by Violet Duke
He thought as much.
“Luke, it wasn’t my history to tell. I would have told you if…shit, if things hadn’t played out as badly as it had. But the way it all went down—ˮ
“No, I get it,” Luke said tiredly. And he did.
What he didn’t understand, however, was how his friend had allowed the fucker to get away without jail time at the least. Connor didn’t have many friends, and the few he did, he protected almost ruthlessly if it came down to it.
“The fact that you haven’t had him arrested tells me there’s more to the story,” guessed Luke, unsure whether he even wanted to be right about this.
“A lot more,” agreed Connor. Another measured paused before Connor dropped the bomb. “Dani doesn’t know this but Eric is actually one of the senior partners in the firm Victoria and I started up two years ago.”
That Luke hadn’t been expecting. Not by a longshot. It occurred to him then that besides Connor’s good friend Victoria, he didn’t have a clue who else was in the Pierson Sullivan firm. Knowing the man that had hurt Dani was still linked to their circle of friends made his protective instincts go on full alert. He barely managed to keep the calm in his voice as he asked the most obvious question, “What in God’s name were you thinking hiring a man like that?”
Connor sighed. “He’s an exceptional lawyer, and despite all evidence to the contrary, a good guy as well.”
Shit. Even though every enraged, rabidly possessive cell in his body didn’t want to hear any context in which a man like Eric could be a good guy, Luke couldn’t leave well enough alone. He had to know. “Is this another one of those things that isn’t your story to tell?” he grunted, fully prepared to drag the story out of Connor somehow.
Connor paused for a long moment before relenting, “No. This one I can tell you. Because I think you need to hear it.”
The silent suggestion for Luke to sit down hung there at the end of the sentence like an ominous warning, so Luke sat. And listened.
A half hour later, he wished to hell and back that he’d hadn’t asked.
* * * * *
HE WAS out of his mind.
Luke pulled up to the apartment complex address Derek had texted him and took another minute to think about what Connor had told him, and what he was getting ready to do with that information.
This wasn’t a gamble.
This was a risk, plain and simple. But a necessary one.
Dani deserved to know the whole story about the man she’d once loved in the very way she was afraid to love now.
Even if it meant Luke might end up losing her to him.
He rang the doorbell and waited. Prayed he was doing the right thing. Prayed that even if it wasn’t the right thing for him, it would mend the scars on her heart that she had never allowed to heal.
“Luke.” A red-eyed Dani dragged the door open in surprise, her voice gut-wrenchingly tattered around the edges. “What are you doing here?”
He’d rehearsed this in his head—the band aid-ripping approach he’d had all planned out. But one look at her and all he could do was drag her into his arms and hold her until she finally stopped fighting. Until she dissolved against him and allowed herself to be held, comforted. Loved.
God, I can’t lose her. Don’t let me lose her.
Luke helped Dani sit down and said softly, “Honey, I know nothing can take the pain away right now. And no amount of talking will make the loss of your father any more fathomable or manageable.” He knew from experience. “But I’m hoping this will help you with some of the anger, confusion, and hurt that’s tied into it all.”
She pulled back and looked questioningly at the print-out of the information he’d found online shortly after talking to Connor. It took a mere second for her to see the relevant names that would effectively rewrite history for her in one fell swoop.
“Luke, why are you showing me Eric’s mother’s obituary notice?”
This was the first time he’d heard her say that name without disdain and resentment.
Which simply served to multiply his worries ten-fold.
“Sweetheart, look at the date Eric’s mother died.”
“February 15th. Three years ago,” she whispered as her eyes shot back up to find answers to questions Luke knew she’d never known to ask.
Luke sat on the coffee table in front of her to tell her the side of the story Connor had been unsuccessful in getting her to listen to. Not that anyone blamed her for not wanting to even hear the man’s name mentioned. “Honey, Eric’s mother had been diagnosed the year before with an aggressive blood cancer, which he’d apparently cleaned out his savings and sold anything of value he had to pay for the bone marrow treatments she needed to stay alive.”
Dani blinked and murmured, “He used to live in this tiny studio apartment in Phoenix.” A slow dawning look of understanding crept across her face. “And I remember one of his friends asking him once why he was driving a piece-of-shit car instead of a car worthy of a junior partner at the second biggest law firm in the city.” She shook her head. “I just thought he was down-to-earth, unlike his other lawyer friends. And I’d appreciated him all the more for it.”
Luke gripped the edge of the coffee table and pushed himself to keep going. “But even after spending hundreds of thousands of dollars that year on her treatment, his mother’s condition still worsened. She didn’t have much time left, and the only option remaining was gene therapy, which again, his mother’s insurance wouldn’t cover.”
Dani’s eyelids fluttered shut in pain. Three deep breaths sawed in and out of her before she asked hoarsely, “So you’re telling me that Eric did what he did to try and save his mother’s life?”
“Yes.”
With a quiet headshake filled with hurt and a completely new variety of confusion, she asked, “Why didn’t he tell me? He never even talked about his mother. All I knew was that his mother lived out East.”
“I don’t know, sweetheart.” He grit his jaw, barely managing to force out the words, “And honestly, there’s only one man who does know.”
Her head snapped up in disbelief. “You think I should go talk to him?”
Luke clenched his teeth and shoved aside the voice inside his head that had instantly yelled, “hell no,” so loud his brain hurt. “I think you should do whatever you feel you need to do to get the answers you deserve. The answers that might even help you forgive him.”
A soft gasp slipped past her lips at the prospect of forgiveness. He watched her eyes glide out of focus as she stared at the ground, or rather memories from her past that he wasn’t privy to.
“How do I do that?” she asked, genuinely mystified. “How do I even begin to forgive him for what he did?”
“The same way I forgave you,” he replied softly.
Fresh tears filled her eyes. “You forgive me?”
“Sweetheart, I think I forgave you the moment you came clean. Just as importantly, I understand why you did it. That’s why I wanted to tell you about Eric’s mom.”
With a sigh, he spoke from his heart, even though every male fiber in his being was calling him the biggest fool in the world. “Just because you forgive his reasons, doesn’t mean you dismiss his actions, honey. I’m not saying you should forgive what he did. But maybe by talking to him, you’ll be able to find the peace to forgive him—the person, not the action. And more importantly, the peace then to forgive yourself.”
“I don’t know if I can.”
Seeing the lost expression in her eyes, he asked gently, “Do you forgive the reasons behind what Eric did? Or at least empathize?”
She thought about it for several long, silent seconds. “Yes.”
Hell, he did too. Honestly, Luke didn’t know how differently he’d handled things had he been in Luke’s shoes. “Then start there.” He leaned forward and pressed his lips to her forehead, wishing he could read her mind right now. “Do what you need to do to find that peace, sweetheart. Take your time.”
And then come back t
o me.
The last, he hoped, she could read in his mind.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
DANI SAT in the same spot long after Luke left, and attempted to process how her entire world had shifted in the last few hours. She was now an orphan, and Eric was no longer the soul-less villain she’d relegated him to be three years ago.
And Luke wanted her to forgive herself...the same way he’d forgiven her.
She looked at the blank spot on her ring finger where Eric’s engagement ring had once sat and wondered if she would’ve forgiven him back then had she known what she did now.
Probably.
She’d certainly loved him enough.
For hours, she sat and asked herself questions she’d never even considered the answers for, played out dozens of starkly varied scenarios of how her life would be right now had things been different.
And then, irony of all ironies, she compared what Eric had done to her and her business against what she’d done to Luke and his business.
It was a sobering comparison.
Picking up her cell phone, her fingers dialed the numbers out of rote memory, the voice answering on the other end slamming memories into her like a freight train.
“Hello?”
“Eric?” she said softly.
After a stark silence, his voice returned with shock, “Dani?”
Try though she did, she couldn’t separate the anger from her memories. Not yet. She simply wasn’t that evolved. And Eric, being Eric, just let her sit there and silently rage.
In retrospect, that’s how their fights used to be as well.
Not nearly as much satisfying—or fun—as fighting with Luke.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” she demanded finally, the mere thought of Luke calming her like nothing else could. “We were engaged to be married. Why didn’t you ever tell me about your mother?”
Eric sounded older, more regretful than she’d ever heard him. “Because I was ashamed.”
What? “What on earth for?”
“I’d been a crappy son. I went off to law school and got so caught up in being this big deal attorney making the big bucks, I pretty much ignored my mother. I went from calling her once a week, to once a month until I got the job in Phoenix. Then, I was lucky if I remembered to call her on her birthday and holidays.” Shame and loss of equal measure blanketed his words. “I didn’t even know she had cancer until months after she’d been diagnosed. I never checked my messages.” A self-flogging laugh escaped his lips. “Can you believe that? My mom had to tell me on my answering machine that she had cancer. And I actually screened that message, shoved it into the memory as soon as I heard her say hello.”
“Eric, I’m sure she understood. You were just starting out in your career.”
“That’s what made it worse. She did understand. She didn’t call back after that because she didn’t want to ‘bother’ me. If one of the interns at her hospital hadn’t mistakenly called me instead of her actual emergency contact, I might have never known she was sick until it was too late.” He sighed. “So I didn’t tell you because I was ashamed. I thought you’d be as disgusted with me as I was. And I didn’t want you to see my worst flaws; I didn’t want to lose you over them.”
More similarities they shared.
His tone changed, softened as he asked her a question in return, “Would you have gone through with the deal if I had told you about my mom from the start?”
One of the many questions she’d already asked herself.
“I think I would have. And just as importantly, I think my dad would have, too.” Though she was being the pot to his kettle, she said candidly, “You should have trusted us. Trusted that we would’ve done what we could to help you. Everything might have actually worked out.”
The measured pause on his end primed her for the question she knew was coming.
“Everything? Would you have stayed with me? Married me like we’d planned?”
The answer no longer freaked her out anymore. “Yes.”
His quiet curse had her smiling in surprise. Eric never cursed.
“Would you still marry me now?”
Ah, now that sounded more like the old Eric she knew.
Her chuckles turned into outright laughter. “Do you really want me to answer that?”
“Yes,” he rumbled immediately, before following-up with a sighing, “No.”
Something told her he already knew about Luke.
“Are you happy with him? That chocolate shop guy?” His tone was sincere, though it sounded like he was gnashing his teeth over the word ‘chocolate.’
“Yes. Which is surprising. He’s really different from you.”
“Yeah? Like I-still-have-a-chance different?”
She could almost see his green eyes brightening at the end of that question mark. God, she’d forgotten why she’d fallen in love with the man in the first place. He was the most outrageous flirt. In a sweet, ‘come hang out with my labrador’ way.
But there was also something in his voice that made her consider her answer carefully. “Luke was the one who told me about your mom. And he’s the one who encouraged me to call you…and forgive you.”
“Damn. Of course he had to be a friggin’ saint.”
She didn’t know who this new Eric was, but she liked him. Didn’t love him. But could definitely see being friends with him. One day.
“Do you?” he asked quietly. “Forgive me?”
“No.” She had to be honest. Even though the pain she heard in his near silent exhale made her hurt as well. “But I want to. And I think I will. One day.”
“That’s more that I deserve, frankly. If I thought it would help, I’d spend the rest of my life apologizing to you.”
“Then I’d spend the rest of mine telling you it wasn’t your fault.”
She could hear the question marks in his patient silence.
Again, so different from Luke.
“I said I don’t forgive you; I didn’t say I still blame you. You did what you needed to do for someone you love. The only fault there is in that is loving that person beyond all reason and ramification.”
“Dani. You don’t have to do that. Like I said, I don’t deserve it.”
“Well, you’re going to damn well accept it.”
A surprised chuckle rang out from his end. “Wow. You really have changed.”
“Yep. Haven’t you heard? I’m all hardcore now. I issue throwdowns and take no prisoners.”
His chuckle deepened. “I have heard.”
“I also collect on debts owed to me.”
“Yeah?” Amusement and curiosity battled for dominance over that one word.
“Uh-huh. And you, mister, owe me big time. The day I forgive you is the day I’ll start collecting. Just so you know.”
He was smiling now, she could hear it. “I’ve missed you, Dani. You tell Luke I said he’s one lucky guy. One very lucky, very brave guy.”
Aw, that compliment just got him one day closer to debt-collection day.
* * * * *
LUKE WAS ready to lose it.
It had been two whole days since he’d broken the Eric news to Dani and the woman hadn’t called him. Not once, dammit.
Well, to be fair, it was only a day and a half, really, considering it was four in the morning right now…
Okay, okay, and their talk had been late in the evening and she had texted him before she’d gone to bed to thank him for coming over. So technically, mathematically, it was really more like one day.
Longest freakin’ day of his life.
And it wasn’t helping one bit that he was sitting in his soon-to-be-closed shop, unable to do shit about that situation either.
As he stared out across the pitch-black side lot that led to Ocotillos, out of the blue, Luke remembered the story that waitress had told him and the guys about how, even when they were looking at closing their doors for good, instead of wallowing, Vince Dobson had thrown everything into one last brew. One fi
nal recipe.
Huh.
One last chocolate. One final recipe.
Yeah. That, he could do.
While his heart rarely got involved in the chocolatiering process, today it was clearly calling all the shots. Within minutes, Luke was a man on a mission, tempering the butterless couverture white chocolate before adding the rich cream that would thicken it into a consistency somewhere between a truffle and a mold chocolate.
The logical part of his brain knew that making a new chocolate now was just going to be painful since it’d only have a home in this shop for a few more months before they shut down for good. He didn’t care. This one was just for him. And Dani.
Time zipped by as he created a layered flavor profile for the paste-thick creamy centers. The layered center would be firm enough to cut into squares but still soft in texture, reminiscent of his whip fillings.
While it hardened in the cooler, he focused on the design, heating red cocoa butter to liquid and brushing it onto a sheet of food-safe mylar in random geometric patterns—one of the first tricks he’d learned years ago to transfer deco art designs onto chocolates. Dipping the square-cut centers into newly tempered white chocolate, he then pressed the coated chocolate onto the dried mylar sheet design. And just like with those kiddie tattoos, voila, the red cocoa butter patterns transferred onto the chocolate squares.
As a final touch, he carved out an organic design around the swirls with a tiny blade and sprinkled vanilla-infused red crystallized sugar into the grooves.
Then it was done.
A new chocolate. Fittingly, a red and white one.
And for once, Quinn wasn’t the first person he wanted to taste it.
He decided then and there as he stared down at his final chocolate that if Dani didn’t call him today, he wasn’t just going to sit back and wallow. Nope. Shop or no shop, she was his future. And as soon as she woke up, he was going to stomp over there and demand that the stubborn woman marry him already so they could get started on that future.
A loud rapping noise broke into his thoughts.
Who would be knocking on the storefront entrance at seven in the morning?
