Chapter Ten
July rocked with storms and streamed with sun.
Sonya welcomed both.
Once the Ryder Sports team had approved and chosen the new photos, she selected some for the website, others for digital ads, television ads, billboards, in-store posters.
She mocked up a split screen. A girl in a Ryder bathing suit caught by Corrine in mid-leap off a diving board into a backyard pool, and a man on a ski slope, Ryder skis, parka, pants, gloves, helmet, boots, in the snow-drenched Alps.
Added a tag.
Then she got up, walked away, walked around, watered Xena, looked out at the sea.
Walked back.
“Yes. Yes. Yes. It works. It’s right. Anyone, anywhere, anytime. Ryder’s got you. It frigging works.”
Sitting, she pored through the other shots for more. One with a photo representing each season. Snowboarding, Trey fielding a ball, Owen and Cleo sailing, a couple of teens playing touch football.
Whatever the season, whatever the sport, Ryder’s got you.
And another split, sweaty Owen pumping iron and Trey playing fetch with Mookie.
At work or at play, Ryder’s got you.
“We did this, we really did this. Good job, Corrine, good job, Ryder team. Good job, Sonya! And I’ve got another idea to try out.”
Revved up and ready, she started working on it. As she made some headway, the doorbell rang. She started to ignore it as one of Dobbs’s tricks, but Yoda scrambled up and ran out barking.
“Okay, okay, maybe somebody’s actually there.”
Though the interruption annoyed, as the new idea cooked, she went to the window, looked out. She saw a car, not a familiar one, in the drive.
“Hell, all right.”
In roomy black shorts—Ryder’s, of course—an old white T-shirt, and bare feet, she jogged down.
Opening the door, she found herself at a total loss for words.
Hair shining in the sun, khakis pressed, polo shirt blue to match his eyes, Brandon Wise, former coworker, former fiancé, lying, cheating, back-stabbing son of a bitch, stood smiling at her.
“Sonya, wow! What a place! And in the middle of nowhere. And you’ve got a dog.”
Brandon eyed Yoda as Yoda eyed him, and Yoda cautiously wagged his tail.
Pye slunk down the stairs.
“And a cat.” A shadow of irritation dimmed his megawatt smile. “You know I’m allergic to cats. Maybe you could put it away somewhere.”
“No. What are you doing here?”
He shifted as Yoda gave his Ferragamo loafers a sniff. “I had some business in Portland, and decided to take a little detour to see you, see how you’re doing. You must really ramble around this old place.”
When he started to step inside. Sonya held up a hand.
“You’re not welcome here.”
Her tone had Yoda giving a quiet little growl.
“Come on, Sonya, don’t be childish. I went out of my way just to see how you’re doing.”
He slid by her into the foyer.
Cats could growl, too, and Pye did just that. Upstairs, the iPad shouted out with Taylor Swift’s “Illicit Affairs.”
Ignoring it all, Brandon scanned the foyer, the turret sitting room, the main parlor.
“Looks like you fell right into it. I bet this old place is worth a mint. And it must cost another mint to maintain.”
His gaze ticked up the big staircase, over again to the main parlor. She could all but hear him adding up inventory.
“Way too big for you, babe. And way into the hinterlands with no nightlife, no restaurants, no shops. You must be bored brainless.”
He shot her another smile. “Aren’t you going to offer me a drink?”
“No. You need to leave. I want you to get out.” She pointed at the open door. “Now.”
His smile—one she now knew had more smarm than charm—never wavered.
“Look, I made the detour because I wanted to congratulate you, in person, on the Ryder Sports job. As one professional to another.”
“Okay. Now leave.”
“Talk about sore winners.” He laughed with it as he wandered toward the turret room. “Round walls. Weird place. Anyway.”
He turned back to her where she stood flanked by the dog and the cat.
“You must have figured out by now that a project like the Ryder campaign’s too big for one person. I’ve started my own company, and Wise Marketing’s already taken off.”
“Congratulations. Get out of my house.”
He rolled right over her. “It was past time for me to shake loose of By Design. I’m pretty busy, but for old times’ sake, I’m willing to help you out with Ryder.”
Of all the things he might have said, that one hit the top of the irony bar.
“You have got to be kidding me.”
He rolled right over that, too, and spread his hands. All reason and benevolence.
“I’m here to take some of the stress off you, share the load. In fact, I’m more than willing to clear the slate. Forget past mistakes, yours, mine.”
He walked to her.
“How about we sit down, talk about it? I’ve missed being with you. Seeing you again like this…”
He started to reach a hand for her cheek.
“How about, once again, no? Try to touch me again, I’m calling the police.”
“Yeah, I bet they’re really on the ball down there in whatever it is, a hamlet?” He couldn’t quite cover the sneer in his voice. “I just want to sit down, have a conversation.”
Oh so reasonable, he spread his hands.
“We’re both adults, and you’ve had more than enough time to cool off, come back to reality. And the reality is, we were good together, we need each other. Together we can put By Design in the ground.”
“That’s not my reality. I don’t even think it’s yours, but on the off chance it is, let me be really, really clear. I’m not interested in any association with you. At all. Ever. Now get the hell out of my house.”
The look he gave her transmitted disappointed adult to stubborn child.
“There’s that childish streak again. Honestly, it can be endearing.”
He sneezed twice, gave Pye a vicious glare. “Now put that damn cat somewhere. We’re going to sit down and talk.”
He curled a hand around her arm, held on, fingers digging in, when she tried to jerk away. At her feet Yoda let out three quick barks and showed his teeth. Pye’s ears lay back as she arched her back and hissed.
“Call off that ugly mutt and get rid of that cat.”
“Take your hand off me, now. I’m warning you, Brandon, I can do worse, a lot worse than my dog and cat or the police. Get out of my house.”
“Knock off the drama and bitchiness.” Face set now, he tugged her toward the parlor. “We’re going to sit down, and you’re going to listen.”
“No, and no.”
She was on the point of kneeing him, hard, when Yoda’s ball flew and banged into the back of his head.
A laugh followed it. A young boy’s laugh.
“What the hell is that?”
“That’s the a lot worse, and it’s just getting started.”
His head jerked back as if from a punch or slap, Yoda snapped and snarled. Pye took a swipe that scraped claws over his khakis.
Before he could follow through with a kick at Pye, Brandon wheeled back as if from a hard shove. And his eyes went wide with fear.
“Warned you.”
“You hit me!”
“You know I didn’t.”
Then he jerked forward, looked behind him with a hand on his butt. And sneezed three times in rapid succession.
Enjoying herself now, Sonya smiled. “Nor did I just kick you in the ass.”
A voice boomed out, female and full of rage.
Get out of our house, motherfucker!
Sonya’s phone, the iPad upstairs, the one in the kitchen all boomed out with Tom Petty’s “Don’t Come Around Here No More.”
“I’d take that advice.” She strode to the door, pointed at the opening. And smiled again. “Run.”
He managed a shaky stumble to the door, and kept going.
On the run to his car, he called out, “You’ll regret this.”
Another series of sneezes ruined his exit.
“I really don’t think I will.”
Sonya closed the door firmly behind him.
Petty continued to sing, but at a lower volume.
“I don’t believe he will. Thanks for the assist, Jack, Clover. And you two.” She crouched to scrub Yoda and Pye all over. “You’re not an ugly little mutt, but my handsome hero. And you, a discerning and courageous cat.”
She walked over, then just sat on the steps.
“I feel righteous. And shaky. Righteously shaky. I’m just going to sit here until the shaky part passes. Shit. If I don’t call Trey and tell him about this, he’ll be pissed at me. If I call him and tell him about this, he’ll be pissed. But not at me.”
She let out a breath. “So pissed either way, and I might as well call and tell him.”
With Yoda snuggled beside her, Pye on watch on top of the newel post, she took out her phone. Since her hand trembled a little, she took a few more calming breaths.
“And I’ll have to tell Cleo when she gets home. And Owen has to hear about it. Damn it, I have to tell Mom in case he tries to harass her.”
She looked down at her dog. “Make one stupid mistake with one stupid jerk, and look what it gets you.”
She called Trey.
“Hey, cutie. Everything okay?”
“Yes. It’s fine, I’m fine, and I’m stressing that. But I wanted to tell you so we don’t have a round about it, Brandon Wise was here.”
“He came to the manor?”
“Yeah, he sort of bulled his way in, and—”
“I’m on my way.”
“Trey, he’s gone. I made him leave—with a little help from Clover and Jack. And Yoda and Pyewacket.”
“I’m on my way,” he repeated, in a tone that sounded absolutely calm. “Stay inside.”
Since he’d ended the call, she sighed and put the phone back in her pocket. “Oh well.”
She decided to sit just where she sat until she felt as calm as Trey sounded.
She didn’t wait long. At home, Mookie rushed in to greet her, Yoda, and Pye. Sonya decided Steady-as-a-Rock Doyle had broken all the posted speed limits.
She’d seen him angry a handful of times, but now she recognized barely controlled rage.
“I know you’re upset,” she began. “So am I, but—”
His gaze shot down to her arm, seemed to burn there.
“You’ve got a bruise on your arm.”
She glanced down. “Oh, it’s nothing. It’s just—”
“Sonya.”
Her name, in a tone of utter patience with fury banked just behind it, had her swallowing any downplay.
“Let’s sit down, and you can tell me exactly what happened.”
“All right, okay.”