The Hungry Heart

by Brenda Gayle

  ****

  Karen’s Albuquerque house was smaller than the one in Santa Fe, and more comfortable. It had a lived-in feel, and Nora had no trouble seeing Karen’s influence everywhere. The rooms were light and airy, with worn but not ratty furniture. The walls were adorned with pictures and photographs that worked well together, but didn’t give the impression they’d been selected specifically to complement one another. No wonder Karen preferred being here. It was a home.

  A place she could call home was something Nora had never had. Her apartment had only been somewhere to sleep, and her parents’ house—well, that had seemed more like a prison. The only other real home she’d ever been to was Tres Hermanos. Aunt Betty’s house had had the feel of family. Nora remembered the notches carved into the kitchen doorjamb marking the growth of all the children, and the wonderful aroma of early morning baking and roast beef dinners that permeated every room.

  Family was what made a residence a home. Karen had Robert, and Aunt Betty had her own children and the extended Graham clan. Even Hunter, Nora realized, had brought his family into his hotel suite through the addition of photographs and mementos from Rancho Tres Hermanos.

  She sighed, disappointed with herself. Once again, her thoughts had returned to Hunter. She wasn’t sure why it kept happening. She had done the right thing by ending their affair. She was unhappy, though, with how she had done it.

  It galled her that the directors on her board had demanded she stop seeing him. It really was no business of theirs nor of the powers-that-be in Washington. How on earth would her relationship with Hunter affect her work on the President’s Task Force? It was ludicrous. And unfair.

  “It’s time for your pain medication.”

  Nora looked up to see Karen standing, glass in hand, in the doorway to the study. Since bringing her home three days ago, Karen had been bright and cheerful despite Nora’s often churlish mood. Nora always felt badly after her outbursts, resolving not to allow them to happen again. Dammit, I’m not used to being mothered, and Karen is just too friggin’ happy.

  “I don’t need it,” Nora said.

  “Are you sure? The doctor said you’d probably want them for at least a week. There’s no point suffering.”

  “I said no,” Nora snapped.

  “Okay. If you change your mind let me know,” Karen said and turned away.

  “No…Karen, wait.” Guilt gnawed at Nora. “I’m sorry for being so rude. It’s just…” She shrugged. She didn’t know what it was.

  Karen walked over to the chair beside the couch where Nora was laying. She placed the glass and pills on an end table and sat down. Her brows were drawn together with concern, which only increased Nora’s remorse.

  “Are you okay?” Karen said. “I know you don’t want to talk to me, but do you need to see someone? Doctor Challice said depression is common after something like this.”

  “I’m not depressed—at least I don’t think I am. And certainly not about the shooting.”

  “Something’s wrong. Is it Hunter?” Karen’s tone was tentative, and Nora heard guilt beneath the question. Karen was blaming herself for bringing her and Hunter together.

  Nora sighed. She really did need someone to talk to about everything that had happened. If not Karen, then who? It came as a shock to realize she had no one in her life in whom she could confide. Of course, until a few weeks ago, she’d never felt she needed to confide in anyone.

  Being with Hunter had shown her how nice it could be to have someone to share experiences with—not just sex, there had been more to their relationship than that. Or at least, she had thought so. Maybe that was what she was missing?

  She had seen how he felt about his family, and she was envious. And yet, she had her own family. Why was Nora so determined to push her only family, Karen, away?

  “It’s not about Hunter, really. Well, it is, sort of. But not in the way you think.” Nora barely had her own thoughts together on this, how could she possibly convey them to someone else?

  “Why don’t you just tell me what happened?” Karen said softly.

  “My name has been put forward for the President’s Child Welfare Task Force.”

  “Nora, that’s wonderful.” Karen clapped her hands, genuinely pleased.

  “Yeah, the board is thrilled…great profile for the organization…the culmination of years of hard work…blah, blah, blah.”

  “So what’s the problem?”

  “Did you happen to see the coverage of the Graham Foundation fundraiser on the society page of the paper?”

  “I did,” Karen said cautiously.

  “That’s the problem.”

  Nora could hear the ticking of a clock growing louder as the silence lengthened. She sat up and drank the water for something to do. Finally she couldn’t take it any longer. “So?” she snapped.

  “So you ended things with Hunter because your board told you to,” Karen said—a statement not a question.

  “Well, it’s not like it was a real relationship or anything,” Nora said defensively. “You know his type. It’s just for fun. A temporary diversion.”

  “So if it didn’t mean anything, what’s the problem?”

  And that was the crux of the issue. “That’s what I’m trying to figure out. The guy who recommended me to the task force, Billy Bower, is head of the Texas Childcare Association. He has a reputation just as sullied as Hunter’s, and he’s on the task force. It’s not like I’m sleeping with every guy that comes along—just one. Why should my personal relationship with Hunter matter?”

  “Nora, please tell me you’re not that naive?” Karen said. “I know it’s not fair, but you and I have both been around long enough to know there’s a double standard when it comes to sex and politics.”

  “It’s not right.”

  “No, but it is what it is. You can either work within the system or get out.”

  “That’s a fairly jaded view.” Nora was surprised by Karen’s candor.

  “I’m a politician’s wife. I attend Robert’s political rallies. I stand by his side at all the photo-ops. I’m hostess at his dinner parties. My official position on all policies echoes his to the point that sometimes I don’t even remember what I originally believed. My whole identity is as Mrs. Robert Pearce. Am I jaded? Yes, of course I am.”

  “But I thought you and Robert—”

  “Don’t get me wrong. I love him. We have a good life together. But I do sometimes wish there was a little more of me in the relationship. Still, I made my choice, and I keep any regrets to myself.”

  “I couldn’t do that,” Nora said. “I need my independence. I need to know who I am, and what I stand for.” I need to tell my board to go screw itself.

  What would the board do, she wondered, if she refused to cave in to its demands—if she insisted her personal life was off-limits? Would she be fired for standing up to Sylvia and the others?

  It didn’t make any sense. Nora had created CAN. It was her association. She had brought in the directors—hand-selected them—to further the organization’s goals and objectives. Surely, they needed her.

  Or maybe she’d been too successful. The organization was now stable enough that the board could drop in any competent executive director and CAN’s work would continue unabated.

  Was this issue important enough to take on the board? To risk her career?

  Hunter was a good man. The board’s accusations tarnished him as much as her. She thought about how much Karen had given up for Robert. How did that happen? Had he asked it of her, or had she offered?

  In any event, Hunter had never asked her to give up any part of herself for him. Okay, maybe he didn’t want her to work the room at what he saw as social functions, but he was coming around to seeing her point of view on that. She felt a warm flush in her belly as she remembered how she had tried to convince him after the Graham Foundation dinner.

  Oh hell, am I now turning it all around and thinking of risking my career for him? For a relationsh
ip that he had maintained from the beginning was purely for fun?

  Stay focused. Remove Hunter from the equation. What’s the right thing to do?

  She knew the answer. “I need to call Sylvia,” Nora said, wincing slightly at the pain in her shoulder as she rose from the couch. “I can’t give up my independence, and I won’t allow them to railroad me. If it costs me a position on the task force, so be it.”

  “Are you sure?” Karen said, although she didn’t seem surprised. “You could do a lot of good for the children of this country on that committee.”

  “Yeah, but not at the cost of my self-respect. If I give in this once, where does it end?”

  ****

  Karen hadn’t been happy with Nora’s decision to return to Santa Fe following her discussion with Sylvia. The conversation hadn’t gone well. Sylvia had, essentially, fired her. Although without the approval of the board Nora wasn’t sure how legitimate it was.

  It didn’t matter. Nora knew she couldn’t continue with the organization when all civility had broken down between her and the chair of her board of directors.

  Nora wouldn’t leave CAN in the lurch, though. In the letter of resignation she sent to the directors, she promised to stay on for a month to make sure none of the programs would be compromised, and that there would be a smooth transition to her replacement.

  But she wasn’t completely selfless. Her next email was to the Wilkinsons aboard their cruise ship. In it she asked them to consider the Graham Foundation for the administration of their scholarship. When they agreed—albeit expressing some confusion about her change of heart—she forwarded the paperwork to Anna.

  “Are you sure you need to go back now?” Karen had asked.

  “Yes, I’ve been here long enough. It’s time to get back to my real life.”

  “I’m not happy about you returning to your apartment—living alone. If you won’t stay with us in Santa Fe, will you at least consider staying at the Roundtree longer? Until the police have caught the people responsible for the break-ins?”

  “I really can’t,” Nora said. “That week I spent there has pretty much exhausted my savings, and I’m about to be without an income.”

  “Oh,” Karen seemed caught off-guard. “I just assumed Hunter...”

  “Hunter what? Was paying for my room? Jeez, Karen.”

  “No, no,” she said quickly, trying to cover her embarrassment. “I thought that since his restaurant is there, and he has one of the executive suites, that he had made some arrangement at the hotel for you, that’s all.”

  Nora gazed at her sister. “He wanted to pay—offered to. But I wouldn’t let him for exactly the reason you’re alluding to.”

  “It’s not a crime to accept a little help when you need it, Nora. Hunter is very wealthy, I’m sure he can afford the Roundtree rates much easier than you can. Besides, with your apartment out of commission, no one would have thought anything of it.”

  “Well, maybe you wouldn’t have, but you can bet Sylvia would love to pin that on me, too. If it’s any consolation, though, he arranged for the installation of a new security system in my apartment, so you don’t have to worry about me staying there.”

  Robert, or more precisely his driver, had taken both Nora and Karen back to Santa Fe the next day. Robert seemed thrilled to have his wife back by his side. Nora tried not to judge him too harshly in light of what Karen had told her. He obviously loved his wife, and from the flush on her cheeks as they sat holding hands on the ride back, her sister felt the same way about him.

  Nora had asked to be dropped off at the Roundtree Hotel so she could pick up her things. She’d told them not to wait, she’d take a taxi to her apartment when she was finished.

  As she stepped into the lobby, she was assailed by the familiar scents and sounds of the hotel. It almost felt as if she was coming home. For the first time in her life, she realized, she could say she had really been happy somewhere.

  She shook her head. Stop romanticizing it. It’s a hotel. Nevertheless, she knew, deep inside, that it wasn’t the bricks and mortar that had made her happy, but rather a certain chef that lived in an executive suite on the third floor.

  It was after six. She recognized the night manager, Mark, talking to one of the reception staff. He smiled and came over to her as soon as he saw her.

  “Miss Cross, I’m sorry you’re leaving us, but I’ve got your things boxed up and ready to go. I’ll call for a bellman.”

  “Thanks, Mark. But first I need to settle my bill.”

  “Oh, it’s already been settled. Paid in full.”

  “He didn’t.” Nora was incensed. She had told Hunter she was going to pay her own way. How dare he?

  “Oh, no ma’am,” Mark said quickly. “It wasn’t Mr. Graham that paid. It was a Mrs. Pearce. She called it in yesterday.”

  Karen. Of course.

  “Is there a problem?” Mark adopted an apologetic expression.

  Nora smiled at him. He was very good at his job, and she couldn’t be annoyed with him. She found she wasn’t even annoyed with Karen. She was sure her sister was only trying to help. And right now, facing the prospect of unemployment for the first time in her life, she was grateful she had family who was ready to support her.

  “My sister,” Nora said. “It’s fine. Thanks.”

  “Very good, then. I’ll get the bellman to help you with your things.” Mark strode away.

  Nora looked around the lobby. She had wanted to be casual about it, but in reality, she’d been hoping to run into Hunter.

  She still hadn’t decided what to do about him.

  She missed him, and not just the sex, which had been really, really great. She missed the conversations they’d had when he’d arrived back from the restaurant, how they would tell each other about their day. She missed waking up to the smell of fresh-brewed coffee on the weekend, and the wickedly decadent breakfast pastries he’d bring back from the market to share with her.

  But mostly, she just missed knowing he was there for her, ready to give her whatever she needed—to be a sounding board when she was frustrated by the latest cockamamie idea from her board, a cheerleader when she was nervous about a meeting or presentation, or simply a friend sharing each day’s small victories. In a very short period of time, he had become an integral part of her life.

  There was no reason she couldn’t continue to see him. She’d pretty much told her board she was going to.

  But if their relationship was destined to end anyway, wasn’t it better that it happened now? Better that she be the one to walk away? The alternative was to wait until he grew tired of her. The thought brought such a crushing sense of panic and loss, she had to take a deep breath to calm her riotous heart.

  The hard part had already been done. She had ended it. She should just let things be. And yet, she was here, and he was close by, likely in his restaurant. She glanced at the entrance to Prime. It would be so easy...

  The door swung open and he was there, tall and gorgeous in a light gray suit and blue-striped tie. One arm was holding open the door while the other was wrapped around the shoulders of a willowy red head. Her sapphire blue halter dress stopped mid-thigh, exposing long lean legs on impossibly high stiletto heels. His head was bent slightly toward his companion, and he was smiling. Nora could see the corners of his eyes crinkle and she heard him laugh at something the woman was saying.

  Her flight instinct was immediate. She had to get out of here. She couldn’t let him see her. She was so stupid. How could she think he’d be missing her as much as she was missing him? She should have known better. After she’d ended things with him, of course he’d just moved on to the next available woman.

  She ducked behind one of the pillars, trying to decide if she could make it out of the hotel before he saw her, or if she should just hide there until he was gone.

  She felt the vibration in her purse just a fraction of a second before the polyphonic strains of Candle in the Wind began. No, no, no, no, no.
<
br />   She dove into her purse to silence the cell phone as quickly as she could, not caring whom she cut off. But it was too late.

  “Nora?”

  She heard him call her name and her heart somersaulted in her chest. She wished the floor would open up and swallow her whole—put her out of this misery.

  Pull yourself together, dammit.

  There was no escaping. She had to face him. She braced herself, and walked into the center of the lobby. “Hi Hunter.”

  “What are you doing here?” He left his friend and came to meet her.

  “Nice to see you, too.” She hoped the sarcasm would make her sound less affected by his presence. He looked amazing, as always, and as he approached she could smell the familiar spicy scent that would forever remind her of him. She bit the inside of her cheek to try to ground herself in the present.

  “I’m sorry,” he said, giving her a self-deprecating smile that threatened to totally undo her. “How are you?”

  “Pretty good,” she said, touching the side of her face. The scratches were healing nicely. She no longer required the sling, although she didn’t have full movement of her shoulder yet, and her hips and abdomen still bore the bruises from where the satchel had slammed against them.

  “I’ve come to collect my things. I see Mark’s got them loaded in the cab already so I’ll, ah, see you later.” She turned before he could say anything, and forced one foot in front of the other until she had made it out the door to the waiting taxi.

  She gave the driver her address and slumped back into the seat. For some reason she couldn’t stop crying.

  Chapter 20

  “For the hundredth time, you did not break up Hunter and me. It had nothing to do with you.” Nora sighed, frustrated with Becca. Yes, she knew Becca felt it was her fault for not calling Hunter after she was shot, but really, the constant apologizing was getting old.

  She’d been doing her best not to think about him, and over the past three weeks figured she’d managed it for a whole thirty minutes one time.

  She had hoped that work would take her mind off him. After all, it wasn’t that long ago when she was consumed by her job. Knowing she was leaving should have made her busier. Instead, she found her evenings empty. What had she done before? How had she kept herself occupied?