The Lost Tycoon

Chapter Nine

Misty sat in the backseat of the SUV and listened to Bryson and Camden shoot the breeze as they drove from Camden’s offices to a small country bar and grill. She was glad they weren’t expecting her to talk, because she didn’t think she’d be capable of it right then.

The experience had drained her. It was so much harder than she’d imagined to lay this story out on the table again. She’d learned Jesse’s character only too well while living with him, but after talking about it, voicing what he’d done to her, how many times he’d violated her, and in how many ways, she had no idea how she’d survived as long as she had.

No matter how despicable the person, Misty never delighted in the end of anyone’s life, or even by the idea of it, but she had to admit that if Jesse were to die, she’d sleep a lot better at night. Sure, she felt guilty, but she wouldn’t take the thought back. She considered him the incarnation of evil, and, yeah, she wished him dead.

She felt raw and exposed as she huddled against the leather seat during the ride down the dark road. The two men had chosen a restaurant outside town; was it so she could have time to collect herself? She doubted it would come to them as a big surprise if she had a complete breakdown.


But Misty was stronger than they gave her credit for. No, they hadn’t put her down or made her feel like a weak woman, but she knew her eyes were hollow, knew her body was shaky, knew the signs of a meltdown were all there. But Jesse hadn’t broken her down back then, and he certainly wasn’t going to do it now. She’d had a will to survive. Somehow. And she still did. More now than ever before.

Would Bryson think differently of her now? Of course, that was almost a stupid question, because she really had no clue what he’d thought of her before she’d told her ugly tale. She knew she was developing feelings for him, but wasn’t it more of a white-knight complex? He was there to save her, a quintessential damsel in distress, from the evil dragon. When this was over, one way or another, she was sure these strange feelings would go away — this need for him to be nearby would evaporate.

If Misty had felt nothing for Bryson — no attraction, no thoughts, no…lust — then she could have dealt with the situation far more easily. And anyway, because she was so torn up, so ragged, so raw, could she trust her feelings at all? Maybe she was attracted to him because that was easier to handle than thinking about her ex and the horrendous things he’d done to her.

Maybe she was projecting her emotions. And getting them all muddled up.

What would it be like to be in a relationship with a man like Bryson? Did he just seem like a white knight now, but when he got close to a woman, did he turn into a monster? How did two people find each other and live happily together? She knew those existed — they had to, or why would babies still be born? Why would anyone marry? There had to be happy endings out there. Maybe she just wasn’t one of the lucky ones.

She hadn’t even been given a family, the one thing she wanted more than anything else. No. Instead, she got to walk this world alone. That had to be why she was having fantasies about a life with Bryson. He was the first man ever to be kind to her. Still, it was his job; it wasn’t about her at all.

Bryson had it all already. A family. Friends he loved and respected. For all she knew, he could have someone special in his life now. Maybe the way their eyes connected was just a part of his job. It made more sense than that he might actually be attracted to her. Because, having it all, Bryson certainly didn’t need her.

Their lives were just so different. If he disappeared tomorrow, there would be a manhunt for him. He would be missed by his family, by his friends, by the ones he protected. That was something that would never happen with her. She had disappeared for an entire year, and Bryson had come looking for her only because he needed her to testify. If she hadn’t been mixed up with Jesse, she could have walked off into the night without a single soul the wiser. A single soul who gave a damn.

Of course, if she hadn’t known Jesse, she wouldn’t have needed to disappear. But then again, where had her life been going? Nowhere. She was working a dead-end job, living in a ghastly apartment, and she had no friends, no purpose.

How long until she just naturally faded away on her own? Anger filled her as these thoughts flitted through her mind. Okay, so she’d been abandoned as a baby, but that didn’t make her worthless. Everybody deserved a chance to shine. Perhaps she just hadn’t found her moment yet.

“Are you doing all right back there?” Bryson asked.

She blinked, and it took a moment to realize he was speaking to her. Her emotions were already whirling, and the gentle tone of his voice, the concern in his shadowed eyes as he looked back at her, made it even worse. She’d given her deposition. Why did he even care how she was feeling? It made no sense.

Just as the attraction she felt toward him made no sense.

When she finally spoke — “I’m fine” — her voice came out scratchy, raw, exposed, just like her, as she struggled to subdue the violent tears threatening to erupt.

He twisted around in his seat, then reached back and carefully laid his hand on her knee, squeezing gently. “We’re almost there. I should have sat in the back with you.”

“No. I promise, I’m all right.” She wanted him to stop before she gave in and let out the full explosion brewing inside her.

His eyes told her he didn’t believe her, but at least he released her knee and turned forward again. She slumped against the backseat and closed her eyes as she took in several deep, cleansing breaths.

If she wasn’t careful, she’d think she was falling in love with this stranger. Logically, she knew it couldn’t be real. She didn’t know him, and he certainly didn’t know her, or know anything about her beyond what she’d said today. And that wasn’t pretty.

She tried to be smart, tried to explain to herself what she was feeling, but it was beyond her. All she could wonder was this: what was she doing even thinking that another man was attractive, especially after reliving her past with Jesse? Surely most women would never contemplate entering another relationship after the trauma she’d been through. But most women weren’t as lonely as she’d been most of her life.

And most guys didn’t show as much compassion as Bryson had shown toward her. It was all for the testimony, she forced herself to remember — or was it? Sometimes it seemed like more. It seemed as if he actually cared. But that was foolish, wasn’t it?

The SUV stopped, and Misty quickly tucked away her thoughts, telling herself that everything was fine, that this had been a hard day. Now they were going to enjoy a friendly meal, and then she’d go to her room and sleep.

The next day, they’d head back home, and that was the last she’d see of Bryson until the trial. There was no way she was going to analyze how much that thought bothered her.

If she never saw Bryson again, she would never experience his lips against hers. She despised herself for it, but it seemed almost the only thing on her mind of late. When she recalled how his eyes had blazed in anger over what Jesse had done to her, she found herself wanting to wrap her arms around Bryson, wanting to thank him, wanting to feel his kiss. She knew it wasn’t about his touch — just the idea of a man’s touch terrified her — but it was about a connection, about actually feeling something other than fear when in the presence of a man. And Bryson inspired no fear, except maybe of her bizarre feelings for him.

Her door opened and there he was standing in front of her, looking so incredibly handsome. “Madam,” he said with a flourish, and after a moment, she smiled shyly, his over-the-top goofy grin driving away the dark thoughts she’d been having.

She was stunned into silence by his sudden flirtatiousness. Her eyes surveyed the scene, noting that Camden was leaning against the car, not saying a word. Wasn’t Bryson’s behavior a little unprofessional? Her emotions were so raw, she didn’t know what to do, so she sat there dumbfounded.

When the silence dragged on, his teasing expression vanished; he held out a hand and said in a more even tone. “Please, may I escort you to dinner?”

“Thank you,” she murmured, taking his hand and stepping down from the SUV.

Just his touch sent fire zinging through her veins. She was out of control right now, and she didn’t know how to rein herself back in. Her only salvation was that he couldn’t hear her thoughts, didn’t know what was going on in her head, or realize that her heart was pounding as he gripped her hand.

Misty knew she should tug her fingers away, but they felt so warm and secure tucked against Bryson’s that she couldn’t.

She was in deeper trouble than she’d realized. She wasn’t just falling for this guy; she was falling hard. When she finally hit the ground, she’d be lucky not to shatter into a million pieces.

They walked through the front doors, and Misty was immediately charmed. Though the building hadn’t looked large from the outside, it was surprisingly roomy once they stepped through the doors, and it sported log furniture and red-and-white checked tablecloths. Various rodeo pictures hung on the wall, along with several signed photographs from country music stars. A band was setting up on the stage.

“A lot of musicians come through here,” Camden said. “Some of them well-known. It’s a local secret.”

“How can you keep it a secret if it’s someone famous?”

“Because the people of the town treat the bands like neighbors instead of celebrities, and they get to play a gig at a place like one they may have started at. We get a treat of great music, and they get to be regular guys and gals for the day. They never say when they’re coming, and our people never leak it out once they’re here.”

“That’s pretty neat. I’d never have thought this the type of place to attract a big musician. I mean, it’s nice, of course.” She didn’t want to put his choice of bar down. “It’s just kind of small and out of the way.”

“That’s what makes it so great,” Bryson jumped in. He’d been coming to the place for years.

“Hi, Camden,” said a woman as she approached. “You picked a great night to come in.”

“Hey, Alyssa. Can we get my favorite table tonight?”

“Of course you can. If someone was there, I’d just make them move.” She threw him a flirtatious smile, then turned toward Bryson and Misty. “It’s been a while, Bryson,” she said, stepping right up and throwing her arms around him.


“Sorry about that, Alyssa,” he told her, genuine affection shining in his eyes.

“Well, just don’t let it happen again. You go and get all busy with the FBI and forget all about us in the backwoods.”

“If I recall correctly, Alyssa, you had a hankering for the big-city life, doing cover shoots all over the world,” he countered.

“Yeah, yeah, that went real well.”

“You did great. I found that cover from your fitness magazine, and no one has ever done that rag such justice.”

“It was short-lived, but I sure grew up.” Something had obviously happened to hurt her during that time.

“Some people never get to live — just remember that,” Camden said, his words hitting Misty like a loaded shotgun. “But we’re being rude. This is a friend.” He paused, making sure to get her name right. “Magnolia.”

Misty was taken aback when Alyssa gave her a hug. “Any friend of the boys is a friend of mine,” the woman said with a genuine smile.

“It’s great to meet you,” Misty replied, her throat suddenly tight. How would it feel to make friends so easily, to have a real friend to share with? She feared she’d never know.

“We need to quit standing in the doorway gabbing,” Alyssa said, and she led the way to a nice corner table in the back of the room.

Misty noticed only about six other people in the place.

“The special is Doc’s meat loaf and loaded mashed potatoes with a heaping side of grilled asparagus,” Alyssa said as she started to write on her pad. After the men ordered, she looked at Misty and waited.

“Um, that sounds good.” There was no way Misty could eat that much food, but the guys had automatically chosen the special, and her leftovers would be good the next day, and possibly the day after that.

“Do you like your drinks virgin or with a bite?” Alyssa asked Misty.

“Um…with a bite,” she said hesitantly, expecting to get a list of choices.

“I’ll bring out your salads and drinks,” Alyssa said instead, and then left.

“We didn’t order drinks,” Misty said to the guys.

“Sorry, darling,” Bryson said. “We’re both so used to coming here. Alyssa knows our drinks. Plus, first-timers always get a free special drink. You’ll love it.”

Misty shrugged, though the use of an endearment dropping so easily from his tongue made her tingle a bit. “When in Rome…”

Alyssa brought out the drinks and the boys were right — hers was exceptional. It had a tangy, zestful flavor, and before she knew it, the first one was gone and another one was in its place. Within half an hour, her worries were pushed back to the farthest reaches of her mind, and she was laughing softly as Camden and Bryson told old “war stories” about the bar.

“Did you grow up here, too, Bryson?” she asked, her eyes slightly droopy, but her body relaxed. She munched happily on her dinner salad.

“Yes. Born and raised.” He tipped an imaginary cowboy hat.

“Is your family here?”

“Yep. You know about my little sister. She is hell on wheels, literally. She races dirt bikes, and gives me a heart attack every single time she goes on one of those tracks. The stunts she pulls — criminy. I don’t think I’ll live to be an old man.”

Misty loved that he was an overprotective big brother. What would her life have been had she been raised with a brother? That is, if Damien really existed other than as a name scribbled on a piece of paper.

“And then I have an older brother. He’s a good man, the fire chief here, actually. He’s done it all, including firefighting in NYC. He finally got sick of the big city and came home a few years ago. My mom and dad, who still live here, were happy to get one of their kids home. I’m in and out, but gone a lot for work. They keep hoping I’ll eventually take a field office job and stay here. I haven’t found a reason to yet,” he said, and then looked into her eyes.

Was he saying she could be a reason? It had to be the alcohol buzz in her head, because there was no way a man would change his plans for her. She just wasn’t the type of woman for whom men would jump through hoops. If only…

“Then there’s my grandmother,” Bryson said with a groan.

“Is she okay?” Misty asked, making both Camden and Bryson laugh. “I don’t get it.”

“Sorry. You’d have to meet the woman. She’s in her late sixties, I think. Well, I can’t get anyone to tell me her actual age, but whatever age she is, it hasn’t slowed her down even the tiniest bit. The poor sheriff has even had to arrest her and her best friend, Bethel, for disturbing the peace.”

“Really?” Misty really, really wanted to meet this woman.

“Yes, really,” Camden said. “The poor sheriff is seventy now, and he gave both ladies a stern lecture, but they didn’t care. They’re recapturing their youth or something.”

“Yeah, I was surprised Cam’s dad wasn’t with them as a partner in crime. The three are pretty close,” Bryson added.

“Your grandma and his dad?” Misty was more confused.

“Yeah, my dad is older,” Cam said, “and Bryson’s grandma had his mom when she was quite young, so they’re close in age.”

“Oh, I wasn’t saying anything bad…”

“Don’t worry. We didn’t take it that way,” Camden reassured her.

“Do your parents get upset when things like that happen? The arrest, I mean.” Misty found it so nice to sit back and hear about their families. Jealousy was sitting there with her, but not the ugly kind. She just wondered what it would have been like to have her own stories like this to tell.

“Hell, no,” Bryson replied. “They think it’s great that grandma is having fun. The more she lives life, the longer she’ll be in this world. I wouldn’t be surprised if my parents join the terrible trio in a few years.”

“I think the sheriff will definitely retire if that happens,” Camden told them.

“Considering he would never be able to draw his weapon in a shootout, that may be his wisest choice,” Bryson said.

“Yeah, I don’t think Big Blue — his gun — has been shot in over twenty years,” Cam said.

“I’m sure there are cobwebs in the barrel, maybe even a few spiders’ nests.”

The men continued to banter back and forth until there was a tapping noise from the microphone. Then someone spoke. “Good evening, everyone. I hope you don’t mind if I play a few songs.”

The fork stopped halfway to Misty’s mouth, and her eyes nearly popped out of her head once she turned and looked up at the stage. Her heart was pounding.

“Uh, Mis…Magnolia, are you okay?”

She heard the words through a tunnel. This couldn’t be happening. Things like this didn’t happen to her. Not her. This kind of thing was for lucky people.

“Are you choking, honey?” Alyssa was patting her back.

“F…fi…fine,” Misty managed to stutter.

“Aw, don’t worry, boys. She’s just a bit starstruck. It happens to the best of us.” Alyssa laughed and walked away.

Misty barely heard her.

She also didn’t notice the tilting of Bryson’s eyes as he gazed at her, not entirely amused at her complete absorption with the stage.

“I can make anybody pretty…” Brad Paisley began singing his hit song “Alcohol,” and Misty didn’t hear another word from her male companions. She was fully focused on Paisley as he ran smoothly through a couple of songs. Alyssa set down Misty’s meal, and it went untouched.

When Brad jumped into “Two People Fell in Love,” Misty sighed. All the trauma from her deposition earlier in the day was forgotten as she drank in one of her all-time favorite singers. When he began a guitar solo, she just leaned back and enjoyed.

“Thanks, all. I’m going to try that meat loaf now,” Brad called out through the microphone, then hopped down from the stage, and Misty’s eyes grew round as he made his way to their table.

“Hi, Camden, Bryson. It’s been a while.” The singer pulled out a chair and turned it around before he sat, leaning against the back of it.

“Yes, it has been. It’s good to see you. How are the wife and kids?” Camden asked, after they all shook hands.

“Kim and the boys are great. I’m on my way home tonight and had to stop in here. This tour is kicking my ass. I’m definitely missing the family.”

“Yeah, I wouldn’t know how that is, since I don’t have any rug rats waking me at six in the morning,” Camden said with a laugh. “Oh, this is our friend, Magnolia.”

“Good to meet you, Magnolia. You have a beautiful name,” Brad said, sticking out his hand.

She didn’t know how she did it, but her arm magically lifted and then her fingers were encased in his. “H…hi,” she managed to say without too much of a stutter. She was sitting at the same table with Brad Paisley! She’d just been introduced to him! They’d shaken hands! And everyone was treating it as if it were no big deal.

“Here’s your food, Brad,” Alyssa said, and she handed him a bag.


“Thanks, gorgeous.” The star took the bag and then stood. “Hope to see you boys again soon. You keep promising to come out in the summer.”

“Hey, the invite goes both ways, Brad.” Bryson said.

“Aw, hell, Bryson, your daddy just wants me down here so his ornery horse can buck me off again.”

“Coward,” Camden said with a laugh.

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll talk to you soon.”

And then Misty just sat and stared as he walked from the room. She could now die and say she’d lived her dreams.

“Are you still in there, sweetie?” Alyssa asked with a knowing laugh.

“I…wow,” Misty said.

“Don’t worry, darling. I had the same reaction the first dozen times Brad and a few others walked through those doors. Now, I’m used to it. What you have to remember is they’re just like you and me,” she said before pausing. “Okay, maybe not just like us. He does have one killer ass.”

“Thanks, Alyssa,” Bryson practically growled. The last thing he wanted Misty thinking about was another man’s ass.

“No problem, sugar,” she said with a wink. “Here are some boxes for your leftovers, which looks like Misty’s entire meal. I don’t think I ate at all the night Blake Shelton came in. I actually cried when he got married.”

“Aren’t you just so helpful,” Bryson said with a glare.

“I do what I can,” she told him before sashaying away.

“Are you ready?” Camden asked, a persistent smirk attached to his face.

Without another word, Misty stood up, gathered her belongings and moved toward the door. This night had been…fun. She hadn’t expected to enjoy herself, hadn’t expected to have a good time. She’d assumed that she’d just be sitting there listening to the two friends talk.

Not having fun didn’t bother her — it was the story of her life. And when she didn’t expect anything good, her hopes were never dashed.

But she had ended up having one of the best nights of her life. Oh, who was she fooling? Certainly not herself. It had been the best night of her life. She floated back to the car.

The drive back to the hotel was punctuated with very little conversation. Camden turned on the radio and she sat back and absorbed the lyrics. Music had always been a solace for her, a way to sink into another world. She could pretend she was the woman the singer was speaking so fondly about, or she was the hero who got to win the day. She could be anyone she wanted to be through music or books.

It was an escape — a desperately needed escape.

When they arrived at the hotel, she clambered out of the SUV quickly before Bryson could open her door for her. She’d be able to take the gentlemanly thing for only so long before she ended up in a heap at his feet. He walked her silently to her door.

She took out her key card. “You don’t need to walk me here. I’m fine.”

“I just want to make sure the room is all clear,” he said, giving her barely nine inches of personal space.

“No one knows where I am,” she said as the door opened.

He stepped inside. “Better safe than sorry.”

“But you’re going to make Camden wait. Aren’t you going back to his place?”

“No. I’m staying right next door.” His words gave her all sorts of new butterflies. They were going to be only a wall apart. Eeek!

“All clear,” she said, her voice high.

“Yes, it is,” he agreed, suddenly far too close, his body heat seeming to radiate right on up to her and then begin a low-pressure tornado, growing hotter and hotter each time it swirled around her form.

Oh, my, he smelled good. The only men’s cologne she could recall before this night was Jesse’s, and it had made her gag. Whatever Bryson was wearing was spicy and woodsy and pure male.

“I should leave now,” he said, but he leaned just a little closer.

Oh, she wanted the kiss, wanted to close the distance between them more than she wanted her next breath — more than she wanted to wake up the next morning.

What were they talking about again? Misty was at a complete loss. “Yes…it’s…been a…uh…nice night.”

“You are testing every good intention I’ve ever had,” Bryson told her as he cupped her cheek in the palm of his large hand.

She didn’t know what he meant by that and she certainly couldn’t speak and ask him to clarify. They stood motionless for several drawn-out seconds, just looking into each other’s eyes. It was the most intimate moment she’d ever had, and she felt things building inside her that she couldn’t even describe.

“This case needs to end,” he muttered. He released her face and took a step back, then a few more.

Without another word, he walked out through her door, securely shutting it behind him. Misty staggered a couple of steps backward, then sagged onto her bed, thankful it was there to catch her. Seeing the covers beneath her brought to reality how close a bed had been to the two of them while Bryson had been looking deep into her eyes. Would she have protested if he’d leaned in and kissed her, if he had lifted his hands and…?

She doubted it. And that was more frightening than any other thought she’d had the whole evening.