I’m putting everything else aside. I have a real question, and I need a real answer. I think Rayce senses it, because he puts his pen down, knits his brows at me, and leans back in his chair.

“Okay,” he says. Also without animosity.

“That column of Rita Becker’s.”

His expression immediately goes hard. “Jesus, Connor. You should know better.”

“Are you having a relationship with a Taylor Norell?”

He freezes, holding my eyes. He looks uncomfortable.

“You shouldn’t listen to rumors.” He picks up his pen, then puts it back down. I’m still standing here, watching him. I don’t want to believe it, but I don’t like what Renee saw. And I don’t like how he’s acting. I don’t like that he didn’t really answer my question. I don’t like any of this.

Yet, I can’t see my brother doing something like this. I just can’t.

He sees me watching him and lets out an exasperated sigh. “Oh come on, Connor.” He turns back to his computer, mouse clicking.

Again, no denial. Heart pounding harder than I’d like, I say quietly, “Tell me it’s not true, and I’ll believe you.”

Rayce looks at me then. He just looks at me, and I think he’s going to admit it. God, he looks like he’s going to say, ‘Yes, I’m having an affair.’

But in a calm and sober voice he says, “It’s not true.” Then he gets up, and quietly leaves.

I’m left standing there, knowing the truth.