Chapter 20
CHAPTER
Tara
One Year Ago
“I WOULDN’T TRUST LUKE Sideris if my life depended on it.
” Tara adjusted her tablet in the stand on her dressing table, grateful for the chance to video chat with Jordyn before her meeting with the attorney her father had recommended.
She ran an eyebrow brush through her lashes to separate them. “Why do you ask?”
She’d already put in a long day at the studio with Sophie, the air between them thick with tension as she tried not to recall their uncomfortable exchange at the Witch Walk.
Sophie hadn’t come out and accused her of anything inappropriate with Luke, but the implication had hung between them like a shadow all during the work day.
Because of that new tension, Tara had no intention of confronting Sophie about The Clean Break partnership agreement without some counsel from a professional.
Fortunately, Arnie had agreed to stop by her house to hammer out the details of an agreement that he would submit to Sophie on her behalf.
“Why do I ask?” Jordyn repeated, staring at Tara like she had two heads.
“I guess because I was under the impression you liked him well enough. I thought maybe he could be a go-between for you and Sophie instead of you having to request her signature through legal channels. That’s the whole reason you’re meeting this lawyer tonight, right? ”
On her end of the call, Jordyn sat in her pickup truck in a strip mall parking lot.
A few businesses were visible in the background including something called “Third Eye Tattoos” and an herbalist with a storefront window covered in painted flowers.
Jordyn sipped from a stainless steel to-go cup, the blue exterior covered in decals of anime characters and stickers of farm animals.
Tara felt a surge of affection for her foster sister who’d pulled off the road to fully focus on their conversation.
With Tara’s life in Saratoga Springs falling apart more every day, having somebody she could really count on meant the world to her.
What might her life have been like if she’d recalled Jordyn sooner?
“That’s true. The short answer is, yes, I used to like Luke well enough,” Tara admitted, hedging a bit as she wondered just how much to impart.
She hated to be that friend who was needy all the time, and she’d already dumped the Sophie situation into Jordyn’s lap.
She would save the full-blown Luke story for another time.
For now, she shared just one crucial fact.
“I recently learned he’s not the loyal husband after all.
It’s tough to trust a guy who isn’t forthright with his own spouse. ”
“Statistics show that’s over half the population,” said Jordyn, ever the cynic.
Tara didn’t consider herself cynical so much as wary.
“I would actually consider myself fortunate if I could trust even half the people in my life.” She searched her makeup drawer for a lip pencil she didn’t need to use a sharpener on.
She could only imagine her mother’s horrified reaction to Tara’s metric for choosing a lip color.
“Even my mom is keeping secrets from me.”
“It seems like things are getting complicated there,” Jordyn observed, adjusting the visor in the vintage pickup truck.
The movement cast her face in shadow. “You should consider another visit here to decompress. Or we could meet up somewhere between Saratoga and Austin. We could find a fun halfway point and have a friend weekend.”
“That sounds really nice. Any other time, I’d be tempted to take you up on that.
” Tara blotted the lip liner. She wasn’t normally super careful about her appearance, but right now it felt like one thing she could control in a world that seemed to be careening toward disaster.
She couldn’t have said why she had a nagging feeling of doom recently, but the sensation had been growing the last two weeks.
“I’m a little hesitant to quit my therapy sessions right now, though.
I feel like I’m close to a breakthrough. ”
“As in you’re close to finding out what caused the dissociative amnesia?”
Tara realized Jordyn was the only person outside of her family who knew about her scrambled memories of the past. Because her parents had asked her not to contact anyone from her past or share her foster care experiences with her friends, Tara had only ever offered the simplest of adoption stories to people who asked about her past. Of course, that had been easier after the dissociative incident cast such a heavy cloud over much that followed.
But now that she recalled that period of time, it seemed strange that no one else knew about it except for Jordyn.
Everything she’d recalled about her time in the foster home had been reasonably good.
Sure, there’d been the occasional issue with a rough-around-the-edges kid, but Jordyn had always been by her side, sticking up for her.
Assuring her she had a friend in her corner.
It hadn’t been the scary place that Lauren had allowed her to believe.
“I might be.” Giving up on her makeup attempts, Tara shut the top drawer of her vanity and tucked one leg under the other to make herself more comfortable.
She was better off confronting her problems head-on rather than facing them with the social mask in place.
“When our last session ended, I felt close to capturing a memory but my therapist doesn’t want to rush the process.
She says it’s important for me to have the tools to cope with whatever we uncover, so we’re taking it slowly. ”
“That makes sense. I briefly worked with a mental health counselor who used EMDR therapy with me, and I found it really helpful.”
Surprised to hear Jordyn’s easy familiarity with the eye movement desensitization and reprocessing technique, Tara couldn’t recall if she’d shared that’s what her own therapist had been using to help her manage whatever trauma had caused the dissociation.
“You’ve never mentioned being in counseling before.”
“My high school guidance office referred me for some free services a long time ago. Because I found it helpful, I’ve gone back every now and again, if I start feeling overwhelmed.”
The vague response told her that Jordyn probably had no desire to speak about whatever personal demons she battled. Which Tara very much respected.
“I hope you know that if you ever want to talk, I’m here for you too.
” Tara cringed as she heard the words, realizing that it might sound like she was angling to hear more about something Jordyn didn’t want to share.
“Sorry that came out wrong. I just mean, I hope you think of me as part of your friend network.”
Jordyn smiled as she settled her decal-covered travel mug into the truck console’s cupholder. “I knew what you meant. Although you aren’t really a part of my friend network so much as the network itself. As in, you’re it.”
That fit with her girlhood memories of Jordyn too.
She had never seemed like the sort of person who needed a lot of confidantes in her life.
Tara had been the sum total of people close to her back then as well.
Maybe that had to do with Jordyn’s parents dying young and leaving her to navigate foster care alone.
Or maybe the tendency to be a loner was just Jordyn’s innate personality.
“What about Ezra?” Tara asked, curious about their relationship.
Jordyn’s live-in boyfriend had struck Tara as nice enough, but their personalities seemed like polar opposites. Ezra, the quiet numbers guy who drove a Texas-sized pickup truck, and Jordyn, the artsy graphic designer who’d tattooed her own skin with thousands of little cuts.
“I guess I’ve never mastered the art of turning a romantic relationship into a deeper bond. Have you?”
Something about the question, sincere and meaningful, underscored how different her rapport with Jordyn was from the other connections Tara had in her life. Despite the outward trappings of friendship she had with the book club, maybe her real friend network ran to just one person too.
“I suppose not,” she replied, thinking of the handful of guys she’d allowed close to her over the years. “Do you think some of that is due to our experiences as orphans? You used to say the fewer people who are close to you, the fewer people there are to hurt you.”
“Oh, yikes.” Frowning, Jordyn shook her head. “Sorry if I heaped my own baggage on you back then.”
“You didn’t.” Tara would have said more, but downstairs the doorbell rang. Arnie, the attorney her father recommended, must be here. Standing, she removed the tablet from its stand. “It was actually really good advice for that time period in my life when I needed to grow an extra layer of skin.”
For that matter, maybe the advice was even more relevant now. She’d allowed too many people to get close to her, and she was paying a high price with companions who didn’t have good intentions toward her.
Knowing what Sophie had done—dressing up like Tara to go out with another friend’s husband in a mistaken belief that Tara had slept with Luke—still stunned her.
“Will you do me a favor and think about taking another trip here? Or meeting somewhere in between your place and mine?” Jordyn asked. “You might be glad for an outlet if you end up having that breakthrough in therapy.”
Tara switched on the light over the stairway leading down to the foyer as she prepared to meet with the lawyer about the partnership agreement.
“I’ll definitely give it some thought,” she agreed. “But the attorney my father recommended is at the door now, so I’ll check in with you soon.”
Disconnecting the call, she took a deep breath, preparing to discuss business. To craft a detailed partnership agreement for the future of The Clean Break.
But when she pulled open the front door, the visitor standing in the gathering dusk was not the lawyer.
At least, he sure didn’t match up with the photo image that had been posted for Arnie on the legal firm’s website.
The picture had shown a slim, distinguished-looking older gentleman with silvering temples.
Instead, a tall, athletic-looking man stood on the step, his unruly curls still dark.
He had muscles on top of muscles, apparent even through the canvas field coat he wore open over a white dress shirt.
Despite his strong features and heavy eyebrows, there was something boyishly attractive about his ready smile.
“Tara Hughes?” The man glanced backward over his shoulder, almost as if he thought someone else might be out in the shadowed driveway. Watching them.
“Yes, I’m Tara.” She wished she hadn’t opened the door to a total stranger. Especially not one who looked strong enough to murder her and bury her body with one arm tied behind his back.
“Mark Ribeki.” He thrust his hand out for her to shake. “I did The Clean Break podcast a few months ago. It’s nice to finally meet you in person.”
The cheating football player? The same one whose fans had voted for him to receive the lion’s share of assets when he split with his ex-wife, Evangeline?
What the hell was he doing here?
“I’m sorry. I don’t understand—”
“Would you mind if I come in?” He peered over his shoulder once more, his expression turning agitated. “There’s something I really need to talk to you about.”