I slid a bottle over to Kyle, who had wedged his body conveniently between two ladies to get to the bar.
“I see pretty boy is happy to see me,” Kyle sneered, taking a long swig of his beer.
“Don’t start, Kyle,” I warned and quickly hurried out from behind the bar.
“Come here please.” I drug him by the sleeve of his leather jacket to speak to him privately. “I want to know, right now, if you have any weapons on you,” I asked, knowing that he had a permit to carry concealed firearms.
He took another swig of his beer and patted the space under his right arm. “I never leave home without it!” he stated proudly.
“And you felt the need to bring that into my pub for what reason?” I asked directly.
“Never know when I’m going to need it,” he reasoned. “I’m not breaking any laws. Besides, by the looks of it, there are enough of his fans in here - any one of them could be a psychotic stalker,” he said eerily.
“Hey, Kyle! How’s it going?” Mike greeted him with a pat on the shoulder, expressing more concern than friendliness.
“Just enjoying a beer on New Year’s Eve, Mike. And you?”
“Making sure things stay peaceful and calm around here.” Mike patted him again, gripping Kyle’s collarbone in his hand so he would get the hint.
“Mike, I was just going to ask Kyle if he would mind taking his firearm back out to his car. I would feel a lot better if I knew there weren’t any guns in my pub tonight.”
Kyle finished his beer in one big gulp and set the empty bottle down forcefully on a table filled with patrons. “I’ll remove mine if you remove yours!” Kyle arrogantly challenged Mike.
“I’m pretty sure you don’t want things to go down this way tonight, Kyle. Taryn asked you to leave your piece outside. It’s a simple request.”
“Fine, I’ll leave,” Kyle defended. “Don’t want to upset pretty boy tonight.”
“Kyle, I didn’t say you had to leave! I just don’t want you armed while you’re drinking in my pub, that’s all.”
“Come on… let’s take this outside,” Mike calmly suggested, slightly gripping Kyle’s arm.
“Get your fucking hand off of me!” Kyle responded angrily, shoving Mike’s hand away.
Ryan was at my side in an instant, taking the short cut behind the bar to reach me.
“What’s up, Kyle?” Ryan asked coldly. He stepped in front of me, protectively pushing me back with his arm.
“Do we have a problem here?” Pete muscled his way in through the crowd. Gary was right behind him. Cory raced out from behind the bar to back up Ryan.
Kyle smirked, almost analyzing if he’d be quick enough to take down all five men on his own. Part of my brain considered that he probably could, and I didn’t like those odds.
“Listen! Everyone just calm down!” I ordered, elbowing my way back in between Ryan and Kyle. “Kyle, you are more than welcome to stay, enjoy the band, and have a good time – just like everyone else. I just don’t want people who are not working for me to be carrying weapons inside my bar. Go out to your car, lock up whatever toys you have on you, and come back inside. Okay?” I wanted to defuse the situation as quickly as possible.
“Okay,” Kyle conceded, drawing in a breath through his nose. “Taryn, come for a walk with me - please?”
“Oh hell no!” Ryan snapped, blocking me with his arm again.
Kyle scoffed at Ryan’s reaction. “Is your name Taryn?” he jeered.
“You’re not going anywhere with my girlfriend,” Ryan snarled.
“And why is that, Ryan? Are you afraid that I’m going to tell her? Afraid she might find out that she wasn’t the first girl you nailed in this town?” Kyle said mockingly.
“You don’t know shit!” Ryan raised his angry voice.
“Oh, I don’t? So I guess you never told her about the little hottie you’ve been screwing on your movie set?”
“You need to shut the fuck up before I shut you up!” Ryan threatened, stepping even closer to Kyle. Mike put his hand on Ryan’s chest, giving him a heedful warning.
“So are you going to deny it now? Go ahead! Lie to her some more, Ryan!” Kyle taunted.
I looked up at Ryan, begging for an explanation. His face was turning red, coated with anger.
“Are you cheating on me?” The question flew from my brain and right out my mouth.
“No! Absolutely not! Never!” Ryan looked me directly in the eyes and squared his shoulders. “What he’s referring to happened before I met you.”
“So it happened?” I squeaked.
“Yeah, so what?” he muttered. “What happened before you and I got together is in the past, but since our friend here has an agenda, I guess my past actions need to be explained. For the record, Kyle, I slept with one girl one time and that was before I even met Taryn, so you might want to get your facts straight.”
Ryan quickly turned his attention back to me, locking his eyes on mine. “I’ve never been unfaithful to you – Never!” His words were urgent, direct.
I inched around Ryan’s side. “Kyle! Why are you doing this?” I demanded.
“You deserve better,” he said emphatically, almost pleading with me. “Better than the lies he offers.”
“What the hell is your problem? You think by coming in here and making a scene it’s going to make me want to choose you instead of him? Like maybe if you get him out of the picture you’d have a snowball’s chance in hell with me?”
“Huh! You believe him?” Kyle countered.
Memories of every beautiful moment I had spent with Ryan flashed in fast forward through my mind. We’d been through too much for me to doubt him. “Yes! Yes, I do!”
“Man, you are a good actor! He’ll do it again, Taryn. They all do,” Kyle yelled over the music. His attempt to convince me to agree with him goaded Ryan even further.
Ryan reached his limit. That last comment made him snap. He raised his hands, lunging for Kyle’s throat. Pete and Mike instantly intervened, quickly blocking Ryan from making contact.
“Kyle, you need to leave - now!” I scowled at him. “Get out of my bar.”
“Don’t you ever come near her again. You got me?” Ryan flipped out in a fit of rage. Pete had a hold of Ryan’s arm; Mike was gripping the front of Ryan’s shirt.
Kyle just stood there, appearing unaffected, hoping that he’d get a chance to take Ryan down.
“I said get out!” I stepped in between them, staring straight at Kyle.
I had enough. My customers were watching the action unfold, waiting to see if Ryan Christensen, the famous actor, was going to get into a fistfight. I turned and walked away, completely disgusted, and headed for my stairwell.
Ryan was at a run when he hit the first three steps to our apartment. He stopped abruptly when he saw me sitting on the top landing. He leaned up on the wall and let out a big sigh.
He tried to maintain his temper as his words came out through his clenched teeth. “I’m going to ask, and I want the truth. Did anything… ever… happen between you and that asshole?”
I scoffed, shocked that he would even question my fidelity. But then again, I really wasn’t surprised. Ryan and I both had trust issues.
“No. Nothing… never.” I stared directly into his eyes.
“Not even a kiss?” he growled.
“Never,” I whispered adamantly. “I hugged him goodbye once when he dropped me off from the airport at Thanksgiving, and I told you about that.” I put my head in my hand. “I suppose even that was a mistake,” I mumbled.
Ryan finished the climb up the steps and sat down next to me on the landing. We sat there in silence, both trying to calm down.
“I think it’s safe to say that neither one of us was a virgin when we met,” Ryan muttered. “I’ve never asked you about the guys that you were with before me, because hearing about it would just make me crazy. And you’ve never asked, so I figure the same goes for you. What difference does it make who we slept with bef
ore? We both have pasts.”
I nodded in agreement, knowing he was right.
Ryan drew in a deep breath. “The first week I was here I hooked up with one of the PAs,” he admitted. “I messed around with her a couple of t…”
“Ryan, stop,” I interrupted, trying not to visualize this new girl as being the lucky recipient of the missing condom.
He looked at me, confused by my order.
“Don’t lie to me,” I whispered.
“I’m not,” he confirmed.
“You told Kyle one girl, one time. You just slipped and said a couple. What’s the truth?” I breathed in desperation.
“Can’t you see he’s trying to rip us apart?” he said, almost pleading with me.
“He and a million other folks,” I corrected.
“Tar, I don’t have to explain myself to Kyle, but I am being truthful with you. So I had sex with some girl – twice – before I even knew you,” he stressed. “It was nothing. It meant nothing. And I ended it. I swear to God, from the moment I met you, I have not touched, been with, or even looked at another woman. Suzanne doesn’t count.” He laughed lightly, then collected himself. “I’ve been completely faithful to you.”
I stared at my feet, trying to keep a hold of my emotions.
“When we were out on the lake, you said it had been months since… I just assumed that meant sex,” I confessed.
Ryan exhaled loudly.
“Taryn, when we were out on the lake, I was already falling madly in love with you. And I didn’t lie; it’s been months since I had a girlfriend.” He collected my hand in his. “When I got to town here, I was… lonely. I took advantage of an opportunity,” he admitted.
I thought about why lovers lie to each other - feelings and egos are such fragile things.
“Do you have any more secrets or is this the last of them?” I asked.
Ryan thought for a moment. “I lost my virginity to Kelsey Bowman when I was sixteen,” he confessed.
I smiled and nudged him in the leg.
“Do you want to know how it happened?”
I laughed uncomfortably. “No!”
“What about you? Are you keeping any secrets from me?” he asked cautiously.
I looked him directly in his eyes. “No.”
He twisted my garnet ring to align it on my finger. “Do you remember what I told you Christmas morning when I put this ring on your finger? Honey, there is no one else. There hasn’t been anyone else. I’m in love with you, Tar.”
As I watched the last minute of the year count down I resolved that his past and mine needed to stay there… in the past.
Ryan grabbed the belt loop on my jeans and pulled me off to the privacy of the dark kitchen. His arm wrapped around my waist; together we were ushering in a new year, a new chapter to our lives.
“Ten, nine, eight…” he counted backwards on my lips. I couldn’t help but be giddy at our closeness; my arms wrapped around his neck tighter, holding him fast to my body.
“Happy New Year Honey,” he whispered, his warm mouth kissed me passionately.
The bar was completely crowded, but at that moment in the darkness we were the only two people on the planet.
Our days together turned to just hours and then to mere minutes; Ryan was leaving for Florida to start filming his next movie.
“Call me once you get settled in,” I requested, trying to keep my extreme sadness of his departure in control. I turned my car ignition off.
His gentle hand rubbed my cheek. “I will. It won’t be for a couple of hours though until I land. Don’t be sad. I’ll see you in three weeks, I promise!” Ryan looked over his shoulder nervously, expecting that at any moment photographers could rush up to my car.
“Three weeks.” I nodded. “I think I can make it.”
“You could always quit your night job and come stay with me?” he teased.
“I’m working on it!”
“I know. I’ll see you on the 22nd. Keep your calendar open,” he reminded.
Mike was already standing behind my car with their luggage, waiting patiently.
“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.”
“H
e’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.