Julie James - About That Night

Kyle laughed—of course his father had managed to work that in. “Thanks, Dad.”

They each took a sip of the scotch, and then there was a long pause between them.

Grey leaned in. “You know this is the part of the father-son moment where I’m supposed to ask about this Rylann girl, right?”

Kyle set his drink on the ledge and shoved his hands in his pants pockets. “Yep. And now this is the part where I say thank you but that I think I’ve said all I want to say about her tonight. Which will conveniently be followed by the part where a waitress walks up and asks if we’d like anything else to drink, eliminating all further discussion on that topic.”

Just like that, there was a voice from behind them.

“Excuse me, can I get either of you gentlemen something else to drink?”

His father looked over his shoulder, saw the blond waitress standing behind them, and stared at Kyle in astonishment.

Kyle smiled. “I paid her two hundred bucks to come over as soon as I put my hands in my pockets. I knew you and Jordan couldn’t stay out of my business for long.”

ACROSS TOWN, RYLANN sat next to Jon at a wine bar a couple blocks from her apartment. It was the first chance they’d gotten to talk all day. After Kyle had left her standing on her doorstep earlier that morning, she’d unfortunately had no time to wallow in her sorrows. Instead, she’d gone back inside, told Jon that she would call him later, and left to get ready for her grand jury hearing.

Shortly after arriving at the wine bar, Rylann had taken the lead with the conversation. She explained to Jon, in the gentlest of terms, that their relationship was truly, definitely, absolutely over. He listened this time, and though he looked upset and hurt and even a little frustrated, he finally seemed to accept what she was saying.

“So I blew it, then. For good.” He ran his hand over his mouth. “I guess that’s the price I have to pay for being a selfish ass seven months ago.”

Rylann studied him. “Jon, don’t take this the wrong way, but what’s really going on here? I know I should be flattered that you hopped on a plane to try to win me back, but…can I be honest?”

He smiled wryly. “You always are.”

“This whole thing feels more desperate than genuine. You seem kind of lost.”

He swirled his wineglass, saying nothing at first. “I don’t know. I just feel like there’s something missing. Italy was great for the first couple months, but then the excitement wore off. I guess I thought that if you and I could get back what we used to have, at least that part of my life would feel right again.” He looked at her over the glass. “I am sorry, you know. We had a good thing going, and I ruined it.”

It was tempting to let him take all the blame. And, no doubt, he deserved a lot of it. But as Rylann sat there, looking at the man she’d once genuinely believed she wanted to spend the rest of her life with, she realized, for the first time, that she shared a tiny bit of the responsibility for the demise of their relationship as well. “It wasn’t just you, Jon.”

He cocked his head. “What do you mean?”

She sighed. “There was something missing. I don’t think either of us realized it at the time, and frankly, I’m still not sure I can put my finger on it. On the outside we seemed happy, but there had to be something wrong, right? Otherwise, you would’ve never wanted to leave for Italy without me, and I…would’ve tried to make you stay.”

He considered this, then gave her a half smile that was bittersweet. “And we both know how tenacious you can be when you want something.”

She laughed softly, acknowledging that. “Very true.”

They talked for a long time after that, about old times, Italy, and Rylann’s new life in Chicago. Afterward they walked outside and said good-bye on the sidewalk.

“You’re going back to Rome tomorrow, then?” she asked.

Jon nodded. “Temporarily, at least. I took the week off from work, hoping that I’d be spending it with you.” He shrugged. “Maybe now I’ll use the time to figure things out. Decide what I want to do with my life when I grow up.”

“Whatever it is you’re looking for, I hope you find it,” Rylann said in all sincerity. “I want you to be happy.”

“You, too, Ry.” He touched her cheek in good-bye, then climbed into the taxi that would take him back to the hotel he’d checked into for the night.

Rylann stood there on the sidewalk, watching Jon drive off. She remembered a similar day seven months ago, when they’d said good-bye outside the apartment they’d shared in San Francisco. Only that time, the taxi had taken him directly to the airport and to his new life in Italy.

Once the cab disappeared from sight, she walked the few blocks to her apartment, her mind drifting back to everything that had happened that morning. Several weeks ago, she’d told Rae that she’d never once considered going to Rome with Jon because doing so would’ve been crazy, and she didn’t do crazy. But that wasn’t entirely true. These past couple of months, with Kyle, she’d been doing a lot of things that didn’t make the most sense from a practical perspective. For him, she’d been willing to bend the rules, to go against logic, and to simply follow her heart.

And truthfully, that scared her a little.

She’d guessed, from the moment that she’d met Kyle, that he could cause her all sorts of trouble. She’d sensed it from that very first smile. Once they’d reconnected, she’d told herself that she was being careful, that they were just having fun. But these past few weeks had gone way beyond fun and had shown her how truly amazing it could be to have Kyle Rhodes in her life.

Earlier that morning, when he’d made the comment about her being embarrassed to be seen with him, she’d just felt…bad. While the sneaking around had been a little exciting, she knew he deserved better. But she’d been caught off guard when he’d forced her hand on the issue right then and there.

So now it was decision time. She could let Kyle walk out of her life a second time and preserve her perfect reputation as Meth Lab Rylann, the star AUSA who had never taken a misstep at work and who’d fought hard to establish herself as a woman who should be taken seriously in a profession that often failed to do so. Or she could accept that her crown would forever be tarnished, potentially diminish herself in the eyes of her boss and coworkers, and come out of the closet about the fact that she was dating the Twitter Terrorist, her former witness and the most infamous ex-con to be prosecuted by her office in recent history.

Mulling this over, Rylann let herself into her apartment and threw her purse and keys on the kitchen counter. She went to her bedroom and stripped out of the gray skirt suit and heels she’d worn that day. In the closet, she hung up the suit next to the others, the row of black, navy, gray, beige, and brown jackets forming a neat, orderly line. Then, instinctively, her eyes went to the shoe box on the top shelf near the back, the one with Kyle’s flannel shirt. She thought of something she’d said to him that night, right after she’d kissed him.

I thought I’d fly by the seat of my pants for a change.

The only question left was just how far she was willing to take that.

THE NEXT MORNING, Kyle sat at his desk at the downtown office of Rhodes Network Consulting, staring distractedly out the window at the view of the Chicago river.

When his cell phone rang, he blinked and quickly checked the caller ID, quelling a pang of disappointment when he saw that it was Sean.

He answered, and the two of them discussed the following week’s itinerary. Monday was the official start date for all company employees, which currently included Sean, Gil and Troy, two administrative assistants, and a receptionist. Judging from the volume of calls Kyle had already received since the Twitter announcement, however, he doubted they’d be able to operate for long with a six-person team—especially once the Time article came out.

As his father had said last night, from a professional perspective he had indeed turned his life around. And he was proud of those accomplishments. But they did little to ease the dull, empty ache he’d felt since leaving Rylann’s apartment.

He’d pushed her, and in the end he’d gotten the answers he’d needed. Just not the answers he’d wanted.

When his business line rang, another potential client wanting to set up a consultation, he forced himself to stay focused on work. Shortly after he finished the call, his cell phone buzzed with a new text message.

From Rylann.

AT SOME POINT, DIMPLES, DO YOU PLAN TO HAVE ANY ACTUAL CONSULTANTS AT RHODES NETWORK CONSULTING?

It took Kyle a half second, then he got up from his desk. He walked out of his office, going past the empty cubicles and workstations, and turned into the reception area.

Standing there, waiting at the front desk and looking very businesslike in her trench coat and heels, was Rylann.

“I hope you take walk-in appointments,” she said with a smile.

Hmm.

Kyle knew that smile well by now. But Prosecutrix Pierce would not find him so easily charmed this time. She could throw around all her wiles and quips, and flaunt whatever sexy skirt suit she had on underneath that trench coat of hers, and he would remain decidedly immune to all of it.

“How did you find me?” he asked.

“I went to the website for Rhodes Network Consulting and looked up the address,” she said matter-of-factly. “You’d mentioned that you were planning to get a jump on things at the office today.”

He remembered that now; he’d said something about it on Wednesday night, during the limo ride down to Champaign. “How’s your ex?” he asked dryly.

Rylann shrugged. “Okay, I guess. All things considered. He’s currently on a plane back to Rome, trying to decide what he wants to do with his life.” She looked him over. “You look tired.”

“I didn’t sleep well last night.”

She nodded, then shifted awkwardly. “Do you think we could go to your office and talk? I feel strange standing here by the reception desk.”

Kyle paused, thinking about that, then gestured behind him. “Follow me.”

They said nothing as they walked back to his office—probably the longest the two of them had ever gone without speaking. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her checking everything out.

“The place looks great,” she said when they got to his office. “How much did you have to change before moving in?”

He leaned against his desk and shoved his hands in his pockets, not exactly in the mood to make idle chitchat. “Why did you come here, Rylann?”

She reached into the pocket of her trench coat and pulled something out. “To give you this.”

When Kyle saw that it was his watch, his heart sank. And here he’d been hoping…well, obviously it didn’t matter now.

“You forgot it, again, when you left my apartment yesterday morning,” she said.

Kyle took the watch from her and slid it onto his wrist. “Thanks for returning it.”

She held his gaze meaningfully. “And I also came here to tell you that you’re wrong.” She stepped closer. “I do want to be with you, Kyle. More than anything.”

He remained motionless. “I’m waiting for the ‘but.’ “

She shook her head. “No ‘but’ this time. I’m in, all the way.” She took a deep breath. “I’m going to tell Cameron about us this afternoon.”

In so many ways that was exactly what Kyle had wanted to hear. But he remembered her hesitation yesterday all too clearly. “Rylann, I’m crazy about you—you know that.” He held her gaze, laying it on the line. “But if we do this, I worry that one day you’ll regret it. And that would kill me.”

“I won’t regret it,” she said. “I promise.”

“You say that now, but what about later?”

Suddenly, to his utter surprise, tears sprang to her eyes.

“I will never, ever regret stopping you from walking out of my life a second time, Kyle,” she said in an emotional voice. “And I can prove it.” She reached for the buttons on her trench coat and undid them, one at a time. Then she opened the coat and let it drop to the floor.

And even if she didn’t say a single word more, Kyle knew he would never again doubt the way Rylann felt about him.

She was wearing his flannel shirt.

“You kept it,” he said softly. “All this time.”

She nodded. “For nine years, I’ve held on to this darn shirt, literally dragging it across the country and back.”