by Emma Quinn
“Oh, it’s been perfect for dinner. But I thought we could take a walk after dinner.”
He smiled and it made him look even sexier.
When they finished dinner, they passed on desert, because Helen was so excited now. She hadn’t been sure of her plan before, but now she was. This was the best idea she could have come up with and now she wasn’t afraid to follow through with it.
Liquid courage.
She finally understood what people meant when they said that. The wine had fortified her and now she was ready.
She half dragged him down the street after insisting they were dropped off outside her parents’ restaurant. It felt almost naughty to bring him here, knowing that her parents were asleep on the second story of their restaurant. They could look out the upstairs window at any moment and see the pair of them running around.
It made her giggle.
“Helen, are you going to tell me where we’re going?”
“You’ll see,” she promised. “It’ll be worth it.”
11
Michael
B
eing with Helen made Michael feel like a kid again. She represented a simpler time, in some ways. It was the thing that had attracted him to Tiffani, he admitted, but with Helen it was different. She was freer than Tiffani, less concerned with how things looked from the outside in.
“Are you going to tell me where we’re going?” he asked after he heard her let out a small giggle. His driver dropped them off in the neighborhood where her parents’ restaurant was and he was a little surprised that they were walking around freely after dark.
It seemed dangerous to him.
“You’ll see,” she promised, turning to look back at him as she tugged at his hand to encourage him to keep moving. “It’ll be worth it.”
Her smile was bright and there was a little added color to her cheeks. Maybe it was the chill of the night air, or maybe it was the wine, but she seemed so happy to be here with him that he couldn’t really make himself care.
Instead, he just found himself smiling along with her, letting her lead him to wherever she had in mind.
They crossed the street until they were almost directly across from the restaurant. There weren’t any lights on and there were only a few street lamps illuminating the area. He frowned a little. Helen was a beautiful young woman—would she be safe out here at night?
I’ll protect her, a voice in the back of his head was quick to answer.
“Helen, maybe we should head back,” he began. He realized that voice in his head was absolutely right. He wouldn’t let anything happen to Helen, but he also acknowledged that the easiest way to keep her safe was to keep her in a safer area.
And whether his reports or her reports were correct, he couldn’t imagine it was safe to be wandering around in the dark.
A second later, he realized where they were going, just as Helen answered, “Nope. I’m going to show you the most beautiful place in the world.”
Then she led him into the park.
There was a wrought iron fence around the edges of the park, but no gate. There was only an entry way with the words Southgate Park written with the same wrought iron across the top in an arch. Michael admitted that it was elegantly done.
Michael half expected to be jumped as soon as they stepped inside the entryway to the park, but instead they were met with silence. Silence was rare in the city and it surprised Michael.
Helen put her finger to her lips, emphasizing that they should uphold that silence and grinned at Michael, tugging him along farther into the park.
The pathway was paved, wide enough for two, maybe three people to walk shoulder to shoulder. Along the edges of the path were plants. Grass was kept relatively short and green and there were trees that were close enough to the path to provide shade in the summer. Now, they cast shadows over the walkway, dipped in brilliant moonlight until they were nearly glowing with it.
Despite the cold, there were flowers clinging to life and bushes with berries that were deep shades of orange, red, and even purple.
Michael didn’t see a playground for kids or anything like that, but as they followed the path deeper into the park, he heard the sound of running water. He turned to Helen, lifting an eyebrow at her in question.
She grinned at him and leaned close enough to whisper in his ear, “There’s an underground stream that comes up here at the park.”
This surprised him, but then, everything in the park was surprising him. It was nothing like he expected.
They followed the pathway as it curved around. Helen had slowed down so that they were walking together now, her pressing closer to him for warmth as her arm slipped into his.
On their left, Michael spotted a park bench. And no one was sleeping on it, no one was getting high. In fact, he hadn’t seen anyone here apart for the two of them.
She led him straight to the bench, then pointed at the plaque on it. “A tribute to beauty,” she read. “Because we should all have the chance to appreciate it.”
“That’s beautiful,” he admitted. “This isn’t at all what I expected the park to be like.”
Her smile was knowing. “That’s why I thought I would show you.” She tugged at his arm to get him to continue on their walk. “I figured the reports would help my case, but the best evidence that this place is worth keeping is seeing it in person.”
She was absolutely right.
Even if she had described the park’s beauty, how the moonlight illuminated the path even as the trees overhead cast shifting shadows above and the vegetation fought to grow even in the cold of February, he didn’t think he would have understood what those words really meant.
It was difficult to describe something like this.
They continued along the walkway until they reached the small stream Helen had mentioned. It came up out of a small slopped hill beneath a tree, a bench just off to the side. The water trickled down into a small pool that was lined with large rounded rocks.
Helen led Michael to the bench, encouraging him to sit when she did.
“I never knew this was here,” he murmured, his voice keeping low in the stillness of the place.
She leaned her head on his shoulder. “I’ve been going here since I was a kid,” she said. “I always loved to study the different flowers here.” She turned her face up to look at him and then grinned. “I know, that’s pretty nerdy.”
He smiled back at her. “A little. But I don’t think that’s a bad thing.”
“Good, because I’m still a little nerdy.”
“I can tell.”
She laughed softly. “Thanks.”
“It was a compliment, I assure you.”
“Good.”
He found himself leaning towards her. Her eyes slid closed, her head resting against his shoulder, her chin tilted up slightly so that her face was angled towards his.
He almost kissed her.
Their lips were so close that he could feel the warmth of her radiating. Then they parted and a small breath escaped her lips.
He paused, pulling back slightly. The movement caused her head to shift against his shoulder and he realized that she was asleep.
He laughed a little to himself. “Not much of a drinker, are you?” he murmured.
She shifted slightly against him, curling herself closer. Michael realized that it was time to go home, that their date was sadly over. But he had hope that there might be a second date now.
Carefully, he shifted himself until he managed to slip an arm behind her shoulders and the other beneath her legs at her knees. Then he lifted her up. She shifted in his arms, but only enough so that she was leaned more comfortably against him. If she woke, it wasn’t for more than a moment and she quickly fell back asleep.
Michael took a last moment to appreciate the beauty of the little oasis in the city before turning and carrying Helen out of the park.
He walked her to the limo, the driver quickly getting out to open the door for him
. Michael eased Helen inside, then frowned. He turned to the driver. “I have no idea where she lives,” he admitted.
The driver adjusted his cap, scratching at the side of his head. “Where would you like to go then, sir?”
Michael sighed. “I suppose home would be best.”
The driver nodded. “Yes, sir.”
Michael got into the limo and adjusted Helen so that she was asleep against his shoulder again, allowing him to buckle her in. He briefly admitted to himself that he might have had some luck going to her parents. It looked like they lived above the restaurant, though he couldn’t be positive. And realistically, he wasn’t sure Helen wanted her parents to know that she’d been on a date with him.
That might have been embarrassing for her.
The driver pulled to a stop outside of Michael’s home, then opened the door for him. “Do you need any help, sir?”
Michael smiled, getting out of the car and then pulling Helen into his arms. “Just with the door, if you don’t mind.”
“Not at all, sir.”
The driver hurried over to get the door, briefly taking Michael’s key to unlock it and then opening it for Michael as he carried Helen inside.
“Thank you.”
“Of course. Have a good evening, sir.”
Keys returned, the driver headed out, taking the limo with him. Michael carried Helen up the stairs, gently cradling her in his arms, her head against his chest. She seemed almost fragile against him and it softened something inside him even further.
He stopped beside his bed, taking a moment to pull back the covers before settling her on the mattress. She shifted onto her side, adjusting her head easily on the pillow, but never seemed to really wake up. He pulled the covers up over her, tucking her into bed.
With a sigh, he shook his head.
It wasn’t exactly how he’d pictured the night ending, but he wasn’t all that upset about it. Everything about that night had been unexpected and he found it all refreshing.
Leaving her to sleep, Michael made his way downstairs to the couch. He spent about an hour watching TV before finally crashing out himself.
12
Helen
H
elen stretched her arms high over her head and extended her legs beneath the covers, curling her toes as she woke up. It took her a moment to realize that her bed was softer than usual and the covers were thicker, silkier, more luxurious than normal… When she did, she sat up quickly.
And immediately regretted it.
Her head ached intensely, her hand going to her hair to press her palm against the throbbing. “Jeez, what happened?”
As soon as she asked that question, she realized that last night had been her blackmail date with Michael. Then she noticed that this was not her bed and not her room. Judging by the enormity of the room, this was probably his.
“Oh, god,” she murmured, her eyes going wide.
She’d had a lot of wine last night, hadn’t she? And she’d taken him to the park for a walk. She’d leaned against him, tilted her head up to his… and then what? She couldn’t remember. There was a vague sense that she’d been rocked or maybe carried, but other than that she wasn’t quite sure.
Swallowing thickly, she worried that something had happened the night before.
Had they kissed?
Had they done more than kissed?
Her stomach churned with the thought that she did something the night before that she regretted now. Maybe under normal circumstances it would have been okay to discover that she’d slept with super sexy, super rich Mr. Michael Roth, but not when she was intoxicated! Not when she was so drunk that she couldn’t even remember!
It made her feel horrible—until she threw back the covers and realized that she was still completely dressed. She double checked, but sure enough she was still wearing panties and her bra. And she was alone in bed.
All of this helped to settle her nerves.
Maybe nothing happened the night before. Feeling calmer than she had when first waking up, Helen pushed the covers the rest of the way off of her and threw her legs over the side of the bed. She found her shoes there, set neatly beside the bed. She slipped them on and started looking around to see if she could find Michael.
There was an adjoining bathroom that was as big as her bedroom at home. It was empty.
There were two enormous closets that she could have comfortably slept in. One was filled with nothing but suits and ties. The other… had dresses. Fancy dresses. Expensive dresses.
She frowned at those.
Who did those belong to?
She left the closets and opened the last door on the opposite wall. It led out into a long hallway. She recognized it from when she’d stopped at the house before for her meeting with Mr. Roth, confirming that the house was definitely his.
Who’s else would it be? She thought mildly to herself.
She found the stairs and finally felt better about where she was in relation to other things at least. She still hadn’t figured out where Michael was, but at least now she knew where she was. That brought her a bit of comfort.
She made it to the first floor, but stopped at the base of the stairs when the front door opened.
Helen had expected it to be Michael.
It wasn’t.
“Who the hell are you?”
A beautiful woman stood before Helen. So beautiful that she looked like she belonged in a magazine or a movie, to perfect for reality. Her hair was full and dark, perfectly curled. It made Helen pat at her own hair, realizing that she hadn’t even brushed it yet. The woman’s make up looked like it must have been professionally done, maybe even air-brushed on, she looked that perfect.
She was wearing a short gauzy dress that looked like it was a curtain from the Great Gatsby blowing all on its own, no wind necessary, and her heels were gold. Hell, maybe they were even real, solid gold. Helen wouldn’t be surprised at this point.
“Um, hi.”
The woman raised a single, perfectly done eyebrow. “Hi. What are you doing here? Are you the new help? I know Ms. Easel was looking for a new house maid, but I was expecting someone a little…” The woman eyed Helen, letting her sharp gaze cut up and down Helen’s body. “…Neater.”
“Oh, um, I’m… I’m not the maid.”
When the woman said nothing, just started tapping her golden toe impatiently, Helen cleared her throat.
Because she wasn’t quite sure how to introduce herself—Hi, I’m the woman who briefly thought she got drunk and slept with Michael because he blackmailed me into a date to save my parents’ restaurant sounded ridiculous—she smiled and asked, “Who are you?”
The woman pursed her pouty lips together tightly until they were in a tight, thin line. It looked for a moment that she wouldn’t even bother answering Helen, but then she said, “Tiffani Driessen.” She paused, then extended her left hand, wiggling it so that the huge rock on her ring finger caught the lights. “Michael’s fiancée.”
Helen felt as though the wind had been knocked out of her. “Fiancée?”
Helen couldn’t help but stare at the huge ring perched on Tiffani’s finger. Clearly an engagement ring. The diamond was so big that Helen wondered if it weighed the woman down when she swam. There was still a small part of Helen that tried to problem solve and come up with alternative explanations for that ring and who this woman might have been.
Maybe she was a liar and that ring was a fake.
Or maybe she was engaged, but to a different Michael.
Maybe this was all a huge misunderstanding and she had the wrong address.
But every idea seemed less plausible than the last. It left Helen feeling as though a stone was dropped into her stomach, sinking to the bottom and taking any strange ideas of a second date with them, drowning them permanently.
“Oh.”
Tiffani smiled, showing bright, white teeth. She really looked like a model. “Here, honey, let me help you out a little.” She took her
phone out of the shimmery clutch she was carrying and unlocked it. She flipped through it until she found what she was looking for, then she turned it around so that Helen could see the screen.
It was a picture of Tiffani smiling brightly. Wrapped up in her arms… was Michael.
Helen swallowed thickly. “I-I’m sorry. I didn’t realize—” she began, but Tiffani was flipping to the next picture.
It was another one with both of them, but this showed them kissing deeply, eyes closed and everything.
Helen suddenly felt sick.
“I should go.”
Tiffani smiled and there might have been a hint of apology there. “I think that’s probably for the best, don’t you?”
Helen only nodded. She pushed past Tiffani, feeling humiliated and so stupid. It occurred to her that she didn’t drive herself, that her car wasn’t there, and almost asked the model-esque woman for a ride, but stopped herself before adding to her own humiliation.
She would walk before she did that.
In the end, she managed to call a cab and took it home. She turned off her phone so that she wouldn’t have to deal with getting a call from anyone, not that she expected to hear anything from Michael.
After all, he clearly had other things to keep himself occupied.
13
Michael
M
ichael slowed his pace to a jog as he made his way around the back end of the property towards the house again. There was something refreshing about a morning run. It gave him a boost of energy that lasted throughout the morning and kept his spirits up even when things were looking grim. After things had gone south with Tiffani, he’d doubled his morning runs and found that they’d done more to help with his mood than just about anything else.
Besides thinking of Helen, he found himself thinking.
His breathing was heavy, but not difficult, and as his feet continued in a rhythmic pattern on the trail, he thought of the beautiful woman in his bed.
Helen had opened his eyes to the park last night and reminded him what it was like to spend some real time with a woman, not fighting over stupid things or making meaningless compromises for the sake of appearances. Just spending time with one another.
