T welve hours ago, I watched Frankie drive away from me for the final time. And for twelve hours I've sat on this front porch and stared at the empty driveway across the street, hoping I'll see her pull back in .
I rub my eyes with the heels of my palms, hoping to relieve some of the burning, but nothing will take away the sting of watching her flee. Twice I've watched the woman I love leave—and the second time wasn’t any easier than the first .
The first time, I was too big of a coward to cross the street and let her go the way she deserved. This time, I begged her to stay and the reality of the pain I caused slapped me in the face .
Frankie's face twisted in pain at the lies I put in place hurt more than watching her leave. For me, I'll rightfully live my miserable life in the prison of my lies .
The front door slams across the street and Faith bounds down the rickety steps, twisting a sweater tight around her waist. Her hair is wild and her flip-flops smack the bottom of her feet as she crosses the street. Dammit, she’s headed right for me, and I'm in no fucking mood to deal with her attitude right now .
"What the fuck do you want, Faith?" I bark from my chair .
"Why did you pull that shit yesterday, Cole ?"
"What shit are you speaking of? The one where I asked Frankie not to go—because that's not shit, Faith. That was me laying it on the line." Maybe a decade too late, but at least I did it .
She snorts and moves closer, narrowing her eyes at me. "Laying it on the line? By telling her about your twisted, fucked up lies, and then hoping she'd forgive you at the drop of a dime and stay ?"
I push back out of my chair, the legs screeching on the worn wood as I stand up. "Do you have any idea how long I wanted to come clean and tell her the truth? Any idea how much I fucking love that woman? Do you, Faith?" I can feel my blood pressure rising as I move in on her. Rage fills me and my voice booms as I stand over her. "Any fucking idea how much it kills me knowing that she's engaged to someone else?" My voice breaks and I turn around so Faith can't see the tears stinging the back of my eyes. “Fuck,” I mutter under my breath .
"Was engaged—" Faith says, snapping her mouth shut as I quickly turn back to face her .
"What do mean ‘was ’?"
She looks away from me and snaps her mouth shut .
"What do you mean, Faith?" I ask again .
She turns and looks at me, narrowing her eyes. "It doesn't matter, Cole. She's gone. You chased her away…again ."
The truth in her words hurt, but I’m not letting it go this time. "No, back up. What the fuck do you mean was engaged, Faith? I'm not asking again. Answer the goddamn question ."
"It's none of your business," she snaps at me .
"Oh, it's my business all right. Frankie will always be my business ."
"Oh, fuck off, Cole ."
I stand on the porch, my hands clenched in anger. "No, you fuck off. I am so tired of you barking orders at me. What happened was between Frankie and me. And yes, I fucked up. For the rest of my life, I'll live with the regret of my lies. I apologized. I told her the truth—and if I never see her again, all I want is her forgiveness—" Fuck, my voice breaks and I can barely speak against the lump in my throat, but I swallow hard and try. "I love her, Faith. For the rest of my life, until my last breath, I will always love her ."
Tears float in Faith's eyes and she steps away from me. "Just leave her alone, Cole. That's all I ask. She's hurting so much right now. Your admission, Mom, Ted—she's fraying at the seams and I'm so afraid she's going — "
I stop her and ask with a plea in my voice. "Tell me what happened with Ted ."
She sighs and runs her hand through her hair, tucking it behind her ear. "He cheated on her. She found him in bed with another woman when she got home last night ."
My jaw ticks wildly and my knuckles hurt from clenching my fists. The rage I felt earlier was nothing compared to what I'm feeling now. "She saw them?" I ask for clarification and Faith simply nods .
"She's not in a good place right now, Cole. I beg you to please leave her be. She needs time ."
I rake my hand over my face, trying to calm my anger. "I don't make promises I can't keep, Faith. But I'll tell you this much. I made the mistake of hurting her once. I'll never make that mistake again ."
Faith purses her lips. "What does that mean ?"
"That means you can hold me to my word ."
She throws her arms up in the air and hisses, "Jesus, Cole. I said leave her alone ."
"Goodbye, Faith!" I bark over my shoulder as I head into the house to pack. If I'm going to Los Angeles for work, I'm going to make this trip worth my while .
"If you do anything stupid, I'll kill—" The sound of Faith's voice disappears as I slam the door closed behind me .
* * *
I startle awake as the airplane glides to a smooth landing in Burbank. The flight was just over an hour and I must’ve slept the entire way because I barely remember putting my seat belt on. That's the most sleep I've had in the past two days, and while I'm exhausted, adrenaline still courses through my veins. I exit the airport to find a driver and town car waiting for me .
"Mr. Cole, I'm William." The driver reaches out his hand to shake mine before taking my small carry-on .
I take in the sights as William weaves through the Hollywood Hills like an expert before we pull up to a gated driveway .
"This is us," he announces as he pushes a button and the large gate rolls open. It amazes me how spacious these home sites are for how many seem to be built next to each other .
The car rolls slowly down the long drive, surrounded by a large, lush front yard, perfectly manicured with a giant fountain right in the center. The house we pull up to is not what I expected. It's historical, most likely built in the late 1930s. A large garage with six garage doors sits just off and behind the house. William pulls up and parks outside the one open garage stall .
"Mr. Ryan, I'll inform Mr. Vanderbilt that you're here." He looks at me through the rearview mirror. I nod and open my door as he continues. "I believe the vehicle you'll be looking at is just inside. Feel free to get started ."
"Thank you," I tell him, stepping out onto the driveway. I take in the large house and the enormous yard, impressed but not overwhelmed. It’s not until I step into the garage that I catch my breath. Sitting before me is a 1971 Corvette LS6. It's in shitty condition, but these are a rare find. Literally. Only one hundred and eighty-eight were ever produced. I've never worked on one and only ever seen one at a luxury car auction. That particular car sold for over two hundred thousand dollars .
I run my fingers over the faded body and stick my head inside the open window, salivating at the sight of it. It needs everything. A complete overhaul inside and out. I pull out my phone and take a couple of pictures while jotting some notes about the specs .
"Mr. Ryan!" I hear my name before I hear the footsteps approaching. I whip around to find Jack Vanderbilt strolling across the drive, headed directly toward me. He's shorter than I expected, but his inviting smile makes him approachable, likable. "Jack Vanderbilt. Pleasure to meet you." He reaches out and shakes my hand .
"Cole Ryan. Please, just call me Cole." He nods, placing his hands on his hips before he stands back and admires the car .
"How in the hell did you get your hands on one of these?" I shake my head, still in awe of the beauty .
He huffs out a laugh. "Money ."
"Well, no shit," I respond and let out a small laugh in return. "Sure makes it easier, huh ?"
"It sure does." He steps forward and kicks the tire. "I got into cars as a teenager. Used to putz around on them with my grandpa. I never took a liking for fixing them up, but I sure like to drive them." He chuckles. "Your name came up several times when I was looking to purchase this car. Everyone says you're the best in the country. Low profile, good work, honest ."
I swallow as he talks about me. It's weird to hear my name gets tossed around in circles that Jack Vanderbilt runs in .
I turn to look at him and a sense of pride washes over me. If I've done anything right in my life, it was starting this business. "I appreciate that," I tell him. "And this car here is a dream. I'd be honored if you'd let me restore it ."
He circles the car, inspecting it alongside me. "So what do you think it will cost to restore it ?"
"Depends on what it looks like under the hood. My guess, from the condition on the outside, is that everything will need to be replaced. Engine, motor, the whole nine yards. You're easily looking at one seventy-five, maybe closer to two ."
He doesn't bat an eye at the numbers I've just thrown at him. "Let's do it," he says, clapping me on the shoulder .
"Sounds good. I'll draw up a contract and have it sent over. Fifty percent down, and remaining balance is due at delivery. I'll have my guys come and load the car and transport it to my shop once we've both signed the contract. Timing will be difficult to nail down because getting these parts will be the trickiest part of the job ."
Jack stands with his hands on his hips and a giant smile on his face. "Understood. I don't care if it takes two years, I want this baby back in pristine condition ."
"And that you will." I reach out my hand to shake his. My dad always taught me that a handshake was the way to seal a business deal. He never dealt with contracts, but when I'm working on vehicles that will cost upward of a quarter of a million dollars when I'm done, a contract is what we do .
"I look forward to working with you, man." He looks at his watch and points to the house. "I have to run, but I'll tell my assistant to be expecting the contract ."
"Yes, sir ."
"Jack," he corrects me. "And William will take you wherever you need to go ."
"Thank you. I'll be in touch." And just like that, Jack Vanderbilt disappears .
Glancing back at the car, I grin. A month ago, I’d be damn near giddy at the idea of a project like this to bury myself in. But now, I don’t need to bury myself. I need to find Frankie .
* * *
"S ir, we're here." William's voice pulls me from my daydream. William steers the car into the drive of The Hollywood Roosevelt Hotel. I should’ve known Jack Vanderbilt would put me up in some swanky Hollywood hotel. I'd have been fine at the Holiday Inn out in the suburbs .
I reach for the door handle, but not before William gets to it and opens it for me. "Sir, I'll get your bag to the bellman. You can check in inside. The room is already taken care of, charged to Mr. Vanderbilt's account ."
Account? Why in the hell would anyone need an account at a hotel? And I have one small suitcase. I don't need a goddamn bellman to deliver my bag. I nod, grateful for his help. "Thank you, William. I appreciate all of your help today." I reach for my wallet to pull out some cash to tip him, but he holds out his hand to stop me .
"No thanks needed. It was my pleasure." He nods at me and slides back into the driver’s seat and slowly drives away. I reach for my suitcase just as the bellman does, but I win, not turning over my small carry-on to a man when I'm more than capable of handling it .
I check in and decide to call it a night, placing a room service order. The suite I'm booked in is reminiscent of some sleek modern new hotel, not a hotel built in the 1920s. Everything in this room is crisp lines, modern design, and vibrant colors with a canopy draping the king-size bed. Not exactly my style, but it's definitely quintessential Hollywood .
A giant cheeseburger, a double order of French fries, and two beers are delivered just as I finish showering and changing into clean clothes. A million thoughts run through my head and my body is tired from the multitude of emotions I'm feeling. Excitement at booking this new car deal with Jack Vanderbilt, devastation over losing Frankie, but also a small sense of determination in finding her and making her mine…again .
Over dinner I text Carter, telling him about the Vanderbilt deal, then I write up the business proposal, terms and conditions, cost estimate, transportation agreement and timeline, packaging it all together and sending it off to Jack Vanderbilt's assistant for his signature. After checking on the progress at The Fault Line, I turn my focus to Frankie…and plotting how I'm going to get her back .