CHAPTER 45 Tatum Barker
Sold My Dream
“Where are you going?” Ford asks as I wheel my suitcase by him toward the front door after the wedding.
He rises to a stand from the couch where he’s watching basketball highlights.
“Chicago.”
“Tonight? We just got home. You’re exhausted. Take a night, get some rest, and we’ll regroup in the morning.”
I shake my head. “I’m going tonight.”
“Okay. I’ll go with you.”
I shake my head again. “I’m going alone.”
“Oh. Can I ask why?”
I blow out a breath. “I’m angry, and when I’m angry, I just need some space. In the past, I’ve run to you, as you well know, but I can’t do that this time. I just need a few days.”
“Is this…are you…um—are we—” he stutters.
I hold up a hand. “I just need a break, Ford. I need to figure some things out for myself.”
“What things?” he asks quietly.
“Us. If I’m always going to wonder if you’re keeping things from me. And not just us, but me. The direction I want to take my business.”
“I can help you figure those things out,” he offers.
I shake my head. “I need to do this alone. We jumped into this so quickly, and I just need some time. Okay?”
He presses his lips together as he reluctantly nods. “For what it’s worth, I’m willing to fight.”
My gaze turns down to the floor. “I will keep that in mind.”
He closes the gap between us and slides his arm around my waist. He hauls me to him, and he holds me. He’s trembling a little, and his voice is filled with emotion as he says, “We’re better off together, Tate. Please give me another chance to prove to you how much I believe in you.”
“I’ll take it all into consideration,” I say briskly, not trusting myself to sink into his arms the way I really want to.
His lips move to my neck, and I close my eyes for a beat as I fight the urge to give in.
I force myself to back away. “I need to go. I have a flight to catch.”
“Of course,” he says quietly, and he lets me go until he doesn’t. “Wait,” he says. “Don’t go. Let’s work this out. Fight with me, Tate.” He’s begging.
I twist my lips. “You believe that you’re right, and I believe that I am.
To you, there’s no emotional connection.
To me, there was. You’re too logical to see that.
Neither of us is willing to bend on what we believe.
If we do, we’re betraying ourselves. So I just need a bit of time away.
Okay? I’m hoping this time away might give us both enough perspective to pick up where we left off. ”
He sighs as I walk out the front door without another word. Moments later, I slip into the Uber I ordered to take me to the airport.
I check my inbox on my phone on the way.
It’s all organized now, and the only things I have to read are some new client inquiries about touring Winston Manor.
I reply with calendar invitations a few weeks from now.
I’ll be back by then, at least for these meetings, or maybe by then I will have hired someone who can help me out with these sorts of things.
A little before midnight, I check into my hotel. I lie down since it’s been a long day, but I feel restless.
I pull up the website for commercial-based properties on my phone and start looking for potential venues. I find one in the West Loop, an old church that looks to have been converted into an event center with six separate event spaces.
Damn. Six spaces. The idea of holding not one, or even two…but six events all at the same time is a tad overwhelming.
But with the right people in place, I can make anything happen.
While I’m here, I might as well tour the place. I click the message button to get in touch with the realtor and put in my request for tomorrow. It’s worth a shot.
Against my better judgment, I pull up the Bradley Mansion again, too, and I look through the pictures. The listing still says it’s accepting backups.
I should’ve been more insistent. I should’ve given Ford a plan before it was too late.
I just got caught up with Winston Manor and our own wedding and Lindsay and Devon…
all of it. It was my continual chaos that landed me right here, I’m afraid.
I couldn’t get my own shit together enough to present a valid plan to Ford to save that place for me.
I blow out a breath, and then, since I’m up, I look through some venues available in Vegas, too…because why the hell not? It doesn’t hurt to look.
I spend the next few days burying myself in work.
Ford is giving me the space I asked for, checking in via text message a few times a day but not calling me.
In some ways, that makes it feel like an actual adult relationship.
He’s giving me what I requested, no matter how hard that is for him.
Or he’s making up for keeping something else from me.
That’s still something I’ll just have to get over.
I have dinner with my brother, Layla, and Maddox one night, and I book a flight out to Vegas to check on things there and see if I can find any event spaces. I’ve searched online a bit, but everything I’ve found is either too industrial or it’s an old hotel. I don’t want to own a hotel.
But I know people in Vegas. It’s where I built my business. I’ll find someone who can help me find a place, and things will magically fall into place. They always do.
Right?
But Vegas…it’s a tougher market. It’s a travel destination, sure, but how do I make my venue stand out among all the other venues in town? The hotels, the chapels—the quickie weddings Vegas is known for. From extravagant and luxurious to cheap and cheesy, they already exist there.
Maybe I shouldn’t pick Vegas as one of my cornerstones.
Man, these Bradley boys have really done a number on me if I’m sitting here doubting myself. It’s not like me.
I blow out a breath as I board the plane to Vegas.
It was home for the last five years, and even though I’ve already let Archer go, I’m not quite ready to let this city go.
Ford texts just after I buckle into my seat.
Ford: Checking in. How are you today?
Me: I’m okay. On my way to Vegas.
He doesn’t reply, and I don’t either.
I miss him. I miss Tampa. I miss what we built there. I miss being his partner and his teammate.
I miss his friendship.
I want to go back in time to when he got the offer. I want him to discuss it with me like two married adults should do.
Yes, it was his mansion to do with what he wished, but his siblings didn’t want him to sell. I didn’t want him to sell. After he started helping me out with my business…I guess I got overly excited. I really thought we were going to find some way to team up on it like we did with Winston Manor.
I sweep those thoughts behind me. No sense in dwelling on it now.
Instead, I stare out the little airplane window as day turns to night and contemplate whether I can move past all that so we can get back to where we were.