by Marci Bolden
“That must have been hard on all of you.”
“It was. But we survived. And we all learned how important it is to take care of each other. You’re taking care of my brother, so I’m going to take care of you. Paul says you have been looking for a full-time job. I’m looking for a full-time office admin. If you don’t like the job, quit. But I promise you, you will be able to make ends meet for you and your boys.”
Dianna nodded slightly. “Okay. Thank you.”
“So, when can you start?”
“Um. Next Monday?”
“Next Monday it is.”
“Annie?” she called when the woman started to leave.
Annie turned and lifted her brows curiously.
“Is the thing with your father the reason Paul doesn’t like Christmas?”
“Dad never celebrated after Mom died. We tried to keep traditions alive, me more than Paul and Matt, I guess. But it was never the same. I think it just reminds him of that.”
“Maybe I shouldn’t…” She gestured toward the tree.
“Leave it. Give him something good to think about this holiday. I’ll be in touch about the job.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Annie closed the door behind her, and Dianna exhaled heavily and looked at the tree again. She debated only for another moment before pushing the doubts from her mind and focusing on the good that had come from Annie’s visit. She had a full-time job. Starting next Monday, she would once again have the means to take care of her kids.
Paul couldn’t help but smile as Dianna stepped out to greet him when he started up the stairs to his house. “That’s some grin,” he said, meeting her at his front door.
She chuckled. “I have news.”
He lifted his brows, but she shook her head.
“Let’s have a look around first,” she said. “I hope you like it.”
He looked past her at the now blue and white walls of his entryway. The vibe was immensely better already. “Wow. This is amazing.” He stepped inside, set his briefcase down, and wriggled out of his coat, which Dianna hung on a hook by the door while he kicked off his shoes and unbuttoned his suit coat.
They walked into the living room, and he stopped when he noticed the tree. He hadn’t planned on decorating for the holiday, but somehow it seemed right. She seemed nervous, so he gave her a smile and a reassuring nod.
She led him through the house, showing him the bathroom and his new bedroom. The colors were much more soothing, much more him. She’d made his house feel like a home again. “You did a great job, Di,” he said, looking at his new bedroom furniture. “I love it.”
“Well, come on. We still have to see the kitchen.”
“The kitchen.” He grinned. “You mean the source of that amazing smell?”
“Lasagna.”
“Oh, man. If you tell me that’s homemade, I’m going to have to declare this the best day of my life.” They walked into the kitchen, and he gasped dramatically. “No more lime-green walls.”
She grabbed a pot holder and opened the oven. “New dishes, too.”
“Nice. This is just amazing. Thank you.” He filled two wineglasses while she went to work on serving dinner. “Tell me your big news.”
She glanced back and bit her lip. “Annie stopped by—”
He stopped pouring and looked at her. “Oh, no.”
“No, it’s good. She liked what I did to the house and offered me a position.”
“Di—”
“It’s good, Paul.”
He sighed and bit back his warning. He didn’t want to rain on her parade, but Annie was far from easy to work for. Instead he nodded. “Congratulations.”
Her smile returned. “Thank you. Matt didn’t drive you crazy this week, did he?”
Paul had artfully sidestepped any conversation Matt had attempted to have about Dianna over the last week. He’d called and heard her voice and managed to keep it limited to “checking in” on how the redecorating was going. He hadn’t wanted Matt to know how much time he and Dianna were spending together. Actually, Paul hadn’t even realized it himself until he forcibly stayed away from her. He’d missed her over the last week—missed her laugh and her cooking and just being around her—and that was something he hadn’t wanted to admit to himself or his nosy brother.
He shrugged and shook his head as he dug into his lasagna. “No, he didn’t drive me too crazy.”
Chapter Ten
“You didn’t have to do this,” Dianna said as she and Paul were led to a table at her favorite Italian restaurant.
Paul held out a chair for her. “I wanted to do this.”
She eased down. “Well, thank you. I appreciate it.”
He sat across from her. “So tell me more about your first day working with Annie.”
She shrugged. “There really isn’t more to tell. It was confusing at first, but I think by the end of the day I started to get the swing of things. I only dropped two calls, which Annie forgave me for, and I even got the appointment reminders out. I think I’m going to like it.”
When a waiter approached, Paul ordered an entire bottle of wine. Dianna almost protested, but something about his demeanor made her stop.
“I’ve been rambling on about my day. I haven’t even asked about yours yet.”
He shrugged and diverted his gaze. “I have a court date coming up, so I’ve been doing a lot of research and note-taking. Trust me, your day was much more interesting.”
She wanted to press but changed the subject instead. “So, Christmas is just around the corner. I thought maybe you’d like to come over for dinner. Unless you’re doing something with Toby and Sean.”
“No, I’ll see them Christmas Eve. Would, uh, would your boys mind?”
“I don’t think so. They have to go to Mitch’s after dinner, so it’s not like you’d be interfering with some great family tradition. Ham and all the fixings. Sound good?”
He nodded as he shifted his silverware on the table. “Sounds great. What time?”
“We usually eat about one.”
When their waiter returned, he filled their glasses with wine, set the bottle down, and asked for their order. Dianna chuckled as she realized they hadn’t even looked at their menus. She ordered eggplant parmesan, and Paul ordered lasagna.
His amusement faded quickly, though, and he swirled the liquid in his glass.
She reached out and took his hand. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, fine.”
She started to press, but he shook his head.
“I’m fine.”
Obviously he wasn’t but didn’t want to talk about it. “So, this friend of yours who bought my piano. Any idea when he wants it?”
“No. Is it in the way?”
“No, I just kind of feel guilty hanging on to it since he paid for it.”
“Have you been playing it?”
She hadn’t touched the instrument. Knowing it was going to be leaving her broke her heart, but for some reason it seemed important to Paul that she had, so she let a little white lie slip through. “Some.”
“Good.”
Dianna watched as he refilled his glass. He was being polite, but his heart wasn’t in their conversation. He may have been sitting across from her, but his mind was elsewhere.
“Paul, what happened?”
He looked away and shook his head.
She reached across the table and covered his hand. “Honey, what is it?”
“I don’t want to ruin your day, Di.”
“Talk to me.”
He focused on his glass, taking a moment to swirl the deep-red liquid. “It’s final. I got the decree today at the office.”
“Jesus, Paul.” She squeezed his hand. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
He gave her a slight smile. “This is your big day. I didn’t want to ruin it.”
“You couldn’t possibly ruin it. Let’s get our dinner to go. We’ll take it home and—”
“No. Can we just… Can w
e enjoy dinner? Please? I’d really like to have a nice dinner with you.”
She hesitated, wanting to push him harder, but nodded and delved back into her day, rambling about things that weren’t all that interesting. She leaned back as their dinner was served. They cut into their food, and Paul immediately informed her that her lasagna was much better than what the chef had prepared. Then he finished off his third glass of wine. Dianna watched but didn’t stop him as he filled his glass for the fourth time, and soon after he commented that he needed to flag the waiter down for another bottle.
Paul polished off his dinner and a second bottle of wine and then ordered dessert and a coffee. They talked about everything and anything, except his divorce. He held his liquor well until she urged him to leave the restaurant. Though it had been half an hour since his last drink, he was still wobbly on his feet. She apologized to the people next to them when he bumped into their table. Then she slid under his arm to keep him steady on the way out. She guided him to his car and took his keys without any resistance from him.
Paul stared out the passenger window as she drove toward his house. “I don’t know why I’m letting this get to me. It’s not like I thought she’d change her mind. They’re getting married, remember?”
“Yes. I remember.”
“Who the hell needs her anyway?”
They drove the rest of the way in silence. After parking in his driveway, she waited for him at the front of the car and then guided him up the steps and through the front door. He stumbled in, and as she hung their coats, he headed for the living room.
She pulled off her boots and walked farther into the house to find him sitting on the new sofa, his face buried in his palms as he took deep, loud breaths. She stood, not sure what to do, but finally sat on the coffee table and gently pushed him back. He fell, slouching on the sofa, as she reached down and slipped off his dress shoes.
“How long before they get married?” he asked as she set them aside. “A week? A month? Or do you think they went to the courthouse today?”
Dianna swallowed as she looked at where her wedding ring used to sit. She’d done a good job of not dwelling on Mitch’s impending nuptials. She hadn’t allowed herself to think of how quickly he’d gone from leaving her to being engaged to Michelle, let alone how quickly they’d get married once they both were free. But now, it was an obvious question. How soon before she was officially and legally replaced? “I don’t know.”
“I couldn’t have tried harder. I couldn’t have. I don’t know what else I could have done.”
His words broke her heart.
She’d felt the exact same pain not so long ago. Putting her hands on his knees, she did her best to comfort him as he’d done for her. “Nothing, Paul. You couldn’t have done anything. She did this. It wasn’t you. You are wonderful.”
He laughed, but it was a bitter, disbelieving sound. He stumbled to his feet, and Dianna held out her hand, as if she could catch him should he fall.
“I’m a disaster,” he said. “Everything I touch turns to shit.”
“That’s not—”
He turned and pointed at her. “Don’t! You don’t know. You don’t know anything. Your life is just as screwed up as mine.”
His words cut at her and made her wince. Sure, her life was a mess, but Paul was the one person who made her feel okay with that. It hurt to hear him point out her flaws.
He sighed and lowered his hand. He turned away from her and ran his hand through his hair. “I’m sorry, Dianna. I didn’t…” He faced her, and the look in his eyes tore at her heart. He was so broken inside.
She wanted to wrap him in her arms and hold him until he stopped hurting. She opened her mouth, prepared to ask him to come back to the sofa so she could sit with him. But then he spoke again.
“Who are we kidding?” he whispered.
She waited, but he didn’t expand on his question.
“Who are we kidding about what?” she asked.
“We act like we’re moving on, like we’re letting go, but we aren’t. We aren’t letting go. We’re hanging on to the only part of them we have left—each other. We’re clinging to the parts they threw away because it’s all we have left. It’s pathetic. We’re pathetic.”
Where his previous declaration had cut at her, this time she felt like his words would emotionally bring her to her knees. She pulled her lips into her mouth and pressed her teeth into them as tears sprang to her eyes. Was that what he thought? What he really thought? That she was pathetic? That she wasn’t moving on? That she was just something that had been tossed away?
She blinked, and a tear fell down her cheek. “I’m sorry you feel that way,” she whispered. “I thought we’d become friends, Paul. I thought we were moving on and letting go. Together. Like we said we would.”
“Di—”
She pushed herself up. “Look, um, I don’t think you should be alone, but maybe I’m not the one you need right now. Why don’t you get ready for bed, and I’ll call Matt?”
“No, please.”
She stepped around him before he finished, going to get her phone from her purse by the door. Paul clumsily rushed after her, but she didn’t stop until his fingers gripped her upper arms. His breath, thick with alcohol, rushed over her shoulder as he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her to him, pressing his chest against her back.
“I’m sorry,” he said quietly and then buried his face in her hair. “I’m so sorry. Don’t go. Please.”
Dianna closed her eyes. “I just want to help you.”
“I know.” He loosened his hold on her, just enough that he could turn her and pull her back to him. He cupped the back of her head as he slid his other arm around her shoulders, pulling her tightly against him. “I’m sorry. Please don’t leave me.”
“Okay,” she soothed. She hugged him, and he squeezed her even more tightly.
After a moment, he leaned back and put his hands on her face. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
“I know. It’s okay.”
He searched her eyes, and her heart did a strange little flip in her chest as his thumbs brushed over her cheeks.
He took a few deep breaths, exhaling them slowly. “Di?”
“Yeah?” she breathed.
“I think I’m gonna be sick.”
She creased her brow, but then he swallowed hard and she pulled from him and reached for the front door. She got him to the porch and turned away, grimacing as he leaned over the banister and vomited into the snow. She laughed, more at herself than at him. For a moment, for just a few seconds, she’d thought he was going to kiss her. Closing her eyes, she shook the thought from her mind and ran her hand over his back. He retched several times before he stood upright.
“Better?” she asked.
He nodded and spit before sucking in the cold air. “I think so.”
“Can you make it inside?”
“Yeah.”
He put his arm over her shoulder and leaned on her as she led him in. They went down the hall and through his bedroom. Dianna propped him against the bathroom sink and reached for his toothbrush.
While he clumsily brushed the regurgitated wine and lasagna from his teeth, she pulled the blankets back on his bed. She busied herself closing the blinds and curtains as she listened to the toilet flush and water run. When the bathroom door opened, she spun toward him and then sighed and looked away.
Paul, clad only in a pair of tight, pale blue boxer briefs, made his way to the bed and crawled in. Dianna closed her eyes and tried not to think of how damned good he looked. “I’m going to get you some water.”
“No.” He reached out to her.
“You need to get some water in you. Otherwise you’re going to have a horrible hangover.”
“Please. Stay.”
She stared at him for a few heartbeats before caving and returning to the bed. She sat on the edge, but he pulled her down and tugged at her until she stretched out on her back beside him. Her heart skipped
when he rolled nearly on top of her.
He put his hand on her cheek and stared into her eyes for a minute. “I didn’t mean to be a jerk.”
“I know.”
“Don’t leave me, okay?”
“Okay,” she said breathlessly.
He slid down in the bed, resting his head on her shoulder and draping his arm over her stomach while his leg wrapped around hers.
Dianna stared at the ceiling for a long time. She should not be lying in his bed with him nearly naked. Even so, she ran her palm down his back. She almost felt guilty as she touched him. He was passed out drunk in his underwear, and she was gratuitously running her hand over his hot skin. However, the feeling of his arms around her and his heat sinking into her banished her guilt, and she ran her hand over him again. He snorted and she laughed slightly, but her lips fell when he hugged her even closer.
As much as she enjoyed having him so close, this was surely the pathetic part he’d mentioned earlier. Falling into this…friendship, if they could even call it that, had been so easy for them. It was so easy to have someone there showing affection and appreciation, but the affection wasn’t real. They’d created a safety net, and she had consciously chosen to ignore that it was frayed. At some point, it was going to give and they were going to go tumbling down.
Paul jolted when his alarm clock started beeping. Holy. Shit. The sound echoed through his head like a gong. Rolling over, he stopped when he bumped into a body. Holy. Shit. Again. Just how much had he drunk? Oh, yeah, at least a bottle. Maybe two.
A quiet moan from the woman next to him was enough for Paul to identify her. Stretching over Dianna, he slammed the snooze button on the alarm clock and dropped his arm around her as he collapsed onto the pillows. He smiled slightly, as much as he could manage with his massive hangover, when she snorted in her sleep and shifted closer to him. Burying his nose in her hair, he breathed in her scent as he tried to piece together the night before.
Screaming. Vomiting. Asking Dianna to stay with him.
Oh, shit.
He ran his hand over her stomach, relieved when he felt the material of her shirt. Okay. So they hadn’t slept together. That’s good. That’s very good. Paul suspected she’d be offended if he couldn’t remember their first time together.
