Romeo for Hire

by Ali Parker

Stepping off the plane, I pushed past everyone to make it to baggage claim. Now that I was in Seattle, I could think of only one thing—finding Candice.

  She was here, somewhere in this city. Leslie didn’t know the name of Candice’s hotel. Candice refused to tell her because she didn’t want to be found. Still, I knew Candice well enough to know where to start my search.

  Grabbing my bag off the conveyor, I darted out onto the sidewalk were a line of cabs was waiting to take passengers into the city. I pulled open the back door of the first one and tossed my bag inside. Sliding in after it, I asked the driver to take me to the center of downtown. That was where I would start my search.

  Wherever she was, Candice didn’t want to see me. The fact that she hadn’t answered a single phone call in two days was proof enough of that. Part of me wanted to run back to New York and prepare myself for life without her, but I knew I would never succeed. Candice was already too much a part of me. We’d been through hell together, and I didn’t want to make it out without her by my side.

  “Here is fine,” I told the driver.

  He stopped the cab, and I tossed a couple bills over the front seat. He nodded as I climbed out of the car and slowly turned in a circle.

  I’d never been to Seattle before. Taking a second to get my bearings, I let my eyes roam over the city. Countless hotels stood in the heart of downtown Seattle. Candice could have been in any of them, but I knew she would choose the nicest. If she wanted to escape from reality, she wasn’t going to do it in a Marriot.

  The first hotel I tried was tall and beautiful. The building extended up into the sky, the top disappearing among a layer of low-hanging clouds.

  “Excuse me,” I said as I stepped up to the front desk. “I’m looking for a woman who might be staying here. Her name is Candice Smart. She has dark hair and she’s about—”

  “I’m sorry,” the woman said with an awkward grimace. “We aren’t allowed to give out any information about the guests.”

  “Can’t you just tell me if she’s staying here?” I asked.

  She shook her head. “No,” she said. “I’m sorry. That violates our confidentiality promise.”

  “But I—”

  “I’m sorry, sir.”

  The woman’s voice was full of practiced grace, but there was a note of finality that told me to leave. Accepting defeat, I nodded and turned on my heel. With my bag thrown over my shoulder, I moved on to the next hotel.

  The answer was the same. They weren’t allowed to give out any information.

  I went to a third hotel. Then a fourth. By the time the seventh place turned me away, I knew it was useless. There was no way in hell I was going to find her this way.

  Yanking my phone out of my pocket, I dialed Kason’s number. He answered quickly and gave me Leslie’s number without objection.

  “I gave her your address,” he said. “I guess a phone number’s a fair trade.”

  Leslie answered on the second ring, her voice low and nervous. I was worried she was with her mother until I realized it was Monday morning and she was probably at work.

  “I’m sorry to bother you,” I said quickly. “But I need you to find out where the hell Candice is staying. I’ve been to practically every hotel in downtown, and no one will tell me if she’s there or not.”

  “I’ll call her,” Leslie said. “I can’t promise anything, but I’ll try.”

  “Thank you.”

  Leslie hung up, and I found a bench to sit and wait. While I did, rain began to pour down over my head. It wasn’t hard at first, but the longer I sat on the bench, the faster it fell. I ducked beneath an awning and made sure my bag was safely covered, cursing myself for not bringing a raincoat to the rainiest city in the country.

  When Leslie finally called back, the rain had already begun to slow.

  “She’s staying at the Crestmont,” Leslie said. “She wouldn’t tell me what room, though.”

  “That’s okay.” My heart leaped. I was going to find her. “You didn’t tell her I was here, did you?”

  Leslie scoffed. “God, no. Do you think I’m an idiot?”

  “I’m sorry. I’m just nervous.”

  Leslie paused. I could hear the sympathy in her breathing, but she was decent enough to hide her pity when she spoke.

  “Ryan,” she said. “Just find her, okay? She sounded really bad when we talked. I’m worried about her.”

  All the happiness I’d just felt vanished into thin air. Finding Candice wasn’t the problem. That part, as challenging as it had been, was nothing compared to what was to come.

  “I don’t know if she’ll talk to me,” I admitted, my own fear taking hold of me.

  “She will,” Leslie said firmly. “She has to.”

  “Why are you so determined that we work things out?” I asked suspiciously.

  “Because.” Leslie sighed. Her voice was weaker than ever. “If you don’t, I’m not sure she’s ever going to come home.”

  ***

  On my way to the Crestmont, I practiced my speech. Candice wasn’t going to forgive me easily, if at all, so I had to be ready. My apology played over and over in my mind. I told myself I would beg her to take me back, that I would say whatever I had to do to get a second chance. Even though I’d done nothing wrong, I knew her suspicions were too great to ignore. She saw her mother pressing an envelope of cash into my hand. Convincing her I didn’t take it was going to be damn near impossible.

  My mind was so full of my speech that I didn’t notice the marketplace I’d stumbled into. It wasn’t until a painting caught my eye that I realized I’d moved out of the budding metropolis and into a smaller, more intimate section of the city.

  The painting was grim, full of dark colors that seemed to match the damp weather surrounding me. As I moved closer, I noticed the painting was of two people, a man and woman. They were embracing.

  The woman’s head rested against the man’s shoulder, her hair obscuring most of her face. The little that could be seen held so much pain that it made my heart ache, but it was the man’s face that drew me in.

  A single tear was painted on his chest as if it were meant to be falling. I stared at that tear for what felt like an hour, wondering what it meant.

  “Do you like it?” someone asked from behind me.

  I jumped and spun around. An older gentleman moved beside me. Nodding to the painting, he raised his eyebrows.

  “What do you think?” he asked.

  “I think it’s incredible,” I said honestly. “Heartbreaking but full of hope, you know? They’re both in so much pain, but they have each other and that … that’s everything.”

  It wasn’t until I stopped talking that I realized I’d been talking about Candice. She and I had both been through so much. The loss of her father. Paisley’s mother bailing on me. Our hearts were in pieces when we met.

  “It’s mine,” the older man said. “These paintings. I sell them when the weather is nice.”

  “This is nice?” I laughed and gestured to the sky.

  “It’s not raining anymore, is it?” he asked with a grin.

  I chuckled. “No,” I said. “I guess it’s not.”

  “Do you want to see more?”

  With a nod, I moved forward and let the man show me his paintings. Every single one was of a different pair of lovers. Some looked so happy to be together that I was jealous. Others were so clearly miserable, I found myself wishing to know their stories.

  “I’ll take the first one,” I said after a few minutes. “The one where the man’s crying.”

  “Are you sure?” The artist frowned. “No one ever shows interest in that one. In fact, a woman was just here earlier, and she couldn’t wait to tell me how much she hated it.”

  “It’s amazing,” I said firmly.

  “I think so too.” He smiled toothily. “There’s something about pain that brings people together. Like hope feeds on misery.”

  He wrapped up the painting for me while I counted out a
few bills. I tucked the painting safely in my bag and thanked the old man before turning toward the Crestmont. I was halfway there when I realized why the painting drew me in.

  It was Candice. Something about it called out to me because it was for her. I didn’t know why or even how I knew, but I was certain that the painting was meant to be hers.

  I stepped into the Crestmont and pulled my bag higher up on my shoulder. Settling onto a chair in the lobby, I waited for Candice to arrive. I didn’t know if she was in her room, but I knew the front desk would never tell me the number, so I kept my eyes busy searching the lobby for a sign of her.

  It wasn’t until night had fallen that I wondered if I’d made a mistake. I’d spent hours walking around the city only to spend even more sitting in the Crestmont lobby, and still, I hadn’t seen Candice.

  My eyes felt heavy as I leaned my head back against the chair. For the first time since I arrived, I closed my eyes and let my exhaustion win. I sat there for a few minutes before I decided it was time to take a break. I would get a room for the night, something cheap, and then spend tomorrow back in the lobby. Candice had to show up eventually.

  Sitting up straighter, I opened my eyes and blinked quickly against the bright lights. I was so tired, I could barely drag myself out of the chair.

  When I did, my eyes fell on something moving across the lobby. A familiar gait claimed my attention as a group of people stepped through the front doors.

  There, in the middle of them all, was Candice.

  Her long dark hair was pulled into a low ponytail that hung smoothly down her back. Her cheeks were flushed, and her brown eyes were heavy with emotion. She didn’t lift her head as she moved quickly toward the elevators.

  She was almost there when I realized I hadn’t moved. Holding tight to my bag, I ran. Darting around everyone in my path, I sprinted to the elevators, desperate to reach her before she stepped inside.

  The doors parted. A couple stepped off. Candice moved aside to let them pass, smiling politely at them as they did. When they were gone, her eyes returned to the floor. She took a step forward. One more step and she’d be inside.

  I sped up and stretched out my hand. My fingers closed around her arm, and I pulled her away from the elevators with a jerk.

  She jumped and wrenched herself free from my grasp. Her eyes flew wide with fear as she prepared herself to fight.

  “It’s me!” I held up my hands quickly. “It’s me.”

  Recognition flashed through Candice’s eyes, followed quickly by anger. As I stared at her, my practiced speech flew from my mind as my tongue glued itself to the roof of my mouth.

  Chapter 66

  Candice

  Rainwater dripped off my jacket, landing with soft plunks against the tiled floor. Ryan stood in front of me, his green eyes wide with emotion and his arms outstretched as if he were fighting the urge to move forward and hold me. Before he could, I stepped back.

  My head shook from side to the side. This wasn’t happening.

  “I came here to get away from you,” I said. “You shouldn’t be here, Ryan. I don’t want to see you.”

  “I know.” He cleared his throat. His arms fell. “But I can’t just leave now without telling you everything.”

  “What’s there to tell?” I demanded. “I saw you with her. I saw the money.”

  “It wasn’t what it looked like.”

  Ryan’s face held a silent plea that I ignored. Turning my back on him, I stepped onto the waiting elevator and pressed the button for my floor. He didn’t make a move to stop me or to follow. He simply stared at me with those green eyes I’d grown to love. And I couldn’t do it.

  Stepping off the elevator, I let the doors slide closed behind me. Shock passed through Ryan’s eyes as he searched my face for an understanding that even I didn’t have.

  “I don’t know why I did that,” I said.

  “Me neither.”

  Silently, we moved away from the elevators so we wouldn’t block the way of the other guests. Ryan dropped his bag to the floor and tucked his hands in his pockets. Rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet, he shifted his eyes from my face to the floor then back again.

  “What do you want?” I finally asked, hating myself for not sounding angrier.

  “To talk to you,” he said quickly. “Maybe over dinner?”

  I scoffed and looked away. This was a cruel joke. I’d flown across the country to escape Ryan’s grasp, and here he was standing two feet away from me, asking me to dinner.

  “That’s not going to happen,” I snapped.

  “You have to eat, right?” He tried out a smile, but it quickly fell into a grimace. “Just one dinner, okay? We don’t even have to leave the hotel. This place has a restaurant, right?”

  I nodded but didn’t speak. My plan had always been to go upstairs, wash up, and then go down to the hotel’s restaurant for dinner. Admitting that to Ryan felt like defeat, so I kept my mouth shut and crossed my arms defiantly over my chest.

  “You can talk now,” I said. “Go ahead.”

  Ryan blinked. He opened his mouth, but the words seemed to get lost on his tongue. Letting his lips fall together, he sighed. His chin hit his chest, and for a split second, I wanted to go to him.

  “Dinner,” I said, holding myself back. I cleared my throat and squared my shoulders. “But that’s it. Just dinner. Then you leave.”

  “Okay.”

  Nodding with enthusiasm, Ryan led the way back through the lobby. We walked slowly, staying a few feet apart so we wouldn’t accidentally brush arms. When we made it to the restaurant, I realized how underdressed we both were.

  My rain jacket was bright green and clashed with the décor. Ryan’s clothes still looked damp from the rain, his dirty blond hair falling messily into his eyes.

  “Just two?” the host asked politely.

  “Yes.” Ryan nodded. “Please.”

  We were led quickly to a table in the back where the host handed over two menus before slipping away. Not two minutes later, our waitress appeared. She offered us something to drink, read through the evening’s specials, and then disappeared. Just like that, we were alone.

  Ryan’s eyes flicked up to my face, but my anger deterred him from speaking. Now that we were sitting down, alone, I couldn’t keep myself in check any longer.

  “You shouldn’t have followed me out here,” I said. “I take it Leslie told you where I was?”

  Ryan nodded. “Don’t be angry with her,” he said. “She was just trying to help.”

  “Help who?” I demanded. “Me? Or you?”

  “Us.”

  I scoffed and leaned back in my chair. “There is no us, Ryan.”

  “But there was.” He moved forward, his hand reaching automatically across the table. “And there could be again. If you just give me a chance to explain—”

  “We tried that, remember?” My eyes narrowed. “After the first time I found out you were working with my mother. You said it was over, that you only wanted me, yet here we are. Having the exact same conversation all over again.”

  “This is different.”

  “How?”

  “Because I didn’t do anything wrong!”

  Ryan’s lips snapped shut. He looked frantically around us, hoping no one had overheard his outburst. Closing his eyes, he clenched his jaw and sucked a sharp breath through his nose. When his eyes met mine again, they held such raw desperation that I had to look away.

  “Your mother misunderstood my motives.” His voice was determinedly calm. “I went to the banquet because I love you and because you asked, not because of Beatrice or the Romeos. My motives were pure. You know that, Candice.”

  “Do I?”

  “You should.” He sighed. “If I only wanted to complete some damn contract, don’t you think I would have pushed harder for an invite?”

  I flashed back to that night on Ryan’s front stoop. He told me that he loved me, and I said I did too. He didn’t push me to take him
to the banquet. I asked because I wanted him there. But was that true? Or had he been manipulating the entire time?

  “How can I know what’s true anymore?” I asked, my voice low.

  “Because you know me.”

  “I thought I did.”

  Before Ryan could speak, the waitress appeared with our drinks. She set them in front of us and pulled out a pen and paper to take our order. I hadn’t so much as glanced at the menu, so I pointed to the first thing I saw without a word. Ryan mumbled his own order before handing over our menus.

  With the waitress gone again, his eyes returned to me.

  I couldn’t look at him. Meeting his eyes, feeling those green irises lock on my face, was too much to bear. Pain worked its way steadily through my chest, leaving me breathless and praying for relief.

  Escaping to Seattle was supposed to solve all my problems. Putting distance between myself and Ryan was all I needed to feel better. Right?

  Being with him again made me question everything. My decision suddenly didn’t seem so sound. Even Seattle felt wrong. I hated that I was doubting myself, but I couldn’t help it. The longer he looked at me, the weaker I felt.

  “You do know me,” he whispered. “Candice, you know me better than anyone ever has. Can’t you trust that?”

  “No.”

  “Please.”

  I shook my head and looked at the table. My hands trembled in my lap. Clenching my fingers together, I regained my control. Feeling weak was no longer an option. After the pain Ryan had put me through, I refused to let him hurt me even more.

  “You’re a liar.” I snapped my eyes up and glared. “You are a fucking liar, and I have never hated anyone more than I hate you.”

  Pain flashed across Ryan’s face. He winced and sat back, letting his back hit the chair with a thud. Words were left unsaid on his lips as he fumbled for something, anything to say. When he finally did, we both knew it wasn’t enough.

  “I did lie to you,” he said weakly. “But that was before I fell in love with you. Candice, I am not lying to you now, okay? I’m not. Your mother pushed that money on me. I didn’t ask for it. I didn’t want it!”