Love Unscripted

“You better go. Kiss me already!”

“I love you,” he whispered.

“I love you more!”

“Doubt that!” He leaned and kissed me again.

“Oh, I forgot to tell you,” he said quickly, one of his long legs was already out of my car. “There’s a crew coming tomorrow morning to start demolition on the pub kitchen.”

“What?” I asked, slightly louder than I had intended. “Wait, we only just got the estimate.”

“I know. I hired them.”

Ryan hopped out of my car before I had a chance to argue. “So if you want to yell at me, you’ll have to call me later and do it over the phone.”

“Ryan!” I whined.

“Sorry, I can’t hear you!” He mouthed on the other side of the closed passenger door. He looked at me intently through the glass window, grinning.

I read his lips when he silently said, “I love you,” placing his palm on the window to say goodbye.

I smirked and watched his sexy butt dash off towards the terminal.

Chapter 29 - Options

“Wow, they’re really making progress,” Pete commented, assessing day four of the kitchen remodel. “It’s going to be beautiful once it’s finished.”

I nodded, watching the crew install the new stainless steel ovens.

“So I take it you’ve forgiven him?” Pete asked, slightly distracted by watching the installers struggle with the appliances.

I suppose my reactions and behaviors were completely predictable.

“I was never mad at him, Pete. And now that this kitchen is finally getting done, I’m actually quite relieved. I guess I’ll have to just get used to his generosity.”

“Now there’s a good idea!” Pete staggered slightly, giving me a teasing bump. “You know most decent men have it engrained in them to take care of their family. He just wants to be the provider, that’s all.”

I sighed heavily as Pete’s words sunk in. “I know.”

“You know he’s going to marry you, especially now since you’re the proud parents of twin kitchen sinks!” He winked.

“Yeah right!” I elbowed him in the arm for teasing me. “Are you taking bets?”

“Yep. How about a grand?” he suggested, pretending to reach for his wallet.

“Pass. Just keep your money. I may need to borrow some to pay him back for all of this.”

“Oh she of little faith,” Pete said, patting my head.

“Well, if you’re done being overly presumptuous, I’m going to get the mail.”

I was still laughing as I picked up the pile that lay inside the front door. Ryan’s fan mail volume never ceased; it actually increased since his fans had a physical mailing address for the object of their affection. Fortunately, the Seaport Post Office kept a running pile and only delivered the trays of fan mail twice a week. I laughed to myself when I weeded through the pile and still found a few that snuck through.

I used my finger to open up a plain white envelope addressed to Taryn Mitchell.

I gasped in horror as my eyes read the frightening message written on a simple, white piece of paper:

My throat tightened and I felt faint. Basic internal instincts made me want to run screaming. The nightmares were starting all over again.

“Why are you so jumpy?” Marie asked at the start of her shift. She was filling the cooler with bottled beer and every time she clanked the bottles together I unconsciously flinched.

I took the letter out of my back pocket.

“Taryn! This is no joke! Did you call the cops?”

I folded it back up and shoved it deep in my pocket. “No, I didn’t. What are the cops going to do? Besides, my fingerprints are all over it now.”

She grabbed my forearm. “Does Ryan know?”

“No. I just got it in the mail today. I haven’t talked to him today yet.”

“He’s going to flip,” Marie stated the obvious. “You are going to tell him, right?”

I looked away, feeling pressured. I hadn’t intended to say anything to him. He already had enough to worry about.

“You can’t keep something like this from him, Taryn!”

Quite a few reasons not to tell him slipped into my mind. For one, Ryan was back in the gossip news. His rehearsals with Lauren happened to be photographed and candid shots were conveniently leaked to the masses.

Embarrassing stories were breaking over every media outlet that Ryan had rekindled his previous relationship with Lauren. New pictures of them hugging and being close were mingled in with old pictures from last year. The media was dusting off old photos and selling them as recent evidence.

To the untrained eye, one might not know the difference. To someone like me, who had spent countless hours researching the man I was sleeping with, I knew what was old and what was new.

Some of the magazines even reprinted old comments he made years ago, putting them into new content to make it look like they had obtained the latest news directly from the source.

My mind was wandering when I turned the pub TV to watch Celebrity Tonight. Ryan’s alleged affair in Florida was top story news.

Marie marched over to me and snatched the television remote out of my hand. “It’s all crap and you know it,” she said forcefully, changing the channel before I had a say in the matter.

Over the next few days, my mail was pleasantly devoid of horrid letters. I had hoped that the original letter was a one-time occurrence, but I worried nonetheless.

Unfortunately, Thursday afternoon, a new threat letter arrived in the mail. This one stated:

The sound of car keys being dropped on the bar made me flinch again; my nerves were wound tight.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you,” Kyle said. “Hi!” He smiled innocently. “Is it all right if I have a beer? I promise I’ll behave. See?” He opened up his coat to show me that he wasn’t wearing a gun this evening.

I found myself getting lost in his mesmerizing smile and the comforting feeling of protection that swirled around him. For how spooked I was, I sort of wished he was packing a concealed weapon. I rolled my eyes at him and smiled slightly in return. Why did he have to be so damn gorgeous?

I twisted the cap off of a bottle of beer and set it in front of him, slipping his money off the bar right after that. I wasn’t about to give him free drinks, not after the scene he made here last time.

A few customers were playing pool and getting loud and rowdy. Someone dropped a pool stick on the floor; the sharp crack made me jump again.