by Tea DeLuca
Tangled Hearts
By
Tea DeLuca
Copyright © 2018 M. Bisciaio
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reprinted or distributed without the written consent of the author. All characters and events are fictional and any resemblance to anyone living or dead is accidental.
Table of Contents
Tangled Hearts
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 52
Chapter 53
Chapter 54
Chapter 55
Chapter 56
Epilogue
Chapter 1
She sipped the sweet white wine as she stared across the restaurant at him. Even in the dimly lit candlelight she noticed him immediately as he walked from the hostess station to the table not ten feet away. He seemed preoccupied with his notepad and cell and took no notice of her. She pushed the lightly battered salmon around on her plate. Why had she come here? The last time she had been in Chez Noir she sat directly in front of him at the very same table. She sighed and nibbled on a crust of bread. Five years. Would it be wrong to say hello? Could they make small talk after all this time? Would her heart always skip beats and race at the sight of him?
The waiter approached him for his drink order. She’d guess beer on tap in an ice-cold glass. And a steak, rare with French fries and a salad with the house dressing. He’d eat half the salad and set it aside. The waiter brought him his beer as she thought and the salad which he discarded shortly. He hadn’t changed—still so handsome, though his dark hair was shorter, neatly trimmed and eyes so dark they mirrored the dead of night. Her waitress removed her plate and refilled her wine glass. The business suit was different and the briefcase. So adult, but they hadn’t been adults, not like most people. He fired her dreams, fueled his own, and made promises he broke, but so did she. His steak looked wonderful, and he devoured it between text messages.
She took another sip of liquid courage. It couldn’t hurt to say hello. Living in the same town, they were bound to run into each other sooner or later. It’s a wonder it took this long, five years. Plenty of time to forget old wounds, to heal and move on, and to be polite in the present. She rose cautiously from her seat drawn to him like the years didn’t stand between them, tottering a little on her three-inch heels, gripping more securely her half glass of wine, and moving with little grace toward his table. For a minute panic rushed her, and she wanted to run, but her legs kept walking in his direction.
“Was the steak satisfactory?” his waiter asked. “Would you care for dessert, sir? Or coffee?”
Predictively, he ordered the strawberry shortcake and black coffee.
She bit her lip and waited till her courage caught up to her. He still hadn’t noticed her; still engrossed in the tiny screen on his phone. Now. “Mark,” she swallowed hard, “imagine running into you here. I was sitting right over there and thought it was you.” She sipped quickly, reading his eyes first. He was transparent, at least with her. His eyes registered surprise, then anger, and finally an attempt to appear indifferent, unaffected by her.
“Mags, long time no see,” he said calmly, stretching back against his seat.
The awkwardness was painful as she slid into the booth in front of him. “So, is everything good in your life? I heard you got married.” Her stomach knotted, and her eyes darted to his ring hand that was oddly bare.
“Divorced,” he replied with some agitation. “Didn’t last but a year.”
“Suit looks nice, but you swore…”
“Required for the job,” he interrupted as his dessert and coffee arrived.
“Did you finish law school?” she asked. She had been his biggest supporter back then to pursue his dreams and become an attorney.
“Yeah, I did.” He poked at his dessert and finally pushed aside the cake after a couple of bites. “Waiter, the check.” He handed his card to the man and glanced again at the girl who had broken his heart. “I can’t do this, Mags. I can’t sit here and pretend we’re old friends. I can’t make bullshit small talk with you like we don’t share a history.” He signed the charge slip and handed it back to the waiter. “Do us both a favor, and don’t approach me again.” His voice strained, his jaw tight and clenched. “If you see me somewhere, turn and walk away.”
No, five years apparently wasn’t enough time to bury old wounds. He rose quickly and left the way he came, leaving her to pick up her check and her heart.
Damn shitty day. In the small boutique she managed in the heart of downtown Charleston, one of her salesgirls had quit on the spot to move with her husband cross country. Two deliveries had stalled during transport due to the unseasonably rainy weather, and her mother had yet another friend’s son for her to meet. Her single status at age twenty-nine pissed off her mother. Maybe she wanted grandchildren, though neither she nor her siblings seemed to be in any hurry to reproduce. At least, though her brother was married, but maybe her mother’s motives were pure. She accused her of deliberately avoiding dating and commitment since Mark. Maybe when you find your other half, you can’t let anyone else in. She’d have to call her mother back but not tonight. Treating herself to a dinner in the high-end restaurant she couldn’t easily afford should have soothed her heart but seeing Mark again shredded it. Perfectly shitty day. Through the parking lot she kept her head down and stride slow, because her best friend’s borrowed heels hurt. She needed a bubble bath, a warm cup of honey laced tea, and bed.
“Hey.”
She looked up as a young man in a dark hoodie grabbed her purse. Oh hell no. Not tonight. She was not giving up something else, even a fake designer black bag with crystal beading and silver hardware. She held on as he jerked on it, snapping the cross-body strap. “No,” she screamed as they tugged back and forth. The asshole finally shoved the bag into her chest, knocking the wind from her lungs and pushing her off balance until one of the spikey heels snapped. Flaying to stay upright and hang onto the bag, she leaned into her attacker. He punched her shoulder and sent her sprawling backwards on the pavement. Grabbing the bag from her grasp, he ran. Oh, God, she prayed. Let me die right here of embarrassment or whatever.
“Mags, honey, are you all right?” He brushed back the hair that had fallen in her face and stared through the baby blues into the spot in her heart reserved for him.
“My purse,” she mumbled as he helped her to her feet.
“Wait here.” He ran off
in the direction her attacker had gone.
“Miss, are you all right? Should we call 911? We saw the whole thing, poor dear. That hoodlum stole your purse. Harold, call the police.” An elderly couple hovered over her, examining the bruise darkening quickly on her cheek. Her arm ached, but her pride was the greater issue.
“No, please, thank you. I’m fine,” she assured them. Would this night ever end? And then Mark reappeared with her purse. “You caught the guy?”
“Just a kid. He threw it at me when he saw me gaining on him.” He brushed a lock of hair out of her eyes. “Where’s your car?”
She thanked the elderly couple for their concern and pointed to the green beetle parked a few rows over.
“You still have the bug?” Mark smiled that unnerving, sexy, heart-stopping smile.
She tried to look away as a flush of heat swept through her. Her Mark, her protector, her lover. “Of course.” She slipped off the heels and flung them into the backseat. “Stupid shoes. I hate them.”
“You should have given up the purse. He could have hurt you,” Mark pointed out as he closed the door around her.
“Thank you,” she whispered. There was so much more to say, but …
“Goodnight.” Just pieces of a shattered past he had tried to forget. He crossed the parking lot back to his own car, the dark blue Mercedes, and decided to follow her home. Guessing she lived close, he wanted to know she was safe, and he’d keep a safe distance. She wouldn’t know what he was doing. Much as he tried, five years hadn’t erased his feelings for her, hadn’t stopped him from racing across the lot when she needed him, and wouldn’t stop him from making sure she arrived home safely.
Down Main Street through a residential area, she stopped in front of a three-story renovated rustic apartment building. He wasn’t prepared for the shock of feelings when she climbed the front stairs to their old apartment, their apartment where he once thought he had everything. After five years, she was still living in their apartment. Why? He told himself he didn’t need or want to know. Better to leave Magnolia Blossom in the past where she clearly belonged.
Chapter 2
Mark tripped over the pile of toys as he fumbled for the lights into his apartment. He needed to remind his sweet little girl to put away her toys. Normally, he had her every other weekend from six on Friday to six on Sunday, but this week, his week, Stacy’s parents from California were visiting. They were leaving in the morning and wanted a few more hours with the granddaughter they rarely saw. Glancing at the clock, they should arrive any minute. He checked to be sure he had her favorite juice, freshly laundered pink pajamas, and Mr. Snuggle Bear. Then he tossed a few things in the direction of the toybox and wondered why it was so difficult keeping his two-bedroom apartment tidy. Count on his ex to have something to say.
The knock so quick, he didn’t get to the door when his three-year-old burst into the apartment and launched herself in his arms. She smelled of peanut butter and strawberry jam, and her blond ponytail bounced above her shoulders.
“Daddy, Daddy,” she screamed, cupping his face. “I missed you.”
He grinned as he lifted her to the counter and cuddled her close. She filled his world with light and sunshine. She was his everything. “I missed you, too, pumpkin.”
“All her stuff is in the bag, Mark,” her mother told him. Once again Mark let his eye linger on the curve of her hip, the fullness of her breasts, and the same blond head as his daughter, but that ship had sailed years ago, leaving them to raise Liddy.
“I know. I’ll have her back on Sunday.”
“Six, please, and be on time. When you’re late, you disrupt her bedtime, and easy on the toys,” she scoffed, examining the room. “You’re spoiling the princess.”
Mark bit back a response. It was pointless. She wasn’t the weekend dad and didn’t have a clue since her maternal instincts ran a tad shallow. She moved Liddy’s doll from the sofa and made herself comfortable. Damn, she wanted to talk. He hoped it was about their daughter and not some other random thought she needed to share.
“Daddy, is Mommy mad?” Liddy asked as she watched her mother.
“Don’t think so,” Mark whispered. “How about a story, and you can tell me all about your week?”
“Two stories, Daddy,” she squealed. “I’ll get the ones I want to hear.” All energy, she tore off down the hall to her room decorated in everything bears. She’d want something else soon, but he couldn’t let go of the baby that had captured his heart and turned his life around.
“Was there something else, Stacy?”
“I want to talk to you, Mark.”
“About Liddy?”
“Indirectly, yes. Look, sooner or later one of us will get involved with someone, and that someone will become a part of our daughter’s life.”
She unbuttoned her jacket, and Mark inwardly groaned. She was settling in, prolonging the conversation. “Are you trying to tell me you have a man in your life? One who will be around my daughter.” He tapped down the anger coming too fast. Let her finish first.
“I’m seeing someone, but it isn’t serious enough for me to expose Liddy to Johnny. If it develops, and if I think he’ll be good for and to her, I’ll let him meet her, but I wasn’t talking about me.”
“You don’t have to worry, because I’m not seeing anyone.” He rose, hoping she was leaving and would catch his message.
“That’s my point. You aren’t seeing anyone. As far as I know, you haven’t had a normal relationship with a woman since our divorce, and an occasional one-night stand doesn’t count.”
Stacy was always direct and a pain in his ass when she wanted something. At the moment he couldn’t guess what she wanted.
“You realize,” he said firmly, “that isn’t any of your business, right?”
Her eyes softened to match her voice. “We weren’t a love match, Mark, but I’m not stupid, and I did listen. While I knew initially we hooked up to pound away the anger and hurt, I hoped after we were married, you’d let her go, but you never did.” His eyes widened, but she pressed on. “You drank a lot especially in the beginning, and you never remembered the next day how you cried over that woman who left you at the altar. What was her name? Rose? Daisy? Some damn flower.”
“Magnolia,” he glared, “but why are you bringing this up now?”
“Because I want you to be happy, and I want Liddy to have a stable home when she’s with you.”
“She has a stable home with me,” anger rising several decibels.
“The reason I’m bringing this up is my sister has a friend who moved to Charleston about two year ago. I’ve gotten to know her over the last few months, and I think she’d be perfect for you.”
A picture of Mags sitting across from him at the restaurant, her blue eyes… He pushed away the thought. “I don’t need you hooking me up, Stacy.”
“She’s beautiful, a professional, a doctor, and has her own practice in the medical building by the hospital downtown. She’s soft-spoken, loves books just like you, enjoys all the old dance movies you always watched, and, best of all, Liddy loves her. She already calls her Aunt Melissa, because she’s been at my place with my sister. Mark, you need to forget this woman you once knew. Call Melissa.”
“No.”
“Ask her to dinner or just out for a drink.”
“God, no, Stacy. Liddy and my work fills my life. I don’t need anything else, and if I ever did, I’d find someone myself.”
She shook her head angrily. “You’re being an ass, stubborn, just like when we were married. How about this? Can you handle a damn cup of coffee? There’s a great coffee shop downtown near the hospital, and the second floor is an old bookstore. Melissa’s never been there, and I think she’d enjoy it.”
He was never going to get her to leave, but she wasn’t going to win either. It was his life, and he’d live it however he pleased. “I doubt it but leave her number on the counter. I’m going to read to Liddy. Let yourself out.”
&
nbsp; “I will and call Melissa.”
His anger evaporated when he stared down at his daughter with her books scattered all over the floor. He took her choices and set them aside, helped her into her pajamas, tucked the covers around her, and started Cinderella; one of her favorites he had read countless times. She snuggled against his chest, reminding him that with everything that had gone wrong in the last five years, she had been the only bright spot. The most important reason he rose in the morning and made it through the day, and his most important job as daddy was protecting her.
When she slept soundly amid the teddy bear sheets and pillowcases, he slipped from her room and poured the last of the lukewarm coffee. Mags was still pressing into his thoughts; old questions he had never asked her. Why did she call off the wedding? Why didn’t she want him? He had been so sure of their love and commitment then on that warm day in September, she threw it and him away. He fingered the card on the counter with Melissa’s number. Maybe a cup of coffee. It wouldn’t hurt, and maybe it was time.
Chapter 3
Third walk on a beautiful Sunday night, Mags inhaled deeply. One walk without the dog whose sweet expectation nearly convinced her but walking alone, at some point, had become therapeutic. A way to clear her thoughts or to study and memorize data for her next class. She hugged her economics book to her chest. Or sometimes her walks evaluated Friday night dates. Eyes not dark enough, shoulders not broad enough. Conversation about jobs and family awkward. Fingers that didn’t intertwine naturally and kisses—oh, damn kisses that were flat, no spark. No one was Mark, she concluded again. No one lit her up with a touch, a glance, a word breathed deep within her hair. Five years. Would she ever stop comparing everyone to Mark? No wonder her mother was on a one-woman crusade to get her married.
The city park was busy on the warm weekend night. The trees opened up to the tourists enjoying paddleboat rides on the small picturesque lake. Families happily barbecued and enjoyed tossing a football or making sandcastles. The dog trails where Rufus had happily pranced earlier in the day were still crowded with elderly patrons and young families with dogs and puppies of all sizes.
