Chapter 13

As she packed her bags, Bernadette recognized that she was gutted to be leaving Aspen. Okay, so it wasn't just Aspen. It was the fact she was leaving behind the intimacy she'd been sharing with Tyson. Who knew if it would continue when they returned to Seattle. All of this might have just been a moment in time, and that notion troubled her.

Troubled her because the last thing she wanted, was for this to end.

They weren’t flying until later on that evening, but they’d decided to pack their things up now, so they could enjoy a bit of last minute sightseeing.

She’d be lying if she didn’t admit the whole prospect sounded a ton more phenomenal because through it all, she’d be able to hold his hand.

The thought made her feel like a pansy but screw it. She’d been waiting for this moment all her damn life.

Because Tyson Andrews wanted her.

Actually, wanted her, dammit.

She’d be a fool not to savor every moment of it. Every glorious minute that he wanted to be with her.

She’d overheard his argument with his ex two days ago. She knew they’d split, and knew that if anything, this was all probably on the rebound, but pathetic though it was, she was totally willing to ride the rebound wave because it meant she could ride him.

Chuckling at the wicked thought, she grabbed her bag and was totally unsurprised that Ty was still packing his shit together when she made it into the living room, and there was no sign of him.

He’d brought way more than her for their three-day break, and she was the chick here. Supposed to be the vain one? Yeah, right.

Snorting, she put the case by the door, and hollered, “Ty, I’m going down to the reception for a coffee. I’ll see you in the café, okay?”

“Sure, Birdie. I won’t be long. Another ten minutes or so.” He popped his head around the door and grinned at her. “Trust you to be packed already.”

She chuckled but rolled her eyes at him. She wanted to blow him a kiss but knew that wasn’t appropriate. Not yet. Maybe not ever.

Instead, she wriggled her fingers in a wimpy wave, and headed out the door.

The luxurious surroundings didn’t fall under her notice. She was rich, and accustomed to this kind of environment now, but that didn’t mean she failed to appreciate it. She wasn't spoiled.

Such luxury wasn’t something she needed to feel like a success, though. She’d been equally as happy eating at the dives Tyson had taken her too as she’d been in dining at some of the fanciest restaurants Aspen had to offer.

That was her, though.

Grafix had never been about the money. It had always been about her. Her drive to succeed. Her drive to take her designs out to the masses, because even though she was less hands-on now, the principle designs all came from her.

She had help now. Could brainstorm ideas, and some of her graphic technicians were whizzes with the latest programs where she was only decent, but her creative input was what made Grafix special.

It would be stupid of her to ever forget that. To forget her simple roots.

The reception was as swanky as the rest of the place. Ill-fitting too for the rustic environs of the skiing community.

A gleaming marble table took up one half of the wall, but it was softened from harshness with plush carpets, and comfortable leather seating areas that were clustered all over the massive cavernous space.

Nooks had been tapered off, complete with hearths, to add a more intimate note to the whole décor. A nook that she and Ty had taken advantage of yesterday.

God, she still couldn’t think about that without her cheeks blooming bright pink.

What had astonished more than her willingness to let him lead her down the rabbit hole into a public finger fucking, was the fact he hadn’t wanted a reciprocal hand job. Hadn’t dragged her off to the elevator and their suite.

Instead, they’d sat there, resting against one another, as they both got their breath back. And she’d peeked at his cock… he’d been hard.

As steel.

She’d have questioned why he was willing to be so generous, but the way they’d snuggled together afterward didn’t lean to any kind of suspicious afterthought.

He’d gifted her pleasure selflessly and without fuss.

Could the guy be any more perfect than she’d already thought him to be?

She headed for the coffee shop and took a seat in a banked seating area. Grabbing her cell, she checked her emails, ignoring the downhome style of the café which made an average coffee place look like a dump.

There was a goddamn chandelier in this place. A chandelier. In a coffee shop.

It boggled the mind.

“Are you ready to order, Ma’am?”

She barely looked up at the waiter, but shot him a frazzled smile and asked, “A Frappuccino, please.”

She could diet tomorrow. That had been her mantra for the duration of her stay here.

He smiled. “Anything else? Would you like to see our snack menu?”

They were going to eat out before their plane took off, so she shook her head, and the man took the hint and went for her order.

It was the first time she had checked her emails since Emily had called and told her that everything was fine, running perfectly without her presence. She'd decided to take advantage of Emily's competence to enjoy this time away with Tyson.

As a result, there were hundreds of messages to be dealt with. Some important, some less so, but all requiring the personal touch. As she was focusing on her emails, trying to create some kind of triage where she dealt with the most urgent ones first, someone slipped into the booth opposite her. Smiling, expecting it to be Tyson, she blinked in surprise at the woman she’d seen storm out of her suite the other morning.

Tyson’s ex.

“Excuse me?” Bernadette asked, uncertain of how to kickstart a conversation she didn’t want with a woman she didn’t know. But Karen, though she’d barged in, wasn’t trying to speak.

If anything, she was too busy glowering at her to do anything else.

She and Tyson hadn’t discussed his ex, but she’d heard enough from their argument - it had woken her up. There was no mistaking the fact that they were over, nor was there any hesitation in her mind that to Tyson it was over. It was why she'd felt comfortable leaping headfirst into this. Rebound or not, Ty knew his own mind.

“I should think you should be excusing yourself. You stole my boyfriend from me.”

Bernadette frowned. “I’ll assure you, I did not.”

“You came here with him on a dirty weekend. Admit it.” Karen shot back.

Bernadette’s confused frown turned into a scowl. “This was a business trip.”

“Bullshit. If it was a business trip, you wouldn’t have been sharing a suite. I know what your game is, but you’re the one who’s been played.”

Bernadette’s eyes widened. “I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about. He said he attracted crazy chicks, and it would seem he was right. God, girl, have some self-respect. Don't be blaming me for a mess of your own making.” She paused. “Maybe you’re the one who pushed him away… I mean, he traveled to Aspen on business, and you somehow manage to steal into our suite and sneak up on him?”

“Bunny boiler, much?” Bernadette fired, cattily, folding her arms across her chest.

Karen’s eyes flashed. “I was trying to surprise him. Be spontaneous.”

“More like stalk him,” scoffed Bernadette.

Karen let out a frustrated shriek, then slammed her hands down against the table. “You can make snide insinuations all you want, but Tyson will come back to me. He always does when he takes female clients off on these little jaunts.”

Before pain could swipe through her insides like a machete through a corn field, Bernadette told herself to toughen up.

This woman was a bitch. She screamed spoiled. From her beautifully coiffed hair, to the perfectly manicured nails, she was high maintenance with a capital H and M.

Karen wasn’t past lying to get what she wanted, Bernadette sensed that, and if she was still here after Ty had dumped her, had stayed in town while they’d been here too, then it was obvious Karen wasn’t willing to let Ty go without a fight.

“Look, I’m not interested in what you have to say,” Bernadette told the other woman in a bland voice.

“He told me all about you, you know? Took me a while to remember who you were, but it came back to me. You’re that fat bitch who used to hang around with him at school, aren’t you?” Karen said snidely. “With that dyke?”

Bernadette’s nostrils flared in outrage, because those details were too bang on the nose for Tyson never to have uttered them to this bitch.

“I’m not interested in the shit you’re trying to sell me, Karen. Why don’t you get out of here before you make more of a fool of yourself in front of Tyson than you already have in front of me.” She narrowed her eyes, then smirked. “I promise, I won’t tell him you came here. He’d probably think it was desperate, and I have to admit, it does reek a tad of desperation. Thought you had your claws into him, did you? Thought marriage was on the cards?” She shot the bitch a twisted smile. “Sorry to have burst your bubble.”

Karen jumped to her feet, and just when Bernadette felt sure the other woman would do a disappearing act, she managed to get in the last word. “If you don’t mind being fucked to seal the biggest deal of Tyson’s career, then who am I to try to warn you off him?”

“It’s always about the money with Tyson, and with you, all he sees are dollar signs when he looks at your fat ass.” Karen sneered at the Frappuccino the waiter served at that moment, before he did the disappearing act Bernadette wished Karen would do. “As if Tyson would ever fall for a fat bitch like you. Less carbs, darling, and you’d probably be passably attractive.”

“Get the hell out of here before I have you thrown out,” Bernadette snarled, tempted to toss the coffee over the bitch’s white designer dress.

“Oh, I’m out of here. Just remember, slut, he’s here on business. And one thing Tyson is great at, is selling fantasies to fat businesspeople.”

And with that, she stormed off, leaving Bernadette’s heart to shatter behind her.