by Tina Donahue
His manners were old-world and his consideration didn’t stop there.
“He went with me to visit Opal,” Catherine murmured. “He ordered pizza for the entire staff and made her smile with his jokes about a representative she doesn’t like. He bragged to her about me, how smart I am, how caring, telling her that she had every reason to be proud. When visiting hours were over, Tim didn’t budge. He waited with me until Opal fell asleep. He never fidgeted or acted as though he was bored. I know when someone’s pretending. He wasn’t. He enjoyed being with us. When we were alone again, he asked about Opal’s taste in music, films, her favorite color. I wanted to know why. He said what he always does, ‘you’ll see’.”
Catherine hadn’t asked any more, figuring he was going to buy Opal a holiday gift. She could only imagine how delighted the older woman would be given that she’d had so little most of her life. “He’s really something.”
Alexa sagged back in her chair, looking as though she might be sick. “You’re in love with him?”
If she wasn’t already, she was very close and didn’t want to think about it. Continuing to have fun would have to be enough. All of her life, Catherine had never allowed herself to relax and enjoy what so many others took for granted—dating, getting to know a man, enjoying each new discovery about him. “Are you going to fire me?”
“What?” Alexa put down her fork. It made a tiny tinging sound against the china plate. “No. That’s not the problem, Catherine. How do you intend for all of this to end?”
“I just want a few more times with him,” she mumbled, the biggest lie of all. “Then I’ll break it off.”
“How?”
Dammit, why did Alexa keep asking for details? Catherine hadn’t planned that far into the future. She’d forced herself to be content with the present.
“Did you even tell him where you live?” Alexa asked.
Catherine shook her head. “The night we were at the library, I met him there and had him take me to the nursing home when we left. The evenings we went to the theater and on this dinner cruise, I had him pick me up at the nursing home and drop me off there again. That’s what we always do. I told him I wanted to visit Opal every chance I had.” Catherine tried to swallow and couldn’t, her throat was too tight. “He said he understood.”
Alexa’s expression worsened. Not only did she look saddened, but panicked.
“What?” Catherine asked, feeling ill.
“It may be nothing.”
“What are you talking about? Tell me.”
Alexa regarded the table nearest theirs. The women were laughing quietly or engaged in their own muted conversations, not even noticing them. Even so, Alexa leaned closer to Catherine and spoke softly so no one else would overhear. “When Hunt tried to find out my real identity after we first met, he used an investigative service Tim suggested.”
Catherine’s stomach churned. “Will the past the agency created for me hold up? I changed my name legally. All of my academic history is the truth. Wait.” She held up her hand to keep Alexa from speaking. “Would the investigator think to look into my name change?”
“I don’t know. Probably.”
Oh god. “Would Tim actually have me investigated? I mean, Hunt didn’t know who you really were. All he had to go on was that you called yourself Magique. Tim knows about my schooling, Opal, what he believes is my real name. There’d be no reason for him to delve deeper when he can simply ask me about my past.”
Alexa covered Catherine’s hand with her own. Her fingers were as icy as Catherine’s were. “Tim might not have you investigated, but if he’s mentioned you to his family and they believe it’s serious, they will. That’s what rich people do.”
Oh shit. She hadn’t considered that. Tim couldn’t hear the truth from his father. That would be too awful. One night, he’d mentioned offhandedly that his dad had always tried to best him in everything, proving he was the better man. Although Tim hadn’t gone into detail, he’d made it clear that his father was the reason he’d left Paris.
Had he investigated Fantine and found something awful about her, then gloated about it to his son?
Catherine couldn’t begin to imagine how devastated and humiliated Tim must have been. That alone should have convinced her to break it off with him as quickly as possible before his father embarrassed him again. And yet, a small part of her still hoped it wouldn’t happen, everything would work out somehow, they could still see each other. Maybe for a few more weeks or months. “I don’t know what to do,” she confessed.
Alexa squeezed her hand.
Catherine’s shoulders slumped. “We’re supposed to go out tonight. You think I should break it off with him then, don’t you? How? Get in a fight? Pretend indifference?”
“Oh sweetie, given what you’ve told me about your relationship, I know he wouldn’t buy that.” She hesitated, then said, “Have you considered what you’ll do if he doesn’t accept your excuse for a breakup?”
Catherine whimpered at the thought of Tim wanting her that much, fighting for them to be together when he was still clueless as to who she was. She blinked back tears at the prospect of having to tell him the truth, then witnessing his shock and contempt. He’d have every right to hate her and she would have lost something so precious, nothing would ever be able to take its place.
Suddenly, the dining room’s dimmed lights seemed too bright, the subdued conversations intrusive and irritating. “I can’t talk about this anymore. Not here. Do you mind if we leave?”
“Of course not.” Alexa gestured for their server.
As he took care of their tab, Catherine couldn’t keep her legs still. They kept bouncing in place, then seemed too weak, unable to hold her weight as she and Alexa exited the restaurant and entered the mall.
“My car’s in the lot to the left,” Alexa said. She slipped her arm through Catherine’s, offering much-needed support. “Not too far from here. I’ll drive you back to your place, all right?”
Catherine nodded, unable to manage anything more, her thoughts focused on the last time she’d been with Tim. Sunday afternoon. They’d walked the Mall, no different from any other couple, and had visited the Smithsonian. Later, at a popular restaurant, they’d tempted fate by making love in the ladies’ lounge. Just as Alexa said she and Hunt had done when she’d followed him to his favorite eating place. Hunt had made his claim on her then. Their lives had turned out impossibly well. With Tim, Catherine couldn’t hope for even a fraction of that.
She swallowed, wondering how she was going to get through this. The last person she’d lost was her mother. Even after so many years, Catherine still yearned for the woman who hadn’t given her a moment’s thought before she’d left, abandoning her to whatever happened.
Tim had shown her kindness, affection, love. How long would it take her to forget that, if she was ever able to do—
Without warning, Alexa stopped, her face frozen in surprise and something else. Alarm? Why?
Glancing in the same direction, Catherine felt her body go numb. Several yards ahead, Tim stood, unaware of the other people passing by. He carried a shopping bag from one of the mall’s exclusive shops. His attention shot from Catherine to Alexa, then to their joined arms.
His questioning gaze turned inward, as though he were trying to reason out a scene he hadn’t expected. And then, he knew.
Catherine saw it in his expression, him putting all the pieces together. Why she’d been at that holiday party with the Internet geek. How she’d known what Tim’s favorite drink was, having read about it in his dossier. The way she’d so easily made love with him in that closet when they hadn’t even known each other. Her tattoo and waxed cunt. Her eagerness to be wild with him, showing no hesitation or shyness.
How she’d never allowed him to pick her up where she lived, always asking him to meet her at the nursing home.
Hurt and rage flashed across his face. He turned on his heel.
Catherine pulled away from Alexa and
pushed through the crowd. “Tim!”
He increased his pace, walking so quickly, Catherine couldn’t keep up. By the time she’d reached the store he’d ducked into, she couldn’t spot him. She hurried to a side exit, thinking he might have gone there. Mercedes, Beemers and other pricey cars filled the lot. A few holiday shoppers watched as she ran up and down the aisles, her breath fogging in the frigid air.
For minutes, she searched for him and his car, then ran back into the store and the mall, unable to find him.
Hunt scrolled down his computer screen, again reading the report on a bill one of his clients didn’t want passed, searching for further weaknesses to prepare his arguments. He keyed his final notes in the margins, hit save, then turned at his office door flying open. It smacked into the stopper with a sharp thwack, making the wood shiver.
Tim stalked inside. “You knew. Don’t you dare fucking tell me you didn’t.”
Hunt stood so quickly his chair hit the credenza behind it. “Knew what?” He frowned. “Did you have a liquid lunch?”
“I’m perfectly sober.” He slammed the door and bunched his shoulders, his hands fisted.
Hunt couldn’t believe it. Tim looked ready to throw a punch. “What in the hell happened?”
“I thought you were my friend.”
“I am, for god’s sake.”
Tim’s face reddened even more. He spoke through his teeth. “Not since you hooked up with that girlfriend of—”
“Whoa. Hold it right there.” Hunt curled his fingers into fists. “Her name’s Alexa. Don’t you dare say one fucking bad thing about her, got it?”
Tim huffed out more air. “She knew about it and told you, and you didn’t have the decency to say anything, much less warn me.”
“What in the crap are you raving about?” Hunt snapped.
“Catherine. What else?” Tim stepped closer. “You knew that she worked for the agency and is friends with Alexa.”
“What? Since when?”
“Don’t play dumb with me.” Tim paced from one end of Hunt’s office to the other, no different from a caged animal. “I just saw them at the mall, walking arm in arm like best friends. You knew, dammit, and you let me go on and on about her.” He halted suddenly, looking like he wanted to put his fist through the wall or bury his face in his hands. “Did you think it was funny that Catherine was putting one over on me just as Fantine did? Wow, you’re almost as depraved as dear old dad.”
“What are you—”
Tim interrupted, “I never would have believed I’d be as stupid again as I’d been back then. I thought that only happened because I’d been so young and bought all that shit about being able to count on family members. You know, the people who are supposed to have your best interests at heart, like your fucking friends. What a crock that turned out to be. But like a good little boy, I swallowed the family myth until I found out my father not only paid Fantine to dump me—which she did all too willingly for a price—he also made her his mistress for a time, proving again he could beat little Timmy at anything. That he was a far better man than I’ll ever be.”
Jesus. Hunt felt the wind go out of him. He swallowed, then spoke as calmly as he could. “Tim, I didn’t know about Catherine—I don’t know anything about her. I swear. Alexa never said—”
His phone rang, stopping him.
“Bet that’s her now.” Tim swung his arm in the direction of the instrument. “Go ahead, answer it. Get your stories straight.”
“There’s nothing to get straight, all right? You’re wrong about this. You must be. Maybe the woman with Alexa simply resembled Catherine.”
“Then why did she run after me, shouting my name?”
Oh hell, this couldn’t be happening. There had to be a reasonable explanation. “Just stay here until we straighten this out.” He reached for his phone. His hand stalled at the sudden commotion outside his door.
“Miss,” Dottie snapped. “I said you cannot go in there.”
“Try to stop me,” a young female shot back and entered.
Her amazing green eyes were the first thing Hunt noticed. That, coupled with her tawny complexion, gorgeous features and agonized expression, told him she had to be Catherine.
“Tim, please,” she pleaded. “We have to talk.”
Hunt regarded his friend. Tim looked torn between telling her to fuck off and hauling her into his arms, begging her to love him.
“Please,” she begged again.
“Not a chance.” He moved past her out of the room.
Catherine followed him to another office, which she guessed was his. As well appointed as Hunt’s, though slightly larger, it gave Tim the chance to put even more distance between them.
“Go away,” he growled.
She couldn’t. Closing the door gently on the employees who’d come out into the hall, Catherine prayed none of them would call office security or the police to force her out of there. “It’s not what you think. Not even close.”
Tim faced his windowed wall and laughed. It sounded sad, hurt, hopeless. “Yeah right. I have it all wrong. You’ve known Alexa for years. You two met at one of her many European boarding schools. You’ve been her BFF from day one. No way do you tell men what they want to hear because you’re paid to do so. Nor do you sleep with them for money.”
Catherine’s belly clenched, the pain reaching her soul.
At her silence, Tim turned, his expression cold. “How close am I?”
She offered no comment. No matter what she said, he wouldn’t believe her. She wanted to die.
“I trusted you,” he accused, his anger flaring again. “I believed every fucking thing you said.”
Tears clouded her vision. “I should have told you.”
“No fucking kidding, but you didn’t. You let me act like a goddamn fool. You encouraged me to act like—”
“It wasn’t like that,” she cried. “I never intended to hurt you.”
He bristled visibly. “Who says I’m hurt?”
“Tim, please.”
He stepped back at her approach. Catherine stopped immediately. He looked past her as though he couldn’t bear to meet her gaze. “What did you think you’d achieve with your lies? Did all of this start out as a joke between you and Alexa? Some kind of dare or a bet to see how far it would go?”
“No, of course not. You and I weren’t even supposed to meet at that party. Alexa was against it and us dating all along. She kept insisting I either break it off or tell you the truth.”
“Did she now?” His smile was as icy as his tone. “You two really are good friends, protecting each other so well. So,” he continued, interrupting her, “when did you decide to latch on to me? Was it after you read the background report your agency compiled? The one that told you my preference in women, liquor, music, politics? Does it also have a list of my holdings in there? I bet it does,” he answered himself. “And you thought I’d like you enough to let you get at my money.”
“No.” She bounced on her heels, wanting to go to him, afraid to. “That’s not even remotely true.”
“Of course it’s not.” He shoved his hands into his pockets and continued in that same mocking tone. “You had no idea what I was worth. You were oblivious to my wealth. You and I had this cosmic connection that brought us together.” He finally looked at her…as though she were an abomination, no more than a common street whore. “If you think I believe that, then you must also believe I’d be stupid enough to let a woman like you get anywhere near—”
“A woman like me?” she interrupted.
Although Catherine had spoken quietly, her words cut across the room. Tim’s face flushed even redder, as though he realized what he’d just said.
However, he didn’t take it back. He turned away.
Heat prickled Catherine’s cheeks, humiliation urging her to flee. However, offense at his words—how he’d regarded her—kept her from doing so. She’d had a lifetime of people dismissing her, looking down on who they thought
she was, and wouldn’t tolerate it anymore, especially with him. What he thought mattered. It shouldn’t, given what he’d said, but it did. She went to him. “Look at me.”
A muscle in his jaw jumped.
“Look at me, dammit.”
At last he did. All of his remembered tenderness was gone, replaced by fury and disdain.
She deserved his anger because of her lies. She’d been dead wrong to have done that to him. However, his scorn was another matter entirely. That, Catherine would not abide. “Believe what you want, that’s your right. But don’t you ever refer to me as though I’m less than you. That I’m nothing but a slut.”
The harsh word registered on his face, until he pushed his emotions aside, his expression turning indifferent.
Catherine’s heart pounded so hard she found it difficult to breathe. She wanted to scream at him. She could barely speak. “I got to where I am today because of what I do and I’m not ashamed of the decisions I’ve made. I would never have been able to afford my education and Opal’s care without my work for the agency. I wasn’t lucky like you, born into a family that wanted a kid. From what I’ve been told by the group my mother once hung with, she was fifteen and already on the streets when she gave birth. My father was one of the few white boys in the neighborhood. A real tough guy she liked.”
Tim strode away as though he didn’t want to hear anymore.
Too fucking bad. Catherine followed and continued, “Know what he did to the poor little black girl who had a crush on him, who only wanted someone to love her because she didn’t have one damn family member who cared whether she lived or died? He had sex with her. When she told him she was pregnant with me, he swore they’d get married, they’d be a family. He promised to take her out to celebrate. That’s what she told her girlfriends, and years later, that’s what they told me. What really happened was far different.
