Toronto Collection Volume 3 (Toronto Series #10-13)

by Heather Wardell

  Kegan had stood before us, with his girlfriend at the time who was also his chef, and he'd had the same calm look as he had now. He must have known how much Ian and I hated him, but he'd held his head high and accepted our coldness and been nothing but polite in return.

  I wouldn't have been able to do it, if I were him.

  I didn't want to think anything good about him, though, so I said, "And I'm not calling the police either, and don't you even think about doing it."

  He raised his hands. "Promise. It's completely up to you."

  "Of course it is," I said, and braced myself for him to tell me all the reasons I should do it.

  "Do you need any more water?"

  Startled, I said, "What? No."

  "Okay," he said peacefully. "Just thought I'd check."

  Unfortunately I hadn't checked before answering, and my glass was in fact empty. Of course, once I realized I couldn't have another drink I became desperate for one, and after a few moments of silence I had to say, "Actually, I would like a little more."

  He smiled, with no gloating or mocking in it. "You got it. Are you hungry?"

  This time I took a second to think, then shook my head. I'd thrown up my dinner, but I didn't want anything else in case I got sick again.

  He nodded, took the glass from my hand, and said, "I'll be right back," as he left.

  While he was gone, I realized that my left leg almost to my hip was sticking out through the rip in my skirt, and I stood up to try to adjust myself.

  Naturally, given my luck, that was when he returned.

  I sat down fast, clutching the ripped fabric together, and he handed me the glass then sat back down as if he hadn't noticed. I felt sure he had, though, and I was certain when he said, "So. You can stay here as long as you like but I assume at some point you'll want to go home. I see a few options, given how your clothes are at the moment. May I share them with you?"

  "Not if they involve the cops. I mean it. Don't even think about making me do it, or calling for me."

  He leaned back in his chair. "Larissa, I know we're not exactly the best of friends--" He paused as I gave a snort. "Or any friends at all, but listen. I am not going to try to force you into anything you don't want. You've had enough of that tonight."

  A shudder tore through me, unexpected and shockingly vicious, and water sloshed from my glass onto the sofa beside me. "Don't talk about it. I'm so stupid."

  Kegan gently removed the glass from my hand and set it on the table. "You're not stupid," he said, sounding surprised. "Why would you say that?"

  I laughed, the sound bursting painfully from my throat. "Gee, I don't know."

  "You went on a date with a guy. A guy you knew?"

  I nodded. "Knew Greg years ago. Dated him. Ran into him again this week."

  "So you went out to catch up. Then I guess there was a little more catching up in the alley?"

  I stared at the wet sofa, embarrassed but even through that realizing there was no judgment in his voice over what I'd done with Greg. "Yup."

  "And then he pushed it too far. And you got away. And then I turned up, after you'd already pretty much stopped him yourself. No, you're not stupid. I only see one mistake you made."

  I looked up, surprised to hear something like a shy amusement in his voice on the last sentence, and he gave me a small smile like he wasn't sure he should and said, "You went to some other restaurant instead of coming here."

  My mouth curved into an involuntary smile and my eyes filled with tears at the same time at his sweetness when I so didn't deserve it. "I'd heard the owner here was a jerk."

  His smile grew a little larger. "That used to be true."

  I couldn't make myself answer, but despite myself I was beginning to think it wasn't true any more.

  *****

  Of course, you don't get over years of hatred in an instant, and my natural and well-founded suspicion of Kegan rose again when he began listing his ideas of what I should do.

  "Like I said before, I think you'd attract some unwanted notice on the subway with your skirt like that. I can certainly get a taxi for you, or I'd be happy to drive you if you'd rather not be in a car with some stranger after..." He cleared his throat. "Well, let's just say after."

  I almost said, "You think being in a car with you would be better?" but I cut myself off just in time. While I'd never liked Kegan, I'd also never had any reason to believe that he was the type who'd attack a woman.

  Of course, I hadn't believed that about Greg either, and I had a torn skirt and scraped face to prove myself wrong.

  Instead, I said, "I'm confused."

  "About what?" He leaned forward, his eyes widening. "Geez, I didn't think... did he hit you in the head or something?"

  "What? No." His concern made what I wanted to say harder, but apparently not impossible because I kept going. "I don't remember putting you in charge of how I handle this."

  He settled back into his chair with a slow nod. "You didn't. And I'm not. I'm sorry. I was just trying to help."

  Really? Or was he trying to get me alone so he could finish what Greg had started?

  To my horror and disgust, a flicker of heat ran through me at the idea of having sex with Kegan. Candice wasn't the 'kiss and tell' type, but when they'd been dating I'd all too often seen them after they'd been in bed together and her dreamy satisfaction had been painfully obvious. I'd hated the guy for what he'd done to Candice's self-esteem, but even then I'd wanted to know how his touch felt.

  I shook my head, pushing away the treacherous thoughts and answering him at the same time. "Well, I don't need help. I'm fine, and I can get home on my own. I've got more than enough money to--"

  I froze.

  Kegan muttered a word under his breath. It sounded four-lettered. "You had a purse before, didn't you." It wasn't a question, since my reaction had no doubt told him he was right. I had indeed had a purse, and I hadn't seen it since Greg and I began kissing in the alley. I had a faint recollection of feeling its strap slide off my shoulder and not caring in the slightest, but after that I had no idea what had happened to it.

  "I must have dropped it outside."

  I started to get up but Kegan shook his head. "Let--" He sighed. "Sorry. Damn it, Larissa, I can't do this right. Is it okay with you if I go out and look for it? I'm not trying to take charge, I just want to make this as easy on you as I can."

  His frustrated sincerity touched me though I still didn't trust him even half as far as I could throw that tall sexy body of his. I again forced away my thoughts of his body and said, "Yeah, it's okay," then made myself add, "Thank you."

  He smiled, looking relieved and uncomfortable, and left.

  Could he really have changed? Not only had he apologized to me several times, sounding genuine each time, but everything he'd done since he'd found me outside had indeed been focused on making me feel better. He hadn't tried to force me to call the cops, though I could tell he thought I should, and he'd sent his employee in to help me clean up because he'd recognized that having him do it would have been awkward.

  He'd been nothing but sweet. And I'd been nothing but a bitch.

  A stupid bitch, too. Memories of damn near screwing Greg in the alley flooded me, but they weren't sexy. I'd have done it, if I hadn't found the ring. The guy cheated on me, for God's sake, and the first time I saw him I handed myself right over to him.

  Maybe that was why Kegan was being so nice. He figured he'd take me home and I'd be so grateful I'd sleep with him.

  Though I knew, somewhere inside, that I was wrong, I clung to this idea. I needed it to be true. I'd used Kegan for years as proof for my 'nobody changes' theory, which had made me feel better about all the areas where my life was a complete wreck. But if he really had changed, then my world view was wrong. And that meant all my problems were my own fault and I'd ruined my own life.

  As my mind articulated the idea I knew it was true. I was a mess, and it was all my fault. Everything swelled in me at once, how s
tupid I felt and my frustrations at work and how out of step and lonely and wrong I felt every damned day, and tears stormed my eyes.

  Lately I'd been crying at least a few times a week, and it usually helped for a little while, but this time it felt like my throat was locked shut and the tears were fighting their way through. No comfort, only more pain.

  I heard Kegan turn the doorknob and scrambled to scrub the useless tears away. I didn't think I'd quite managed it, but though his eyes searched my face he didn't comment. Instead, he held up my black purse.

  "Thank God," I mumbled, fighting back another rush of emotion.

  "Well, maybe not." He handed it to me and sat back down in his chair. "It was open. I didn't look through it, didn't think I should, but that doesn't seem like a great sign."

  A quick check confirmed he was right. I'd had about two hundred dollars in my wallet, since I had to buy the supplies for Candice's son's christening, and it was all gone. "Damn it," I muttered.

  Kegan sighed. "I'm sorry. Credit cards too?"

  "I only have one and I don't usually carry it." I'd cut out my tongue before I'd tell the obviously well-off Kegan that I left the card at home to keep me from spending money I didn't have. I pulled out and searched through a stack of cards. "Drivers' license and health card are here, though." The thief probably hadn't been able to find them, since I kept every store loyalty card I'd ever been given and my important cards were buried in the mess.

  He gave me a wry smile. "I guess that's something. Not much, but something."

  Actually, it was. "Replacing those is a pain in the ass, so I'm glad I don't have to." I sighed. "If only I hadn't been so stupid. Should never have left it out there."

  "I blame myself for that one. I wondered briefly, when we were coming in, why you didn't have a purse but then I figured you just didn't. If I'd asked, I could have got it for you right then. I'm sorry."

  His words and their sincerity, so unlike what I knew of him, made me even more convinced he really had changed. I couldn't bear it, though, so I clung to my last hope. "You married, Kegan?"

  He blinked. "Pardon?"

  "Are you married?" If he wasn't, then maybe he was just trying to get me off-guard so he could--

  "No, but soon. I'm engaged. Wedding's March sixteenth."

  Before I could respond, he went on. "Mary's the chef at my other restaurant, Magma. You've met her, actually, at the reopening of Steel after the fire. You might not remember, though."

  I did remember. I remembered how calmly the tall classy-looking brunette had stood beside Kegan and how sincere she'd seemed when she'd complimented him on how good a listener he was. At the time, and ever since, I'd assumed that was garbage, but now...

  I leaned back on the couch, and tears rose again. I shut my eyes to keep them in.

  "Larissa?"

  I shook my head. "Never mind. Congratulations." The word stuck in my throat.

  "Why'd you ask me that?"

  Without opening my eyes, I said, "I've dealt with two guys this week who said they were single and weren't. I guess I figured you'd be the third."

  He didn't speak, and after a moment I opened my eyes and stood up. "Never mind. Look, about going home..."

  He waited.

  My pride wanted me to take a taxi, or even the subway, but my empty wallet said that wouldn't work. Besides, then I'd have to talk to other people and I couldn't bear it. At least Kegan wouldn't ask me questions about my face, since he already knew the answers.

  Before I could bring myself to ask him for a ride, he started in his chair. "I should have thought. If you want to take a taxi, I'd be happy to lend you the money. Or give it to you. Whichever you'd prefer."

  I looked down at him, at his handsome face and the embarrassed sincerity so clear on it, and made myself say it. "I'd actually rather you drove me."

  "I... oh."

  I had to laugh at his surprise. "Wishing you hadn't made the offer?"

  "Not at all. I'll feel better knowing you definitely got home. Just didn't see that coming. Did you want to leave now, or..."

  I did. I'd had more than enough of this day. "Is that okay?"

  He nodded. "Give me two minutes to let the staff know I'll be gone for a bit. Whereabouts do you live?"

  I told him, and he said, "Okay. Half an hour round trip. No problem."

  "Are you sure?" I'd never have thought I'd feel this way about Kegan, but I didn't want to put him out.

  He smiled. "Benefit of being the boss. I can leave whenever I want. I'll be right back."

  He left, and I used his mirror and the makeup in my purse to get myself looking decent again. I couldn't do anything about the scrape on my face, but at least I could clean up the rest of me. I'd worn softer prettier lipstick and eyeshadow colors than I usually did to suit my sweater, but I did my repair job with my ever-present simple neutrals instead of the feminine makeup I'd brought along. Looking girly, once again, had been proven to not be for me. How many more times did I need that proof before I stopped trying to be something I couldn't?

  When Kegan returned, he gave me a small smile, but it faded when his eyes landed on my cheek. "I hate that he did that to you. All of it, of course, but especially that." He took a long black coat from a hook by the door and slipped it on over his suit jacket with his back to me. "Although you're too pretty for even that to ruin your looks."

  He said it matter-of-factly, but it still made me blush. "I... really?"

  He turned, surprised. "Of course." He chuckled. "I may not always have liked you that much, Larissa, but I never found you hard to look at."

  I felt my blush growing but couldn't hold back a smile. "Ditto."

  His cheeks might have reddened too, but I wasn't sure because he turned away again and said, "All right, let's get you home. Is through the dining area okay with you? It's faster, and warmer, than going out around the back."

  I accepted his suggestion, since I wanted speed and also didn't ever want to set foot in that alley again, and he walked me out through the restaurant, standing close at my left side so my torn skirt and ripped-up face weren't visible to his dining room full of patrons, and over to the next-door parking lot. He opened the door of a black Mercedes for me, and once I'd settled onto the cushy seat he said, "I need to give my fiancée a quick call since she's coming here and I might not be back when she arrives. Would you rather I do that out here or in the car?"

  Given how much colder the night had become, I had to say, "In the car is fine." Besides, I was curious to hear how he talked to her.

  He closed my door then took his own seat and started the car. Once he'd connected his phone to a dock on the center console he gave it a few quick taps then pulled out of the parking spot as the phone began to dial.

  As he waited to turn onto the road, the call was picked up and a woman said, "Hey there, sexy."

  He laughed. "Before you go any further I should let you know I'm not alone. Do you remember Larissa? The designer Candice's friend, who was at Steel's reopening?"

  "I do," she said, her cautious tone making me feel sure she knew how much I'd hated Kegan.

  "She had an... accident near Steel and I'm giving her a ride home. I should be back by nine-thirty but I wanted to let you know in case I'm a little late."

  "Okay."

  I thought I heard coolness in her voice. His kindness in not telling my pathetic story might be about to cause him trouble with her and I couldn't take it. "I let myself get nearly raped in the alley," I blurted out, "and I got robbed too so I can't get myself home."

  Kegan turned his head to look at me. "You didn't need to--"

  "You called the police, right?" His fiancée cut him off.

  "No," I said wearily, slumping deeper into my well-padded leather seat.

  "Kegan, why not? You should have--"

  "Mary." The one word stopped her in her tracks, and it choked me up. Somehow it held his love for her and also his belief that I should have called and his understanding why I didn't. He went
on. "It's up to Larissa and she's decided not to. I just wanted to let you know where I'm going."

  "Okay," she said. "Larissa?"

  "Yes?" I managed.

  "I'm sorry."

  My throat locked up even more and I couldn't speak.

  "She knows, Mary. Look, I'll see you later, okay?"

  "Yup."

  She paused, and he said, with a hint of a smile in his voice, "I love you."

  "I love you too," she said, then added, "Take care, Larissa," before ending the call.

  A tear trickled down my cheek, then another. Nobody loved me. I'd thought Greg did but now I didn't know if he ever had. Probably not, if he could...

  I shut my eyes, trying to hold back my emotions, but I burst out with a gasping sob.

  Kegan laid one hand on my shoulder. "You know, when I turn up my stereo, I can't hear anything but Meat Loaf rocking out. I hardly ever get to do that. Would you mind if I cranked it up now?"

  Meat Loaf? Ordinarily I might have mocked his musical taste but I couldn't do more than mutter, "Go ahead," before another sob erupted from me.

  His other hand did something on the steering wheel and the dramatic music filled the car at such a volume I couldn't hear myself cry, so I gave in and let it happen. Kegan didn't let go of my shoulder as he drove, and somehow his presence made me feel able to release some of the ickiness inside me. It hurt coming out, but I felt cleaner.

  When we pulled onto my road, he had to let go of me to handle the turns and I hauled myself back together, swiping at my eyes and taking a few deep breaths to calm myself. He shut off the music and I mumbled, "Thanks."

  "No need to thank me," he said as he pulled into the visitor parking area of my building and turned off the car. "Mary won't let me play it that loud. I should be thanking you."