Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-One
“You’re…?” Leaving his question unfinished, Damien trailed off.
Rather than responding immediately, Niles picked up the Scotch that his host had so generously offered.
Though it was a weekday, he was at the Den, sitting in Damien’s impressive office suite, along with Gregorio.
Because what Niles had to say was important and there were sure to be questions, he’d decided to make the drive to meet with his friends and colleagues in person.
Their shock hung in the air.
Repeating himself, he said, “I’m selling my production company.”
“Go on,” Damien encouraged, leaning back in his chair.
“All cash deal. Quick close. Of course, they’ll want to negotiate with you to ensure they can still film here.” He shrugged. “The deal is contingent on that.”
Damien and Gregorio exchanged glances.
Gregorio lifted one shoulder and offered a single, sharp nod.
That Damien silently consulted the man before giving any kind of response reaffirmed how important Gregorio was to Damien’s operation.
Damien steepled his fingers. “I’m sure we can work something out.”
“Though the terms won’t be as favorable as what you received,” Gregorio cautioned.
“I wouldn’t expect otherwise.” Because he’d been a member of the Den for years and had stuck by Damien in some of his worst financial times, Niles had received a very good deal. He’d been frank about that during discussions with Starla Robinson, the potential buyer.
“This seems sudden,” Damien observed.
Perhaps to outsiders.
But to Niles, it was his only possible step.
In the weeks since Brandy had left his life, he’d been morose.
Lonely in ways he’d never been before.
After playing with her here and spending a weekend together, he no longer had any desire to dominate anyone but her, even for the camera.
He wanted something he didn’t dare name.
Richer.
Deeper.
More meaningful.
Two weeks ago, he’d asked another Dom to fill in for him while he remained at home in Denver instead of making the trip to the Winter Park area.
That same night, as he’d stared out the window at yet another moonlit two a.m. sky, he’d recalled Starla’s offhanded comment that she might want to acquire his production company.
At the time she’d first spoken to him, he hadn’t been interested.
But after he never managed to get to sleep and was operating from exhaustion, fueled by coffee and energy drinks, he’d dug out her business card and called her to set up a meeting.
Because he was ready to sell and she was ready to buy, negotiations had been pretty straightforward.
Since then, he hadn’t returned to the Den. Until now, when there was no one here except for the three of them.
The decision to step back had been the right one, and he’d fallen into a deep sleep soon after talking to Starla.
Unfortunately, nightmares, and a clawing sense of loss had awakened him a few hours later.
He’d taken care of some business.
But not all of it.
Realizing Damien was still waiting for a response, Niles shook his head. “Lost the thread,” he admitted.
That seemed to happen to him all day, every day.
Instead of focusing on business, relentlessly driving toward success, his thoughts were consumed with the beautiful, sexy blonde submissive.
“Does it have anything to do with Brandy?”
Scowling, he swung his gaze toward Gregorio. “The hell?”
Gregorio shrugged.
When Niles said nothing, Gregorio took a drink of Scotch and waited.
Though he knew next to nothing about the man’s past, he’d heard rumors.
Served in an elite special forces unit or a private military company in psychological and rescue operations.
No doubt he’d performed countless interrogations, as evidenced by dropping an innocent-sounding question then exercising untold patience while Niles squirmed.
“Until recently, you hadn’t scened in years.” Damien finally broke the silence. “Then you don’t show up for filming. Now you’re selling your company.” With one eyebrow lifted, he finished. “Doesn’t take an investigator to put all that together.”
The question crossed a line, and he took a small drink from his glass.
Friendship or not, what he and Brandy had shared was personal, and he wanted to keep it that way.
“She hasn’t been herself,” Gregorio said.
“Oh?” Despite himself, his decision not to involve anyone else, he leaned forward, desperate for any information.
The exchanges he’d had with Brandy had been all about business.
But that wasn’t necessarily true for Brandy and his aunt.
The two had evidently met for lunch to chat about ideas.
If Aunt Mame had told him before the event happened, no doubt he’d have shown up.
As it was, Mame told him next to nothing about how Brandy was doing, just that she was such a wonderful person, such a pleasure to be around. And so different from his deceased wife.
“Has she been sceneing?” Jesus. Why hadn’t he been able to hold that question back?
“Does it matter?” Damien countered.
It shouldn’t.
She was a professional submissive, but that didn’t have any effect on the fierce jealousy that clobbered him once more.
“Brandy’s a valued employee,” Damien said, reaching for his glass again. “She has a right to do what she sees fit.”
Damn straight, she does.
Now if he could make himself believe his own bullshit.
“Until you move on from the past, you can never have a future,” Damien observed.
“What the hell are you? A psychologist suddenly?”
“Look…”
They’d been friends for too long for him to expect Damien not to say what was on his mind.
“You look like shit.”
Gregorio nodded helpfully.
“So whatever happened between the two of you was significant enough to screw you both up.”
Fuck.
He plowed his hand into his hair.
The knowledge that Brandy was as affected as him made his own ache significantly worse.
“You deserve happiness.”
At this point, Damien’s comment surprised him.
“But Brandy doesn’t deserve to be hurt any further by what Eleanor did to you,” Gregorio added coldly, protectively.
No one knew that better than him.
Would he ever forget the pain in her eyes after their final, aching kiss goodbye?
Pain that he’d caused.
Quietly, but with steel force, Damien added, “She’s not a thing like her.”
Intellectually, he recognized that.
Then again, he’d thought he’d known his wife.
“If you cause more damage, I’ll crack your fucking head.” Gregorio hadn’t raised his voice, and his words were flat, as much a threat as a promise.
No doubt the dangerous former operative could do exactly that, in a dozen, creative ways.
All without breaking a sweat.
“I’d sooner hurt myself than her,” he reassured them.
“We’d rather that, as well.”
Damien’s agreement gave him no comfort.
“If you want to see her again, you’ll have to tell her the whole damn truth. She deserves it.”
“She deserves you to be the man she needs,” Gregorio added.
“Better yet,” Damien suggested, “let the past go.”
Yeah.
Right.
Easy for Damien to say.
But now that he’d slowed down, taken a step back from his responsibilities at his production company, Niles had more time than ever to think, for brutal memories to haunt him.
If it were that easy to forget and move on, Niles would have done so years ago.
Now where the hell did he go from here?
* * * *
Even though he’d passed exhaustion ten minutes before, Niles continued to pound out the miles on the treadmill at the gym.
No matter how hard he worked or exercised, he couldn’t force Damien’s words from his head.
“Let the past go.”
How could he, when the betrayal lingered?
And yet…
Despite his angry reaction to his friends’ words, Damien and Gregorio were both right.
Niles would remain stuck, as long as he allowed the events of that day to occupy space in his brain.
Like a movie reel, images of his beautiful Brandy fluttered through his memory.
Her scowling, arguing about letting him help with kitchen cleanup at her house.
Wearing those stockings to breakfast at the diner.
On her knees, surrendering.
Wearing his triskelion pendant.
Then even thoughts of her ridiculous menagerie intruded.
Dana and her big, floppy ears.
MW and his nasty, sharp little teeth and relentless determination to bite at toes.
The outrageously loud cat.
What chaos was going on in the house at that moment?
What was Brandy doing? Working? Or taking care of the pets?
After all, it was Saturday, and she was probably getting ready to go to the Den.
For a moment, he was tempted to head for the club, but he shook his head forcefully.
He needed to stay away.
Annoyed that he was struggling to avoid his impulses, he turned up the speed on the machine, needing to run harder, faster to outpace his thoughts.
Fuck.
It was then that he realized the truth.
Since their time together, he’d spent far more time ruminating about Brandy and what he was missing out on than he had thinking about Eleanor’s behavior.
The two women couldn’t have been more different.
Eleanor had been obsessed with her law firm. Though she had been a submissive, she’d never been into it the way Brandy was.
His wife had playacted, while Brandy’s reactions and emotions were authentic.
Brandy even opened her home and her heart to every stray creature, even ones that everyone else had given up on.
Had she given up on him?
Once more, he increased his speed.
No.She couldn’t have. Wouldn’t have.
By her own admission, she cared about him.
And…
Christ.
From nowhere, the truth hit him.
Niles punched at the red button to stop the machine.
He loved Brandy.
And he wanted to spend the rest of his life with her.
“She deserves you to be the man she needs.”
Gregorio’s words echoed, as clearly as if he were standing in the room.
Yeah.
She deserved that. And so much more.
Which meant he had to take action.
Suddenly, and for the first time ever, certainty settled around him.
He knew exactly what to do.
Determined, he showered and headed home.
Inside his condo, he strode straight to the bedroom and opened his safe to take out the box that he’d locked away so long ago.
Without opening the lid, he tucked it inside a jacket pocket, then he headed for his SUV.
He should have taken this action years ago.
Time to get rid of the past…
* * * *
Niles turned on his emergency hazard flashers and eased off the windy Lookout Mountain road that had been the site of his wife’s fatal crash.
Well, that of Eleanor and her…
What?
Even he didn’t know what to call the man who’d died alongside her.
Lover?
Intended?
Fiancé?
After stopping the vehicle, he remained where he was, gripping the steering wheel, staring at the two small, white crosses near each other.
Unbidden, memories assailed him.
Of the knock on the door from the police officer.
Of the seemingly endless drive to the Jefferson County morgue to identify her body.
Of seeing a ring on her finger that didn’t belong to him.
Of searching for answers.
Confused, devastated, he’d driven to this exact spot, where he’d met Dale Cunningham’s younger sister, Lori.
She was as shocked to meet Niles as he was to find out who she was.
Together, through their grief, they’d pieced together parts of the puzzle, though massive questions remained even today.
Lori had evidently met Eleanor on several occasions, and the two had spent time together, going shopping, enjoying Saturday morning pedicures.
On the night she’d died, Eleanor had picked up Dale from his office in Denver West, and they’d driven to the country club on Lookout Mountain where he’d proposed to her.
Since Dale had sent Lori photos from the happy event, Niles hadn’t been able to deny reality, no matter how much he wanted to.
Eleanor and Dale had celebrated over two bottles of champagne, and a third, empty one, had been found in the totaled vehicle.
As they’d continued to talk, Lori had shaken her head in horror and disbelief at the knowledge that Eleanor was already married.
Eleanor had told Lori and Dale that she was divorced and had never been happy in her first marriage.
Odd, because Niles had believed everything was fine.
Like most married couples, they had struggled.
The only thing he’d been concerned about was their lack of time together due to her work schedule.
Which he eventually found out had been a cover.
Her law firm hadn’t been doing well, and she’d spent more time away from the office than she had in it.
Lie upon lie, upon lie.
How many more were there still?
The cause of the accident was ultimately listed as excessive speed, and she’d driven off the side of the mountain.
Toxicology reports eventually showed that her blood alcohol content was significantly above the legal limit.
The funeral had been a gloomy, rainy nightmare.
He’d kept his counsel while friends and colleagues offered their condolences, and he was filled with rage over her betrayal.
For a moment, he’d caught a glimpse of Lori in the distance, beneath an umbrella. She hadn’t approached him, and he appreciated that.
Since then, he hadn’t seen her.
Now, after a few bicyclists pedaled by, never glancing his way, and having no idea about the awful wreck that had happened so close to the roadway, he released his grip on the steering wheel and exited the vehicle.
The small crosses were side by side.
The one on the left was adorned with personal items, a new photo, proving that Lori had been a recent visitor.
There was also a solar light, along with fresh flowers.
In front of the other cross, there was nothing.
Eleanor had been an only child, and her parents were gone.
Since that fateful day, he’d never returned.
Lowering himself to one knee, he pulled out the box he’d tucked away.
Once it was open, the fall sunlight glinted off the wedding ring and day collar that he’d found in her dresser drawer.
How long had their marriage been over when he found out the truth?
And how was it possible for him to have not seen how unhappy she had to have been to have led a secret, shadow life?
He picked up her day collar, and a gust of wind whipped up, making the clasp sway.
Without a second thought, he moved aside some dried up pine needles and used a stick to dig into the ground. Then he placed the item in the small hole.
Never hesitating, he dropped her wedding ring on top of it before covering both up.
He waited for grief that never came.
Instead, resolve took its place.
He pushed himself to his feet and stood in the elements, allowing the sunshine to wash over his face and the breeze to chase away his ghosts.
Eleanor was free.
And now so was Niles.
He looked over the vast, expansive view.
He’d learned his lessons.
To never allow himself to be blind to the obvious.
To recognize and honor the things that mattered most.
The people who mattered.
No longer mired in the past, he vowed to make the most of the future.
If Brandy Hess would still have him…