It's Not Over

by Grahame Claire

  Daniel’s eyes were on me, which had my feet rooted in place. Even across the room, he had this pull on me, a magnetism that was difficult to resist. And I wasn’t so sure I wanted to.

  The woman beside Daniel followed his gaze. I had become the focus of her attention too. I shifted from one foot to the other under the intense scrutiny. It felt like she was the one-woman judging panel for a contest I didn’t realize I was participating in. From here, I couldn’t tell what my score was, and I wasn’t sure why I gave a shit what she thought of me, but I did.

  Daniel said something to her and began moving in my direction, the woman right on his heels.

  “Vivian.” His voice slid across my skin, goosebumps rising.

  “Happy Thanksgiving, Daniel,” I said, proud I sounded unaffected by him when I was anything but. “I’m Vivian.” I introduced myself to the woman without waiting for Daniel’s lead.

  “Muriella.” Her eyes were mocha gemstones that sparkled as she looked up at me. Her whole face illuminated when she smiled. When her small hand extended toward me, I took it.

  “Pleased to meet you,” I said.

  “How do the two of you know one another?” she asked, arching a brow at Daniel, like he should have already mentioned that.

  “We met at the fundraiser I went to a few weeks ago for Paths of Purpose,” he supplied, and I perked up. Daniel answered to this woman, yet I didn’t get a romantic vibe at all. More familial. And I wasn’t jealous. That had to be some kind of sign, right?

  “Is he typically a stalker? Is that how y’all met? Because I can’t get rid of him,” I mock huffed, shoving playfully at his arm. He scowled, and Muriella grinned.

  “I haven’t known him to be like that,” she said. “But maybe he’s never found anyone who truly interested him.”

  “I’m standing right here,” he interjected, shoving his hands in the pockets of his slacks.

  I glanced at him as if startled. “I forgot.” His eyes narrowed, his lips creasing into a pout, and I grinned, throwing a wink at Muriella. I pinched his cheek. “Oh, Princess. You’re impossible to ignore,” I conceded. Though I’d said it sarcastically, they were maybe the most true words I’d ever spoken.

  “Seems that’s true of you, as well,” he muttered. “I’m going to see if I can be of some help somewhere. You two remember why you’re here…and it’s not to gossip about me.”

  “We’ll try to keep that in mind,” I tossed at his back as he sauntered away. My face hurt from smiling so hard. “Want to come with me to the kitchen?”

  “Of course,” she said with conviction, and off we went.

  Once there, we got to work unwrapping things. We were doing this family style instead of buffet, which I thought added an intimate flair to the event. This food wasn’t slop dumped out of a can and served in foil pans. The green beans were fresh, the assortment of breads homemade, the sweet potatoes fluffy—all presented in elegant, white porcelain serveware. Very nice, but probably not within Paths of Purpose’s budget.

  “Did Daniel have anything to do with this?” I asked Muriella as I carried a bowl of mashed potatoes to a table.

  She shrugged nonchalantly. “I can’t keep track of everything he does.” Her non-answer was a confirmation that he had arranged all of this. I liked that he didn’t want a bit of credit for it.

  The large room filled up quickly, with so many it soon became standing room only. Of course, the kids didn’t keep their seats long after they discovered that new toys and games and books had miraculously appeared in the small game room. There was a mountain of things for the children, and there was no doubt in my mind who they could thank for it all.

  Muriella and I bounced from playing with the children to chatting with the ladies as they ate, getting to know one another in the meantime. She was vetting me, but I didn’t mind her protectiveness of Daniel. She had to make sure I was good enough for him. Just like a sister would do.

  The crowd dispersed after the meal, and I wandered toward Daniel as he gravitated toward me.

  “Thank you,” I said, bumping him with my shoulder as we both watched Muriella color a picture with a quiet little girl.

  “For what?” His gaze sent off a ripple of tingles through me. I felt it before I met his eyes.

  “You did all this.” I gestured around the room, taking in the smiles and full bellies.

  “I’m just here.” He brushed it off as if he weren’t responsible for any of this joy.

  We remained silent for a moment, soaking in the scene before us. Muriella held up the coloring book the girl had been working in, showing us a strawberry picture shaded a bright red. I gave two thumbs up and smiled, the sweet child’s eyes brightening from that simple praise.

  “She means a lot to you.” I pointed my chin at Muriella.

  “That she does.”

  “You should tell her sometime. She already knows, but it’s nice to hear when someone cares.” Daniel grunted a response, which was more than I’d expected. He was a locked vault when it came to sharing his feelings. “I’m going to help clean up.”

  He followed me, holding a black garbage bag while I disposed of empty paper plates and cups. We worked in silence, his focus often on Muriella, as if he were uncomfortable if she got out of his sight. Daniel was protective of her, overly so, despite the absence of any threat. It seemed a bit stifling, and though I didn’t know him well, I suspected he wouldn’t behave that way without reason. If it bothered Muriella, she didn’t show it.

  Muriella had a Cheshire cat smile when she joined us to clear the tables. “Vivian, why don’t you come over for dinner after this?”

  “Oh, I’d love to, but I’m stuffed.” I patted my stomach, which was filled with the best meal I’d had in weeks. Just thinking about more food made me want to pass out.

  “You’re already tired of Daniel, aren’t you?” She bit her lip to keep from grinning, and I discreetly held out my hand for a low five. When she slapped it, I felt like I had maybe passed the tests she’d put me through. If this kept up, Muriella and I were going to get along famously. Daniel scowled at me and my potential new partner in crime.

  “Let’s put it this way. If I joined you for supper, it wouldn’t be because of him.” His lips thinned, and he shot me a look of caution, which I promptly ignored. “Did he put you up to asking me out?”

  “I did not,” he said, not bothering to hide his irritation.

  Muriella snickered. “No. It was all me. Since you won’t do dinner, we’ll have lunch tomorrow.” This wasn’t a request. The tiny thing was bossing me around. I didn’t mind in the least. It was a chance to do some digging and perhaps make a new friend in the process.

  “Is he coming?” I cut my eyes over to Daniel, feigning disdain.

  “I am.”

  “He is not.”

  “Now that that’s settled, can we meet around noon, Muriella ? I have to work, but we shouldn’t be too busy. Most everyone else is off until Monday.”

  “Sounds perfect. Text me the address of your office, and I’ll come to you. Without him .” She pointed at Daniel and narrowed her eyes.

  “I know where you work.” There was no bite to his warning.

  “You won’t interfere,” I told him.

  “Not unless I need to.”

  * * *

  “How much time do we have?” Muriella linked her arm through mine as soon as I met her in the lobby of the Hamerstein building.

  “Standard hour.” I made a face and pushed through the revolving door. We squeezed in the same slot together, earning a look from security standing nearby. “I could really use a liquid lunch.”

  “Maybe someday when you have the afternoon off.”

  “I don’t see that happening any time soon.” I hesitated and looked down the sidewalk in both directions. “Which way?”

  Muriella’s cheeks turned pink. “Straight ahead.” The familiar dark car was parked at the curb. “Hope you don’t mind, but I brought lunch.”

  My brow
s dipped, but a smile formed on my lips. “One less thing we have to decide.”

  I marched toward the car, and a driver stepped out. I cast a sideways look at Muriella, halfway expecting Daniel to be our chauffeur.

  “I told him no.” And that was all she said on the matter, as if reading my mind.

  The driver held open the back door, and we piled inside the warm interior. I rubbed both of my arms and shivered as I settled into the seat. “It feels like the beach in here.”

  “If it’s too hot—”

  “No. It’s perfect.” I put a hand on Muriella’s knee when she reached for the temperature control.

  “Anywhere in particular you’d like to go? The park isn’t too far,” she suggested.

  “Why don’t we picnic in here?”

  A broad smile lit her face. She leaned forward, and the driver turned around. “We need to be back here in fifty minutes, so anywhere you’d like to drive to accomplish that.”

  “I’ll take the scenic route,” the man returned, his expression stoic, though his tone was light.

  The partition between the front and back seats hummed as it rose. Muriella shifted a basket to the hump on the floorboard between us. I kicked off my shoes and turned to face her, tucking one leg up under me.

  “I’ve never been on a picnic,” I announced.

  She looked startled, but quickly recovered, removing containers from her basket. “Neither have I, in a car.” She opened the lid, the smell of fresh baked bread hitting my nostrils. “I hope you like roasted vegetable sandwiches.”

  “Beats the hell out of cereal.”

  Muriella paused and gave me a strange look before she began assembling the sandwiches. I marveled at how simple and beautiful she made it look.

  “Here you go.” She passed me a plate, and I set it in my lap.

  “Hope there’s plenty of napkins.” She rummaged in the bag and gave me a stack. “I won’t be held responsible for the mess I make.”

  Her nose wrinkled. “I didn’t think about how messy this would be.”

  I picked up the sandwich, and a drop of dark liquid landed on my plate. We looked at each other and burst into giggles.

  “Maybe a balsamic reduction wasn’t the best idea,” she muttered.

  I took a bite and shook my head. “Oh yes it was.” Had I ever eaten anything this good? Not lately, that was for damn sure.

  She blushed and hid her smile behind her own bite. Once she swallowed, she set her sandwich down and wiped her mouth. “So after the internship, will you stay in New York or head back to Texas?”

  “Someone would have to drag me back to Dallas kicking and screaming.” I popped a chip in my mouth. “These homemade?”

  She nodded before cocking her head to the side. “I thought people from Texas didn’t like to be anywhere else.”

  “That’s usually true, but I can’t go back.”

  Concern filled her eyes. “Are you in trouble?” she asked quietly.

  I grinned. “Always.” Her shoulders relaxed and she tucked a leg under her, mirroring my position. “Don’t tell me you’d already miss me if I was gone?”

  “I have a feeling I wouldn’t be the only one,” she said under her breath.

  “Do you and Daniel live together?” I hadn’t quite figured out their relationship yet. What the hell? Might as well find out what I could.

  “I’m in the apartment below his.”

  “Is that how y’all know each other?”

  A shadow crossed her face, and I regretted the question. “No.” Her eyes met mine. “He saved my life.”

  My brows shot to my hair line. I shoved another bite of sandwich into my mouth because I didn’t know what to say to that. A million questions zipped through my brain, but I didn’t give voice to any of them. Muriella would tell me what she wanted me to know in her own time.

  “My father won’t speak to me,” I finally said after eating in silence for a few minutes. “That’s one reason I won’t go back.”

  “That’s not always a bad thing.”

  The woman constantly said the unexpected. Where I came from, I was expected to do what my parents wanted with a smile on my face. Damn sure wasn’t supposed to make a stink about it. But I wasn’t going to apologize when it was my daddy who was in the wrong.

  “You ever been married?” I asked, changing the subject.

  Her posture went rigid, and her hands froze halfway to her mouth. “No,” she said softly. Sadness flashed in her eyes.

  “Me neither.” I cocked my head to the side. “Would your parents ever try to force you into a marriage you didn’t want?”

  “My father absolutely would.”

  Damn. She’d gotten me again with her answers. I shrugged. “Then maybe I overreacted when mine did,” I muttered.

  “You should never, ever, let anyone else control your life,” she said with a vehemence that told me I was getting into tricky territory.

  I set aside my empty plate and edged closer to her. It was time for a little girl talk. “Now tell me everything I need to know about Daniel.”

  She laughed, and though I liked that it felt like I could talk to Muriella about anything, I was glad to be back on safer ground.

  “Just keep doing what you’re doing.”

  I threw my hands up. “That was a big help.”

  Her smile broadened. “How about chocolate chip cookies? Would those help?”

  I clutched my chest. “M, you really know how to get to a girl.” I fluttered my lashes and she swatted at my knee. “I mean it. You wooed me on the first date.”

  “Did I say I had cookies? This cold weather must be getting to me,” she said innocently.

  “Hand over the goods, sister.” I held out my hand, and she passed me a cookie. “They’re still warm,” I said in awe.

  She gave me a smug look. “You’re really impressed now.”

  “No doubt.” I grabbed her hand and examined her fingers before I held up mine. “Nice nail polish.”

  “Should I be afraid that we think alike?” She mock-shuddered, and I swiped a piece of her cookie. “Hey!”

  I broke off some of my own and gave it to her. “So when are we doing this again?”

  “Tomorrow works for me.”

  * * *

  On December fourteenth, a Friday after work, Daniel was waiting for me outside the office, already shrugging out of his cashmere coat when I pushed out into the falling snow. I accepted it with only a little protest, all for effect. I loved the way he smelled, and every time that coat was wrapped around me, it was a gift I wasn’t going to reject. Before we started for the subway station, I changed into my ballet shoes, which were horrible on the wet sidewalks. It was the next step in our routine when he met me after work. Daniel still held his breath every time I leaned on him for balance. I hadn’t decided which part I liked better—being surrounded by his scent or taking his breath away.

  “I’d rather Muriella were here, but I guess you’ll do. At least you’re good for a coat,” I said, tucking my hand in the crook of his arm to keep it warm.

  “I’m glad to know I’m useful for something,” he muttered dryly. He hadn’t mentioned my lack of a jacket again, which I appreciated. I’d been saving for one, but my money didn’t go very far. “Muriella would be pleased to hear you prefer her company to mine, but I suspect she probably already knows.”

  “You sound jealous, Mr. Elliott.”

  “Please and jealous. Two words I don’t do.” We descended the stairs into the subway at a leisurely pace, oblivious to the people flowing around us on both sides.

  “You’ve broadened your vocabulary to include please,” I corrected him. He cast a side-eye, and I flashed him a mischievous grin as I broke free to pass through the turnstile, today without protest from the machine. He offered his arm to me once we were clear, and I took it as we fell back in step together. “How many compliments did I get this week?”

  “For what?” he asked warily.

  “Your improved co
urting skills. I bet the women you’ve taken out are impressed.”

  “None.”

  I stopped walking, earning a few curses from people behind me, and put my hands on my hips. “You’re kidding. I thought we were making baby steps toward improving your lady skills.”

  “I’m not trying to improve my—how did you put it?—‘lady skills.’” He began to walk again. I didn’t follow him immediately, waiting for him to notice I wasn’t beside him. It didn’t take long. He turned his head, gave me a look to get my ass in gear, to which I rolled my eyes and shook my head. He mouthed, Please , eyes glittering, and I closed the gap between us.

  “See how easy it is to get what you want?”

  It was his turn to roll his eyes. “At the risk of inflating your already large ego, you are the only person I will ever utter that word to.” Something inside of me puffed up, and I bit my lip so I didn’t let my grin show.

  “A wise choice, sir,” I returned, pulling him along so we’d make my train.

  It was standing room only, so I grasped a loop hanging from the metal bar, wobbling when the car started to move. Daniel put his arm around my waist to steady me. It was a reflex. His natural instinct was to protect me. “I don’t need you.”

  “I’m well aware of that fact.” There was a lightness in his tone I liked. It had been nearly two months since the charity event, and he kept trying, hadn’t given up on me. Something was changing between us. He proved day by day that he wasn’t above earning my time instead of expecting it.

  “Why are you riding the subway when you could be chauffeured around the city?”

  “Because you’re on the subway, and glutton for punishment that I am, I find I enjoy your company.”

  “Of course you do,” I said as if he’d stated the obvious. Inside, however, everything started to tingle. He snorted and discreetly pulled me closer. As if he were commanding the train, it came to an abrupt stop, and I stumbled, bumping into his muscular frame. People moved around us, but we just stood there, staring at one another.