He unconsciously rubbed his chest, trying to get rid of the dull pang he got every time he thought of her, which was something he found himself doing constantly. Dylan hated the way things ended between them. That was what upset him. Or so he insisted on telling himself. He wasn’t upset because things ended. After all, he didn’t do long-term relationships. He kept them to a maximum of two months. If he counted the time they spent together in Newport, theirs had already hit the one-month mark.
The fact that he hurt her was what bothered him. It had never been his intention to get involved with her. At least not as anything more than friendly acquaintances.
I really screwed up this time. Dylan figured that was actually a major understatement. Not only had he gotten involved with her, he’d gotten himself in deep. He’d let himself become emotionally, as well as physically, involved, which was something he hadn’t done since Francesca.
Francesca. There was someone he didn’t think about too often.
They’d been engaged, but thankfully, he’d learned of her true nature months before the wedding. Not only had she been after his money and connections, which was bad enough, but she’d also been sleeping with one of his old college buddies. He’d actually caught them together one night in her apartment. She’d tried to blame him for her indiscretion by complaining that he worked too much. She’d insisted it never would have happened if he spent more time with her and less time at work. She’d even had the audacity to promise it would never happen again, if he just spent less time at the office.
Callie isn’t Francesca. The fact that they were both women was the only thing they had in common. She deserved better than the way things ended between them. He’d tried calling to explain again. She hadn’t answered. He’d left a short message. She hadn’t called back, and he hadn’t tried again.
Let it go. Even if she did forgive me, then what? How much longer would our relationship have lasted anyway? It wasn’t as if he planned on getting married. So things would end anyway. Did it really matter if they ended now or later?
Deep down, he suspected there was another question lurking. What if their relationship didn’t end at all? Disgusted with himself, Dylan switched off the television and opted for some classic heavy metal music. He’d never been the type to sit and mull over his emotions, and he didn’t plan on starting now.
The lyrics to his favorite Metallica song filled his media room, but they did nothing to distract him from his thoughts. Instead, they reminded him of the night he and Callie ate ice cream while listening to music in her apartment. Surprisingly, they liked much of the same music. Not many women he knew enjoyed classic and hard rock.
Then again, they had a lot in common despite their different backgrounds. It was just another reason why he enjoyed spending time with her. Not that it mattered now.
“Damn it.” He punched the arm of the couch. “I need to get over this.” Whatever had been between them was over. Finished.
Turning the music off, he headed to his bedroom to change. Perhaps an hour or so in his home gym would help. If nothing else, maybe it would tire him out enough that he would sleep tonight. He’d had trouble doing that every night since the fundraiser. Every time he tried, visions of Callie in her kitchen came back to haunt him. The hurt and betrayal on her face were permanently burned into his memory.
She was the one who refused to listen. I tried to explain things to her. He tore off the polo shirt he was wearing as anger toward Callie burst through him. It was the first time he’d felt that emotion toward her. If she really cared, wouldn’t she have let him explain? Wouldn’t she have at least returned his phone call or text message?
Almost as quickly as the emotion came on, it disappeared. Who was he kidding? She had every right to respond the way she did. I wouldn’t have even opened the door that night. Probably would’ve called the police instead and had them escort me away.
***
Had it really only been a few days since Warren’s announcement? It felt like a lifetime ago. Both her cell phone and house phone seemed to be constantly ringing. Even her uncle was getting phone calls. People at the summer camp were continually asking her questions. Television and newspaper reporters were camped out across from her apartment. And Neil, her bodyguard, constantly followed her. It seemed like the guy never slept. She wasn’t sure how much more she could take. Already, she’d reconsidered Warren’s offer to come stay in Newport until things died down a bit. At first, she’d thought he was exaggerating about how crazy things might get, so she’d turned down the offer. Now though, she was seriously thinking about going for a little while.
A knock at the door sent Lucky barking through the tiny kitchen.
“It’s me,” Lauren called from the other side.
A friendly face. Callie unlocked the door. Lauren was one of the few people who wasn’t treating her differently these days.
She immediately handed Callie a copy of The Star Report. “Have you seen this yet?”
Unlike the cover of Celebrity magazine that she’d seen in the grocery store, which had one picture of her and one of Warren on the cover, this one just had a picture of her the night of the fundraiser. The constant knot in her stomach tightened. “No, I haven’t seen this one,” Callie answered with a sigh.
“Turn to page twelve.”
By the tone of her friend’s voice, Callie knew she wasn’t going to like what she saw. Flipping to page twelve, she was greeted by a double page spread of pictures. All of them featured her and Dylan. There was even one of them standing outside her motel room in Newport the weekend she went down to meet Warren for the first time.
Tears welled up in Callie’s eyes, blurring her vision. Seeing her face on the cover of a magazine was bad enough, but seeing her disastrous relationship, or whatever her thing with Dylan had been, announced to the world was just too much.
How? They’d been alone when some of the photos were taken. Or at least she’d thought they were alone.
Pushing the magazine away, Callie dropped her head into her hands. “What a mess,” she groaned. “I never should have gone along with this. What was I thinking? No one else ever needed to know.”
Lauren patted her on the arm. “I don’t think you could’ve kept it a secret forever.”
“It was a secret my entire life. I think it could have stayed that way for a few more decades.”
“That was before anyone else knew, including you,” Lauren said in the same voice she used when she tried to make a student see reason. “Too many people knew to keep it a secret forever. Eventually it would’ve come out.”
Callie knew she was right. “It still sucks.” Standing, she went to get some iced coffee. “Do you know there have been at least four reporters and I don’t know how many photographers parked across the street all week? They follow me. I can’t even take Lucky for a walk without someone bothering me. I actually asked Neil to do it for me last night so I wouldn’t have to deal with them.” Callie slammed her glass down on the counter, causing some of the coffee to slosh over the sides. “And I’ve lost count of how many reporters have called or just showed up looking for a statement from me.”