Rise - Part Two (Rise #2)(2)

He scratches the back of his head before pulling his hand through his hair. "You left them? You left your keys here?"

I glance down at the sidewalk. I feel faintly embarrassed that something trivial pulled me back into his building so late at night. "I came back to get them. I tried to call you."

His eyes fall to where my smartphone is nestled snuggly in my palm. I'm still holding tightly to it as though it's a life preserver keeping me afloat in an ocean of uncertainty. He clears his throat running his hand along his neck as he does. "There are police all over my place, Tess. I don't want you to go back up there. I'll get the doorman to run up to get your keys."

I'm grateful that in the midst of what has to be one of the most emotional nights of his life, he's thinking of my feelings. I don't need the buffer of the rude doorman though. "I can go get them. It's not a big deal."

His eyes scan my face. I can't tell what, if anything, he's hoping to find in my expression. I feel as though I stepped into a suspended reality that I don't belong in. Landon Beckett is my lover. Our connection hasn't moved beyond a few stolen moments in his bed, and a brief sharing of the heartbreak of our pasts.

I wasn't supposed to see him standing next to his father when those elevator doors opened. It's not my place to demand that he explain exactly how long he's known that his dad didn't drown during that fishing trip when he was a teenager. Right now, the only thing I truly want is my apartment keys so I can go home, rest in the silence of my bedroom, and hope that sleep finds me quickly.

"Mr. Beckett?"

Landon's head follows the sound of the voice as he looks to the left at one of the detectives who had drawn their weapons just as the elevator doors opened. I turn towards the man too and realize that in all of my infinite and na?ve wisdom, I had labeled him as another overworked and exhausted businessman who had stopped for a few drinks after leaving the office. I couldn't have known when he and his partner had approached me from behind in the lobby of Landon's building, while I waited patiently for the elevator that everything would change so dramatically.

"Yes?" Landon asks tentatively. "What do you need?"

"I take it you don't want to ride in the same car as your father?" He jerks his head to the side towards the black sedan.

I glance down at the shaded windows of the car. Even though I saw Frederick as he stood in the elevator, I crave another glimpse of him. It may be genuine curiosity, or perhaps it's just reassurance that my eyes weren't playing tricks on me. I just wish I hadn't looked away as quickly as I did. The resemblance between Landon and Frederick is unmistakable and even if their births weren't separated by a generation, there would be absolutely no question that they are father and son.

"I want nothing to do with the man." Landon's gaze moves from me to the policeman. "Can I come in tomorrow morning and give my statement?"

"We need it tonight." He gestures towards a marked police car that is blocking the crosswalk. "I'll have that officer bring you downtown. I appreciate you doing this, Sir."

I don't wait for Landon to say another word. I grab hold of his hand, cradle it in my mine and look up into his face. "I'll get my keys and go home. You'll call me tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow," he repeats back before he brushes his lips softly across mine.

I stand silently in place until he's in the police car and it pulls away from the curb to fall in traffic behind the sedan that contains the long lost Frederick Beckett.





Chapter 2


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"Tess."

The unexpected sound of someone saying my name causes me to involuntarily reach for the edge of my desk to steady my stance. I don't mind the occasional surprise, but today everything that falls even slightly out of my daily routine feels like a life-altering bombshell.

I had to bite my tongue to stop myself from saying something I'd quickly regret to the barista at the café down the street when I ordered a cup of herbal tea on my way to my office this morning. She decided that today would be the day she'd introduce her own blend of loose tea leaves. I'm all for adventure but the concoction she brewed up tasted more like old trash than a calming breakfast beverage.

My day didn't get any better when I picked up a copy of every newspaper on display at the bodega outside my building. The man working there took it upon himself to share his opinion on the outcome of an apparently important baseball game last night. I stared at him blankly, unsure whether he mistook me for a big sports fan or whether he was trying, in a very obtuse way, to pick me up. I had my answer when I turned to walk away and he asked for my number. I cursed under my breath, not because I was offended by his interest but because I'd inadvertently given him a five dollar tip when I didn't wait for my change.

"Tess," Lilly says my name louder this time. "What's wrong with you? You look like you've seen a ghost."

Technically it was a dead man, but I'm not an expert on past life semantics.

"It wasn't a ghost," I pause before I qualify the statement. "I mean, you just surprised me. I didn't know you were coming to my office."

"I left you a message." Her hand waves above my desk towards where my smartphone is resting on the stack of already read newspapers. "Are you planning on painting?"