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

by Heather Wardell

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  I went to the office Monday morning feeling relaxed and happy. The rest of the karaoke had been wonderful. After a few more people had taken their turns with the microphone I'd sung the same Misty Will song I'd given such a tentative performance of in my shower in New York, to rave reviews from Hannah and the others and such sweet pride and happiness from Jake that I'd hardly been able to look at him. He was the only one who knew how much being able to sing meant to me, and I loved that he cared so much.

  I was beginning to care about him too, differently than before. We went out for lunch on Sunday and he told me how desperately he wished he could do something to get closure for himself and for Jennifer, the woman who'd accused him. When we'd first met and he'd told me how he felt bad for her I'd been outraged at his presumption, but now I hurt with him and wished there was something I could do to help.

  We had spent the afternoon together too, at my place watching a movie, and when he left I'd had to fight the urge to ask him to stay longer. There wasn't anything about him I didn't like, except that one tiny sliver of doubt he provoked in me.

  Could I really trust him? I couldn't believe he could have assaulted Jennifer, but I couldn't quite convince myself to trust him fully. I thought I'd love having him as a boyfriend, if I could be completely sure of his honesty. I wanted to, and at times I almost could, but I couldn't release the last of my doubts and fears.

  Still, we had a great time together, laughing at the movie and at how Stella played first nervously then with great vigor with the toy he'd brought for her, and looking forward to seeing him made me walk faster into the office.

  He was there, and he gave me a warm smile. I returned it, then turned to smile at Rhonda, but her tense expression made me stop. Before I could ask her what was up, she said, "Can I talk to you a second, Alexa?"

  "Of course."

  She turned, without a word to Jake, and headed off toward her office. I exchanged a confused look with Jake then followed her. I'd barely had time to take a seat across from her when she sighed and said, "I thought you trusted me."

  I blinked. "I do." What had made her think otherwise?

  "Didn't we agree that if you couldn't handle Mike's book you would let me know?"

  I nodded, but before I could speak she said, "Then why didn't you? Why did I have to hear it from Howard?"

  "Howard?" I shook my head. "I don't understand. I'm fine with the book."

  She raised her eyebrows. "Really?"

  "I admit it's a little painful at times, but I'm more than keeping it together." Her words fully registered with me. "Wait, Howard told you I didn't want the book any more?"

  "He called last night and said you'd made it clear to him that you were having too much trouble with it but he thought you wanted to be tough so you wouldn't admit it." She narrowed her eyes. "You really didn't tell him that?"

  I shook my head hard, anger rising in me. "Not at all. I told him what I told you: it's not the easiest book ever but I am okay with it. So what, may I ask, did he think you should do with it instead?"

  I saw the answer I'd expected on her face and I sighed. "Of course. Please don't take it away and give it to him. I do not want that. I actually think it might have been good for me, fighting my way through it, but either way I especially don't want to lose it now that the hardest parts are done."

  She nodded once. "Don't worry, I won't." She sighed. "It's too bad he misunderstood what you meant, but I guess there's no harm done."

  I stared at her. How unreasonably trusting could one person be? "I don't think he misunderstood. I think he wanted the book for himself and took advantage of my issues with the subject matter."

  "I can't believe he'd be like that," she said.

  I didn't bother to answer. I knew full well he could be. He had been, when he'd booked a hotel room for us because he felt sure he knew better than I did when I'd be ready. He figured he had the right to decide what I could and couldn't do. Just like Christophe had.

  I heard Howard in the main office, telling Jake how he'd been to the art gallery with his visiting aunt on Saturday and how Jake should probably go there to "find some inspiration for that sculpture you can't do", and I said to Rhonda, "I'm going to talk to him, okay?"

  "Don't be too angry," Rhonda said, getting to her feet. "I still think he meant well."

  That made one of us. Rhonda was simply far too trusting. I didn't want to go around distrusting people like I did now, but I didn't want to be a gullible fool like her either. There had to be some middle ground, and I would find it someday. In my own time. Not when someone like Howard told me I would.

  I walked out of the office with Rhonda right behind me. Howard looked up, and the sudden shiftiness in his expression told me everything I needed to know.

  Our office had only recently stopped being a battleground, though, and I didn't want to stir everything up again, so I kept my voice calm. "Howard, Rhonda tells me you thought I wanted Mike's book off my hands."

  "Shouldn't we do this in private?"

  I smiled at him as best I could. "No, I think this is better. No chance for a misunderstanding. I'd rather have everyone hear me say that I am perfectly fine with the book and that in the future if you think I'm having trouble I'd prefer you speak to me and not go straight to Rhonda with what is actually my business."

  Howard blinked. "I was just trying to help."

  "Were you?" We locked eyes, and the sincerity in his momentarily weakened me. I'd been sure I was right about him but now he looked like the poster boy for innocence.

  He nodded fast. "I really thought it'd make things easier on you if I stepped in. I did. I'm sorry if I caused trouble instead."

  I half-believed him, though I didn't want to. But that didn't change the facts of what he'd done. "Look, please don't step in, okay? It's up to me to decide whether I'm ready and able to do something, not up to you, and I would really appreciate it if you didn't do anything like that again."

  He still looked sincere, and regretful, but then he looked away and nodded.

  "Thank you."

  I glanced at Rhonda and she gave me a nod. "Okay. Good. If everyone's fine with what they've got, I'll get back to work."

  She left, and when her office door closed behind her I heard Howard mutter, "God, there's no way to win."

  I looked at him, startled, and his neck turned red but he didn't look away. His eyes weren't shifty now, but they were certainly angry. "I really was trying to help. I guess I thought you'd be grateful. But it's true what they say: nice guys finish last. You can't win with women."

  Carly mumbled something that sounded like, "So true," but I ignored her. I also ignored Rosanna's surprised sharp intake of breath and didn't look at Jake though I could feel his eyes on me. "Howard, I didn't realize it was a competition."

  He glared at me a moment then gave a grunt and walked out of the office, with Carly scurrying along behind him. Rosanna and Jake and I exchanged 'what just happened?' glances then shook our heads and returned our attention to our computers.

  The others might have actually been working, but I wasn't. I was trying to figure out whether I had misjudged Howard. Sometimes he seemed like the most devious of game-players, and in the next second I felt sure he was nothing but honest. I couldn't keep one opinion of him for very long.

  Which, I decided, was the definition of not being able to trust him.

  *****

  When I came back from lunch, there was a letter lying on my desk. I hadn't received any mail in the office, and nothing but bills and an occasional note from my parents, trying to convince me to come visit them, at home, so I picked it up with interest.

  Seeing David's name and address in the top corner made me drop it again as if it had caught fire.

  What could Christophe's best friend want with me?

  Maybe this letter was another attempt to tell me he was sorry he'd told Christophe we had been talking and that we had hugged. I hadn't let him say those wo
rds at the trial so perhaps he'd decided to write them instead.

  But what if he hadn't? What if he did blame me for what had happened and had decided it was time he told me?

  Did I want to read it? Did I want to know what he wanted?

  I sat staring at the letter for a long moment, unable to make a decision, then took it to Jake's desk.

  He looked up at my arrival, and I laid the envelope in front of him. Tapping the return address, I said, softly so the others wouldn't hear, "Forwarded from the New York office. My ex's best friend. What do I do?"

  Jake's eyes widened. "Want to go get coffee and discuss it?"

  "We just came back from lunch."

  "But we were only gone half an hour and we didn't have coffee. If you want to go I'm fine with that."

  I studied the letter again. I felt like I should be able to decide on my own, but I couldn't. "Yes, please."

  Without another word he pushed back his chair, and we were soon sitting with cappuccinos in front of us and the letter between us like a moldy cookie neither of us wanted to touch.

  "Options," he said. "You could read it."

  I nodded. "I could throw it away without opening it."

  "For sure. I could read it first, if you wanted, to make sure it's nothing horrible."

  I smiled. "That's sweet."

  He shrugged. "If it's from your ex, it might be good to know beforehand."

  I blinked. "I didn't even think of that." I rubbed my forehead. "I'm an idiot. Of course it could be. He could have sent it to David and then had David send it on to me."

  "You're not an idiot. But it could be, and I figure it'd be better to know before you start reading."

  Yes, it would be. I did still wonder how Christophe would explain his actions but I wouldn't want to launch into that unaware.

  I stared at the envelope a little longer. I truly didn't think David would send me something from Christophe. He'd never seemed that cruel.

  A little voice inside said, "Neither did Christophe," but I knew it was wrong. Christophe had been controlling and demanding, in little and big ways, from the day we met. I hadn't expected what he'd done, of course, but I had known he wasn't always a good-hearted guy.

  David, though. I did believe he'd genuinely been trying to help me and Christophe with our relationship. He'd done exactly the opposite, but I did think his intentions had been good.

  I did trust him.

  I took a deep breath, then picked up the letter.

  I could feel Jake's eyes on me as I ripped open the envelope and began to read, and it helped to know he was there.

  Dear Alexa,

  I hope you'll read this. I understand if you won't, but I had to write it.

  I am so horribly sorry for what happened. I truly never thought he'd do something like that, and I tried to use that to make myself feel better for telling him about how you and I had talked and about that one damned hug, but I should never have said a word. You trusted me, and I betrayed you. I ruined your life, and I'm more sorry than you could ever know.

  Maybe it'll help to know that I ruined mine too. I started drinking heavily while you were in the hospital, trying to forget, and learning even more at the trial about what he did just made that worse.

  I'm in rehab now, trying to get myself back together, and one of the steps in my treatment is to make amends. I don't have a clue how to make amends to you for ruining your life but I hope that somehow you are able to move on. I won't ask you to forgive me, because that's not fair to you, but I will say that I hope you can for your sake. I'll never forgive him, or forgive myself for trusting him, and I wouldn't wish those sorts of feelings on you.

  If you want to write to me, you are of course welcome to do that. I don't expect it, though, and I won't write to you again unless you ask me to. I hope getting this letter doesn't make things worse for you, and if it does I am truly sorry.

  Please, take care of yourself. You deserve it.

  David

  I read the letter twice then folded it and tucked it away into my pocket. I didn't want Jake to read it. David's pain was so obvious that I didn't feel right about sharing it.

  "Are you okay?" Jake said softly, his voice rough.

  I looked up, realizing how hard it had been for him to sit and watch me read, then reached out and laid my hand over his on the table.

  As he turned over his hand and interlocked his fingers with mine, I said, "I am. It is from David, the best friend. Well, former. He..." I sighed. "You know, David's a victim too. I never thought of it that way, but he is."

  Jake nodded slowly. "So what did he want?"

  I picked up my cappuccino with my free hand and sipped it before answering to give myself a moment. The rawness of David's plea hurt to remember. When the cup was again on the table, I said, "He wanted to say he was sorry for what he did to me, and he hopes I'll be able to move on." I shook my head. "I don't think he will, though. Not any time soon. He's so miserable and so angry at himself... he might be worse off than I am."

  "Makes sense."

  I blinked. "It does?"

  He nodded. "Don't get me wrong. You suffered more than he did, no question. But you were completely blameless in what happened. David isn't, quite. It's not his fault but he's not blameless. I'm sure he hates that."

  "Yeah."

  We sat silently holding hands for a bit, then he said, "Are you going to answer him?"

  I shrugged. "He said he wouldn't write to me again unless I asked him to, which I appreciate. I'm sure he'd like an answer, but I guess I'm not sure I want to open up a dialogue."

  "I can see that. If you need help deciding, I'm happy to talk."

  I smiled at him. "Thank you. For right now, I just need to think."

  "You got it. Whatever you need from me, you've got it."

  I smiled at him, knowing he meant it. "Same to you," I said, and I'd never meant anything more.

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Jillian dropped by that night to invite me out the next morning for an early breakfast with her and her sister and her sister's friend, and I jumped at the chance to build on our friendship and to meet new people.

  The sister, Jeanine, was as honest and forthright as Jillian but didn't have Jillian's still-nervous expression at being out in public. Her friend Megan was a sweetheart, friendly and funny, who calmly and politely but with firmness dealt with a man who was trying to cut in front of us in the line at the busy little breakfast restaurant.

  "Nice job," I said once we were seated, "keeping that guy from stomping on us."

  She smiled. "No need for us to be doormats."

  Jillian and I nodded and Jeanine said, "No need indeed. Some men really do seem to believe the world revolves around them, don't they?"

  We all agreed, and Jillian and Jeanine began speaking at once.

  "Go ahead," Jeanine said, smiling, and Jillian said, "Oh, you know what I was going to say. What Mom always said when we were growing up."

  Jeanine chuckled and they said together, "Boys like that aren't worth your time and they don't deserve your company."

  Megan and I grinned and Jeanine said, "So true. But I was actually going to say that at least we know one who's not like that."

  Jake appeared in my mind at once, but so did confusion because none of the others knew him so she couldn't be talking about him.

  "Our running coach, you mean?" Megan said innocently.

  Jeanine laughed. "Don't be so formal. He's still my coach, but..." She took hold of Megan's left wrist and drew her arm forward to show off the beautiful diamond solitaire ring I'd already noticed on her hand. "I think your relationship's a little beyond coaching at this point."

  Megan smiled. "Yeah, I guess so." She gazed at her ring, her smile growing even wider.

  Jeanine rolled her eyes. "Why'd I bring that up? One reference to Andrew and she'll be a mushball for the rest of breakfast." Ignoring Megan's laughing protest, she said, "What about you, Alexa? Got a good man?"

  Jill
ian stiffened in her chair. "Shush," she muttered.

  Jeanine looked back and forth between us. "Oops. Sorry."

  "It's okay," I said, then to my surprise found myself wanting to tell them more. "My last relationship... went criminal, let's say. I thought he was a good one but now I see all the ways he wasn't. It's been a few years but I'm not quite sure I'm over it and ready to trust someone else."

  "Not a surprise," Jillian said. "I wouldn't be sure either. At all."

  Jeanine glanced at her. "You know the details?"

  She nodded. "Alexa's right, 'criminal' is the word. I can think of other words but that one works. It'd be a lot to get over."

  Megan shook her head. "I'm so sorry. Is there anything we can do to help?"

  I felt sure she meant it, and it touched me. Then I realized that maybe they could help. "How would you guys get over being badly hurt and start trusting someone again? I want to, but it's so hard."

  Silence fell, but it wasn't awkward. I knew they were trying to find an answer for me. Eventually, Megan said, "I think part of it is knowing that the new person isn't the old one. I mean, I've had boyfriends cheat on me but I'm not afraid Andrew will. Because I know he's not those guys and it's not fair to judge him because of what they did."

  I nodded slowly, knowing she was right and also knowing I'd been doing that very thing to Jake by being suspicious of him after Christophe and Howard, and Megan said quickly, "I don't mean to blame you, though. It's totally natural, I think. Just..."

  I smiled. "Not fair. It's okay, I agree with you. I was just thinking that I am doing that."

  "There's a new guy?"

  I looked at Jeanine, then the others, and as an image of Jake rose in my head I smiled and nodded.

  They all smiled back and Megan said, "That's terrific. Are you guys dating?"

  "No." I grimaced. "I'm starting to think I want to, but..." I shrugged. "I can't."

  "Don't let him rush you," Jeanine said. "So many guys do that and it's not fair."

  "I've had one of those too," I admitted. "This one wouldn't, though. He's a good guy." Remembering the Jennifer story, I had to add, "I think so, anyhow. He's not perfect, but I do think he's good."