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

by Heather Wardell

  He nodded, looking relieved, and looked down at Henry. "We will, I hope."

  We smiled at each other and he turned to go, but after only a few steps turned back. "Do you trust Jake?"

  The question surprised me. "Why do you want to know?"

  He grimaced. "He's gone off with my wife. Who he fooled around with when he first met her." His eyes narrowed. "Did you know about that?"

  I was so glad I could nod and not lie. "Jake told me about her amnesia and how he found her and that they were together for a bit until they found you."

  "Yeah. Well, anyhow, that's why I want to know. I trust her, but..."

  When he didn't finish the sentence, I said, "I do trust him." It got easier every time I said it but a tiny part of me still struggled with it. I didn't know why, since I had no evidence of any reason to doubt him and my gut said he was trustworthy. "I do."

  He gave a single nod. "I hope you're right."

  He turned and walked away with Henry, and I settled onto a bench and watched the waves and tried to synchronize my breathing to their rhythm.

  I did trust Jake. He had been honest with me when he hadn't needed to be, he'd been honest when he knew I needed to hear the truth even though it would hurt me, and he'd been honest when doing so hurt him. I didn't believe he'd lie to me.

  But something was stopping me tipping completely over into confidence, and I didn't know what it was.

  I thought for a while, but got nowhere, so I decided it was maybe just a matter of more time. I was saying all the right words to myself, about Jake and my belief in him, and I did mean them, so in time I'd probably feel them too.

  For now, though, what mattered more was being ready to support him when he came back. I wasn't at all sure he was going to get what he needed from talking to Kate, since it was really Jennifer with whom he needed closure. But I hoped he would. He needed it, and I felt like he deserved it.

  I watched the water a little longer then pulled out the book I'd brought with me. Since I read so much crime fiction for work I liked lighter fare for my free time, and I was soon deep into the latest Marian Keyes novel.

  So deep, in fact, that when someone touched my shoulder I gave a shriek and dropped the book.

  "Sorry, Alexa," Jake said, dusting the dirt off it before handing it back to me. "You okay?"

  I pressed my hand to my chest. "I will be, when my heart starts beating again."

  We smiled at each other and I said, "But more importantly, how are you?"

  He sank onto the bench next me, and somehow just from the way he did that I knew the meeting hadn't gone as he'd hoped.

  He stared out at the water and didn't speak, and I said softly, "I'm sorry. I wanted it to work."

  When he didn't speak again I turned to look at him. Even in profile I could see the pain and confusion on his face, and I gave him back the words he'd given me in New York. "I've never wanted to hug someone so much but I don't know if I should."

  The warmth and tenderness in his smile told me he remembered, and he said, "Oh, I think you should. If you're okay with it."

  I slid my arm around his shoulders and he turned toward me so I could get my other arm around him too. He wrapped his arms around me and we held each other in silence.

  Wave after wave flowed onto the shore before he said, "She said she should never have said I was capable of... that. She wanted me to forgive her, if you can believe that. She said she really doesn't think I could have done it."

  On the surface, that was good, but we both knew she wasn't right. Jake didn't remember, and if Jennifer's refusal had been more subtle than trying to fight him off it was possible that Jake could simply have missed it. On several occasions I'd seen him not pick up nuances of other people's words and actions, and drunk and turned on he might have been even more oblivious.

  I didn't want to say that out loud, but eventually he did it for me. "I appreciate what she said but it doesn't fix anything. Because I could have. Not intentionally, but..." He sighed. "So now what?"

  I squeezed him tighter but didn't speak. I had no words to make everything right for him.

  Chapter Forty

  Tuesday morning, after a wonderful breakfast with Jillian and Jeanine and Megan and her quietly hilarious friend Tosca, I arrived at the office half an hour early so I could plow through my email before Mike showed up. To my surprise, though, he was already sitting at my desk in the empty office.

  He fluffed his short hair and gave me a big smile. "I'm Alexa," he said in a squeaky voice. "Can I help you?"

  I laughed. "Wow, Alexa, you've gotten way prettier overnight."

  He fluffed his hair again. "Oh, do you think so? Thank you. You're blind, but thank you."

  He'd always been a joker, but he seemed so much freer now than he had before. Maybe telling me what had happened to him had broken at least some of the chains his dad had put on him.

  Not a surprise. Sharing things with Jake had made me feel better and freer too.

  "So, Alexa," I said, "do you think Mike has his book ready for you?"

  He rolled his eyes theatrically. "Who can say with that guy? But I think so. If not, I'll just deprive him of coffee until he cooperates."

  "Good idea." I reached out and plucked his coffee cup from my desk.

  "It's ready," he said in his own voice. "I promise. Return the caffeine. I need it to function."

  I did, smiling, and he said, "Thanks. Oh, and I'm sorry I'm so early." He glanced at Rhonda's door and murmured, "She let me in, by the way," before continuing at his normal volume. "After our talk last week, I really felt like I knew where the book needed to go, so I couldn't wait to show you the changes I've made."

  "I'm so glad," I said, nodding and giving his shoulder a squeeze too so he knew how much I meant it. "Shall we go look?"

  He started to nod, then said, "But you're here early. Did you have plans to do something?"

  I shrugged. "Just my email. No big deal. I can do it later." Remembering for the first time that today was my brother's birthday, I added, "Can I just send a quick one first?"

  He pushed back my chair. "You got it. I'll go get the book ready to show you."

  He bustled off to the conference room and I logged into my work email for a quick check then into my personal one. Before I could write to Ricky, I saw an unwanted name in my mailbox, and I couldn't stop myself looking at the message.

  Dear Alexa,

  I did get your email last week, but I truly think you'll change your mind so I felt like I should write to you again anyhow. Christophe may well write his own story one day, and wouldn't you rather have the world know the truth from you?

  To make sure the book catches people's attention, we will unfortunately need to include some of the more graphic details. I'll get those from the transcripts of the trial, though, so you won't need to do more than read them over and add a personal detail here and there that didn't get into the transcript. Then we can tell about how you got into such a terrible relationship and what you'd do differently now that you know better. I'm sure you want to help other women avoid making the same mistakes you did, don't you?

  I know you do, Alexa. I do honestly think that sooner is better, though, before people lose interest in your experiences. Please, do the right thing. Work with me.

  Lance

  I leaned back in my chair and stared at this, fury rising in me. Then I started to type.

  Lance, no. No to you, no to publishing the graphic details, and especially no to your guilt trip about helping other women not make the same mistakes I did.

  I fell in love and I trusted a man who turned out to be bad. That's all I did. The only MISTAKES here are his, not mine, if you can even call a planned assault a mistake.

  I will not relive the details of what he did to me so people can read them and get all titillated. That won't make any difference to me and it won't help anyone else either. Except maybe you, in getting your career going again. But that's nowhere near enough motivation for me.


  So the answer, today and forever, is no. I will not discuss this further and I won't be answering any more of your emails. Forget it.

  Alexa

  I started to hit send then wondered if I'd been too harsh. A reread of his message, though, made me not so much hit send as mash it hard. If anything, I'd been too nice. I had told him no, over and over, and he wouldn't listen. That certainly didn't make me want to work with him.

  I quickly sent a happy birthday wish to my brother, and on a whim invited him to come visit me in Toronto if he wanted to. He'd never been to the city, and I thought I'd enjoy showing him my Toronto like I'd enjoyed showing Jake my New York.

  Not that it would be exactly the same, of course.

  Thinking of Jake and how he'd cared for me in New York calmed me after the Lance email, and I went to see Mike with a smile on my face.

  He was right that he'd made huge strides in his book. Now that I knew its backstory, though, I saw even more areas where Mike had let his characters hide emotions that he couldn't admit to himself.

  When we'd gone through the major changes he'd made, he asked, "Is it better?"

  I could hear how nervous he was, so I was especially careful to be gentle. "It is. I still see places where you could open up more, but I'm not sure you want to. You don't need to, I don't think. Not for the book's sake."

  He grimaced. "I cried through pretty much the entire time I spent making these changes. I'm not sure I want to go further either."

  I gave his shoulder a squeeze. "I can imagine."

  His smile was wry. "I don't doubt that you can. You know, I felt comfortable with you right away, even when I knew you were anything but comfortable with my book. I guess now I know why."

  I nodded. "We're both victims."

  He gave a small laugh. "I'm still a victim, but I'm working on it. You? I see a survivor, not a victim."

  I took a breath to protest, then sat staring at him. Was he right? I'd felt like a victim for the whole two years before the trial. I'd stayed home whenever I could, and in the same tiny world when I couldn't. Now, I'd moved to Toronto and had opened up my life in ways I could never have handled back then.

  I wasn't back to normal. But maybe... could I maybe be fine the way I was now?

  He chuckled. "Shocked you, eh? I just tells it like I sees it."

  I gave a dramatic mock shudder. "Nice grammar. Thanks for not putting that in the book."

  We laughed, then he held out his arms to me. As we hugged he murmured, "Can we be friends when my book is done?"

  "Only if you promise to keep drinking coffee with me," I said, squeezing him tight.

  He laughed and let me go. "Deal. Want one now?"

  I did, so we left the conference room and headed out to the cappuccino place, collecting Jake and Rosanna along the way. Howard looked up hopefully but I didn't invite him. I couldn't trust him not to say something mean to Mike, or indeed to Jake about his continued lack of progress in his sculpture like he'd done the day before.

  I'd called him on that while Jake was in the bathroom, saying that I couldn't imagine being criticized made Jake wildly creative, and Howard had protested that he was just showing an interest. He seemed sincere, but then he always did. I still didn't trust him, and it felt good to know that I could simply choose not to engage with him.

  After the delicious coffee, Mike headed home and the rest of us returned to the office. Once there, I steeled myself and logged into my personal email.

  Alexa, your loss. I'll just do it without you. It'll be nearly as good, and far easier.

  Lance

  My hands flew over the keyboard.

  Lance, I remember back when you first started trying to get me to do this, you know. Back when you told me that you could absolutely not do it without me because it would be nothing but the same stuff people already knew. You were right about that, so I know you can't and won't do it alone. You don't have the material, and we both know you don't have the reputation, to make it work without me.

  But thanks for trying to threaten me with that. It makes it even more clear to me that I can't trust you, and so I won't even consider working with you. Ever.

  Alexa

  I hit send with the same anger-fueled speed with which I'd typed, then remembered that I had told him I wouldn't respond to any more of his messages. I wouldn't make that mistake again. I didn't want this dialogue with him to go on any longer.

  That made me think of David, whose letter I hadn't answered. There'd been no arrogance in him, no suggestion that I should fix my mistakes or indeed that I'd made any at all.

  Should I be writing back to him?

  In the moments I spent considering it, Lance replied again. My finger hovered over the delete button, but I found myself wanting to know what he'd said so I went ahead and checked.

  I bet Christophe will want to talk. I'll get in touch with him. You'll regret your stupid decision when his book is out there and everyone can still read all the details you're embarrassed about.

  For an instant I felt sure he was right, but then I surprised myself by knowing he was wrong. No, I didn't particularly want the details of what Christophe had done to my body broadcast to the world, but the idea didn't horrify me like it had before. I'd told several people myself since coming to Toronto, after all. Not at the level of gory specificity Christophe and Lance might reach, but I had told. And somewhere along the line I'd stopped feeling humiliated by it.

  What Christophe did reflected badly on him, not on me. And if he decided to share those details with the world, it still didn't matter to me.

  He'd be sharing his story, not mine, because what he'd done to me wasn't my story. Not any more.

  Chapter Forty-One

  Jake shook his head after I'd told him about Lance's emails. "That guy. Hardly Lancelot, is he?"

  "Lance-not," I said, and we grinned at each other.

  "You won't be answering any more of his messages, I assume?"

  "Shouldn't be receiving any more either, since I blocked him after the whole thing yesterday. But no, if one gets through it's going straight to the trash bin."

  "Excellent."

  We finished our after-dinner coffee then he paid for our meal. I tried to chip in, but he said, "Hey, you saved me from going to karaoke without you last night, so I owe you."

  I laughed. "That makes no sense. I should be paying for you since I had so much fun."

  "Yeah, well, so did I," he said, then we sat in silence and I relived the sweet memory of our karaoke outing.

  Hannah had contacted Jake mid-afternoon on Tuesday, desperate to shake off a frustrating day at work with a little karaoke that night. He'd agreed to go and had invited me to join him, and we'd had dinner with Hannah and her Oliver and several other people and then had gone off to sing.

  Jake had started us off with a Bruce Springsteen song, which he did surprisingly well, and then Hannah and Oliver took the stage followed by various combinations of the others.

  I enjoyed listening to everyone else, but when Oliver said he was ready to go up again I knew I wanted to have my turn. "I'll go after you, okay?" I said, not wanting to rip the microphone from his hand but also wanting to stake my claim.

  He blinked. "Sorry, I didn't realize you hadn't gone." He held out the microphone. "Go first. I didn't mean to be a hog."

  I smiled. "You weren't, but thanks."

  I went up on stage and began scrolling through the available songs. I was leaning toward Misty Will's "Out Loud" again, since I'd enjoyed it so much last time, but then I saw her duet with Evan Mansfield. I could have asked Oliver to join me, or one of the other guys, but I didn't so much as consider that. I looked out at Jake and said, "I can't do my song without you."

  Hannah and the other women said, "Aww," in unison, and Jake got to his feet and said, "Then here I am."

  Up on stage with me, he glanced over the lyrics of the song. "I don't really know it. But I'll figure it out as we go along."

  I smiled. "Sounds lik
e a plan."

  The music started, and I was soon singing my parts and smiling at Jake as he did his. The song was about two people starting a relationship and becoming better people as a result, each lifted up by the other, and singing it with Jake, with whom I was doing exactly that even if only as friends, was amazing.

  I got choked up a little on my line of "I'm keeping my head and my heart but I'll share them both with you" because I so wanted to do that on a deeper level and couldn't quite get there, and Jake took my hand and gave me the sweetest smile I'd ever seen.

  I pulled myself together with his help and we carried the song through to its triumphant conclusion, then everyone began clapping and Jake hugged me so hard I couldn't breathe and I hugged him back just as hard.

  "Thank you," I said into his chest over the noise of the others. I wasn't sure he could hear me but he squeezed me even tighter.

  The rest of the night had been fun too, with a whole-group rendition of a New Kids on the Block song that had left us all crying with laughter, but nothing had equaled singing that song together.

  Jake cleared his throat. "So, I have a request."

  "You want me to sing some Lady Gaga with you?"

  He laughed. "Nobody wins if I do that. No, not about karaoke." He sobered. "About Jennifer."

  "Sorry. Okay. What about her?"

  "I'd hoped seeing Kate would help, but it didn't and now I don't know what to do. I wish I could somehow get myself straightened out, but I can't see how to make it happen." He shook his head. "I keep thinking I need to talk to Jennifer about it but of course I can't do that."

  No, he couldn't. He had no way to find her, and even if he did she probably wouldn't want to deal with him. She believed he'd assaulted her, and as someone who'd been assaulted I knew how awful she must feel. I did feel for Jake, but I felt for her too.