He caught my hand, his eyes wide. "I don't. I never have." His grip tightened and he moved closer, the shock in his eyes changing to something that sent shivers down my spine. "Trust me. I do not hate you."
"Good," I breathed, wondering if he was going to kiss me and stunned by how much I wanted him to.
His eyes said he was considering it, but then he pulled back and got up to go stand by the window. Staring out at the lights of Lisbon spread far before us, he said, "I can't."
His words didn't fit the conversation, and knowing that he meant them as an answer to what had nearly happened between us made my heart race. "Why not?" I whispered.
He turned to face me. "Because it does change everything. I hate it, but it does. You are insanely wealthy and you always will be, and I wouldn't be able to afford a can of peanuts in this hotel on my own. I just can't see how we can get around that."
I took a deep breath, trying to calm my frantic heart and find the right words. "I'm still me."
His eyes softened, but he shook his head. "You aren't. Not completely." He crossed back to me and smoothed his hand over my hair, which I'd had redone blonde for the trip as a change from the red. "The money makes parts of you different."
I stared up at him. "You won't... because of my hair?"
He pulled his hand away. "It's not the hair. I just wanted to-- no, it's not that. I've seen how you are about the money. It's hard for you to spend it, hard to let it go."
"But I am letting it go. I bought our building, for crying out loud."
He reached out to stroke my hair again, then instead gently touched my cheek. "It hurt you, though. Right?"
I couldn't lie to him, so I just nodded.
"I know," he murmured. "The longer you have the money, the more it becomes a part of you that you can't let go. And..." He swallowed hard. "Someday you'll look at me and know I don't match the lifestyle you could have, and I can't bear the idea of that happening."
As I struggled to find an answer to this, he added softly, "Again."
I got to my feet so I could look into his eyes. "Tiff?"
He nodded. "A stupid gambler, and a lousy one at that," he said, his tone somehow awfully like I could imagine Tiff's having been, "could never live up to what you have, to who you are."
"But you already do," I said, desperately trying to get through to him. "And you aren't those things anyhow. You're amazing and funny and kind and smart and great with Zack and..."
I wanted to add that he was adorable and I longed to know how he kissed, but the desolate finality in his eyes shut me down even before he said, "Angela, it won't work. You wouldn't respect me."
I tried to protest but he talked over me. "Tiff stopped respecting me and that was the end of my marriage. I don't blame her, I don't respect me either, but... I need you to. At least a little bit. And if I give in and let you... let you keep me," he said, his horror at the idea turning the word ugly, "then you won't. And I can't let that happen."
I had no idea what to say. I didn't believe sharing my money with him would change anything, but how could I convince him?
He reached out and brushed his fingers over my cheek. "You were always miles out of my league, but now it's just impossible." He pulled me close and pressed his lips to my forehead. "Thank you," he said against my skin, "for making my Portugal dreams come true. I wish..."
But I never heard what he wished, because he released me and left my suite without looking back.
Chapter Forty-One
"Has she responded yet?"
I laughed. "How would I know? I've been walking around with you all morning."
"Well, check." Claudia dropped into our booth at the Setherwood Cafe. "I'm dying to know. I definitely wouldn't want to go to Kuwait but it's cool that she'll get to."
Our favorite blogger Lydia Grange had mentioned earlier in the week that her good friend Larissa had been in Kuwait teaching for over a year and had just signed on for another three years, adding that she and her fiance Percy had started diverting a little of the money they were saving for the wedding to a travel fund and she hoped they'd be able to afford to go before Larissa's tenure there ended.
Well, they would now, thanks to an anonymous donation of five thousand dollars in thanks for Lydia's great and insightful blog posts.
Claudia had Lydia's blog up on her phone before I did, and she said, "Ooh, she has responded. Listen." She cleared her throat and began reading.
"You guys! I have no idea which one of you did this, but I am beyond thrilled. Some kind anonymous soul has given me... are you ready for this... five thousand dollars! Percy and I will go visit Larissa as soon as we can get tickets, and whatever money is left over will help out with the wedding as my benefactor suggested."
Claudia looked at me. "Did you suggest that?"
I nodded. "When someone gave her a hundred bucks a few months back she used it to buy prizes for a blog contest and I wanted her to keep all of this for herself."
"You rock." Claudia smiled at me.
"I guess I'm not too bad," I admitted.
She laughed. "Definitely not." She returned to the blog post. "I try to be completely honest with you lovelies, and I have to say that I can hardly see my keyboard because I'm crying so hard. I am so grateful. And it's even better, if that's possible, because the person said that my blog posts make her (or him? I don't know, of course) feel better able to handle life. Which is really why I'm here, so that just gets me. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have three tasks: 1) call Percy, 2) stop crying, 3) book our trip!! Thank you again, anonymous wonderful person!"
Claudia looked up at me, her eyes suspiciously shiny. "That must feel awesome. I feel awesome and it's nothing to do with me."
"Of course it is. Who introduced me to the blog in the first place?"
She laughed. "Well, okay. Then I guess I get to feel awesome too. Thanks for letting me be there when you made the donation. And this morning when you bought coffee for the people behind us in the drive-through line. I am vicariously generous."
I giggled. "Works for me." So did how wonderful it had felt to spend ten dollars to take care of the people behind us in that line. Anonymous and amazing. Exactly as I wanted it to be.
Our server arrived to take our orders. "Should we wait for the rest of your party?"
I shook my head, and Claudia said, "We came here first so we could hang out with our lattes before the boys showed up."
"Then I'll gladly get them ready for you."
When she left with our order of a cinnamon non-fat latte for me and Claudia's all-time favorite hazelnut whole-milk latte, I said, "Why don't you ever try anything else?"
Claudia grinned. "Because I love that one. So why switch it up?"
"Why indeed?"
Rolling her eyes, she said, "Sure, blondie. You switched it up."
I shook my head to make my hair swirl. "Do you like it? I kind of do but I'm thinking the red might be more me."
She tipped her head from side to side. "I do like it but the red really popped."
We carried on discussing possible hair colors until our drinks arrived. Claudia caught hers up right away, smiling with anticipation, then took a sip and grimaced. "Excuse me?" The server turned back, and Claudia said, "I think the milk's off. It tastes awful."
"I'm so sorry." She turned to me. "How's yours?"
I tasted it, then nodded as I swallowed. "Mine's fine."
"Good. I'll have this remade immediately."
She returned quickly with a replacement and set it before Claudia, saying, "We opened a new bag of milk so I'm sure this one is fine."
Claudia, though, again looked revolted after a tentative sip. "Nope."
"Let me try it," I said, surprised since we'd never had trouble with our lattes before.
She passed it over, and I tasted nothing but coffee and perfect sweet creamy hazelnut. "It's not off at all."
She frowned. "But it's gross." To the server, she said, "Sorry about the fuss."
As
the server assured her it was all right, a wonderful possibility occurred to me. "Try mine, Claudia."
She did, and the same disgusted expression crossed her face. "Yours is off too."
"No," I said, grinning so wide it hurt and blinking back tears. "I think you are off. Food aversion, Claudia!"
She stared, then her eyes filled too. "You mean..."
I nodded, blinking hard. "I think so. I hope so."
The server said, "Ooh, are you pregnant?"
Claudia couldn't do anything but grin as the tears rolled down her cheeks, so I said, "Let's just say the lattes are probably fine."
The server said, "Congratulations," and Claudia pulled herself together enough to say, "I'm sorry I made you remake the drink."
We all laughed and the server said, "Trust me, we don't mind it for such a good cause."
She left smiling, and Claudia turned her delighted tear-stained face on me. "Do you really think... I feel fine other than that."
"Other than the latte you've had at least once a week for years suddenly tasting gross? Yeah, I do really think."
She covered her face with her hands. "Oh. Oh, goodness."
Claudia had never been a potty mouth but I'd also never heard her say 'goodness' before like that. "Yes, my maiden aunt?"
She dropped her hands and laughed. "I've been working on my language so the baby wouldn't--" Her eyes widened. "The baby. I'm going to... it worked and... oh. Oh, goodness."
I laughed. "Yup, that about sums it up."
She said, "I'm shocked about this, but I have mixed feelings."
My heart skipped a beat. "You do?"
She grinned at me again. "Nine months without my latte?"
I burst out laughing. "It'll be a little less. More like eight and change. And it's for a good cause."
"It certainly is." She sobered and leaned forward. "Angela, look. I have to thank you. So much."
I shook my head. "You don't. You did, before, and more than enough. I'm just so glad it worked."
She ignored this and leaned even closer to me. "You helped me twice with this."
Twice? Uh-oh. "I... um..."
She laughed, the pure delight in it touching my heart. "You're an awful liar."
"I know, that's why I'm trying not to have to do it."
We both laughed.
"Terrence's grandmother was an only child. I knew that back when he said her sister passed away and gave us the money for the first IVF, because his grandfather had ten siblings and it was a family joke that an only child married into that bunch." She shook her head, smiling. "I can't believe he forgot I would know he was full of it. I haven't told him I know because it was cute that he tried, but honestly."
"We were going to say Kerr gave him the money," I admitted.
"I'd have bought that story."
"I'll remember that for the next time we try to lie to you."
She laughed. "Don't ever try it again. But I am, as Lydia would say, beyond touched that you would do it this time. You know I appreciated your offer, right? I just felt weird about taking your money. I didn't want to be one of those people who--"
"You could never be those people," I said firmly. "Not ever. Because you didn't just command me to cough it up."
Her eyes widened. "Did anyone actually do that? Anyone you know, I mean? I saw those strangers, but I assumed your friends and stuff wouldn't do that."
"You'd think, wouldn't you?" I launched into the story of Jackie and her demand for money for her unplanned business idea.
When I finished, Claudia said, "And what's happening with you guys now?"
I shook my head. "She's not talking to me. She sent me one email after I refused her, right before I went to Portugal, telling me she's horrified I would put money above our friendship."
Claudia's mouth fell open. "She's the one doing that."
"That's what John said too." I smiled at the memory of his and Zack's outrage on my behalf, then remembered the new awkwardness between us and sighed.
Claudia's eyes narrowed. "What's up?"
"Nothing."
"Did I not just tell you you're a lousy liar? Spill."
"I don't want to wreck your mood."
"You could tell me I'll never be able to drink a latte again and you wouldn't wreck my mood at this point. Come on."
So I told her how connected John and I had become in Portugal, and how the money now stood between us as surely as if I'd built a wall with stacks of bills. "He can't get past it," I finished, "and I can't make him see I'm still me."
Claudia didn't speak, but her uncomfortable expression said volumes.
"What? You think I've changed too?"
She sighed. "Of course you have. How could you not? You can donate five grand to Lydia, basically a stranger, and hardly even notice. You bought a Lexus on a whim. You bought an apartment building. And he can barely afford the rent to live in one of those apartments. I do think he's being unreasonable but you have to see that things are different now."
I turned the gorgeous platinum filigree ring I'd bought in Portugal around on my finger. It had cost fifteen hundred Canadian dollars and I hadn't considered the purchase for more than a second. All the jewelry I'd bought at the spa sat essentially unworn in my jewelry box and that didn't bother me because I knew I could afford it. "I know." I sighed. "So what do I do?"
"You want him, don't you."
No question in her voice. She knew me too well for that to be necessary. I nodded. "I've always liked him, as a friend, but it's changed into something more than that. And the more he refuses the money, the more I admire him. Although I have wanted to slug him. More than once."
She laughed. "Then you're exactly how I am with Terrence. Which is cool." She blinked, startled. "God, I forgot about Shane, though."
"Watch your mouth."
She grinned and patted her flat stomach. "Sorry. I'll behave. But I did forget him. What about him?"
I took a breath to answer, and she said, "Oops, hold that thought. Speaking of Terrence..."
"Only nice things, I hope," her husband said, settling onto the booth seat beside her.
She laughed. "Hardly."
He said, "Well, why not?" then frowned and pointed first at my near-empty drink then Claudia's full one. "I have never seen you not finish a latte before Angela." He turned to her. "You okay?"
She grinned at him. "I am just fine, thank you. I don't like the taste of it."
His frown deepened. "Get them to remake it then."
Her grin widened. "I did. And I still hated it. And I hate Angela's too."
Confusion and worry flickered across his face, and she put him out of his misery with, "It's like something inside me doesn't like it."
His face went slack, then such an expression of joy flooded it that I had to look away, feeling like I was intruding. I didn't watch, but I did hear him say "Really? You think you're..." in a voice choked with delight, and I heard her teary response too.
Their pleasure, and the bond between them that was now even stronger, made my heart hurt, but somehow it was a good pain. I couldn't have been happier for them, of course, but I'd have expected to be devastated since I would never share a 'we're going to be parents' moment with anyone. I wasn't, though. I was thrilled for them but I didn't want it for myself. Not any more. When had that stopped? I didn't know, but I realized for the first time that the loss of my fertility didn't hurt me any longer. That wasn't the path I wanted any more.
"You can look now," Claudia said, giggling, after a few moments. "Sorry."
"Don't be." I looked back. "Congratulations, daddy."
Terrence murmured, "That sounds amazing. Thank you."
"For everything," Claudia chimed in. "You're the best."
"Quit thanking me or I'll take it back."
She laughed. "Can't. It's settled in now. Settled in and denying me lattes. Ooh, tell Terrence what you did for Lydia."
"Who's Lydia?"
We explained that, talking over each othe
r in our excitement, and then began to tell him how I'd sponsored her Kuwait trip. Midway through, Shane arrived and we had to start again. When we finished, Shane spoke over Terrence's comment of "Cool". "I don't get it. It is cool, I guess," he said, nodding toward Terrence. "But why would you give that kind of money to someone you don't even know?"
"I do kind of know her, through her blog."
He brushed that off. "She can be anyone she wants, online. You don't really think she's showing you her true self, do you?"
"She is," Claudia and I said together, then grinned at each other.
"If you say so," Shane said, just skirting the edge of condescension. "But still. That's a heck of a lot of money."
"Of her money," Terrence said mildly. "Anyhow, I think it's nice. Ready to order?"
Shane hadn't even looked at the menu and Terrence knew it, but it did draw the discussion to a close.
The verbal one, anyhow. The discussion in my head, around how different Shane and I had become and how little I liked it, continued throughout the meal.
*****
After lunch was finished, Claudia and Terrence went off to buy a pregnancy test and Shane and I walked slowly along Queen Street in the fresh spring air to do some window-shopping at his suggestion.
When he spotted a fancy new cell phone and said how much he'd love to have it, I murmured something noncommittal.
When top-of-the-line running shoes caught his eye and he pointed down at his slightly scuffed pair and said his were falling apart and he'd have to replace them as soon as he found the money, I thought of John and his leaking winter boots, which he was no longer wearing now that the weather had turned lovely but would probably pull out again next winter because he couldn't afford to get new ones, and clenched my hand into a fist so I wouldn't speak.
But when he saw the latest iPad and mused that his birthday was coming up in a few weeks, I lost control. "Do you want to hint a little louder? I'm not sure everyone on the street can hear you."
He turned to me, blinking with overdone innocence. "I was just saying I liked it. What's the big deal?"
Toronto Collection Volume 3 (Toronto Series #10-13) Page 102
