Chapter Twenty-Eight
TYLER
I’m not sure what I should expect when we walk inside.
The waiters wear dress shirts with ties and the customers drink wine from crystal glasses.
It’s the type of place you take a date with the expectation of getting fucked afterward.
I can’t even imagine how expensive the food is, but it’s not any of my concern since Robert’s paying.
Perhaps I’ll order the most expensive dinner I can.
When Gemma walks to the host stand, I can tell she’s uncomfortable.
It’s reserved seating only, so she gives them Robert’s name. Moments later, they’re escorting us through the dining area to a semi-private room in the back.
As we pass the tables, I feel as if there’s a spotlight on me and everyone knows I don’t belong.
At times like this, I’m convinced I have the word convict tattooed on my forehead.
We continue and are finally brought to a secluded area where Robert’s sitting at a table with a blonde.
The way he creepily studies the woman, who I can only see from behind, is disgusting.
It’s as if he’s undressing her with his perverted eyes.
Gemma glances at me, and I shoot her a wink.
It’s enough to make her lips turn up as we move closer.
Robert stands to greet and kiss Gemma’s cheek, but she takes a step back.
When I step forward, the woman turns her head.
The room briefly fades and goes black as the shock of who’s in Lawton Ridge settles.
“What the hell?” My voice booms as I zero in on her—Victoria O’Leary.
Her plump lips turn up into a sneer as she finds joy in my expression, and I can barely control my temper.
“Oh, fantastic.” Victoria crosses her legs, showing off her bare thighs. “How lovely to see you again, Tyler. It’s been a while, hasn’t it? About…five years?” She forces out a malicious chuckle as I narrow my eyes and ball my hands into fists.
Gemma looks back and forth between us. “You know her?”
I glare at Robert and Victoria. “That’s the bitch who framed me and got me locked up.”
Victoria’s hand flies to her chest, and she cackles so loud it pierces my ears. “You got exactly what you deserved.”
“Did you know about this, Robert?” Gemma asks in an accusing tone, crossing her arms over her chest. “This is low, even for you.”
The room is tense as hell, and I gently grab Gemma’s arm and pull her back so she’s not too close to Victoria.
“I had no idea,” he claims, huffing as if he’s insulted she’d even ask.
I move closer, putting space between him and Gemma. “Cut the shit, Robert. You knew exactly who she was. Fuck you.”
“And fuck you too,” I say, turning to Victoria.
“We’re not staying here.” I grab Gemma’s hand to lead her out of here, knowing exactly how dangerous it is for us to be around Victoria. Seconds later, Gemma jerks away. Our hands break, and Robert has her pulled close to his body.
“Let me go!” she shouts.
“I didn’t know, Gemma.” Robert pleads with his eyes.
“Bullshit,” I say.
“I didn’t!” He raises his voice, and I catch sight of Victoria watching us with amusement. We argue back and forth before Victoria walks over to us with her wine glass in hand.
“He really didn’t know,” she admits, drinking her alcohol as if she’s having the best time.
“And why should I trust a goddamn word that comes out of your mouth? I learned my lesson already.” I scowl.
She flashes her million-dollar smile. “Believe what you want, Tyler. I wanted to find you after I saw your name on that witness list. Which was far too easy, by the way. I knew we’d meet again, though honestly I didn’t think it would be this early in the game.
It’s a nice surprise, even more so that it involves some weird love triangle.
” Victoria’s obviously proud of herself as she arches a brow with a cunning smirk.
“Mission fucking accomplished,” I throw her way, blocking Gemma from both of them. Victoria’s dangerous and so is Robert.
“My previous sentiment still stands,” I say. “Fuck off.”
Gemma and I move toward the door as Robert follows us, begging her to stay like a little bitch.
He continues to mutter Gemma’s name under his breath as the exit of the restaurant comes into view.
Once we’re outside, he cries for her to stop.
Gemma sucks in a deep breath and breaks away from my hold.
“I have to talk to him,” she whispers.
I plead with my eyes not to give in to him, but she does, though she keeps her distance.
“Honestly, I didn’t know,” he says again. “You have to believe me.”
Watching with my arms crossed, I’m ready to pounce if he lays a hand on her.
“Maybe you didn’t, but as you mentioned before, there’s zero trust between us. I don’t think I can believe anything you say anymore, Robert. Not that it matters since we’re no longer together.”
He acts as if she slapped him in the face, but Gemma continues. “She’s dangerous. And if you’re as smart as you claim to be, you’ll walk away from her and that deal now before she turns on you too.”
Robert opens his mouth, then shuts it. “I’m not scared of her.” His eyes snap to me. “Or you.”
Gemma shrugs. “Fine, but don’t say I didn’t warn you. I’m leaving.”
“You’re not going anywhere. You agreed to have dinner with me tonight. We have other things to discuss.” Robert growls.
He must have a death wish if he’s talking to her that way.
“No.” She doesn’t explain herself and takes the ring off her finger. She steps closer, then hands it to him.
“If you go, you’ll be sorry,” he threatens, studying the diamond he thought would be enough to make her happy.
Gemma shakes her head and smiles. “Ready?”
“This isn’t fucking over, Gemma!” Robert yells from behind us.
She looks over her shoulder. “Go to hell, Robert. And take Victoria with you.”
I can’t wipe off my smug grin as we walk to her car. I grab her keys and offer to drive. Once I unlock the doors and we’re inside, I notice her breaths are ragged. When our eyes meet, sadness is in her expression.
“I’m so sorry you had to see her, Tyler.”
“It’s not your fault. Victoria is a sneaky bitch and lives for drama.”
“Is she why you went to Vegas?” Gemma asks as I turn onto the main road. Swallowing hard, I don’t want to lie, but I don’t want to get her involved any more than she is, either. The less she and Everleigh know, the better.
“Yes.”
“I never put the pieces together. It didn’t cross my mind that she was the same Victoria that you knew, and I didn’t care to ask questions.” Gemma shakes her head. “I’ve met her before.”
“When?” I ask, trying to figure out the timeline.
“Monday night. We met her for dinner. She was the one who dropped the bomb about the wedding.”
I’m lost in my thoughts for a moment. No wonder she was quiet when I was in Vegas. Victoria was here planting the seeds for her evil plan, whatever it is.
“No telling what Robert’s told her,” I say honestly.
She groans. “I hope he kept his mouth shut, but considering she knew about the wedding, I highly doubt it. Robert has a habit of running his mouth if it means building a relationship with someone. His main priority is getting them to sign the contract, and he’ll do whatever it takes, including selling them the dream. ”
“The more I hear about Robert, the more I can’t stand him.”
We sit in silence until the light turns green. She glances at me. “Wanna come over for a little while and keep me company?”
“Sure,” I say, my heart hurting for her.
It doesn’t take long before we’re pulling into her driveway. The lights in her father’s house are on, and we’re sneaking around like we used to when she didn’t want her dad to know I was sleeping over.
We have to be careful because Jerry’s already suspicious. Until he knows the truth, it’d be best if we’re not seen together outside of work.
She sets her purse on the counter. “Today has been weird as hell. I need a strong drink of something.”
“It definitely has.”
When I look around the cottage, I glance at all of her mother’s paintings on the walls. There’s a large canvas of an open field surrounded by a forest with an absolutely stunning use of colors. “She was so talented,” I say as Gemma stands next to me.
“Sometimes when I look at this painting, I imagine myself going through the plush grass and running straight into the forest.” Her voice trails off, and I try to picture what would be beyond the landscape.
I search around the room for a specific painting, but I don’t find it. “Where’s that morning glories watercolor painting?”
Moving into the kitchen, I notice an abstract canvas with bright colors splashed across it—another beautiful one her mother created.
She tilts her head with amusement in her eyes. “You remember that too?”
“Of course. I thought it was in the dining room. Where’d it go?”
A blush hits her cheeks. “I put it in my bedroom. Wanna see it?”
“Sure.” I force down the lump in my throat as she moves toward the hallway, and I follow her. There were many summer days and nights spent tangled together in the sheets of that room.
Leaning against the doorframe, I notice not much has changed in here.
She still has the same headboard and dresser with framed photos of her, Everleigh, and Katie.
I wait until she waves me forward. A pair of panties and bra are crumpled on the floor, and she kicks them to the side. “Sorry. I forgot about those.”
“Not like I haven’t seen them before,” I say with a chuckle, moving closer to the painting. The morning glories are so detailed they almost look real. Bright purple and pink stand out among the green grass. “Wow,” I mutter. “Just as beautiful as I remember.”
“I wish I could paint like her—or rather, I wish my mother was here to teach me,” she confesses.
“You can still learn,” I encourage. “It’s not too late.”
She cocks a brow. “I’ve tried many times, and they look like something a four-year-old made. It’s embarrassing, considering I should have her creative genes, but I obviously don’t. Just imagine if Bob Ross’s son was a terrible painter!”
I laugh. “Is he?”