Chapter Eleven

 

 

 

Syd barely made it into her room before breaking into tears. She sank to the floor in front of the bed and covered her face as she sobbed. She was miserable from saying goodbye to Caleb and angry with herself for spending time with him in the first place. It only made everything impossibly worse.

These last two days reminded her of what it was like to be truly needed and wanted by a man. It showed her that she had a right to be treated respectfully, that she had a right to laugh and that she had a right to be happy. Yet even though she had those rights, they didn’t matter. Her father, her family, came first and always would—and that meant she was stuck with Brett. To spend any measure of time with Caleb risked it all, but she did so anyway. And showing herself that she deserved better? That was dangerous.

“Stupid,” she spat out. “I’m so stupid!”

I don’t need to be reminded of what I can’t have, what I’ll never have if I marry Brett, she thought bitterly, shoulders sinking.

But there was no way out of it, not yet. If they found a means to make the restaurants profitable again, they could sell the chain, take the money, and use it to find a solution for their family woes—if such a solution even existed. Until then, though, they were at Brett’s mercy. If he told the world what he’d uncovered…

She shook the thought out of her head and reached for a tissue to blot her tear-stained cheeks. Her family was everything to her, and there was no way she’d risk it. Her father, and how frail he’d been looking as of late with all this stress on his shoulders—nothing was worth the risk of losing him.

She stood and moved to the dresser to retrieve her cell phone. She plugged it in, turned it on, and was greeted by the little red message light, blinking away incessantly, urging her to call her voicemail and have a listen if she dared. She stared at the screen and wasn’t sure if she should laugh or start crying all over again.

There were thirty-seven messages. Thirty-seven. In the span of thirty-six hours.

Syd rolled her eyes and sighed, hitting the voicemail button and entering her password.

The first two messages were from Brett.

“Nikoleta, where are you? I need to speak with you. Call me.”

“Nikoleta, why aren’t you answering your phone!”

She groaned. All these years, and still only he, her father, and occasionally her step-brother when he was really worried about her, ever called her by her first name. According to Brett, going by her middle name was ‘silly, improper and unrefined’.

Her father, well, he had been born in Greece. And he was her father. He had an excuse.

The next message was from her step-brother, Theo, and she smiled.

“Hey, Syd! When you get back in town, call me. I want to hook up for lunch or something. Love you!”

Roughly a dozen hang-ups came next, followed by a message from her father.

“Nikki, it’s Papa, honey. I need to talk to you. Brett is very upset because he can’t reach you. You cannot do this.” A pause, a sigh. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Just…just call me when you get this, okay, Nikki? Okay.”

Syd sighed and deleted the message. Her father knew she was hurting, but he was frightened. And he was right to be—she was scared, too.

Still going through her messages, she deleted a few more hang-ups, then she was blessed by another message from Brett, this one showing the Brett she despised.

“Nikki, where the fuck are you and why the fuck aren’t you answering your phone? It’s past midnight! You call me as soon as you get this!”

The next message was from Cara—the best friend and sista’ from another mista’ who never ceased to make Syd smile.

“Syd, I’ve got this great idea, ya know? You, me, wine. Sound good? Yeah, I thought you’d like it. Call me!”

Finally, Syd made it to the last of the thirty-seven messages, and of course, it was another from dear Brett, less than half an hour ago.

“Nikki, you better have a good fucking explanation for this! I’ve been calling you since yesterday morning—where in the hell are you? If you don’t call me before noon I’m going to have to have a little discussion with your father. And we all know what that means, don’t we?” he said before disconnecting.

Syd was nearly unable to resist the urge to throw the cell against the wall. “Asshole,” she grunted, tossing the phone onto the bed instead. She stripped out of her clothes and quickly donned a dark green pantsuit and cream-colored silk blouse. She wrapped a gold lariat chain around her neck and began rummaging through her purse and suitcase.

“Where the fuck are my earrings?” she muttered impatiently.

She stood straight, eyes widening as it came to her. She had taken the gold chandelier earrings off after dinner last night while they were sitting in front of the fire. She had put them on the coffee table, but didn’t recall picking them up.

“Damn, I liked those,” Syd grumbled, opting for a pair of gold and diamond studs instead.

She surveyed the room quickly. “Okay…purse, laptop, cell. Ready to go.” She snatched up her coat and swung it on when her purse starting buzzing.

She groaned and glanced at the clock. She had fifteen minutes to make it to the restaurant. She pulled the phone out of her purse and checked the call display.

“Brett,” she said flatly, answering the call.

“Nikoleta! Where the hell have you been? I’ve been worried sick about you! I thought something was wrong!”

She sighed. “No, Brett. You weren’t worried about me. You were checking up on me and you got upset when you didn’t know exactly where I was or what I was doing.” Fuck, she mouthed, angry with herself. Why the hell did she have to say that? It would only piss him off even more. When would she learn that giving Brett grief was never a good idea?

“Well, my beloved, you’re in a dangerous mood this morning, aren’t you? You were supposed to be heading back home today—you’re still in Banff?”

“Yes, and look, Brett, I’m sorry, but I need to get to the restaurant. I pushed my meetings to today and I have one to be at in ten minutes. If I don’t get out of here now I’m going to be late.”

“I called the restaurant and found out you rescheduled your meetings, Nikoleta. You had to realize I’d find out what you were up to, one way or another.”

Oh God, he knows.

“Now tell me, why did you move them? What reason could you have possibly had?”

A rush of relief washed over her and she sighed. There was no way he knew. Brett was a lot of things, but he certainly wasn’t one to play dumb. “I was tired, Brett, that’s it. I’ve been running myself ragged lately and I needed a recharge.”

“And I need you back home where I can keep an eye on you! We have a deal, Nikki. Don’t forget that.”

How can I?

“What were you doing yesterday?” he persisted in his interrogation.

“Relaxing, as I said. Listen, I really do have to go or I’m going to be late.”

He huffed. “Fine, go. But I’m not done with you, Nikki. We’ll finish talking about this when you get home!”

“No, Brett. We won’t,” Syd said wearily as she broke the connection and left the room.

 

* * * *

 

The day went agonizingly slowly, but eventually her meetings ended. In a rush, Syd hadn’t picked up her Escape from the mechanic prior to her appointments and she had to swing by the shop before heading back to the hotel.

Finished with errands, finished with meetings, Syd wearily dragged herself into her room and packed up her stuff. In the morning, she’d make the ten-hour drive back home.

Syd buried herself in the thick down comforter and rubbed her grainy eyes, yawning. She reached to turn off the bedside lamp and froze, catching a glance of her hand.

She’d forgotten that she hadn’t put Brett’s ring back on.

She didn’t love him. She didn’t want to marry him. But it was either that or fail her father, and she couldn’t lose another parent—it would be unbearable.

She flicked the lamp off and rolled onto her side, curling her knees up to her chest.

Alone in the dark with her thoughts, Syd began to cry.