by Nona Raines
What do you want, Blaise?
A strange man appeared at her shoulder. “Feel like some company, honey?”
She didn’t look at him. “I’m expecting someone.”
The stranger lingered, murmured something else she didn’t bother to hear. She sliced a glare his way. “Go. Away.” There was only one man whose company she wanted.
And there he was. She’d wasted precious seconds on the wannabe player and missed Guy’s arrival. He stood in the doorway and scanned the room. Blaise sat up a bit straighter, but that was her only concession. He’d have to come to her.
It took him a minute, though. He frowned as he surveyed the lounge, his gaze slipping past her the first time. He did a double take when he finally spotted her.
Ah, sweet satisfaction.
She no longer resembled the woman who’d sat on his lap a week ago, the one with a freshly-scrubbed face and hair pinned back in a clip. Tonight her lips were glossed with color, her face powdered, her eyelids smoky. Her auburn hair fell smoothly over her shoulders, drawing attention to the creamy cleavage revealed by a form fitting black top. Tonight she meant to impress with every trick in her repertoire.
He strode to her table, his mouth a firm line, his eyes ablaze. “Was that guy trying to pick you up?”
Her chest swelled with elation. Would he be so concerned if he didn’t care?
Chill out, Blaise. You’re here to make a point. Her response was cool. “Well, hello to you, too.”
“Sorry.” He grimaced, clenching his hands into fists then relaxing them. “I just wanted to make sure he wasn’t bothering you.”
She let him off the hook, warmed by his protectiveness. “I told him I was waiting for someone.” She was so used to being on her own, fighting her battles alone. It was nice to think someone was in her corner, at least for a little while. “Anyway, thanks for coming.”
“I didn’t expect your call. But I figured meeting in public like this was safe enough. You can’t get too violent. Too many witnesses.”
She couldn’t help the smile that quirked her lips. “No violence, I promise.” She gestured to the chair across the table. “Will you sit?”
A waitress stopped by the table, and he ordered a whiskey. Blaise already had a glass of red wine. She waited for the woman to leave before she spoke. “I’ve been doing a lot of thinking since last night. We need to talk. Rationally, without getting emotional.”
Though she wasn’t sure how rational she’d remain while his admiring gaze skated over her cleavage, sending heat spiraling through her. But wasn’t that what she wanted, to remind him that she was a desirable woman?
Her resolve hardened. “We’ll be seeing a lot of each other from now on, before and after the wedding. I’d hate for any awkwardness between us to spoil things for the girls.”
“I agree.” His gaze sharpened. Ah, wasn’t he the cool one now? But he must know how to bring his game face. He was a lawyer, after all.
Her throat constricted. “Ashlynn’s my only child, so this is huge for me. And I know how close you are to Desi.”
“She’s the daughter I never had.” A look of worry passed over his features. “Does she know anything about—”
“About us? No. I wouldn’t do that. I wouldn’t have told Ashlynn, either, if she hadn’t been there. Seeing you…was a shock.”
“Yeah.” He went silent as the waitress delivered his drink, then frowned as he swirled the whiskey in his glass. “She must hate my guts.”
“If she’s angry, it’s only on my behalf. There’s something you don’t know.”
She hesitated, pulling in a deep breath, her stomach cramping with anxiety. He knew about her daughter and her job, that she’d been a single mom. But how would he react when she confessed her deepest secret?
She took a quick gulp of wine. Liquid courage. “You know that Ashlynn’s father and I weren’t married. But I never told you why. It’s because he already had a wife.”
Guy’s eyes snapped wide, and his mouth went slack. The game face was gone, wiped away by the shock of her statement.
“That’s why I went ballistic when I saw your ring. Someone lied to me once before, and I thought it was happening again.”
His mouth firmed and anger sizzled in his glare. Did he blame her? Well, he couldn’t know how much she blamed herself. “Who was he?”
“An older man. I thought he was so suave and sophisticated.” She rolled her eyes at her youthful stupidity. “My parents didn’t approve, which made him all the more appealing. I’ve always had a stubborn streak, and back then, if someone told me I couldn’t do something, it only made me more determined.
“I was young and dumb. I didn’t pick up on any of the clues. How I could only reach him at work, how he was never available on weekends. So we were both in for a rude awakening—I told him I was pregnant, and he told me he had a wife.”
“Bastard,” Guy muttered, his hand clenching on his rocks glass.
“No, he was quite the gentleman, actually. Offered to pay for the entire abortion. I wouldn’t even have to go halves. I told him to stick it.” She shook her head. Though her pain had eased over time, the shame at her gullibility hadn’t. “Don’t get me wrong, I don’t judge other people’s choices. He just pissed me off. I was going to show him I didn’t need him or his lousy money to raise my kid.”
Guy seemed to deflate as he blew out a long breath. His features softened with remorse. “And seeing my wedding ring must have brought back all that garbage from the past. My God. I’m such an ass.”
“You didn’t know. And I didn’t exactly give you much chance to explain.”
“Your parents wouldn’t take you in?”
“Yes, if I agreed to give up the baby for adoption. But I wouldn’t.”
“So they turned their backs on you?” His brows lowered, forming an angry V over his eyes.
“They’d had enough of me by then. They were older when I was born, and I think they’d honestly given up on having children when I came along. I was a handful from day one. Difficult, rebellious, you name it. So when I turned up pregnant, it was the last straw. As far as they were concerned, I’d made my bed, so I could lie in it. I could do things their way and give up my daughter or manage on my own. I decided to manage.” Her pride and stubbornness at work. And her selfishness. She hadn’t wanted to let her child go.
“That took guts.”
She huffed a short ironic laugh. “Nah. I’ve got a hard head. Well, you know that from experience. Reality soon slapped me in the face. Raising a child on my own was a lot tougher than I thought it would be. It was a struggle, and Ashlynn paid the price.”
The guilt kicked in. Would Ashlynn’s life had been better, easier perhaps, if she hadn’t been raised by a single mom? If she hadn’t had to grow up too soon as a latchkey kid, be responsible at too young an age?
“Her father wasn’t involved in her life at all?”
“No. I guess I could have pushed for support, but that was me being stubborn again. She knows the story, though. I haven’t lied to her.”
“You raised a beautiful daughter.”
His compassionate tone sent a tremor through her. She bit her lip, fighting a sudden urge to cry. “I’m proud of her. She turned into a fantastic person, in spite of my many mistakes.”
“You’re too hard on yourself.” His gaze fell from her face to the whiskey and melting ice in his glass.
She shifted uncomfortably in the silence, then grasped her purse and pushed away from the table. “Well, I won’t keep you. I just wanted to—”
“Don’t go.” His coffee-colored eyes lifted, glittering with emotion. “You’re not the only one with something to say.”
Blaise blinked in surprise. What was this? “All right.” She leaned back in her chair, ready to listen.
“My marriage…my wife…my wife dumped me.” He shrugged. “There’s no other way to put it. The divorce was her idea. She thought marrying a lawyer meant the big bucks. Was constan
tly after me to move up. When she realized how much I loved Legal Services, and that I had no intention of leaving, it was a huge disappointment to her. I was a disappointment. So she decided to move up without me. She’s now married to a partner in a multi-million dollar firm.”
He didn’t need to tell her more. His bleak expression said it all—his bitterness and loss, the overwhelming sense of failure. He was a failure in his wife’s eyes for not being successful enough and in his own for not making her happy.
Her response came unfiltered, her mouth running ahead of her brain. “She’s a bitch.”
He gave a laugh. “You wouldn’t be the first person to think so.”
“You didn’t fail her. She failed you.”
He blinked, momentarily speechless, entirely vulnerable. Then he shook it off, cleared his throat. “It was rough for a while, but it’s in the past.”
She made no attempt to hide her skepticism. “Is it really? You still have the ring.”
“I told you. I’m not in love with her anymore.”
“No. You’re not in love with anyone. You don’t want to be a fool.” She rose. “I need to go.”
“Wait. You’re…can’t you stay? We’ll have dinner.”
He had no clue how much she wanted to stay. “I can’t. I just wanted us to get on the same page. No drama, for the girls’ sake. We’ll forget it ever happened.”
He stood and tossed a few bills on the table for the drinks. “How’d you get here? You didn’t take the bus dressed like that, did you?”
She froze. “What’s wrong with how I’m dressed?” She’d wanted to knock his socks off, but had she only made a fool of herself?
“Nothing. Nothing at all.”
“I took a cab.”
“Well, let me drive you home.”
“Not necessary. They’ll call one for me at the front desk.”
He didn’t push it but insisted on waiting with her on the street until the taxi came.
They stood uneasily, in silence, until he spoke again. “You look beautiful this evening.”
Some of her stiffness drained away. “Thank you.” After a moment’s hesitation, she added, “I shouldn’t have said that before. About the ring. It’s none of my business.”
“It’s all right. Are you sure you won’t change your mind about dinner? We’re both here, seems a shame to go home without having a bite to eat.”
She glanced away. “I’m not going home.”
“Oh.” Did he really look disappointed? No, she must be imagining things. “Got a date, huh?”
She shook her head in puzzlement. “Would it matter?”
He opened the door of the taxi for her. As Blaise stepped in, she told the driver to take her to Giorgio’s on Sixth Street. Guy handed the driver a twenty, ignoring her objections.
The cab pulled away. A foolish impulse made her look out the back window. When Guy raised his hand in farewell, loneliness overwhelmed her. Though she knew family events would bring them together again, it felt as though they were saying goodbye forever.
****
Ashlynn was already at Giorgio’s, waiting for her at the bar.
“Whoa.” She goggled as Blaise settled on the stool beside her and ordered a glass of red. “You look fierce.”
Blaise nodded, acknowledging what she assumed was a compliment. “Thanks.” She’d wanted to impress Guy tonight, true. But more than that, she needed to remind herself she wasn’t quite yet over the hill. She was still a desirable woman. Pride demanded her dress make that statement.
“They have a table for us when we’re ready,” Ashlynn told her. “But first, how did it go?”
“Fine.” She accepted the wine from the bartender and took a sip while avoiding Ashlynn’s eyes.
“Uh-oh. I know that look. Come on, Blaise, spill.”
“There’s nothing to spill. And don’t call me Blaise. I told you, it was fine. There won’t be drama. We both agreed.” She swirled the wine in her glass.
“Uh-huh.” Ashlynn’s tone made it clear she was waiting for the other shoe to drop.
“He mentioned his divorce.”
“Ah. Desi said he took it very hard.”
“Yes. I think he did.” So hard that he kept the ring, to remind himself never to make himself vulnerable again. To never again take a chance. Never again be hurt. She suddenly lifted her head. “You didn’t tell Desi anything, did you?”
“No. Knowing her, she’d probably try fixing you two up. She’s an incurable romantic.” Ashlynn frowned. “I can’t keep it from her forever, though.”
“No, of course not. Just wait a little, ’til the dust clears. You didn’t have a hard time getting away tonight?”
“No. It’s her night to work late in the salon, anyway. And she doesn’t begrudge me having dinner with my dear old mom.”
“Hmm.” Blaise gave her a sidelong look. “I wonder how she’d feel knowing her fiancée blackmailed her dear old mom.”
“Blackmail.” Ashlynn flicked her wrist, tossing the term aside with all the aplomb of a movie villain. “Such an ugly word.”
“Well, what do you call it? You wouldn’t give me Guy’s number unless I agreed to come here after I met with him.”
“I call it quid pro quo. Anyway, how else was I supposed to get all the deets?” She turned serious. “How else was I supposed to know if you were all right?”
“I’m fine,” Blaise said for the third time. She felt her daughter’s somber gaze but chose not to engage it. She’d spent half the week seething in a haze of resentment toward Guy, the married sleaze ball. Tonight, she was reacquainted with the charming man she remembered from the bookstore. The one she’d spent the night with.
“Uh-huh.” Ashlynn clearly didn’t believe it, but why should she? Blaise wasn’t sure she believed it herself. “Well, let’s get our table. I’m in the mood for some ravioli.”
“Sounds good. Ravioli makes everything better.”
****
Though she’d promised last week to clean out her purse, it was still a jumble when she boarded the bus home Friday afternoon. When Blaise finally found her pass to show Larry, his welcoming smile was much wider than usual.
“Hey, there, Blaise.” He waggled his eyebrows and jerked his head to the side as though he had some kind of tic.
“Hi, Larry.” Blaise eyed him warily until she realized the head-jerking thing was meant to alert her to something. Her head swiveled and she saw Guy. Sitting in her usual seat.
Time slowed, stretched like warm taffy. “Hi.”
He stood, a bouquet of gerbera daisies in one hand, his briefcase in the other. “Hello.”
She hesitated, aware of the gazes of Larry and the other passengers. Guy gestured to the seats in back. “Shall we—?”
“Sure.”
They moved to the rear of the bus and found an empty seat. Guy handed her the flowers. “For you.”
“Thank you.”
“They remind me of you. Colorful and bright. Cheerful.”
A thrill shot through her as she admired the splashes of red, pink, yellow, and orange in the bouquet. Some women might not care to be compared to gerbera daisies, but he understood her well enough to know she’d consider the unpretentious gift a compliment. But what did it mean? Why was he here? Watch yourself, Blaise.
“They’re not just in apology. They’re in thanks. For helping me wake up to myself. You’ve got guts, Blaise. You’re much braver than I am.”
Brave? “I don’t think so.” Stubborn and mule-headed, maybe.
“Your hard times didn’t sour you on life. People let you down, but you didn’t let that stop you.”
“Don’t give me too much credit. I had Ashlynn. She’s the reason I couldn’t stop.”
“Whatever the reason, you didn’t shut down. The way I did after my divorce. I was a coward.”
She smiled skeptically. “A coward? You, a man who wrestles with the bureaucracy to help his clients? Who fights for people who can’t fight for them
selves? No way.”
“Yes, way. I told myself keeping the wedding ring was smart. That it was there to keep me from making the mistake I’d made with my wife.”
Blaise understood. “The mistake of falling in love.”
He nodded. “But then I met you, and we connected. I felt something with you that I haven’t felt with anyone since my divorce. And I wasn’t worried about making mistakes. I just knew I wanted to spend time with you. I’d forgotten about the ring. Until it fell out of my wallet.”
A twinge of guilt made her grimace. “And I didn’t exactly give you a chance to explain. I’m sorry for that.”
“Considering the circumstances, I don’t blame you. But the ring’s gone now. I got rid of it. Sold it to a pawn shop.”
She was silent a moment as the magnitude of his confession sank in. He’d done more than let go of the ring. He’d let go of the past as well.
“And you’re all right with that?” She had to be sure.
“More than all right. I’d like us to start again. Or rather, take up where we left off.” He opened the briefcase and inside was the copy of Cupid’s Delight. “We still haven’t finished the book.”
As she caught the glimmer in his eye, heat unfurled in her belly and throbbed between her legs. But it was about more than sex. He was right. They had a connection. Could it flourish given the chance? There was only one way to find out. “I hate leaving a book unfinished.”
“So do I.” When he touched her hand, the heat became a flash fire. “There are a lot of things unfinished between us.”
She caressed his knuckles with her thumb, resisting the urge to brush them against her prickling nipples. This was not the place for that kind of PDA. “If we get off at the next stop, we can walk to the Hempstead.”
He smiled, and joy as radiant as sunlight filled her. “Then what are we waiting for?” He reached up and the pulled the cord.
About the Author
Nona Raines became hooked on romances when she first picked up The Flame and the Flower by Kathleen Woodiwiss (and she’s not telling how long ago that was). Romances may have changed since then, but her love for a good love story has not. She’s been writing off and on for years, but when she joined the Central New York Romance Writers Association, she finally gained the support and confidence she needed to complete a manuscript.
