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Veil of Lies

Page 10

by Nicky Charles


  “So are we, according to what you told him.”

  “Well we are, aren’t we?”

  “Oui.” He rubbed his neck, his French phrasing creeping in. “Désolé.” Taking a deep breath, he continued, “It’s commendable, this work you do helping at a drop-in centre. If you’re needed there, our dinner can wait for another hour or so.”

  His words had her melting. He really was a kind, caring, generous man—

  “Besides, I would like to see this Neil person.”

  —sort of.

  He’s jealous, the voice inside her whispered in a pleased tone. That means he isn’t indifferent.

  She turned her face towards the window to hide her smile.

  They arrived at the restaurant a few minutes later. As he paid the driver, she looked at the place he’d chosen. An older building in the warehouse district, the owners had combined exposed brick, metal and wood elements to create a casual upscale atmosphere. A jazz band was playing in the background while small water features trickled softly nearby. Through arching metal gates a patio area could be seen featuring candlelit tables, window boxes spilling with flowers and fairy lights strung everywhere. One item in particular caught her attention.

  “I see you found a tree.” She teased, nodding towards the large one that stood in the centre of the space, its branches helping to support the strings of lights.

  “The concierge at the hotel suggested this place. The tree is an added benefit.” Armand placed his hand in the small of her back as they followed the hostess to a table in a quiet corner. Once they were seated, he glanced at the menu. “I hope there’s something here that you’ll like.”

  She scanned the selections. “It all sounds delicious.”

  They spent a few minutes choosing their meal and she began to relax; the comfortable feeling of familiarity she’d always had around him returning. After deliberating with the waiter over the proper wine to go with their meal—a task Armand took quite seriously—he leaned back in his chair.

  “I’ve missed you.” He gave a rueful smile. “I should have said that this afternoon.”

  Again, his statement caught her unaware and she rearranged her utensils before flicking a look up at him. “I…I’ve missed you, too. And I guess I can understand how you feel. You had to get it off your chest.”

  He slowly nodded. There was an awkward silence, neither of them knew what to say, then he cleared his throat.

  “How are you feeling? Were you badly injured in the mugging?”

  “I’m sure Ryne made it sound worse than it was. I grazed my cheek and ripped a nail.” She shrugged. “It was no big deal.”

  He raised his brows. “And yet it was a big enough deal for you to call him after two years of silence.”

  She tried to make light of the incident. “I needed his help to get my ID replaced; he arranged for it the first time so I figured he could do it again.”

  “And…?” Armand gave her a knowing look.

  Damn, Ryne must have told him everything! “Okay, I panicked. I heard a noise, saw this big limo and overreacted. I shouldn’t have told him though. I’m sure he made it sound like I was completely falling apart.”

  “I’m glad you shared your feelings with him. If you hadn’t, I wouldn’t have known you’re alive.”

  She flinched at the hint of criticism. “Armand, I really am sorry.”

  “So you said before.” He looked away, his jaw tight.

  “I had my reasons. I told you that.” She felt guilty and yet, at the same time angry with him for making her feel that way.

  Thankfully, the appetizers arrived and she managed to change the conversation.

  “Tell me all about Stump River. How is Ruth? Does Beth still run the newspaper? And Ryne, he’s a daddy now?”

  Armand gave her a look that let her know he was well aware of her avoidance tactic, but he followed her lead. The rest of the meal passed with him telling her bits and pieces of news. She laughed at the various incidents, glad to hear that most of the residents were still doing well. The happenings in the community were familiar, small town life seldom changed. It was one of the annoying things about the place and yet endearing at the same time. You knew who you were and where you stood in a place like that. The only problem was what if you didn’t like where you stood? It was hard to get out of the niche people assigned you. She sighed quietly to herself, her feelings about Stump River as confused as the ones she had for the man who sat across from her.

  Roxi sprawled on the sofa, a bowl of popcorn carefully balanced on her stomach and a can of soda on the table beside her. Idly, she flicked through the television channels.

  “News? Nope, too depressing.” She clicked the remote. “How tin cans are made? I couldn’t care less.”

  The next channel had an action movie and she watched for a while, munching on her popcorn but the special effects were laughable. Mechanical monsters always looked so fake.

  A romance? Nah, it reminded her too much of her own boyfriend-less state. It did have her wondering how Lulu’s date was going, though.

  She was sure Lulu had no idea the man was a shifter or that a world filled with Others even existed. Shifters, witches and Fae lived below the human radar for the most part. And while Lulu said she’d known the man for years, it was doubtful he had shared his secret.

  Of course, she herself knew about the other world. She came from a family of witches, much to her regret. Her family prided itself on its magical abilities and unfortunately, she was completely lacking in witching ability, a childhood virus leaving her without any powers.

  “When the Creators said ‘powers’ you thought they said ‘showers’ and went to take one.”

  Yeah, that’s what the other witchlings had always teased her with.

  “Well, being a witch just makes you a bitch,” she’d countered back.

  Yeah, she’d held her own against them and now she lived on the fringes, straddling the realm of humans and Others, not really belonging to either group. It might have bothered some, but not her. She was an entrepreneur, making her own way, exploiting her connections to both worlds whenever it suited her business purposes. And, in the course of that business, she’d dealt with enough shifters to be able to pick up subtle signs, signs exhibited by Lulu’s Armand. There was a certain look in his eye, the way he carried himself. It was hard to put a finger on, but she’d bet her back teeth the man was a shifter, a bear given his size.

  Abandoning trying to find something to watch on TV, she carried the bowl of popcorn to her bedroom. Being between boyfriends especially sucked on weekends. Maybe she would have an early night, read some of her new book and then go to bed. Or perhaps she’d head over to Club Mystique. There was always something happening there. She could gather some interesting information to share. For the right price, of course.

  No sooner had the idea occurred to her than she began changing her clothes for something more appropriate for going to a club. Decisiveness was one of her strongest qualities. Waffling over a decision drove her insane; she’d rather deal with the consequences after the fact.

  Chapter 9

  As they drove back to her apartment, Armand studied Lucy’s profile in the dim light of the cab. She was as beautiful as he remembered. Her hair was longer and a different colour, but he liked it. She wore less makeup as well. Now it was lightly applied, and he could see the real her. Well, most of her. The glasses she wore didn’t suit her at all.

  She must have noticed him studying them, for she reached up and adjusted them on her nose.

  “You wear glasses now.”

  “The head injury did something to my vision; everything is blurry without them.”

  He cocked his head. “That frame is unbecoming to you.”

  “You’re a fashion critic now?”

  “No. But I know what looks right on you and what doesn’t.”

  “Well, this is the look I want. I’m not trying to be a fashion plate.” She folded her arms and turned her face away
as if absorbed in the passing scenery. The angle of her head revealed the scar at her temple, a reminder of the injury that had nearly killed her.

  It made him think of the pain and terror that must have filled her when she was attacked. An experience like that could leave you traumatized for years, change your outlook on life, your personality... He pressed his lips together. Even if it was her own choice, it bothered him to think of her dealing with it on her own. And after all she’d been through, here he was criticizing her.

  “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have commented on your glasses.”

  She slid a look his way. “It’s okay.”

  “No. It’s not. They’re your glasses and you can wear what you like. It doesn’t matter what I think. You need to be you and if that includes those awful frames…” He stopped mid-sentence and groaned. “Sorry. Again.”

  The corner of her mouth twitched, and he took a deep breath, trying again.

  “What I’m trying to say is you’re lovely regardless…er…no, that’s not coming out right either.”

  She laughed and reached over to squeeze his hand. “Armand, it’s okay. Really. I’m over worrying about my appearance.”

  Her touch distracted him, and he stared down at where her thumb was rubbing over his calloused knuckles. She followed the direction of his gaze and quickly pulled her hand back to her lap.

  She cleared her throat. “I’m…um…going to school now. Taking some college courses when I’m not working.”

  “What are you studying?” He welcomed the change of topic and looked at her with interest. She’d never mentioned a desire to further her education when she’d been in Stump River.

  “Lots of things. Psychology. Sociology. I want to be a counsellor some day.”

  “A counsellor?”

  She nodded. “I’m not going to be a waitress all my life. There’s nothing wrong with it, if that’s what you like doing but I’ve decided I want to help people. It’s part of my plan to make a new life for myself. And there are lots of people out there who have gone through bad experiences like I did. Maybe I can help them. I know I could have used someone to talk to.” She stared down at her hands.

  Her words echoed his own thoughts and he wanted to say he would have listened to her, talked to her, if he’d known she was alive. However, now was not the time for recriminations, so instead he gave her a nod of approval. “It’s an admirable goal.”

  “Thanks.”

  He didn’t add there wasn’t much call for counsellors back home. It was a fact that worried him. The Lucy he knew, or at least used to know, would have happily divided her time between Ruth’s diner and the Broken Antler. After two years in Chicago, would she be able to fit back into the small town?

  She turned to look at him, perhaps sensing his intense study of her, and smiled. “I enjoyed the evening. The restaurant was beautiful, and the meal was delicious.”

  “Yes, it was.”

  Their eyes met, searching, filling the air with words that should be said and yet weren’t. Lucy was the first to look away, gazing out the window and only speaking when they pulled up outside of her apartment building.

  She began to undo her seat belt. “Well, it was great to see you again, Armand.”

  “I’ll walk you to your apartment.” He exited the vehicle giving her no time to protest. A man didn’t leave a woman on the curb.

  “All right.” She gave him a tentative smile then waited while he paid the cabbie before taking the arm he offered.

  They climbed the stairs in silence and when they reached her floor, Lucy took out her keys, unlocking the door before turning to face him.

  “Well,” she smiled and placed her hand on his chest. “Thank you again.”

  He reached out and gently stroked a strand of hair from her cheek, marvelling at the softness of her skin, the tingle of awareness that shot up his arm. His bear stirred, urging him to act. “Lucy…”

  “Yes?”

  He focused on her mouth. “May I kiss you good night?”

  She nodded and he pulled her close, lowering his head as she went up on her toes to meet him. Their lips touched in a gentle kiss, softly exploring, giving pleasure. It wasn’t the hard, passionate kiss he’d bestowed on her earlier in the day. They were in a public hallway now. A measured display of emotion was all he’d allow himself.

  Slowly, reluctantly, he eased out of the embrace, drawing away and stepping back.

  We are going to be bold and decisive, remember? His bear gave him a mental nudge.

  Right.

  The tip of Lucy’s tongue snuck out and wet her lips, gathering the taste of him.

  He watched the movement hungrily.

  She looked up at him, her big blue eyes full of promise. “Would you like to come in for a cup of coffee?”

  “If I do, I won’t be leaving.” He gave her a steady look, his meaning clear.

  “I…I might not mind that.”

  He cocked his head at the small stammer. “But you’re not completely sure.”

  She opened her mouth to reply just as Roxi came clattering up the stairs.

  “Hey, it’s Lulu and Armand! Coming in for a night cap?” She looked between them with obvious interest. “This is a first. Lulu has never brought a no-one back home. Next time I guess I’d better crash somewhere else.”

  “No one?” He looked at her in confusion before recalling her earlier teasing.

  “Just Roxi’s twisted sense of humour.” Lucy muttered darkly.

  “It’s part of my charm.” Roxi grinned and squeezed past them.

  He took Lucy’s hand and brushed his thumb over her knuckles. “I think it’s best I say bonne nuit or good night.”

  “Goodnight but not goodbye?”

  He shook his head. “We still have unfinished business between us.”

  A shadow of trepidation passed over her face and he took it as a positive sign. She wasn’t immune to him and he’d use that as leverage.

  “I’ll see you tomorrow.” Eyes locked on hers, he slowly pressed a kiss to the back of her hand. “Sleep well, Lucy.”

  Bemused, Lou closed the apartment door, feeling like a teenage girl on her first date. He’d kissed her hand! She’d never experienced such a courtly gesture and was taken aback at the impact it had. The contrast between his beard and the softness of his lips had sent tingles up her arm and the way he’d looked into her eyes, as if reading her thoughts... He seemed to see what she’d been unable to voice; her desire, her indecision. Even before Roxi had arrived, he’d been pulling back rather than pressing his case as most of the men in her past had. Being treated like a piece of fragile glass made her feel like some Victorian lady. It was a pleasant novelty and she smiled only to be reminded that his taste lingered on her lips, stoking a warmth within that she was sure no lady would admit to.

  This is what we’ve been wanting for years, the voice of her old self echoed inside her.

  But was it a wise move? And was wanting him a habit from her old life that was best left behind?

  The clock chimed signalling the lateness of the hour. Knowing she had to work the next day, she made her way to her bedroom, turning off the lights in each room and checking the window locks just to be sure. Soon the apartment was cast in shadows save for a sliver of light coming from Roxi’s room.

  “Night Roxi,” she called out to her roommate.

  Roxi gave an indistinct mumble. Through the crack in the door, Lou could see she was sitting on her bed hunched over her phone, texting away. It was odd that she hadn’t stopped to get food. Roxi always ate a huge bedtime snack.

  “Are you okay?”

  “Huh?” Roxi looked up. “Yeah, I’m fine.” She was frowning though and didn’t appear fine.

  “Are you sure?” She pushed the door open wider. “Did something happen?”

  “Nah. I just overheard something at the club I went to. Now I need to figure out what to do with it.” Her gaze drifted back to the phone she held in her hand.

  “Oh
. Okay.” Lou stepped back into the hall, letting the door slowly creak back on its hinges. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow then.” Roxi and her information gathering really did have a sketchy air to it.

  When she arrived for work the next day, Jeff the chef immediately stopped what he was doing and asked how she was feeling. His concern brought a smile to her face. Surprisingly Gin, too, asked how she was feeling in a round about way.

  “Not puking, I see.”

  “I’m feeling much better, thank you, Gin.”

  “What about your roommate? Is she sick now?”

  “No. Roxi is fine.”

  “She going to work today?”

  “Yes, as far as I know she’s working this afternoon.” She gave the woman a wary look. “Why the twenty questions?”

  “I’m being friendly. Everyone complains when I don’t talk to them so now I am. Geez, you can’t win around here.” She rolled her eyes and stomped into the dining area.

  Kathy gave her a friendly shoulder bump and whispered. “Even when she’s trying to be friendly, Gin isn’t a people person.”

  She nodded in agreement.

  At least Kathy made up for Gin’s abruptness with a show of concern. “Remember, if you don’t feel well, let me know. I don’t mind covering some of your tables if need be. I can use the extra tips.” She tacked on the last comment with a wink and Lou laughed, glad she had someone like Kathy around to keep things fun.

  The morning faded into afternoon with a brief lull between the breakfast and lunch crowd. It allowed her to catch her breath and have a cup of coffee before pasting on a smile and facing the next rush of customers. She enjoyed the work, talking to people, getting to know the regulars. They’d become like an extended family, just as the people who visited Ruth’s Diner had been. It filled a void in her life and kept her from dwelling on the fact she was alone in the world. Who could feel lonely with so many people to talk to?

  She bantered with Will and Paul, both men asking about her absence the previous day.

 

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