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

by Heather Wardell

  She cut herself off and again lowered her eyes. When I couldn't figure out how she'd intended to end that sentence, I said, "Come on, Claudia. Wouldn't what?"

  "Wouldn't ask you for money," she said, her voice soft but intense. "I told Terrence that as soon as I heard you'd won. Said I wouldn't take advantage of our friendship like that."

  Wondering whether Terrence had agreed with this stand, I said, "But you didn't ask. I offered. Doesn't that make it different?"

  She didn't move for a long moment, and I thought maybe it did. But when she raised her head her jaw was set and I wasn't surprised when she said, "It doesn't. Not enough."

  *****

  I dropped the subject, knowing she wanted to take the money and also didn't and not wanting to upset her further, and after a few minutes she relaxed and we had our usual enjoyable time together.

  Eventually she drained the last bit of her after-lunch hazelnut latte and said, "I love these things." With a glance at her watch, she added, "So now what? Terrence has some guys over to watch a fight he taped last night, so I'd rather not go home for another hour or so. Got any more time for me or should I just hit the mall?"

  "I'd hit it with you, if you want." I stuck out my foot to show her my scruffy shoe. "I need to replace these."

  She studied my shoe then admitted, "Yeah, you do. Is that colored toe cap actually falling off?"

  "It was, but I glued it on." I studied it too. "Poorly, apparently."

  She smiled, and we said together, "Did you see Lydia's--" then burst out laughing.

  "I guess you did," she said. "Those shoes were gorgeous, eh?"

  I nodded. Right after we'd met Claudia had introduced me to Lydia Grange's blog posts and we'd both been reading her ever since, first on a Toronto newspaper site and for the last six months or so on her own personal web site. Though neither of us had met the woman, I felt sure we'd be good friends if we did meet. Lydia had always been fun to read but since she'd gone out on her own there'd been a depth and passion to her work that I admired and enjoyed. "Such a neat shade of teal, weren't they?"

  "Yup. Should we go to the mall and see if you can find the same pair?"

  "Unlikely, since they were from a thrift shop, but yes, let's go."

  We did, and in short order I stood in an Eaton Centre shoe store with a black suede flat in one hand and a leopard-print one in the other. "I like them both," I said, "but I don't know. The black's a lot more practical. What do you think?"

  "Get them both?"

  Instinctively I gave her the usual 'as if' grimace, but it froze halfway. "I could. Right?" I checked the prices again. A hundred bucks for the black and ninety-five for the leopard. "I totally could."

  She leaned closer. "If they were a grand each you totally could. Hell, you felt like tipping Gerald a grand would be being cheap. You could buy all the shoes in this place and not even notice the cost." She drew back and sighed. "I'm having trouble getting my head around all this."

  I shook my head. "You think I'm not?"

  We stood in an awkward silence for a moment as the crowd of Saturday shoppers swirled around us, then I said, "Okay. I'm getting them." I took a breath to add, "Can I get anything for you?" but cut myself off, and the smile she gave me told me she knew and she appreciated it.

  Outside the store, I shifted my two shoe bags to one hand and pulled her out of the stream of traffic. I had to try to convince her to let me help her and Terrence make their dreams come true. "Claudia, listen."

  She squeezed her eyes shut. "No. No no nonono."

  "It wouldn't change anything between us, and I'd be so happy to do it for you."

  Her whole face made a fist. "I can't. I do appreciate it, but..." She took a deep breath then put her shoulders back and opened her eyes, her face relaxing. "No. I'm grateful, so much, but no. Please don't ask me again."

  I almost did ask again despite her request because I could see in her eyes how badly she wanted to take the money, but I couldn't go so completely against her wishes. "Okay. I won't."

  She reached out and hugged me. "Thank you," she said, her voice choked. "For offering, and for not offering again."

  I squeezed her. "You're welcome. Both parts."

  She stepped back and swiped beneath her eyes, making my heart hurt for her. "Okay. Anyhow. Now what?"

  "Excuse me, but..."

  We turned together to face the newcomer. The older woman blushed but said to me, "Are you the one who won all that money? Because my grandson's friend's cousin's dog needs surgery and--"

  "She's not," Claudia said firmly.

  The woman turned to her. "No? She looks like her."

  Claudia laughed and elbowed me. "Another one for the count." To the woman she said, "Twenty-three people have thought Lydia here was that one. But come on." She tugged at the sleeve of my age-worn leather coat. "If she'd won that kind of money, would she still be wearing this jacket?"

  "I suppose not." The woman walked away, pouting, and somehow Claudia and I held it together until she was out of earshot before bursting into giggles.

  "You're so bad," I managed after a few moments. "And why Lydia?"

  "Couldn't think of another name off the top of my head." She swiped new tears from beneath her eyes, but these ones didn't upset me.

  "Well, good job. And I guess I do need to change my looks. You think extensions?"

  She nodded. "If you go shorter people will figure it's probably still you, but longer will confuse them. Red, I'd say. Want to go find a place?"

  "Now?"

  "Feel like being accosted a little more instead?"

  I gave a mock shudder. "Good point."

  We found a salon which could deal with me in about half an hour, so we made an appointment for "Lydia" to reduce the chance I'd be recognized and went off for a quick coffee. When Claudia returned me to the salon, she said, "Terrence'll be done with his fight so I can go home. Unless you want me to sit and watch you?"

  "Can't imagine it'd be much fun for you. I'll show you the finished product soon. Deal?"

  She grinned. "Deal."

  She walked away, but when she'd gone a few steps I saw her shoulders slump and I again wished she'd accepted my offer.

  "Ready, Lydia?"

  "Yes," I said, then quickly added, "Actually, can I make a quick phone call first?"

  "How about we decide what color and length you want first," the stylist countered, "and then I can get ready while you're on the phone?"

  "Good plan."

  With her expert guidance I picked out a rich red tone that would reach halfway down my back, then I scooted out of the salon and called Terrence.

  "Something wrong? Is Claudia okay?"

  The worry in his voice touched me. Nobody worried that much about me. "She's fine. Sorry to scare you. I just needed to talk to you alone for a second."

  "Isn't she with you?"

  "She left me at the Eaton Centre about five minutes ago." Knowing she'd be home in a few minutes at the most, I jumped right into it. "Look, I wanted to give her money for IVF and she wouldn't take it. What are your thoughts about that?"

  He sighed. "Honestly?"

  "Of course."

  "I told her you'd probably offer and I told her I thought she should accept if you did. She's-- we're not getting any younger, and saving that kind of cash is going to take forever."

  Liking how he'd put them both into the aging category though it was really only Claudia's age that meant they needed to rush, I said, "I know. I really do want to do it. Can you tell her that, maybe?"

  "I did, actually. I said that if you offered it'd be because you meant it. She does want a baby so much. But she's terrified it'll seem like she's using you."

  "I don't feel used at all. You could name the baby after me if that helped."

  He laughed. "May I present my son Angela?"

  I laughed too. "Obviously not if it's a boy. Anyhow. What now?"

  He went silent for a moment, and I looked back at the salon to see the stylist
waving at me. I nodded and held up one finger. "Terrence, I have to go in a second. Do you have any ideas, or should we talk later?"

  "I have one," he said slowly. "Not sure I like it."

  "Okay..."

  "Kerr has been talking about giving me a bonus for that big article on French wines I did a few months back. What if we pretended I got the money that way?"

  Kerr had given huge bonuses on occasion, so it wasn't impossible. "I like it. But are you okay... I mean, we'll basically be lying to Claudia."

  He sighed. "I know. But I also know she really does want to take the money. If she asks me flat-out I'll tell her, but I don't think she will. She'll just be happy to have it."

  "Okay, we'll do it. I'll transfer it into your account. Is that okay?"

  "It's great," he said, then hissed, "She's walking up the sidewalk. Better go. I'll email you the account info later. Thank you so much. You're awesome."

  He hung up before I could reply, and I shut off my phone and headed back to the salon feeling happier than I had since I'd won the money because I could use it to give my friends a chance at the lives they craved. We craved.

  Chapter Thirteen

  On Monday morning, I was sitting in my banker's office finishing up the transfer of fifteen thousand dollars to Terrence's bank account, which he'd assured me Claudia wouldn't see came from me since he took care of all their banking, when my phone rang.

  "Hi, Tiff. What's up?"

  "Nothing good. Can you come to Tyler's office?"

  I blinked at the suppressed fury in her voice. "Sure. When? Today?"

  "Now, if possible."

  We agreed I'd be there in half an hour, and as I put away my phone Ted said, "Everything all right?"

  "Not sure. But I'll know soon."

  He gave me his cool professional smile. "Is there anything else I can help you with today?"

  I had wanted to talk about setting up education funds for Zack and Linlee and Claudia's potential baby, but I said, "No, that's all," because I was anxious to get going. Tiff didn't give me the impression of being the kind of person who got angry easily, and she was clearly seething.

  When I walked into Tyler's waiting room twenty minutes later, Tiff looked up then did a double-take. "I almost didn't recognize you under there. It is you, right?"

  I laughed. I'd been shocking myself every time I saw myself in the mirror too, but I did love both the red color and the way the long smooth strands swirled around my shoulders when I moved. I'd been a bit creeped out at first that the extensions were made of actual human hair, but that had passed when I'd seen my finished reflection. "Yup, it's me. People were recognizing me from the media coverage so I figured I'd change my look."

  She shook her head, and managed a stiff smile. I had brought two hundred dollars in cash for her, since we had bet an hour's fee on whether Blake would ask me for money and she'd won, but I couldn't bring myself to joke around and give it to her when she seemed so uncomfortable. "Well, you certainly did that. And that coat's new too, right? And those boots?"

  I had to nod. Once the extensions were in I'd gone on a shopping spree unlike any I'd done before, picking up two coats, three pairs of boots, another pair of shoes on top of the two I'd bought with Claudia, several pairs of jeans and some skirts and a few sweaters and tops, plus a variety of headbands and other accessories for my new hair. I'd also done something I'd wanted to do all my life: I'd bought all new socks and bras and underwear. Throwing out the old stuff at home had felt deliciously decadent. But maybe she didn't approve. She certainly didn't look happy. "It's okay, right? I didn't go over three grand. Well, not much over."

  This drew the first real amusement from her. "Um, yeah. It's fine. Three grand is nothing." She sobered quickly. "But we do need to talk." She turned to Tyler's receptionist. "We're going in now, okay?"

  It wasn't really a question, and the receptionist picked up on that. "Of course. I'll hold his calls as you requested."

  "Good."

  I followed Tiff into Tyler's office, feeling nervous. My stress didn't exactly go down when I saw Tyler's cold angry expression.

  "You're here," he said to me, almost but not quite accusingly. "Good. Have a seat."

  I did, and Tiff did too, and he gave a sigh. To Tiff, he said, "Did you tell her?"

  She gave her head a sharp shake.

  "Look, somebody better tell me," I said. "I'm getting freaked out."

  "The news won't help with that," Tyler said. "Do you know a Shane Thomson?"

  I started, not having expected to hear that name from him. "I do. Well, I did."

  "Tell me how and when," he said, leaning forward and pulling his laptop toward him. "Every detail, please."

  I licked my lips. "He was my boyfriend for three years. We broke up nine years ago, so we started dating about twelve years ago in total."

  Typing, he said, "What did you do together?"

  Confused, I said, "Usual relationship stuff, I guess. Went out for dinner, saw movies, went to casinos, went on vacations..."

  Tyler's hands froze on the keyboard. "Casinos?"

  "Yeah," I said, and Tiff sighed. I glanced at her but before I could speak she said, "What did you do there? Tell us everything."

  "He liked roulette the best but I preferred the slot machines," I said slowly, still not sure what they wanted from me. "We did play poker together a few times but--"

  "Any big wins?"

  I shrugged. "A grand once, a couple hundred a few other times."

  Tyler leaned even further forward in his chair, and Tiff did too as she said, "And who kept those winnings?"

  "We split them. We had a deal that we'd always split anything we won." I smiled, remembering the time I'd won $5.50 and Shane had insisted we split it.

  Tiff groaned, and Tyler rubbed his forehead.

  "What?" I looked back and forth between them, then a horrible thought hit me. "He's not... but that was years ago!"

  "It was, but you've just told us you had a verbal contract to split winnings." Tyler sounded heavy and tired. "And Shane's lawyer has informed us he expects you to live up to it. He expects you to hand over twenty-five million dollars."

  Chapter Fourteen

  Tyler asked me a ton of additional questions about my relationship with Shane, from how it had ended to exactly what words I'd used to agree to giving him half of anything I won, and at the end he said, "Well, if you guys were still together I'd say this might be a problem. But you aren't, and haven't been for years. I think we'll be able to fight this."

  Tiff nodded, and I did too though I felt strangely torn. I had promised to share with Shane, after all. Did that promise really end with our relationship? But of course I didn't want to give a guy who was now essentially a stranger half of my money.

  Tyler gave me a small smile. "Sorry about this. I knew people would be coming out of the woodwork but I didn't expect you'd have to deal with someone from so long ago coming back."

  Did Tyler have any idea of how much he stung me with every reference to how incredibly long it had been since I'd been with Shane? I doubted it. I made myself smile back though it hurt.

  "Tyler, can we borrow your conference room for a minute?"

  I didn't know whether he'd noticed the strange tone in Tiff's voice, but I had and it worried me.

  "Sure," he said easily. "Knock yourselves out. I'll start working on our defence."

  He pulled over his computer, and Tiff and I left.

  Once we were seated in the opulent conference room, I took a breath to ask her what was going on but she spoke first. "This is awkward, but I have to say it."

  "Okay," I said slowly, wondering if she somehow knew Shane or something.

  "I've been thinking about it since the day we met but... well, I've decided it's something you need to know."

  Not about Shane, then, since I hadn't mentioned him to her. "Okay," I said again, since I couldn't think of anything else.

  She rubbed her temples, then dropped her hands to the tab
le and said, "Have you given any money to John?"

  I blinked. "No. Why?"

  Ignoring my question, she said, "Do you plan to?"

  I raised my chin. "As you advised, I'm still working on my plans," I said, knowing my tone was telling her I didn't see how this was any of her business and not minding that in the slightest.

  She nodded. "What you do with your interest is up to you, of course. I just..." She rubbed her temples again. "I don't know. Maybe I shouldn't be doing this."

  Before I could say that if she was this doubtful she probably shouldn't do it, she said, "Do you know why John and I split up?"

  "I don't. Never asked and he never said."

  "No," she said softly. "He wouldn't."

  I sat silent, trying to figure out where to go from this cryptic comment, and she raised her head. "I'd appreciate your keeping this between us, okay?"

  I nodded before I realized what I was doing, then said, "Wait. Why?"

  "Because I think he would rather you didn't know but I think that's not fair. Given your... situation."

  If John didn't want me to know, I probably shouldn't know, but I'd been wondering about why they split so I couldn't resist saying, "Okay. I won't tell him I know."

  "Good." She sighed. "Angela, John has a gambling problem."

  I blinked, attempting to reconcile this with the disapproving comments he'd made about my lottery playing over the time we'd known each other, and as I realized that someone who couldn't control his gambling might disapprove of my weekly ticket purchase she said, "He lost fifty grand, most of it in one night. Roulette."

  "That's... significant," I said before remembering that I could pay it off with less than two weeks' interest on my winnings.

  She laughed, with no humor. "That's for damn sure. He hid his problem from me, for years, when it was only a minor thing. But that one night he got in way over his head and couldn't get out again."

  And she dumped him for it? It sounded like it, but I couldn't quite bring myself to ask. Instead, I said, "Then what happened?"

  "I left him," she said, as if no other course of action had been possible, "and he's still working at paying it back."