Unsung Hero

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Unsung Hero Page 11

by Barbara Ankrum


  He stood, staring down at her, momentarily speechless, but she reached up and surprised him with a kiss, full on the mouth, before he could argue. Her lips were soft and tasted of Chablis and the salty, sea air. Her kiss shot heat straight down to his groin and fed the hunger she’d stirred in him the night before. He tugged her closer, but before someone could turn the corner and discover them, she pulled back from the kiss.

  She smoothed down the lapels of his jacket as she gathered her thoughts. “I’m sorry,” she said softly. “About today. I screwed it all up. I shouldn’t have left this morning without a goodbye. I’m not good at them. I’m apparently not that good at hellos either. You must think—”

  “Shhh,” he whispered, his finger against her lips.

  “I should have been grateful to you instead of suspicious for buying the yacht. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

  “Don’t apologize. I’m the one who should.”

  “For what? Finding your destiny? Making good on every promise you ever made to yourself? I get it. I don’t blame you for it. I’m proud of you, Nio, for doing so well. What’s past is past, okay? You just have to ignore me. I’m in a weird place. You caught me at a bad time.”

  “Are you sorry about last night?”

  “No.” She ran her hand down the front of his jacket. “Last night was probably the best thing that’s happened to me in a long, long time. But let’s face it. An impulsive thing happened between us and—”

  “You think last night was a one-night stand?”

  She blinked up at him. “Wasn’t it?”

  He flinched. “Not for me. Was it for you? Was it just your way of getting back at your ex?”

  “No! It was my way of…reclaiming myself.” She closed her eyes. “That sounds terrible and selfish and it came out all wrong. I needed some closure on you, Nio. To move forward. More than anything, that’s what last night was. And the whole thing…backfired.” She made a little explosion with her two hands. “’Cause look at us. Now I’m all…confused.”

  “I asked you the other day if you’d ever thought of me over the years,” he said, making sure they were still alone. “I thought of you every day. Every single day. Everything I’ve done since that day I left has brought me here. To you. We need to talk. I need to explain. About everything.”

  She shook her head like a two-year-old who didn’t want medicine. “Or what if we just hold on to this moment and replace that other one? That long-ago one. And let it be enough.”

  “That doesn’t work for me,” he said, taking her hand in his. “I’m serious. I know all of this is quick, but—”

  “Quick?” She laughed. “My fiancé just dumped me two days ago. This is crazy, is what it is. One night with you and suddenly I’m seeing pixie dust and unicorns, despite all the years gone by. This isn’t real, Nio. It can’t be.”

  “Oh, this is real. No unicorns here. Only you and me.”

  Becca opened her mouth to say something else, but a crowd descended on them, looking for the silhouette cut-out artist that Lilah and Graham had hired as entertainment for the reception. Among them, Graham’s best man, Alex Rivers.

  “Hey, Becca,” he said. “Steven’s been looking for you.” Sizing up the situation with Nio in a glance as Becca quickly let go of Nio’s hand, he added, “But, uh… I…didn’t mean to get in the middle of something.” He gave Nio a Dude—what-the-hell? tick of his head.

  “You’re not,” she assured Alex. “We were just talking.” She turned back to Nio. “I should go.”

  Nio grabbed her hand again. This time, there was no mistaking his intention as he told Alex, “Tell him if he’s looking for her, she’s with me. C’mon.”

  Becca’s eyes widened as he set his drink on the tray of a passing waiter and pulled her out onto the dance floor where a crowd of people had already gathered. “Nio! Please. Don’t make a scene.”

  “No scene. We’re just dancing. People dance at weddings.” He pulled her into his arms, pressing her tight against him where she belonged. And if that met her definition of a scene, then he would make one. He’d waited years for this. But as far as confessions went, he would do that later. After the wedding, when they were alone and could rationally talk about everything that had happened between them, starting with what her father had done.

  The band had started to play a cover of Rascal Flatts “My Wish,” an unapologetically heart-tugging song about moving on, and he moved slow enough to make sure he had her full attention. God, she felt good against him. As she danced, she started to relax and nearly put her head on his shoulder before catching herself.

  “Do you remember dancing this way back in high school?” he whispered against her ear as couples danced past them on the wooden dance floor. “Do you remember the senior prom night at your fancy private school? ‘Under the Sea’? I think that was the theme. And you came in that long blue dress that practically knocked me out of my shoes?”

  “My mermaid gown, so tight at the knees I could hardly dance. I remember. And you were my handsome, college-boy date.”

  “And I barely scraped together the money to take you. I was working two jobs and going to night school.”

  “Always a hard worker.”

  “And when my old man got wind of how much I’d spent on the tux I’d rented, he flipped out, thinking I wouldn’t be able to pay for my next semester of night school.”

  She hovered her cheek just above his shoulder. “Turned out, you didn’t have to.”

  “No.” He’d left town not long after that night. “You know he saved every dime he could for fifteen years for me to go to school? Years later, he ended up investing some of that money in my start-up. Turns out, I made him money, too, in the bargain.”

  “I heard about Caltech. Full ride.”

  The bride and groom passed them on the dance floor. Not that they noticed anyone but each other. “How’d you hear that?”

  “At the rehearsal dinner. I may have been pretending I wasn’t, but I was listening.”

  “Caltech was a lucky break for me.” He slid his hands over her back, wanting to slide them lower, but restraining himself. “And for him as it turned out.”

  “So…tomorrow is the big day for the house reveal?”

  “Yup. Want to be there?”

  She shook her head. “No, Nio. That house, your gift, it’s your moment with him. I don’t belong there.”

  He tightened his arms around her, about to argue the point, but he noticed there were a few sideways glances coming in their direction and someone tapped him on the shoulder.

  “My turn,” Steven said, with an unpleasant look at Nio.

  Becca froze and looked up at Nio.

  “You’ve already had your turn,” he told Steven.

  “No, Nio, don’t,” she warned, untangling herself from him and moving to Steven. Her ex settled her in his arms possessively.

  A muscle jumped in Nio’s jaw as he watched them spin out away from him.

  *

  “What are you doing?” Becca asked Steven as he pulled her out onto the floor. “That was unnecessary.”

  “I think you’ve forgotten to play your part here, Becca.”

  “I haven’t forgotten. I just don’t want to play anymore.”

  “’Cause of your ‘old friend’ over there? Since our cards are all on the table, why don’t we just be honest here? I’m clearly the bad guy in all this, but maybe you were cheating on me first.”

  Disgusted, she pushed him away by the shoulders and started to walk away, but he caught her by the arm. “Okay. But I’d think twice about getting involved with a man who’s willing to break up your engagement just to get what he wants. Namely you.” Her eyes widened. “Oh. He didn’t tell you that? Yeah, he came to me on the set a couple of days ago and said if I didn’t tell you about…her, he would. And he more than implied that if I didn’t I’d regret it.”

  Becca reeled back a step and glanced around her as people started to notice the tension between
them. She tipped her chin to have him follow her and when they were far enough away, in the shelter of a potted palm, she turned back to him and snapped in a half-whisper, “You’re lying. You’re a lying liar.”

  He actually had the nerve to look offended. “Why don’t you ask him? Cuz I get the feeling he hasn’t been completely honest with you, has he?”

  “That—that’s just low, Steven.”

  “Hiring people to follow me around, then threatening me.”

  “You should have told me,” she hissed at Steven. “Long ago if you were so unhappy. So don’t blame our breakup on him. He really had nothing to do with it.”

  “Look, I know I made a mistake. I’ll admit to that. And I’m sorry for hurting you that way. Though you knew as well as I did that it wasn’t working. But he’s no better. Why don’t you ask him why he left you all those years ago in the first place?”

  Her insides froze a little. “What are you talking about? What do you know about—?”

  “I’ve been asking around. I know he was your squeeze in high school. But I also heard he took money from your old man to leave you. Go on. Ask him. Ask him how he paid for Caltech.”

  She stepped back into the branches of the palm she’d backed into, then slapped them out of her way. “He got a scholarship.”

  “From who, exactly?” He nodded as she caught up. “Yeah, think about it.”

  She shook her head. “My father would never have—Nio would never have—I don’t believe you.”

  “Ask yourself how much your old man must have hated you slumming it with the gardener’s son.”

  Now he was just being cruel. He wasn’t wrong. But he couldn’t be right, either. “Damn, Steven. Why did I ever think I loved you?”

  “’Cause maybe I was the only one who could look past your old man’s crooked legacy and not hold it against you. I never did, you know.”

  “Didn’t you? Or maybe you just decided the thrill of dating the girl in the awful spotlight was over. But regardless, we weren’t good for each other. And I think we would have made each other very unhappy.”

  Steven pinned his gaze to the wall behind her. “You’re probably right.”

  She turned and walked off the dance floor, looking for Nio.

  Chapter Nine

  Lilah’s parents had just given a toast when Becca found him, standing against a wall, watching her walk toward him. His expression faded when he saw hers, and he straightened. “What did he say to you?” he asked as she stopped in front of him, grabbing a glass of champagne off a waiter’s passing tray.

  She gulped a few sips down then took a deep, cleansing breath. “I hate weddings. All this happily ever after stuff? Who makes this crap up anyway? Out-of-work florists?” She slugged another gulp. “God, I hate weddings.”

  “Today. Today you hate weddings. Don’t paint ’em all with the same brush.”

  “You mean the way I paint all men with the same brush? The lying, cheating, I’m-outta-here brush?”

  At that, he snagged a champagne off another passing tray and lifted it in a wary toast before chugging it half down. “Can I assume that includes me?”

  “Hey…” She polished off the last of the champagne. “If the brush fits…”

  “What are we talking about here, exactly?”

  She pinned him with a look. “Truth or dare, Nio.”

  “What?”

  “You still owe me one question.”

  He frowned, trying to remember if she was right. No matter. “Truth,” he said, finally.

  “All right.” She pinned him with a dark look. “You knew all along about his cheating, didn’t you? Even though you pretended to know nothing about it. You threatened him if he didn’t tell me, just to get him out of your way. Didn’t you?”

  Damn. “That’s not why I—”

  “Yes or no. It’s a simple question.”

  “All right. Yes. But I—”

  “Oh, don’t try to justify it. Your brother, Trey, uncovered his little affair in his ‘reconnaissance’ tour and you just decided to pull a deus ex machina and break us up. Admit it.”

  Nio looked off at the couples on the dance floor, unable to deny it.

  “Am I supposed to feel flattered you went to such extremes? Well, I don’t. I’m apparently perfectly capable of manufacturing my own unhappy endings. I certainly don’t need you playing God and messing things up. But that? That’s not even the worst thing.”

  Nio glanced around at the crowded room behind them where a conga line was shaping up to the beat of Quad City DJ’s “C’mon N’ Ride It.”

  “Maybe,” he suggested, “we should talk about this later.” With Lilah and Graham laughing in the lead, a dozen wedding guests latched on to the line, sucking in more people as they passed like a hungry snake.

  “No.” Becca raised her voice to be heard over the heavy drumbeat of the music. “Because later will be too late. I told you I didn’t want to know why you left, all those years ago, and I really didn’t. It didn’t matter to me anymore. But I can’t unhear what Steven just told me, so I need to hear it from your mouth. Was your full ride to Caltech paid by my father with your promise to disappear?”

  Her question punched the air from his lungs. “What?”

  As the line passed them, Becca’s old friend, Lana Larson, whooped and grabbed her hand, pulling Becca behind her. Becca stumbled into the rhythm, shooting Nio narrow looks. Unwilling to let that question stand, he latched on behind her.

  Quad City DJ’s choo-choo’d a rap invitation for everyone to ride the train.

  Nio leaned close to her ear and shouted, “Your father never gave me a dime. I earned that all on my own. It had nothing to do with money. I would never have left you for that.”

  A long pause as she contemplated whether to believe him or not. “But you left me for something. What was it?” By now the line was thirty people long and intertwining on the dance floor. More than a few drunken guests were having trouble keeping up. Only at a wedding…

  “All right,” he said, leaning close. “You want the truth?”

  “Hell, yes!” she shouted back at him. “And nothing but.”

  Lana turned a concerned look over her shoulder.

  He pressed his mouth against Becca’s ear as they choo-choo’d across the floor. “My brother got in trouble with the law that summer I left. Some burglary his boys did, and he happened to be in the car. He wasn’t part of the burglary, but he was facing prison for it for a long time—as an adult if your father had his druthers, as it just so happened Trey’s case landed in your father’s courtroom.”

  Becca paled and stutter-stepped on Lana’s heels as the line twisted to the left.

  He leaned close again. “Your old man told me to leave Laguna that night and never come back, never contact you again and he’d make sure Trey went free. If I reneged, Trey would lose at least eight years of his life and your father promised he’d destroy our father’s reputation and find a way to get him deported.”

  She turned a shocked look on Nio over her shoulder, tears springing to her eyes.

  The DJ shouted over the beat of the music, “Lookin’ good, ladies! Are we having fun yet? Get a little closer!”

  But an ocean of distance suddenly separated Nio and Becca, whose look back at him was full of the last thing he’d hoped to see in her eyes—disappointment.

  The entire conga line began singing along with the song, yelling “Choo-choo” with the chorus.

  The music was so loud, he could only read her lips when she said, “You, too, Nio?”

  And with that, she turned and ran.

  There was nothing left but to follow her out into the far hallway where she’d stopped, trying to decide the best way out.

  “You’re just going to leave again?” he called to her. “Like that? Not even give me a chance to tell my side?”

  Turning on him, she snapped, “Your side? You mean the part that blames my father for your leaving, you mean? How convenient that he’s dead and
can’t even defend himself. I never thought you’d stoop that low.”

  “You saying I’m lying?”

  She blinked and looked away. “I know he did things. Bad things, for reasons I’ll never know. But not to me. Never to me, Nio. He loved me. And he may not have been thrilled about us, but he knew how I felt about you. I don’t believe he would ever have tried to hurt me that way.”

  “But I would—is that it?”

  “You did,” she retorted.

  He flinched at that. “You know he was never going to let us happen, right? He found a way through Trey.” Nio drove a hand through his hair. “What is it you want, Becca? The truth, or some romantic ending you’ve made up in your mind?”

  “Romantic?” she nearly yelled at him before lowering her voice to a whisper. “How can you call what happened between us romantic?”

  “Because you get to blame me forever. And you get to dream of how it could have been, but you never really have to risk going there. You get to sleep with me and leave me in the morning without a goodbye, just ’cause you’re scared I might blow up your fantasy and then who would you have to blame? Your father? Right. So, what the hell? I made the choice. I did the leaving. So blame me. Go ahead. If that’s what makes you happy, Becca. Do it. But I never gave up on you. Just know that. I never gave up.”

  She stared at him for a long minute, her eyes full of tears, before she shook her head and disappeared into the hotel, leaving him standing in the hallway, alone.

  *

  The party broke up somewhere around midnight but Nio lingered on the lower deck, drinking, watching the ocean chase the shoreline. He hadn’t gone after Becca when she’d left. He knew she needed time to think. So did he.

  It wasn’t like he hadn’t expected some blowback on what he’d come here to tell her. He’d known this would be complicated. But that she would believe he was lying to her had cut him to the bone. Still, Randall Howard was her father and blood ran deep. She had to know the sort of man he’d become. But she couldn’t see past the father she’d loved her whole life and he hated to be the one to burst her bubble. That was just a risk he’d had to take.

 

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