Lost in Us Read online

  “I’m looking for Ryan Stone’s office.”

  His gaze turns sharp and now I have no doubt he’s looking at me as if I’m some sort of psycho. I may have ignored Ryan’s career move, but I do know he’s the youngest general manager in baseball history and he’s single – a prize to any woman looking for that better fish in the sea. I should know. I caught him. Twice.

  “Mr. Stone is a very busy man,” he says with a thick Boston accent. It’s always amazed me how different the dialects are from New York to Boston. We’re so close, only a few hundred miles separating us, yet we’re so different.

  “I have no doubt, but I need to see him. Is there someone I can talk to that may be able to call him?”

  “You don’t have his number?” he asks a very valid question. Yes, I have his number, but I’m hoping for the element of surprise. My ideal situation puts me in the general vicinity of his office where I can be announced and he can’t run from me. Cell phones can be ignored and calls sent to voicemail. I don’t want to give him that option.

  I pull my phone out of my purse and wave it at him. I contemplate giving him my story, telling him who I am, but my status was never important to Ryan. He never once asked me to sing the National Anthem at one of the games or asked me to donate to a charity dinner. I gladly held his arm at many, but was always introduced as Hadley Carter, fiancée. I know that I can tell this man who I am and use a sentence like, “shall I have my publicist call Mr. Stone’s secretary”, but that doesn’t accomplish what I’m here to do.

  I take a deep breath and prepare for this old man’s eyes to widen. Clearing my throat, I square my shoulders and grin. “I’m Mr. Stone’s ex-fiancée. I’m passing through town, and I thought I’d surprise him.”

  His eyes do in fact widen, and it’s neither a good nor bad thing. He either realizes who I am from the tabloids or maybe from Ryan, but I doubt the latter. Ryan was never a gossip, especially about us. Dylan was though, and I’m sure she still is. However, most people know who I am. I’ve been around long enough to make some type of impact on one’s memory. Or it’s a bad sign. I said the words ‘ex-fiancée’ and this man knows nothing about me.

  “May I see some ID?” he asks, shuffling his feet forward.

  I appease him by pulling out my wallet and opening it for him. His eyes widen again and he steps back. “If you walk down this way, take a left and head up the escalator, you’ll find his office is about half way down the hall on the left-hand side. Someone should be able to buzz you in.”

  “Thank you very much,” I say with as much gratitude as I can muster. Knowing that I’m close and about to see him, my heart is pounding through my chest.

  “My granddaughter loves your music, Miss Carter.”

  His words warm me and I reach into my bag and pull out a piece of paper. “What’s her name?”

  “Sylvia,” he replies as I write out a note to her, telling her that she has a wonderful grandfather. I hand it him and his eyes glass over.

  “Thank you so much.”

  “Do you have a phone?”

  He nods and pulls it out of his pocket. I reach for it and step close to him, putting my arm around him. We smile for the epic fan selfie and I can feel the excitement coming from him. If I had to guess, he’s around major league ball players every day, but he’s excited to be standing next to me.

  “There ya go, now you can show Sylvia.”

  “Thank you again,” he graciously says, staring at his phone.

  “You’re welcome, and thank you for the directions.” Without waiting for his reply, I speedily walk in the direction he’s sent me. I hurry up the escalator and down the hall until I see his office. He’s done so well for himself, and I wish I could say I had a part in it. I didn’t. I could’ve had a part in his failure, but he was stronger than me. He always has been.

  I try the door out of habit and am surprised to find it open. The heart pounding that I was experiencing downstairs is nothing like what’s going on now. A shortness of breath over takes me as I step in. It’s quiet and the carpeted floor muffles my shoes. There are three offices and one grand reception desk that’s currently empty. Two of the offices have closed doors and one is open. I take my chance and hope that this is Ryan’s office.

  Walking to the last office on the left, I catch a glimpse of the ball field. Yes, of course this would be his office; he is, after all, the boss. I hear faint voices the closer I get and hope that I’m not interrupting him in a meeting. If I am, I resolve myself to sit in reception and wait for him to finish. Now that I’m here and he’s this close, I’m not leaving until I speak with him. He may not have much to say, but I do.

  I step into his doorway and immediately feel like I’m being hit by a truck. His arms are wrapped around a woman, a brunette. She’s the complete opposite of me. She leans in, kissing him and he kisses her back. My hand clutches the doorjamb as my breathing intensifies. We’ve been broken up a year and he’s already moved on. I haven’t even thought about another person except for him, let alone entertain the idea of moving on. I can’t because I’m still in love with him. When I close my eyes at night, he’s all I see.

  My options are limited. I can walk back to reception, take a seat and wait patiently, or I can stand tall and act like what I’m seeing doesn’t affect me, regardless of the pain that’s ricocheting through me right now.

  I clear my throat and they break apart. Ryan’s eyes go wide, but his hands don’t move from her waist. She turns and looks at me, a soft smile spreading across her lips. Does she know about me? She leans forward and places a kiss on his cheek before removing herself from his arms. He’s frozen in place, his eyes locked on mine.

  The woman passes me, smiling again as she walks out of the room. If I were she, I probably would’ve brushed my shoulder against hers, but she doesn’t and that makes her the better person. I’m seeing nothing but green right now. The jealousy and rage I’m feeling is circumventing my ability to talk and move.

  Ryan rests against the back of his chair, his hand covering his mouth. Is he wiping away the kisses he just shared hoping that there’s no evidence or that I didn’t see them? I could yell and scream, show how hurt I am, but we aren’t together. I have no right, but damn it if my heart isn’t breaking all over again.

  “What are you doing here, Hadley?”

  In a million years, I never thought I’d find Hadley Carter standing in my doorway with the fakest smile I’ve ever seen pasted across her face. Yet, here she is, pretending to be as cordial as ever, when I know deep inside her the jealousy is raging. I have to give Jessica credit. She knew the moment that Hadley cleared her throat that we needed privacy, although I wouldn’t have faulted her for staying either. She has every right to. She and I are together and trying to build a relationship. I think some women would benefit from Jessica’s confidence in this situation. I would assume if guys were more honest with their feelings, their lives might be a bit less complicated. Lucky for me, Jessica knew about my relationship and break-up and was there to lend an ear. I’m the one who made the first move.

  Hadley’s hands are clutched together, making me curious if it’s out of anger or nervousness. I’m wondering if there’s some new TV reality show filming awkward reunions standing behind her waiting to bust in the room and shove a microphone in my face. I wouldn’t put it past her to sign up for some show like that. She’s a junkie when it comes to reality TV, but I would like to think that she has more respect for me and our past than to do something like that.

  I lean back in my chair and cover my mouth to… what? Stifle a groan? Hide the shock? Either reaction to Hadley standing in my doorway is possible. My back is rigid as the tension in my body starts to take over. It’s three hours before game time and the guys will be taking to the field for batting practice. I don’t need to be there, but I like to watch. I like knowing that everything’s being taken seriously. It’s hard to instill authority when you’re as young or younger than most of the team.

&nbs
p; “What do you want, Hadley?” My words are terse, causing her to step back slightly. I don’t know how I feel with her here. Why is she here? Why didn’t she just call? I try to recall whether or not I know her schedule or when it was that I stopped caring. I can’t answer that. I look her up. I follow her. Hell, I’m probably a stalker in most peoples’ eyes. It’s a morbid curiosity that I have.

  For the longest time, I didn’t know anything about her. I didn’t want to. Dylan helped by keeping me away from the tabloids, and we were always so busy that we never watched television. Once Hadley and I got back together, I knew not to read the tabloids even though they were good to her. Of course, we were front-page news for a bit, but that quickly died down. Neither of us were party-goers. We were boring to them, and that was just fine with us.

  Yet, they still think we’re together or maybe they don’t and just don’t care. It’s not like Jessica and I have a media draw, and Hadley’s been on tour. I suppose if someone were following me, they’d be splashing my philandering all over the media. Either that or Hadley’s publicist is making sure none of it gets out until the tour is over, and I’m painted as the bad guy who broke the heart of America’s Sweetheart.

  If only they knew.

  The ring I gave her glimmers with sunlight shining through my window. I try not to gaze at the sparkler, but I can’t help myself. I was so proud the day I purchased that diamond for her. I couldn’t wait to slip it onto her finger. Dylan begged me not to. She pleaded with me to change my mind, but I didn’t listen. I thought we’d get married, have a few kids and live a peaceful, yet exciting life. Boy was I wrong.

  I clear my throat and swivel my chair toward the window. I can’t look at her for fear that she’ll cry or bat her eyelashes, and I’ll go running. She looks amazing, better than before she left for her tour. Not seeing her for the last year has done a number on my memories.

  “I had to see you.” Her normally sweet voice is barely audible. I bring my hand to my head, rubbing my temple and forehead. The impending headache will likely be a killer and will either make or break my night.

  “Why? It’s only been a year,” I state matter-of-factly. I know she knows this, but I can’t help but get the jab in. It was so easy for her to quit on us, as if we never meant anything to each other.

  “That’s why I’m here.”

  From the corner of my eye I see her cautious steps into my office. I move slightly and watch her take in my office. I wanted her here when I started, but she was too busy. Always busy. My life never took precedence over her busy schedule.

  “You have a nice office, Ryan. I never…” her voice trails off leaving me to wonder what she was going to say. She never what, thought I’d amount to anything? Didn’t think I could make it on my own without her in my life? I clench my fist to curb the anger boiling inside of me. This conversation should’ve happened a year ago. She should’ve been here when the break-up happened, talking to me.

  “Hadley, I’m going to ask you again, why are you here?” This time I turn and look at her, and it’s a huge mistake. The urge to pull her into my arms is so great, but I can’t act on it. I know she’ll fall into my arms and let me hold her, but that’s not fair to Jessica. I could never betray her like that.

  Hadley walks toward me, her perfume growing stronger. I close my eyes and will away the images in my head, except they don’t go anywhere. They play out like a Ryan and Hadley movie on rewind, and I can’t find the stop button. When I open my eyes, she’s sitting across from me with her legs crossed and her hands clasped in her lap. She’s ever the professional, and I’m falling apart here. I should be the strong one. I had to be when a decision had to be made about us. But looking at her now, she’s the persona of someone who’s confident and put together. She’s on a mission and if I had to guess, it’s to win me back.

  “Ryan, I’m going to just blurt everything out. I’m assuming by the people working down on the field that it’s game day so I’ll be quick.” Hadley pushes down her skirt, not that it moves one single solitary inch because I’m watching it like a hawk, but the gesture’s there nonetheless. She looks at me, tilting her head until we make eye contact. Her smile is wide, and my face is pensive. I don’t think I could smile if I wanted to right now.

  She clears her throat and continues. “I should’ve done this a long time ago. I don’t know if it was my pride, or utter shallowness that has kept me away, but I make no excuses. I have failed you and us one too many times and judging by what I walked in on, I know I’m too late. I don’t deserve a second chance and I’m not here to ask for one, but I’d like to be friends. We never really had a friendship if you think about it. We met when you were so young, and I was completely smitten with you. It was a combination of romance, lust and hiding. You were my dirty little secret for the longest time. When you walked back into my life, we were given another chance, but it was right back to where we had left off that fateful night in the rental car. We never had a chance to be just friends, and I’d like that.”

  Her words stun me, and I hate that she’s right. Dylan and I were friends before we crossed the line and are still friends, best friends at that. Hadley and I have only known each other as lovers. But I’m not sure I can do this with Hadley. I love her. Those feelings don’t go away. I don’t know what I’d do if she casually brushed against me, or put her hand on my arm to laugh at a joke. Those are all things that Dylan does and they have no effect on me, but if Hadley did touch me, I’d crumble.

  “I don’t know, Hadley,” I push out the words even though I don’t want to. “Being your friend right now will be hard. You’re on tour, and I live here. What are you going to do, come visit me when you get a chance and act like nothing’s wrong? We broke up. I ended our five-year relationship, and it’s taken you a year to come and find me.” I’m growing angrier by the minute and know that I need to calm down, but I can’t. Standing up, I turn my attention to the window and look out onto the field. Guys are starting to warm-up, preparing for tonight’s game.

  “It’s been a year and now you show up asking to be friends only because you saw that I’m with someone else? If you hadn’t seen her, what would you be asking me? For a chance to get back together?”

  “Ryan, I didn’t come here to fight.”

  “Then why are you here?” I blast as I turn back to face her. She jumps slightly at my tone. “Why have you shown up after all this time? You don’t call, text or even write, not that you did when we were together, and now you randomly show up in my office without warning?”

  Hadley chokes back a sob, and it pains me to know that my telling her some home truth has caused her to cry. She shakes her head and wipes fiercely at her tears. “I miss you, that’s why. I know it’s a shitty excuse because I’ve been on tour, but it’s all I have. After my show last night, everything just hit me. I’m alone and lost. Everything I had was gone, and I did it. I ruined everything because I don’t know how to compromise.”

  I walk back to my desk, running my hand through my hair. Neither Hadley nor I had the ideal childhood. Hers was performance after performance and mine was trying to survive until I was old enough to move out. We grew up so differently, yet in so many ways we were the same, both searching for acceptance. Everything that I have, I’ve had to work for. Hadley, yes she’s worked, but now everyone caters to her needs.

  “Maybe you should call me when you’re not on tour. We can’t be friends for a night or two and then you disappear again. I can’t do that.” My voice is quiet and unsure.

  “My tour’s done. I cancelled my remaining shows.”

  My eyes find hers quickly, and I realize that I’ve just opened the door for her to waltz right back into my life. That’s something I can’t let happen.

  The words were out of my mouth before I could stop them. By the look in his eyes, he wasn’t expecting me to say that. Now I have to do the unthinkable, the unforgivable and cancel. I can’t go back on tour now that I’ve told Ryan it’s done. It’s not going t
o be easy and there’s going to be press. Carrie, my manager, isn’t going to be happy. This is not me. I don’t do things like this, but Ryan is important to me. Our relationship – or lack thereof – is important. The last thing I want is for people to know that Ryan and I aren’t together. I’ve worked hard to keep up this ruse and I can’t let a slip of the tongue burst my bubble. Unbeknownst to Ryan, I’ve just unleashed a whole slew of drama for him, and he’s not going to like that.

  I break his penetrating gaze and look out the window. There are people walking through the stands, but from where I sit, they look like blobs just moving aimlessly, or zombies preparing to overtake the colony. I like the zombie analogy better. They can come get me and put me out of my misery. Someone’s going to need to.

  “How long have you been dating?” It’s not a question I want to ask, but I need to know. The thought of dating never crossed my mind. I look down at my ring finger and move my engagement ring back and forth. Maybe if I had taken this off, dating wouldn’t seem like such a foreign concept to me.

  Ryan sighs heavily. He clears his throat, gathering my attention. When I look at him, I see confusion and hurt. His eyes aren’t smiling, and his forehead is creased. I did this to him. The right thing to do would be to get up and leave, to forget that I was even here. I could stand and slip off my ring, place it on his desk and leave, but I’m not strong enough for a grand gesture like that.

  “Hadley… I,” he stops and rubs his face roughly with his hand. I want to reach out and pull his hand away and tell him that everything will be okay, that we’ll be okay, but I don’t even believe that myself. Once again, if I want Ryan, I’ll be competing with another woman. First Dylan, and now this new one. Maybe that’s my sign to step away.

  “Her name’s Jessica,” he informs me without making eye contact. He picks something up off his desk, a paperclip I’m guessing, and starts to fiddle with it. “We’ve been dating for about six months.” Ryan leans back in his chair and looks at me. “I didn’t plan for it to happen; it just did. She’s the owner’s daughter, and we we’re spending a lot of time together because we’re close in age. She showed me around Boston and was my shoulder to cry on.”