Need You Tonight

SIX





Tessa cupped her hand over the mouthpiece of her phone, hoping no one in the office would hear her conversation. “Doug, I better have read this email wrong.”

Her ex-husband made a dismissive grunt. “Having trouble reading now? Maybe I should’ve used smaller words.”

F*cking bastard. Tessa gripped her phone, trying to keep her seething response from slipping out. Last thing she needed was for her current boss to send a complaint to the temp agency for an unhinged receptionist yelling at her ex-husband in front of the whole office. “Look, I get that we hate each other. Whatever. But are you really so heartless that you’ll let innocent kids suffer just to get back at me?”

He sniffed. “Always so dramatic. This is merely a business decision and nothing else. That charity was your pet project, not mine, and it’s a cash sieve.”

“It’s called nonprofit for a reason, Doug.” Jackass.

“If it’s such a worthy cause, you should be able to find other donors. I’m done keeping it afloat with my church’s money. I told the congregation to pick a new charity to focus on this year.”

“Doug, please, don’t do this.” She hated the plea in her voice, but all she could think about were the kids at Bluebonnet Place who would lose services and the employees who’d lose their jobs. She’d started the project five years ago when Doug had told her she should get more involved in his church’s outreach activities to look good to the congregation. She’d had no desire to put on more of a show at church than she already did, so she’d asked for seed money to start a charity instead. Looking back over her years with Doug, it was the one thing she could be proud of. Even though it was her ex’s money that had funded it, she’d poured her guts into the project, determined to help foster kids who were aging out of the system. She was all too familiar with how it felt to be staring down eighteen with no family behind you, few job skills, and limited funds to better your education.

But now the whole thing was going to be drained dry and abandoned if the cash wasn’t there to support it. After the divorce, she’d given the lion’s share of her divorce settlement money to Bluebonnet. God knows she’d had no desire to live off Doug’s handouts for another second and wanted to put them to good use. But even with that donation, she knew the charity only had enough cash to make it to the end of the year.

“Tessa, if you had thought this through better, you wouldn’t have left me in the first place and wouldn’t have to worry about this, so don’t try to lay some guilt trip on me. This is your doing. Your decision.”

She ran a hand through her hair, gripping a few strands tight against her scalp, trying to keep her composure while her mind was screaming, You self-centered piece of shit. You cheated! You! I didn’t do this.

“Doug, you know I’m not going to be able to get this much money in time to keep it going. Can’t you wait to pull funding in six months? We can make a big to-do of how you’re contributing despite our differences and give you all the credit. The press will love it.” She loathed her supplicating tone but knew that’s what got him off—beating her down and winning.

He snorted. “The press? You mean the same press you spilled lies to after the divorce? You know how much of my congregation I’ve lost because of the shit you spread about me? I’m still repairing that damage.”

“I only told them the truth. I can’t help how they relayed it. And I had to do something after you put rumors out there that I was some pill-popping tramp who strayed on you.”

“Right. Because you were an angel. Gabriel was just lying about you meeting him mornings in the guest house. I should’ve known then and let you have someone on the side to degrade yourself with. You always did like to slum it.”

Her nails dug into her palm. That story again. She knew damn well Doug had either paid her former personal trainer money or blackmailed him to go to the press and fabricate some story about her. It had to have been something big because before that, Gabriel had been a friend to her, keeping her company and making her laugh during those often lonely days. The guy was probably going to graduate school on a full ride now, courtesy of her ex-husband.

“Good-bye, Doug.”

“Hold on,” he said, right as she was about to pull the phone from her ear. “I do have one way I may consider giving you the funds you need.”

Her gut knotted at his tone, but she forced herself to stay on the phone. She knew whatever he was going to propose would be something she didn’t like, but she was willing to do a lot to keep those kids at Bluebonnet from losing funding. “And what’s that?”

She could almost feel his viper grin over the phone. “I would need you to beg, darling. Get on those pretty knees and tell me how you can’t get through without me. That I was right. Then, you’d need to go to the press, admit to your affair with Gabriel and your emotional problems, and tell them that I was a good husband who took care of you.”

Her lunch almost came up at the image, the bitter taste burning the back of her throat. “F*ck you.”

He laughed. “I’ll take that as you considering the option. Try it your way first if you’d like. I’m sure raising a few hundred grand on your own between those dead-end jobs you’re doing will be easy as pie. You know where to find me when that flops.”

The dial tone buzzed in her ear—harsh and final. Round three thousand and four to the snake. It seemed like every time she went to battle with Doug, he ended up with the last word and the smile. She hung up the phone and rubbed a hand over her face, all the starch draining out of her.


“Everything okay, Vanessa?”

She looked up. It was on the tip of her tongue to correct the guy on her name, but frankly, she didn’t remember his either. She’d gone on so many assignments for the temp agency in the past few months that they were all starting to blend together. “I’m fine. What can I help you with?”

He dropped a small voice recorder on her desk. “I’ve dictated a report that I’d like you to type up for me. I’ll need it before I leave today.”

“Sure. I’ll get right to it,” she said with practiced enthusiasm even though she’d never typed from dictation before.

After a quick nod, he strode off and she tucked the earbuds into her ears without hitting Play. The office hummed around her as she sat there at her borrowed desk, watching people moving back and forth with their tasks, chatting with co-workers and catching up from the weekend. No one had asked her how her weekend had been. No one cared. She was a stranger. No one knew that she’d had the best sex of her life on Friday night and had passed out from a fire. No one knew that she’d slipped out of the hospital before Van could get there because she couldn’t trust herself to turn him down. No one knew that her ex-husband had just ripped one final rug out from under her. And no one knew that the fate of an entire charity and at least a hundred kids was now resting on her very unqualified shoulders.

She was simply the temp filling in for a beloved co-worker who was on maternity leave.

Part of her relished the anonymity of it. She’d hated the spotlight she’d been under in her marriage as the TV pastor’s wife. But sometimes she couldn’t help feeling the loneliness of it now. Besides Sam, she had no one here. No roots. No friends. Not even co-workers she could get to know. She’d hoped to find a more permanent job by now, but the market was tough for entry-level positions and though she was taking night classes, she didn’t have the fancy experience to put on a resume yet.

Hell, maybe she should’ve just stayed with Doug. They could’ve lived their separate lives in the same house and pretended to still be together in public. She’d known couples who’d done that. She could’ve put all her effort into charity work and not had to worry about if she’d have enough money for the gas bill or if that noise outside at night was some criminal in her not-so-desirable neighborhood trying to break in.

But then she’d have to look at Doug’s smug face every day. I told you so. I told you that you couldn’t survive on your own.

Screw that. She shook her head, disgusted that’d she’d even entertained the thought. Another day in that house with Doug and she’d probably be sitting in a jail for attempted murder. Her life now may not be posh or flashy, but at least she could wake up every day knowing that everything she had was hers and hers alone. No one was paying her way. No one owned her.

She’d figure out some way to help her charity. Even if it meant she’d have to go door-to-door to ask for donations. She would not fail those kids. And she’d be damned if she’d give her ex-husband the satisfaction of seeing her beg.

With renewed resolve, she turned toward her computer, hit the Play button on the voice recorder, and started typing.





“You know, I’m not some crazed stalker,” Kade said, tucking his hands in the pockets of his slacks and trying to look as harmless as possible.

Sam, the raven-haired girl he’d given Tessa’s keys to on Friday night leaned against the doorway and arched her pierced brow. “Which is exactly what a crazed stalker would say.”

He smirked. “Good point. Can you at least tell me how I can get in touch with Tessa?”

“How did you even find me, stalker guy?” she asked, a glint in her eyes.

He could tell she was enjoying torturing him and not truly threatened by his unexpected visit. Somehow he doubted this girl was afraid of much. She was cute as a pixie but he sensed she was all scrappy badass beneath that sweet smile. He pulled a piece of paper from his pocket. “Your name and address were on the event list.”

“You stole private documents? Now you’re admitting to your criminal behavior. That is the first step to recovery.”

Damn, maybe this girl was a dominatrix on the side because she wasn’t giving him an inch. “Look, Sam, I know you’re going to be loyal and protective of your friend. I respect that. But after the fire, they took Tessa to the hospital, and I got held up by the police. By the time I got there, she was gone. I’d like to make sure that she’s okay. And when the fire broke out, we were in the middle of a conversation I’d like to finish.”

She sighed. “Yeah, I’ve got a feeling what kind of conversation you’re talking about. But listen, she’s fine. No permanent damage from the fire. And as for the other thing, she left before talking to you for a reason. She’s not looking to start up something with anyone. You were just a checkbox on her list, a one-time thing. Be glad. Isn’t that every guy’s dream? No strings or obligation to call the next day.”

He started to respond to the question but then his mind snagged on the other part. “Wait, what do you mean, I was a checkbox on her list?”

She groaned and put her hand to the door, swinging it toward him. “Good-bye, stalker guy.”

“Sam—” But the door was already clicking shut.

F*ck.

Sam wasn’t going to budge. Plan B time. He headed down the hallway of the apartment building and pulled his phone from his pocket. As usual, his assistant, Maile, answered on the first ring. “What’s up, boss?”

“Are you at your desk?”

“Chained to it, as always. I work for a slave driver, you know.”

He snorted. “My sympathies. Whatever you’re working on right now, put it on the side. I need you to dig up as much information as you can find on a woman named Tessa McAllen, birthdate October third, same year as me.”

How he still remembered Tessa’s birthday was a wonder, but it was there, seared on his brain like some permanent brand.

“What is this regarding? Is she a new business contact?” Maile asked, slipping into professional mode.

“No, this is a personal matter. Any information you find should remain confidential.”

There was a pause on the other line. “Wait, is this about the fire? The police were here this afternoon, looking to talk to you again. Boss, no offense, but you shouldn’t be doing your own investigating. If someone—”

“This isn’t about that.” Not directly at least. A detective had called him earlier today to inform him that they now suspected arson instead of an accidental fire. Kade knew they’d be searching for Tessa to get a statement, and he’d at least like to warn her before she got dragged into it. But, of course, if he said he was only seeking her out for that reason, he’d be a damn liar. “I need this information ASAP. I’ll be back in the office this afternoon.”

“You got it,” Maile said, hanging up without a good-bye. He loved that the woman was pure, no-frills efficiency. He had no doubt she was already on task before the phone settled in its cradle. He’d probably know when Tessa’s first baby tooth fell out by the end of the day.

And sure enough, a few hours later, Kade was sitting at his desk with a pile of printed documents in front of him. Maile pointed at the stack, indicating the colored sticky tabs she’d added to certain pages. “I labeled basic stats with green. But the gist is she doesn’t live far from here, has been working for a temp agency, and has no family in the area. Also, no criminal record.”

“Okay.”

“Work history’s labeled with blue. Not much info there. Though, she is the founder of a local charity. Gossip has the yellow tabs. Lots of that available.”

“Gossip?” he asked, glancing up from the top page, which held Tessa’s address and a newspaper photo of her in a party dress.

Maile pushed her black bob behind her ears and frowned. “Apparently, she was married to a pastor of one of those big time mega-churches in Atlanta up until a year ago. Pretty high-profile guy, Sunday sermons were broadcast on regional television, that kind of thing. The divorce made the society pages since they were a prominent couple in the area. Looks like things got nasty. Each accused the other of infidelity. She didn’t say much more than that publicly but the husband had lots to say. He accused her of being a pill popper, a gold digger, a cheater, and said she shirked her godly and wifely duties . . .”

“Wifely duties? What the f*ck?”

“That’s what I’m saying. That line alone made me want to find this guy so I could kick him in his junk. Nothing was substantiated from what I can tell. And apparently this Marilyn Wallace, the reporter who penned most of the negative stories, used to be Tessa’s close friend, so that’s pretty interesting that she’d turn on her so quickly. My guess is she had some added motivation to write up the stories. But regardless, it looks like the society pages ate the shit up. The pastor’s reputation got dinged pretty good. People left his church, and he almost lost the TV slot. But looks like after some damage control, he was able to hold on to his contract and convince his congregation to give him the benefit of the doubt. She wasn’t so lucky. The press labeled her the washed up, pampered ice princess and called it a Cinderella story gone bad. Apparently, she didn’t come from money.”


No. She didn’t come from anything, Kade thought, an old sadness welling up. And he knew beyond a doubt that Tessa would have never popped pills. Tess’s birthmother had abandoned her because of drugs. In high school, Tess hadn’t even liked taking over-the-counter medicine, so that part was definitely bullshit and lies. He skimmed through a few of the documents. “Who was the guy?”

Maile flipped through the pages on her steno pad. “Um, something Barrett. Hold up, I wrote it down.”

But Kade already knew the rest of the answer, a bitter, icy cold moving through him. “Douglas Barrett.”

“Yeah, that’s it,” she said.

Kade sat back in his chair, feeling like a truck had rolled right over him. Douglas Barrett. It’d been a name he’d tried to block out of his memory completely, one that dragged him back to years he never wanted to revisit. Doug f*cking Barrett. God, Tessa had gone through with it. She’d married that sociopath anyway. And had stayed with him all those years. She’d known what Doug had done that night—well, enough of what he’d done—and had still given herself to him.

For the security. The money.

Things Kade hadn’t been able to offer her.

“Boss, you okay?” Maile asked, her brows pinched together. “You don’t look so great.”

He rubbed his eyes and took a long, deep breath, doing his best to shove the past back to where it belonged. He was beyond all that. He would not let one drop of that leak in. All he was interested in was learning more about who Tess was now. “I’m all right. Anything else I should know?”

Maile pulled a paper from the bottom of the pile and slid it his way. “Last year, her charity applied to be the sponsored organization for our annual Dine and Donate event. We didn’t select them since we were focusing on homelessness last year. But they’re on the consideration list for this year since we’re planning to choose a charity focused on children.”

He perused the application in front of him. It’d been filled out by the director of Bluebonnet Place but under the founder column was Tessa’s married name. Even seeing Doug’s last name sitting next to hers made his stomach want to heave. But an idea was already forming in his head, lifting his mood a bit. “Are we close to selecting an organization yet?”

Maile sighed. “No, with Evelyn on medical leave, we don’t have anyone heading up things right now. I think PR is looking to hire someone from the outside to handle it.”

Kade smiled and pushed the application back toward Maile. “Please call the charity director and tell her we’re considering the organization, but that I insist on meeting with the founder to find out more about their work first.”

Maile narrowed her eyes, evaluating him like his grandmother did that first night he’d shown up on her doorstep. “Kade Vandergriff.”

“What?” he asked, feigning innocence.

“You have that scheming look on your face. What are you up to?”

“Me? I’m just trying to get more involved in my company’s charitable contributions.”

Maile shook her head and looked to the ceiling. “Lord, help us all. Kade’s got his eye on a woman.”

“Aww, you know you’re the only girl for me, Mai,” he teased as she rose from her chair.

She glanced back over her shoulder and stuck out her tongue. “Eww boys, gross.”

He chuckled. “I don’t blame you. I’ve seen your girlfriend. I wouldn’t leave her for me, either.”

She smirked. “So who is this Tessa McAllen to you, really?”

He leaned forward, bracing his forearms on his desk and looking at the photo of Tessa again. “Guess we’re about to find out.”