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

by Heather Wardell

  I did my best to assure them I was fine, but I hated lying to them. I wasn't fine. I felt like an idiot for trusting Howard, even though both of them told me without prompting that they would never have thought he'd do something like that, and embarrassed that Carly had let everyone know I hadn't had sex since the assault. They hadn't seemed surprised, and no doubt they weren't, but it was still more personal than I'd wanted to get with them.

  Plus, there was Jake. He invited me out for dinner, and though I felt like saying yes was leading him on I couldn't bring myself to say no. I liked being with him too much. We had a great time, and I hugged him hard when he escorted me to the subway station afterwards. He hugged me back and didn't do anything else or say anything but, "See you tomorrow. Give Stella a pat for me," but on the subway ride home I couldn't help worrying that I wasn't being fair to him.

  Knowing how he felt made me feel different. Not when we were together: then I still felt happy and safe and just plain good. But I imagined him disappointed and hurt because I'd rejected him and it made me feel awful.

  But he'd said we could be friends, and we'd certainly managed it during dinner, so I tried to leave all of that aside at least for the evening. I would go home and snuggle with Stella and not think of anything but how cute she was and how kind Jake was.

  When I walked into the apartment building lobby, I blinked in surprise.

  Jillian stood there.

  Talking to her double.

  The other woman had longer hair, was a little thinner, and looked more relaxed, but other than that they were identical.

  Jillian looked at me, startled, then looked away.

  I'd been about to say hello, maybe ask Jillian to introduce me to the woman who was obviously her sister, but her clear discomfort with my presence prevented me. I checked my mailbox, found nothing but a credit card bill, and went up to my apartment without a word.

  About fifteen minutes later, a knock at the door startled Stella off my lap and back under the couch. She was so much better with me now, although still not willing to sleep where I could see her, but she was still awfully jumpy. Maybe she always would be, I thought as I went to the door. Maybe this was her normal now, just like maybe my messed-up state was mine.

  I sighed and checked the peephole then opened the door. "Hey, Jillian."

  She bustled in, though I hadn't actually invited her to enter, and said, "I really need your help. I've been agonizing over some cases and I can't choose."

  Before I could tell her I really wasn't in the mood, she began making her way toward my couch as she said, "One is a kidnapping case that ended with the woman's body dumped nude in a neighbor's swimming pool, and the other is a confinement thing where the woman eventually starved to death. Now, I think the pool thing has more interest but there's so much horror around the--"

  "Jillian!"

  She literally jumped back from the couch she'd just reached and turned around. "What?"

  "I can't do this. I..." I sighed. "Look, I'm a victim, okay? A few years ago I was kidnapped by my then-boyfriend and confined and assaulted and--"

  The confusion in her expression, with no surprise or shock or sympathy mixed in, made me stop and say, "What?"

  "I know all that."

  "You do?"

  "Of course. I looked you up once you moved in. I always do. Have to know who the neighbors are. So yeah, I know. That's why I'm asking you, because I figure you've got experience with this stuff. Both in the book world and for real."

  Not in a million years would I have thought she actually knew, and it made everything a billion times worse. "Jillian, I didn't even know you had a sister, and you know such intimate things about me. And not only do you not care about them, you're using them to further your career. You don't trust me to know your sister but you expect me to use the worst experience of my life to help you. I don't think so."

  She blinked at me. "But..."

  I shook my head. "You need to go. Now."

  Still looking confused, she did.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  I didn't sleep well, too busy thrashing through everything that was happening, and woke up well before my alarm. I couldn't get back to sleep, and lying in bed feeling frustrated wasn't exactly pleasant, so I showered and dressed and left the apartment far earlier than usual. Instead of going to the office, though, I went to the coffee shop I'd found with Jake and settled in with a cappuccino to take care of my personal emails.

  Mom had written, asking how I was doing and again reminding me I could come home whenever I wanted, and I wrote back to say that I was far too busy at work at the moment but that perhaps I'd be able to later on. I couldn't go back now, all broken and confused. She'd see that and use it to try to convince me to stay with them, and I didn't want that.

  I expected to have a message from Jillian but there was nothing. Lance, though, had contacted me again; though I'd ignored most of his previous emails, he kept sending his regular requests.

  Something about that thought caught my attention. Before I read his email, I went back and checked my mail archive, and sure enough they were regular requests. He was emailing me every Tuesday at seven in the morning.

  Something about that infuriated me. I'd told him no ages ago, and I'd told him that if I were ever ready I'd let him know, and yet he was still asking me. He'd probably put a reminder in his phone so he wouldn't miss a weekly "harass Alexa" session.

  He was just like Jillian, trying to use me to get his career going.

  I didn't want him to do that any more.

  I skimmed his email, which was the usual 'you deserve to have your story told by me' crap, then wrote back.

  Lance, I have told you that if I decide I'm interested I will let you know. You keep emailing me, though, and I don't like it. Do not email me again. If I ever feel like I want to tell my story I will make it happen, and until and unless I get there I don't want or need to hear from you.

  Alexa

  I read it through twice, looking for any loopholes I might have accidentally given him, then hit send. As the phone made its whooshing sound to signal the email was on its way, I realized I'd made that decision all by myself. I hadn't asked anyone's opinion, not even Jake's. I had known I didn't want to talk to Lance from the start, and I'd finally made a stand. I'd trusted myself to know I was doing the right thing.

  It felt good.

  Feeling proud of myself, I sent Jake a text message to let him know what I'd done. We'd spoken about Lance before and Jake had pointed out that someone who wouldn't listen to me when I said I didn't want to talk could probably not be trusted to do a good job with my story. That made sense to me, and I knew he'd be happy that I'd told Lance to leave me alone. He wrote back quickly, proving me right.

  Nice job! Can I buy you a cappuccino to celebrate, Miss Persian Carpet?

  Smiling, I wrote back to explain that I had one already but would bring him one if he liked.

  I'd appreciate that, my lady of the floor coverings. See you soon.

  Reading his words warmed me as much as my drink had. He was so sweet and funny. And cute too.

  A dark cloud rolled over my happiness. If only...

  I drank the last of my cappuccino and pushed that aside. I wasn't ready and that was all there was to it. Jake's comforting yesterday had made me feel better, and I did like that he liked me in that way, but whenever I thought of having a relationship with him my mind immediately jumped to how I'd trusted Howard and how wrong I'd been. Jake wasn't Howard, and I knew it wasn't fair to judge him by what Howard had done, but I couldn't help it.

  I'd trusted inappropriately and I didn't want to make the same mistake again.

  As I approached our building, carrying Jake's cappuccino and a coffee for Mike who was coming to see me, I saw Howard and Carly standing out front. He looked awkward, but she was giggling and grinning at him, and as I watched she pulled him close and kissed him. His one arm did go around her but he didn't hold her tight as he'd held me, and I caught m
yself wondering whether he actually wanted to be with me instead.

  I took a deep breath and pushed the question aside. I didn't want to be with him, not any more, and that was all that mattered.

  Holding my head so high I could barely see the sidewalk, I walked steadily up to the building. They broke apart when I was only a few feet away, but though my stomach churned I kept walking and went past them without a word.

  They entered the office only a moment after me, and it might have been awkward had Mike not stood up from my desk and said, "There she is, my favorite editor on the planet. Is one of those drinks for me or should I run out for a coffee?"

  I held out a cup to him. "I've got you covered."

  He took it and grinned. "You're now my favorite editor in the galaxy."

  "If you'd brought him a cookie you might have made Miss Universe," Jake said, smiling at me, as I handed over his drink too. "Thanks, by the way."

  I smiled back. "You're welcome."

  Carly said something about craving a cappuccino, but she was ignored. Jake and Rosanna not wanting to talk to her didn't surprise me, but Mike had always seemed to like her so I was confused by his lack of response until we'd closeted ourselves in the little conference room and he said, "So, I see Howard has decided to downgrade his girlfriend."

  I burst out laughing then made myself calm down. Hardly professional. "How do you know about any of that?"

  "Saw you guys once leaving work and you looked like you were together." He grimaced. "Then I saw them this morning sucking face on the front steps."

  A giggle escaped me at his description and his contorted expression. "Yeah, me too."

  He shook his head. "They're not exactly hiding it. It's like they're flaunting it, actually."

  I nodded, my amusement draining away. Yes, they were. Intentionally, to make me feel bad? Or just because they were so obsessed with each other that nobody else mattered? I wasn't sure which would be worse.

  He sighed. "Sorry. Anyhow, thanks for the coffee. It's better than usual."

  I told him about the other coffee shop, and he vowed to go there from now on, and then we set to work on his book.

  The first hour or so was great, productive while still being fun, but then I said, "About this character Max."

  Mike stiffened up and seemed to withdraw into himself even before he said, "What about him?" in an unusually defensive tone.

  Surprised by his reaction, I said, "He doesn't ring true to me. He's got nearly all gay friends and he doesn't show any interest in women, but you say he's straight. Isn't it more likely he's gay, or at least bi?"

  He was shaking his head before I finished. "No. He's straight. No question. He has to be."

  I didn't usually fight authors too hard when they were stuck on a particular thing, for the same reason I didn't usually sit around banging my head against a brick wall, but his last sentence made me want to keep going. "Why does he have to be? What purpose does it serve in the book?"

  "What purpose-- of course he's straight." He pushed his chair back and got up. "If you can't see that, we shouldn't be working together."

  He slammed his way out of the room, while I sat too shocked even to call him back. I'd never have expected him to react that way. Tell me he wouldn't change the character, sure. But refuse to work with me over it?

  Not wanting to lose him, I scrambled to my feet and went after him, only to find him standing frozen at the end of the hallway just out of sight of the main office.

  "Mike?" I said softly, not wanting him to run away.

  He turned to face me, his eyes showing no trace of his earlier passion. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have walked out like that. I just feel very strongly about this issue."

  I nodded. "I see that." I gave him a tentative smile, then felt my shoulders relax when he returned it. "Can we go back to work?"

  "Not to talk about that," he said. "I won't make that change."

  I did still want it, but I knew I wouldn't get anywhere with him now. "Okay. But I have to warn you, I may want to come back to it later once we've gone through the whole book."

  "I have to warn you," he said, "that I'm not going to budge on this one. But we can discuss it again."

  Like we'd discussed it this time? "Okay. Thank you."

  His smile was bigger this time, and we went back to the conference room and carried on without mentioning Max's sexuality, but I couldn't stop wondering why Mike had been so infuriated by my simple question.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  After work I thought maybe Jake and I would go for dinner again, but as we were packing up he mentioned he was going out for karaoke with some of his friends. From the slight nervousness in his voice I thought he might be considering inviting me, but he didn't and I didn't ask if I could go along.

  But I wished I had when I got home and Jillian appeared in the hallway before I even had time to unlock my front door.

  "Alexa, can we talk for a minute?"

  I shook my head, still fumbling with the key. "Nothing to say." I finally got the door open and started inside but she said, "Please. I'm sorry. Could you give me a second to apologize?"

  Stella peeked her head around the door and I gently nudged her back with my foot, not wanting her to get the idea she could roam the halls. I didn't want to listen to Jillian explain why she hadn't been wrong, but she was my neighbor and we'd been becoming friends so I felt like I should at least give her a chance. "Okay. But I need to feed Stella first."

  Jillian waited with unusual patience while I took care of my cat. When I finished and made myself turn to her, she said, "Have you had dinner?"

  I shook my head.

  "Me either. Could I order us something?"

  I sat on the opposite end of the couch from her. "Didn't you have something to say to me?" I wasn't sure I wanted to hang out with her.

  She sighed. "Yeah. But it'll take a while. I'm not good at telling the story. But the short version is that I lost a colleague to a disgruntled criminal and I am desperate to get this book out there to honor him."

  I considered this for a moment. "I don't understand."

  She gave a sad laugh. "Of course not. I'm still hiding the real story. It's just so hard to say it. We weren't just colleagues. We were in love. Not engaged or anything yet but we were going to be. And then he was killed, and..." She shook her head. "I've put up such thick walls to protect myself in the last three years that the possibility that I was hurting you didn't even register with me. I've forgotten how to be human, I guess. But I remembered after you kicked me out, and I've felt terrible ever since."

  We sat in silence, while I imagined how I'd have felt if Christophe were murdered at the height of our relationship, then I said, "So, what are you ordering us for dinner?"

  She managed a smile. "Thank you. Pizza?"

  "Sounds good."

  She placed the order with her cell phone then said, "Okay, so. I'm going to keep talking because if I stop I might not start again. His name was Shawn, and he was one of the best lawyers I've ever met. Defense attorneys know they have to watch their backs, and he did, but he was also so open and friendly. I was too. Then."

  Stella, finished eating, strolled over and hopped up onto the arm of the couch beside me. I began patting her and Jillian said, "She's really relaxed, hasn't she?"

  I nodded. "Still skitters away sometimes but she's better."

  "Good." She sighed. "Wish I was."

  "So what happened to Shawn?"

  She stared down at the hardwood floor. "We were attracted to each other right away, from his first day in the office, but we held out because we were colleagues and it didn't seem like a good idea." Another sigh. "We wasted so much time! But we didn't know how little we had. Eventually, though, I watched him doing a deposition and he was so smart and so passionate and I just knew I had to have him. I took him out for dinner that night to celebrate, and we were still together when the sun came up." She gave me a wry smile. "Naked and together."

  I smile
d back. "Sounds like a good date."

  "It was. They all were. We were together for over a year and I've never been so happy. We knew not to be too obvious in public, in case someone was watching and decided to get revenge, but we must have slipped up."

  She brought her knees up to her chest, the skirt of her elegant navy business suit tightening across her thighs, and squeezed them with both arms. "Shawn dropped me off one night after dinner and headed for home, but didn't make it. Drive-by shooting."

  I bit my lip. "I'm so sorry."

  "Yeah." She squeezed her knees even harder. "They tossed an envelope into the car after they shot him. Nothing in it but a picture of me. That's how we knew it was one of my cases that got him killed, not one of his."

  She sniffled, and I slipped off the couch and went to my bedroom, returning with the big white teddy bear Jake had given me. "This guy is good for cuddling."

  Her eyes were wet but she managed to smile. "I bet. Sure you don't mind sharing him?"

  In answer, I held the toy out to her. She took it and squeezed it tight, and tears began to fall onto the bear's soft fur. "I knew Shawn would want me to keep working," she said, her voice choked, "so I did. But everything else changed. He wouldn't have wanted that but I couldn't help it. I moved out of the apartment we'd been in and came here, I cut my hair so I wouldn't be as recognizable, I stopped going to the gym we'd used and set myself up one at home so I wouldn't have to be out. I even tried to get Jeanine to move away so she wouldn't be at risk, but she refused."

  I didn't want to interrupt, but she must have realized what I was wondering about. "Jeanine's my twin sister. The one you saw in the lobby." She managed a nearly convincing laugh. "She's a stubborn beast, that one."

  I smiled. "Nothing like you, then?"