Chapter 16

The pain hadn’t dispersed, but maybe it never would. Maybe Bernadette was cursed to be dealing with Ty’s treachery forever.

It wasn’t his fault he’d fallen from his Ivory Tower, the one she’d placed him on, and one he never asked to be put on, but it made his tumble from grace all the harder for her to handle.

Nothing was the same anymore, she realized, and though it might have seemed melodramatic, Bernadette knew the issue stemmed from more than just the situation with Tyson. But from a complete and utter discontent with her life.

She was tired of working twenty-hour days. Of living in her office, and of still having her home unpacked, with more boxes dotted around than furniture.

She was tired of her staff being scared of her, of constantly dieting, of not being happy with herself.

These were issues that had reared their head since Ty had made an appearance in her life. They weren’t his fault, but they were the reason why she was thinking about making changes.

She just wasn’t sure how to go about implementing those changes.

Bernadette had always been hands on. Right from the very beginning. That personal touch was why she’d scored major contracts, and why, years after gaining the biggest tech company around, they were still happy with Grafix, still happy to outsource the designs with her company rather than have them created in-house.

That alone was telling.

If she took a step back, if she stopped being so ‘there’ all the time when it came to her work, would things fall apart?

Emily already had her hands full. It wasn’t like Bernadette could pass on the workload to her, and she wasn’t sure if she trusted anyone else to manage upper level issues.

Rubbing her forehead, she ceased staring out onto the Seattle skyline ahead of her and turned her attention back onto the boardroom. As had been the case during the past week, her thoughts rarely ran on current business topics, but on the state of her life.

The gray drizzle was still evident behind the heads of the directors of a new company interested in working with her, and she was grateful Emily and her head of Marketing were taking the lion's share of the talking here.

The potential clients kept on looking at her, like they were waiting on her to leap in with some miraculous new idea or concept, but that wasn’t going to happen. Not today. Maybe not for a few days longer.

That buzz of energy that had appeared on her first day in Aspen, that desire to create, to paint Tyson against the mountainous backdrop, had died a death. It usually did when she was feeling depressed, and she hadn't felt this depressed since her grandfather's death years ago.

It was with relief that the meeting finished up an hour later, and as she shook hands with a strained smile, she was glad to move from the boardroom to her office where she stored a large bottle of Ibuprofen.

The ache at her temples had been getting worse all day, and now, it was a dull pounding that had shadows crossing over her eyes.

“You’ve got a migraine coming on.”

Emily’s blank-toned statement had her grimacing. “Why can’t I be a lesbian?” she asked to no one in particular.

Em snorted. “Why? Want me to be your wife?”

“Yeah. You know me better than most spouses know their partners. It would be a damn sight easier if we were together like that.”

Emily grinned. “I’d drive you nuts, and you know it.”

Bernadette huffed. “Is that you letting me down gently?”

Laughter snorted from her best friend as she snatched the Ibuprofen from Bernadette’s hands, and, as she usually succeeded where Bernadette failed, managed to open the child safety catch.

“How many?” she asked.

“Four.”

“Definitely a migraine. You should go home.”

She sighed. “I guess. My heart’s not in it today, anyway.”

“You need to rest. You’ve been working yourself too hard since Aspen.”

“Thought that was the point of RnR… it meant you were ready and raring to go after you returned home.”

Emily rolled her eyes. “There’s ready and raring, then there’s what you’ve been doing.” She watched as Bernadette sank the pills back, then commented, “Wait ten minutes. I’ll have a car come pick you up.”

“I’d prefer to take a taxi.”

“How many times? You know it’s me Rodriguez bitches at when you don’t follow safety protocol.”

“You love it when she bitches at you,” Bernadette immediately countered. “Why don’t you just ask her out? Then maybe she’d soften up and cut me some slack.”

“If she did, then I’d dump her ass. I hired that team because they came with great recommendations. They’d be pretty shit if I could make them ease up on you because I was fucking the team leader.”

Bernadette pursed her lips in irritation, then, a notion came to her that had a twinkle appearing in her eye. “You do want her though, don’t you? Em and Rodriguez,” she sang tauntingly, "K. I. S. S. I. N. G."

Emily rolled her eyes, reached for her cell, and began tapping out a message. “There. Ten minutes, Brat,” she told her, “And it’s not all about sex.”

“Since when?” Bernadette scoffed. “You’ve had more action this year than I’ve had all my life.”

Em’s nose scooted into the air. “I think I’m offended.”

Bernadette chuckled. “Don’t be. I’m jealous.”

Emily’s gaze softened. “Things will work out, Birdie,” she told her quietly, stepping forward so she could wrap an arm around her.

Bernadette sighed into the hug and pressed her forehead to Emily’s shoulder. “I’m tired,” she whispered.

“I know.” A gentle hand came up to stroke the back of her head, then her hand traipsed down to rub at the tense muscles at the back of her neck. “When you get home, turn off your phone, and get some rest, okay? Just sleep. Don’t come in until you’re ready. You’ll feel heaps better if you do.”

A message buzzed on her cell, and though she kept her arms around Bernadette, Em burrowed into her pocket and peered at the screen over her shoulder.

“Car’s here.”

Bernadette sighed. “That was fast. I’ll go then.”

Emily kissed her temple. “Have something to eat too. Get them to stop off at a… I don’t know. Somewhere healthy. You’ve not been eating these last couple of days, Birdie,” she chided. "If this is some stupid new diet, and not just because of Tyson, you know how angry I'll be!"

“I haven’t been hungry.”

Emily grumbled, then frowned in concern. “I’ve never seen you like this before.”

“I’ve never felt like it before,” she confided, feeling defeated.

Emily shook her head. “Go. Eat, and sleep. I’ll get some sushi ordered and have it taken to your place. I don’t trust you to stop off somewhere.”

Bernadette rolled her eyes. “Yes, mom.”

Emily snorted but shooed her off.

As Bernadette strode out of her office and toward the elevator, she was aware a hush came over the cubicles on the floor.

She didn’t believe in having separate floors for different sections, preferring to have the upper ranks right where she could see them.

As a result, she saw those upper ranks avoid her gaze. Something that was probably helped by her avoiding theirs too.

She’d been harder than usual this week. Making more demands than normal.

Sex was supposed to relieve tension, wasn’t it? A vacation too! Apparently, her body had missed that particular memo.

With a sigh, she stepped into the elevator and let it sweep her down to the ground floor.

Heading out of the building, she saw her car, then came to an abrupt halt when she saw Tyson leaning against it.

“What are you doing here?” she demanded, totally unprepared for the sight of him.

He looked… tired.

Gorgeous, but tired. As defeated as she felt.

A realization that had her mouth working in astonishment.

“I had to talk to you, Birdie,” he stated, his jaw firming as she began to shake her head.

“Not now, Tyson.”

“Yes, dammit. Now. You’ve been avoiding me for almost a week. It’s time we cleared the air.”

She shut her eyes. “I didn’t mean that. I mean, I’ve got a migraine. I don't think I can talk about everything now.” Almost like the words were a catalyst, they had her knees buckling.

Before she could hit the floor though, Tyson was there. He swept her up into his arms before her security could even think about catching her, and barked, “Open the damn door.”

Weakly, she leaned into him, letting him absorb her weight. It was a testament to the sudden pounding in her skull that she wasn’t even scared he’d break his back from her weight.

When he shuffled her into the car, she blew out a relieved breath to be out of the bright afternoon light.

The windows in her office were shaded and being hit by the brightness of the day as well as the sight of Tyson and his deshabille in old jeans and a sweater, had just been too much for her.

“What’s going on, Birdie?” he demanded.

“I-I have a migraine.”

“Your legs normally give out when you have a migraine?”

She shook her head “I don’t normally get them. But it’s been a bitch of a week.”

“You don’t have to tell me that,” he said gruffly. Before she could complain, he’d arranged her on his lap, so she was cosseted on all sides save her front by him.

Her legs were hooked by his arms, her back and side against his chest. With his free hand, he pressed her head against his shoulder and murmured, “It’s okay. Just rest up. I've got you.”

Maybe it was because she was at her weakest point in days, or maybe it was simply because her eyeballs felt like they were being speared as even the grim sunlight Seattle was famous for managed to make its way into the car to blind her, but she conceded to his soft demand and rested against him.

The car took off with a smooth rumble, and she realized Em must have okayed this meeting because her security hadn’t shown any shock or surprise at Tyson’s presence. Nor had they drawn their weapons when he’d made the move to grab her when she’d almost fallen to the ground in a heap.

What did that mean?

Had Em spoken to Ty behind her back?

If she had, and she’d agreed to help him, that meant she believed Ty and not Karen.

A notion that, because she trusted Emily implicitly, helped her relax even further.

The ride to her apartment was smooth and took place in complete silence. If the car went over a bump, then she whimpered, and she felt Tyson’s jaw tense against her forehead at the sounds she made.

They both breathed with relief when the vehicle braked to a halt, and when one of her team opened the door, Tyson managed to climb out with her in his arms.

How he didn’t drop her, she didn’t know, but she was relieved not to have to walk anywhere.

Rodriguez, the head of her detail, let them in. She was aware the other woman kept on shooting her glances, but Bernadette kept her eyes closed, preferring to do that rather than have light pierce them and add to the ache.

When they were in her tower and winging their way up to her penthouse, she felt the change in light and it eased up her tension.

As the elevator pinged and spat them out straight into her apartment, she murmured, “It’s okay, Rodriguez. I’ll be fine from here.”

The woman disappeared, as she had a habit of doing; sinking into the shadows when Bernadette was in safe locations.

“Where’s your bedroom?” Tyson asked softly.

Any other time, she’d have tensed, but he wasn’t asking for any stupid reason, just for her own benefit.

She slitted her eyes, glanced around to get her bearings, and pointed, “Down there. Last room on the right.”

He grunted, then carried her down the corridor to her suite. He juggled her a little to open the door, and his strength once again astonished her as he swept her into her bedroom.

She felt the soft give of the mattress beneath her, jolted with surprise when he lay her down carefully then removed her shoes. Within seconds, she was covered in a blanket, the curtains covering her bedroom windows were pulled, and she was tucked up in the shadows.

She would have jerked in surprise when the other side of the bed gave way to his weight, but he snuggled against her, pulling her into him with an ease they’d gained with one another in Aspen.

He hushed her gently. “It’s okay. Sleep. We both need it.”

Before she could question that, her migraine made itself known again, and Bernadette willingly tumbled into sleep to escape the pain it caused her.

If she also used it as an excuse to be exactly where she wanted to be, in Tyson's arms, then nobody knew that but herself.