by Karen Booth
“No. Please stay.” He hoped she understood that he meant for her to stay over.
“Overnight?”
“Yes.”
“But Delia. I appreciate you asking for my help. I do. But this is the first time I’ve seen your bedroom, and we’ve had a whole bunch of sex over the last two weeks. It’s clear that you’re still not sure about folding me into this part of your life and I understand. I was the one who said we should take it slow. I don’t want to intrude.”
“You aren’t intruding. I want you here. This is long overdue and I’m sorry for that.” He pulled her into his arms and kissed her tenderly, hoping he could convey just how much he meant that.
“It’s okay, Clay. You don’t need to apologize. We’re both figuring this out as we go.”
* * *
He wanted her to stay. He was letting down the wall.
She reached for his arm and rubbed it gently. The connection between them was familiar and strong. “Check on Delia. I’ll be downstairs.”
“Perfect.”
Clay disappeared through the doorway and Astrid took her time meandering down the upstairs hall, admiring the handful of framed photographs of Clay and Delia. They had the same hair color, but not quite the same features. Astrid wondered if she looked like her mother, if Clay had to see his ex-wife in his sweet daughter.
She continued to the landing, which was open on both sides and overlooked the living room below. Soft strains of late-day sunshine streamed in through tall, skinny windows that looked like matchsticks, artfully arranged on the stairwell wall. Every space Clay created was aesthetically perfect and designed with purpose, a harmonious joining of form and function. Even with the home’s seemingly simple modern design, she knew the care and love that had gone into planning it. Warm wood tones, the way the eye was drawn from one space to the next, and the central role of natural light in every room mirrored the true heart and spirit of its creator.
She wandered into his showpiece of a kitchen, just off the living room, and helped herself to a glass of water from the massive double fridge. On the counter was a large bowl of Halloween candy. She couldn’t help but smile at the thought of Clay shopping for bags of chocolate bars and peanut butter cups with Delia. Why did everything he did have to be so beguiling?
“Here comes the Snow Princess!” Delia called from upstairs.
Astrid hustled out into the hall in time to see the little girl carefully descending the stairs in her icy-blue-and-silver princess gown. Clay followed behind her, beaming with pride.
“How pretty do I look?” Delia asked, twirling in a circle at the bottom of the stairs.
“You’re the prettiest ever. You look exactly like the Snow Princess.”
Delia turned to her dad. “Can we go yet?”
“Sure. I just want to talk to Astrid for a minute if that’s okay.”
“I’ll go find my trick-or-treat bag.” Delia skittered off.
“Do you want to come with us?” Clay asked.
Astrid did like the idea of being included, but they’d had a breakthrough upstairs and she didn’t want to push it. She would have time with Delia. Tonight was all about daddy and daughter. “I would love to, but who’s going to hand out the candy?”
“I put the bowl on a chair outside my gate and let the kids grab whatever they want.”
Astrid saw the perfect compromise. “Why don’t you and Delia trick-or-treat, and I’ll take candy duty. I’ll be here when you get back.”
“Are you sure?”
“This is a special time for you two. She’ll only be five once.”
He took Astrid’s hand, tugging her close, making her light-headed with a kiss that grazed her mouth. “You promise you’ll still be here?”
“I’m not going anywhere.”
Clay took a few dozen photos of Delia. Then the two marched off down the driveway and through the gate. Astrid decided to bring a chair out to the sidewalk and hand out candy there. She’d get more takers that way. The night air was chilly, but not unbearably so with the light sweater she’d brought. Groups of children streamed past her, dressed as superheroes and witches, princesses and cartoon characters. Astrid loved handing out the candy and speaking to the little ones as their eager faces lit up with excitement at a new treat in their bag. She could often go for days at a time now not thinking about how badly she wanted to become a mom, but on a day like today, that yearning within her had new life.
She worked very hard to stay positive about it. She would become a mother one day, by adoption if necessary. The task before that was finding love. The feelings that were blooming between her and Clay were sure starting to feel like that, but she was in no rush to put a label on anything. They both had their reasons for being wary. Still, she took the phone call about the braid disaster as a good sign. She’d been his first thought. There’d been a time when she wasn’t sure she’d even been his last.
An hour and a half later, Clay and Delia returned. They both smiled as Delia held up the enormous bag of loot she’d raked in.
“All done?” Astrid asked.
“I don’t think it’s possible for her to carry any more candy.” Clay glanced at the empty bowl. “Is it seriously all gone?” He sounded more than a little sad.
She showed him the contents of her sweater pocket—a handful of assorted chocolate bars. “I had a feeling you’d want your own supply.”
“You know my sweet tooth better than anyone.” He reached for her hand. “Let’s go in and put Delia to bed, then open a bottle of wine.”
A little thrill wound its way down Astrid’s spine. “That sounds wonderful.”
The three walked inside. Delia protested when Clay took her bag of candy. “Daddy. That’s mine.”
“I know. And you can have it tomorrow. You’ve had more than enough for tonight.”
“Don’t steal any.” To drive her point home, Delia scolded him with her finger.
“I won’t. I promise. Why don’t you go upstairs and put on your pj’s?”
“Can Astrid help me?”
An instant of inner conflict crossed Clay’s face, but just as fast, it evaporated. “Sure. I’ll be up in a minute to tuck you in.”
Astrid felt honored by Delia’s request, and went upstairs with her, helping her change into her pajamas and get ready for bed. She tried to ignore the way the littlest of things, like watching as she brushed her teeth, felt so right. Oddly enough, it helped her see why Clay had worried so much about Delia getting attached to her. Astrid was more attached to them both with each passing second. “Do you want me to take out your braids?” Astrid asked.
“No. I want to wear them to school tomorrow.” Delia rubbed her tired eyes as Clay appeared in the doorway.
“Good night, Delia,” Astrid said from the doorway. She watched Clay tuck his daughter in, admiring him in profile as he leaned down to kiss her on the cheek. Astrid’s heart was practically melting into a puddle on the floor.
He took her hand and they tiptoed back downstairs to the kitchen. Clay opened that promised bottle of wine and poured them each a glass. Astrid traded him a candy bar from her sweater pocket. Amusement flickered in his eyes.
“You totally have my number,” he said, then popped it into his mouth.
“Do I?” She still wasn’t sure.
He cupped the side of her head with his hand, rubbing his thumb back and forth over her cheek, sending her heart racing. “You do. You were such a lifesaver tonight.”
“It was just some braids. I was happy to do it.”
“It’s more than that. You didn’t hesitate to drop everything, jump in your car and get over here.”
She leaned into his warmth as he pressed her against the kitchen counter, and she gazed up into his eyes. “I’d do anything for you or Delia. I care about you both deeply.” It was liberating to come out with the truth
.
“I care about you, too. So much.” He kissed her softly, his tongue tracing the contour of her lower lip. “I want you to stay tonight.”
She wanted so badly to accept the invitation. His kisses and touch were everything...it would be so easy to say yes and ask him to take her upstairs. But she had to be sure he was thinking about what he was saying. She had to be sure this was real. “But Delia. I don’t want you to forget about the things you’ve tried so hard to protect. Your daughter. And your heart.” She smoothed her hand across his chest. “Those are not unimportant things.”
He pulled his head back, contemplative and even a bit brooding, showing her shades of the conflicted man he was when they first met. “I know. You’re right, they are important.” His eyes shifted to an even darker hue. The color had to be reflecting at least some of the struggle inside him.
“So take a minute to think about what tomorrow morning might be like when she wakes up and sees me in the house. Think about what you will say. If we cross that bridge, there’s no going back.” She sucked in a gulp of air, wondering if her inner conflict came close to matching his. “It’s okay if you tell me you’re not ready. But it’s not okay for you to tell me tomorrow that you want to return to sneaking around the office or meeting up at my place. I don’t want to force you into anything, but I do think I deserve that much.” She held her breath, not knowing how he was going to take the ultimatum. She’d suggested they take things slow, but she’d never meant for them to go backwards. She needed forward movement in her life now.
“You deserve more than that. So much more.”
What was he saying? Was he about to make his old argument about how he couldn’t give her what she wanted and needed? “What does that mean, Clay?”
Without warning, he swept her up into his arms. He looked her right in the eye, his eyes full of promises. Astrid’s heart was beating so fiercely she could feel it from her head to her toes. “It means that I’m all in.”
Twelve
Clay called Miranda on Monday morning as he was driving into work. “How’s the best sister in the world?” he asked over speakerphone.
“Excuse me? Who is this?”
“Oh, come on. You know who it is.”
Miranda tittered on the other end of the phone. “I know what the caller ID says, but you don’t sound at all like yourself.”
He sucked in a deep breath, preparing to send this bit of news out into the world. “I’m in love.”
Miranda gasped. “No!”
“It’s the truth.” Having made his confession, he told Miranda all about the weekend with Astrid staying over at the house. He told her how it had put all remaining shreds of worry to rest. Astrid did more than fit perfectly into his life with Delia, she made it better. He loved seeing the two of them together, talking, laughing and having fun. Beyond that, the moments when it was just the two of them were pure magic. Astrid made everyone around her happier, especially him.
“Oh, my God. I am so happy to hear this. What did she say when you told her?”
He hadn’t yet admitted his feelings to Astrid, but he’d said it to himself several times over the course of the weekend. It initially came as a surprise, but it had ultimately come naturally, which was exactly what he’d hoped for. He hadn’t pushed it. It made sense to both his heart and his logical brain. “I haven’t told her. Not yet. I need to find the right time.” He also had to decide what went along with those three little words. A ring? An invitation to move in? She’d wanted to take things slow, but right now, he wanted to step on the gas.
“Clay, I have been waiting to hear this for what feels like forever. I’m ridiculously happy.”
He pulled his car into the parking garage at Sterling Enterprises. “Well, good. I’m super happy, too.”
“I have to go check my email and get into the office, but let’s talk later, okay?”
“Sounds like a plan.” Clay climbed out of his car. He strode into the building and hopped on the elevator, fighting back an irrational desire to whistle. He was not the sort of guy who did that. The doors slid open when he reached the Sterling offices. “Good morning,” he said to Roz, the receptionist, stopping at her desk.
Roz peered up at him, bewildered. “Good morning, Mr. Morgan. Can I help you with something?”
“No. I just realized that I rarely take the time to thank you for everything you do to make the office run so smoothly.”
“Thank you. It’s nice to hear you say that.”
He started off down the hall, realizing he’d nearly forgotten what it was like to be this happy. For the first time in a very long time, he not only felt as though he had a glimpse of a brighter future, he had a clear view of it. “Good morning,” he said to Tara when he spotted her marching out of her office.
“Have you talked to Astrid?” The edge of annoyance in her voice was a jarring contrast to his mood. “I tried to call her, but she’s not answering her phone.”
Clay cleared his throat. He hadn’t merely talked to Astrid that morning. They’d made love, and it had been spectacular. It partly explained his giddiness. “She’s not in the office yet, but I’m sure she’ll be here very soon.” As far as he knew, she was at her apartment getting ready for work.
“We have a problem. That revised deadline she gave us for the Seaport presentation? It doesn’t exist. They didn’t move the date back. They moved it up. It’s Wednesday.”
Clay’s merriment evaporated. Just like that. “Wait. What? That’s in two days. We thought we had ten.” Clay’s thoughts flew to the calendar and his to-do list. There was no way they would catch up and finish everything by Friday. It would require all-nighters, and even then, it might not be enough. How had it happened again that they had a last-minute panic situation on the Seaport project? “That has to be a mistake. Astrid wouldn’t get that wrong.”
“I got a reminder email from the city, so I called and asked to speak to Sandy. There is no Sandy working in the city planner’s office.”
None of this was adding up. At all. From the depths of his pocket, Clay’s cell rang. “Maybe this is her. Hold on.” He fished it out of his pocket. “It’s Miranda. That’s weird. I just talked to her.” He sent the call to voice mail.
“Take it if you want. I need to update Grant. It’s all hands on deck. Let’s meet in an hour. And help me find Astrid.”
Clay sent Miranda a text. Was that a butt dial? We have a crisis in the office. Talk to you later? His phone rang. It was Miranda. Again. “What’s up?”
“I have my own crisis.” Her voice was teeming with panic.
“What happened? We were just on the phone ten minutes ago.”
“I need to talk to Astrid right now and I can’t reach her on her cell phone or her office line.”
What in the hell was going on? “Wait. Why do you need to call Astrid? You aren’t going to tell her what we talked about, are you?”
“No. That’s not why I need to talk to her. I can’t tell you. You’ll freak out.”
Now he was flat-out worried. “Please tell me what’s going on.”
“No. I need to hear it from her. I need to know if it’s true. I just got an email.” Her voice cracked. “I don’t know how to say this. It says it’s from Johnathon.”
Clay hadn’t been stunned many times in his life, but that was the only word that fit this moment. “That’s not possible.” Clay didn’t want to state the obvious, but it had to be said. His sister must be confused. “He’s dead.”
“I realize that, Clay. The man was my husband. I was with him when he died. Hence, my panic at receiving an email from him, especially one that says the things this one does.”
“You have to forward it to me right now. If it’s making you upset and it has to do with Astrid, you have to share it with me.”
“No. Clay. This will hurt you, too, if you read it.”
&n
bsp; He failed to see how that was possible. “You think I care about that? You are my sister. I am always here for you. Always. Please send me the email. I promise that whatever’s in it, I will take it all in stride.” Things today can’t get any worse. Or any more strange.
A heavy sigh came from the other end of the line. “Okay. Sent. It has to be a hoax. Some cruel prank.”
The number on Clay’s inbox ticked one higher. There was the mysterious message, with the original sender listed as Johnathon Sterling. Even more astounding, it was from his Sterling Enterprises email account. Clay clicked on it and began to read, but when he hit the second sentence, it was like running right into a brick wall.
Dear Miranda,
I need to tell you something that will upset you, but the truth needs to come out. Astrid and I continued our relationship after we were divorced. The last time I made love to her was after you and I were engaged. She has a way of drawing a man in and convincing him she is perfect. Obviously I fell for it more than once. I hope you can forgive me.
Johnathon
Clay had a lot of conflicting thoughts vying for his attention, but the one that came through loudest was that there was no way this could be true. The source, a dead man, certainly called the validity into question. Clay expanded the message header, and the servers all checked out. This had come from a Sterling Enterprises email account. On a very long list of things he needed to do today, he would have to reach out to the company’s IT department and see if they could help him solve the mystery.
“Clay? Are you there?” Miranda asked.
“Yeah. Sorry. Let me see what I can figure out about this, okay? This has to be fake. I don’t know who would send this, but I’ll find out. I’ll find Astrid. It will all be fine. I don’t want you to worry.”
“I feel so helpless and confused right now.” Miranda’s anguished tone made him want to reach through the phone and hug her. The thought of anyone hurting her put him in an extremely protective frame of mind, but he was sure this bizarre story wouldn’t turn out to be true.
