Tainted Love Series Boxed Set

by Lily Zante

She herself felt exactly like that—at ease, and with a sense of calm she hadn’t experienced in days. It seemed as though she and Noah were slowly moving around the edges of a boundary, carefully appraising their decision to become entwined in one another’s lives. Their slow, hesitant steps towards each other—steps that had begun months ago—now appeared to coalesce at a junction, a point in time where they both now found themselves.

  She dared not hope for too much, yet the anticipation of meeting him tonight warmed her inside as much as her hand wrapped around her tall glass of latte did. She’d arrived a little early and sat waiting for him, reading a paranormal romance on her Kindle.

  “Mel?”

  She looked up, distracted, and quickly jumped to attention.

  “What’re you doing here?” Matt asked her. And because it was the only honest answer she could give him, she replied, “Reading a book.” Her voice was strangely calm, even though her heart hammered like a steel band under her ribcage. It occurred to her to get up and leave. She couldn’t risk Noah turning up now.

  “What are you doing here?” She closed her Kindle case and noted his smart appearance. He’d needed to impress at the interview, she thought.

  “Going to the gym.” Even though he hadn’t called or let her know anything about his suspension—not that she expected or wanted him to—she knew he hadn’t been at work today, or at any time this week.

  His eyes narrowed. “Who are you waiting for?” he asked breaking the uncomfortable silence with an unanswerable question. Knowing she couldn’t run the risk of him seeing her and Noah—it would enable him to piece it all together—she began to put her Kindle into her bag and made moves to leave.

  “What’s up, Mel? Don’t you have anything to say?”

  At that moment, Noah appeared by Matt’s side. “Hey,” he said, greeting Melissa warmly, a fire in his eyes that she hadn’t seen for a while.

  She returned his look in alarm and then saw Matt, with his mouth hanging open, trying to make sense of the sight of them both. And then it seemed to hit him: Noah hadn’t accidentally bumped into him at the coffee shop. Noah had come here to meet Melissa. If there were a Richter scale for registering shock, Matt’s face would have scored ten.

  The moment seemed to wind down into slow-motion, and she tensed, standing where she was, with her hand on her bag, waiting for someone to say or do something.

  “Imagine running into you again,” said Noah, his gaze calm and unwavering, his mouth upturned. He slipped his hand out easily for a handshake.

  Matt held his hand out stiffly. He looked caught in a web of bewilderment. “You two know each other?”

  “Yeah,” replied Noah, cockily. “We do, as a matter of fact.” He gave Melissa a warm look that did more to heat her insides than the latte had done.

  “How?” Matt stepped back, ignoring his question. Then he turned to Melissa. “When?”

  She told herself there was nothing to feel guilty about, that she had done nothing wrong. Summoning courage, she answered, “We met here.” She had successfully rendered Matt’s face a question mark. “We’re friends.” She could almost hear his brain crunching over dates and scenarios. How they’d met, when they’d got together.

  Later on, in time, he would no doubt wonder about his files being corrupted, and about the scan on his work computer, and then he would look more closely upon this newfound liaison he had stumbled upon. But for now, Melissa assumed, he was merely clutching at straws, putting two and two together but not coming up with four.

  “Did you dump me for him?” Matt asked her, his voice incredulous.

  She saw Noah move, wanting to answer that one, but he contained himself and looked at her as if to say: you’ve got this.

  “I didn’t dump you for anyone. I tried to break up with you because you made me feel like shit. But you wouldn’t let me go.”

  Matt’s lips twitched, and he let out a grunt. Eyes narrowed, he peered at them both. It looked as if he wanted to ask questions, but he didn’t know what he could ask, probably because in doing so he would only implicate himself further.

  “By the way, dude. I recommended you to my boss.” Noah kept his tone light and jovial. But Matt was too caught up in the mismatched pieces of the puzzle. Noah continued, affably enough. “I have a feeling he might shortlist you. Of course, it all depends on character references next.”

  At this, Matt blanched. “Yeah?” He gave Melissa a cutting look once and then mumbled a hasty goodbye to them both and left. When he’d gone out of the door, Melissa allowed herself to speak. She turned to Noah, feeling a sense of relief come over her. “I’m sorry. I was about to leave, so that this wouldn’t happen.”

  “I followed him in, Melissa. I saw him look through the windows. I knew he was coming to speak to you.”

  “Why did you want him to see you? He’ll figure it all out.”

  “What’s the worst that can happen?”

  “You don’t know him.”

  “I think I do.” He sat down, took her hand in his. “Don’t worry. What’s he going to do?”

  She shrugged, wanting to believe him, to have his sense of fearlessness.

  “He’s stuck,” Noah told her. “He’s being watched and it would be stupid of him to make any moves now. Don’t you worry about him Melissa. At least stay here a while and finish your latte.”

  She did, while he ordered his. He smiled at her as he sat down and they looked at one another from across the table. Though he’d only been here a few moments ago, they’d forgotten all about Matt.

  After looking at her across the table, Noah leaned in towards her. “Whatever happens between us, Melissa, I want you to know that you helped me.”

  She raised an eyebrow. “Helped you? How?” If anyone had been doing any helping around here, it had been him. He’d helped her to see.

  “I lost someone I loved, a year ago. My girlfriend, Bree.”

  She gaped at him aghast. “I’m sorry.” It had been the last thing she’d expected him to say.

  “She was ill. She’d suffered from bulimia for years. I never knew, until maybe six months before she died. I couldn’t put my finger on it, but I’d kind of figured something was wrong many months before that. She was so good at disguising the truth, as well as she disguised herself. Loose clothes and all. When it came out, she pushed me away. She lived with her parents and they were convinced they could help her. So I got out of the way.”

  “I’m so sorry.” Melissa breathed, then reached across and grabbed a hold of his hand.

  “In the end, they’d gotten her lots of help. Her mom says she was going to behavioral therapy and had started taking antidepressants. I don’t know.” He looked down. “I tried to help her, but she refused to see me. The thing is, when I look back on it now, it all makes sense. The signs were there. I was blind to them.”

  “You can’t blame yourself for something you weren’t privy to,” Melissa said gently. “You wanted to help her, but you say she and her parents thought it better that you stay away. You can’t blame yourself.”

  “Two weeks before she died, she wanted me to come see her. She looked a lot better; she seemed to be on the mend. She had a little more color in her cheeks and she told me she was winning, that the therapy was working, that there were days she could stand to look at herself in the mirror. She was hopeful about fighting it. Hopeful that she’d get better.” He looked up at her, his eyes shiny. “But when I held her”—he stopped, took a deep breath—“when I held her, it was like holding a child. ” He looked up at her. “The thing is, if you’d seen her, she seemed like the most confident, beautiful, outgoing person. She fooled us all.”

  Melissa pressed the palms of her hands to her face as she listened.

  “That day she was full of hope. She told me the recovery would take time, months, years even but that she’d won half the fight because she wanted to get better. And she said that if I was still single when she got better, she wanted us to get back together. She died two wee
ks later.”

  Melissa saw him look away, saw him hunch over, ever so slightly, saw his battle for composure. “What happened?” she asked, battling to keep her voice steady, even as she felt her heart slide down the slippery slope of her insides. “She said she was going upstairs to watch a film on her laptop but when her mother went in later to say goodnight to her, Bree had keeled over to the side. She was already dead. They said later that she’d had some sort of brain swelling, and it caused something similar to a stroke. It happened because of an electrolyte imbalance caused by the bulimia. It was Christmas Eve.”

  Melissa wiped her face, then leaned over and put her arms around him. “I’m so sorry.” She held him, wanting to absorb some of his pain. They stayed locked like that for a while before moving apart.

  “It’s been a long year.”

  “I can imagine.” Now she understood why he hadn’t spoken much about his Christmas break. All this time she’d been worrying about her own troubles, never once knowing about the sadness that was gnawing at him.

  “I’ll never forget her.” He looked away.

  “No.” She put her hands back on her lap.

  “You never forget someone who impacts you in that way. I still remember the girl I met in high school, when I think of her now.” He brought his gaze back to Melissa.

  “I don’t suppose you do,” she said, feeling a deeper bond, now that he had revealed a side of him she had known nothing about. “And I don’t think you should forget people who have been a part of your life, as she had been.”

  “But you helped me.”

  “How?” How could she have possibly helped him, when she hadn’t even been aware of his pain?

  “You made me move on by giving me something else to think about. You distracted me, you could say.”

  She gave him a startled look.

  “You didn’t mean to, I’m sure. But you did.” He touched her hand as it lay in her lap. “I don’t think you even noticed me for the first few months.”

  She thought about it. “I noticed you when some guy bumped into me and knocked my coffee all over me.”

  “I’d noticed you long before then. I came here once and saw you. You looked a little down. I don’t know what it was. It’s not even near my work place, there are closer coffee shops.”

  “There are?”

  “There are.”

  He came here looking for me.

  “I came a few days later, and there you were again. In time, I started looking forward to bumping into you.” His confession made her blush.

  “You didn’t even know me,” she exclaimed.

  “Even worse—you had no idea about me. But looking forward to seeing you was the first time in many months I started to fill my mind with thoughts other than of Bree.”

  She shrugged, then told him. “You helped me more. You were the one good thing I had to look forward to, after Matt had said or done something to upset me.”

  He ran his palms over her hand. “Maybe we just found each other at the right time.” She couldn’t think of how to respond but savored his words as they sank into her.

  “What do you say, Melissa?”

  What was he asking her? She let him hold her hand, enjoying the feel of his warm skin on hers, a delicious feeling of contentment building up within her. “I say maybe we stay here and talk some more?”

  He held onto her hands firmly, as if she’d disappear if he let them go. “I wish I could. I’ve got backlogged work to catch up on, because of all these interviews I’ve been busy with. My boss wants a shortlist of candidates first thing tomorrow.”

  She looked disappointed.

  “How about we catch up tomorrow?” he suggested. “If it works for you?”

  “Tomorrow sounds good,” she said, looking forward to it already.

  “Shall we try someplace else?”

  She thought about it. “How about you come to mine?”

  Chapter 48

  He rang the doorbell promptly at seven on the dot, and her friend, Heather, answered, looking promptly disappointed at seeing him. She hid it quickly and well.

  “Hi, again.” She welcomed him in.

  As he stepped inside, he caught sight of Melissa, who had stopped a few paces away. Obviously she’d been expecting him.

  They locked eyes and she mouthed a gentle, ‘Hi.’

  The doorbell rang again and once more Heather jumped to answer it.

  “Ready?” asked Finn. Noah remembered the guy from New Year’s Eve.

  “Hey.” The guy nodded at him and Melissa as they both stood in the now congested hallway, waiting for Heather to leave.

  “Have fun and be good.” Heather winked at them and left with Finn.

  “I hope you’re taking her advice,” said Noah, feeling more relaxed now that it was only the two of them. She definitely looked more at ease than he’d seen her in a long time.

  She let out a laugh. “You’re punctual,” she told him. “And thank you,” she added when he handed her a bottle of wine.

  “I know this looks as though I want to get you drunk, but I promise you that’s not my intention.”

  “Thank you anyway.” She took the wine and smiled at him shyly.

  “I didn’t know what your preference was.” He followed her into the kitchen. He looked around: she’d been busy and it smelled great. “I didn’t realize you’d be cooking. I didn’t expect you to. I mean, after all the high drama of the last few days, I didn’t want to put you out.” After all, she was so close to downtown and there were so many restaurants close by. The last thing he wanted was to impose on her.

  She looked up, a little embarrassed. “It’s not a big deal. Cooking takes my mind off things.”

  She seemed nervous, and he quickly tried to put her at ease. “Hey, no. Staying in is great. I didn’t want to put you out, that’s all.” Besides, she had a great place that looked as if it was made for relaxing.

  She moved a stray lock of hair away with the back of her hand. “I thought it might make a change to meet someplace not so busy. Don’t you think this is different than the coffee shop or Zoot?”

  She had a point. “This is great, Melissa.” The appeal of staying in just got better, as far as he was concerned.

  “Here,” she said, rolling a couple of tomatoes across the kitchen island towards him. “Maybe you could get started on these.” She took out some lettuce and cucumber from the refrigerator. Smiling, he grabbed the tomatoes. This was nice. Making salad, with Melissa. A world away from where they’d been just a week ago.

  She got busy with some pasta sauce, and every now and then, he looked over, smiling at her.

  They ate, sitting across the table from each other, the bottle of wine half empty. She had seconds, and he liked that she had a healthy appetite. He had seconds too. “This is good. Really good,” he said, appreciatively, looking down at his bowl of pasta.

  “Isn’t it?” she agreed.

  “Did you run into Matt today?” He wanted to get the nasty stuff out of the way. It bothered him that she still had to endure the risk of running into him.

  She shook her head. “I forgot to tell you the best news of the day! Nadine said he handed in his notice.”

  Noah put down his fork in surprise. “That was quick. We haven’t even called him in for the second interview.”

  “You want to take him on?”

  “No, I want to make him think we’ll take him on.”

  “Cruel,” said Melissa.

  “He’s earned it.”

  “If you’ve not offered him a place yet, and you have no intention of it—I wonder where he’s going?”

  “I expect we’ll find out soon enough.”

  “Did he notice his corrupt files?”

  “If he has, he hasn’t said anything about them. I think he’ll figure out that it was foul play, but he’ll never be able to prove it,” Noah said with certainty. In fact, Matt had barely ventured much out of his room lately. They hadn’t even seen him during the eveni
ngs for the past few days.

  “That’s all in my past now.” Melissa pushed her plate away.

  “In the past,” he repeated, wondering if he should state his intention now. His being here was an intention of sorts, but even so, these things had to be declared, spelled out aloud. “Time for new beginnings.”

  He’d been single for over a year now. It wasn’t that he hungered for Bree anymore—but the moments that used to be filled with feelings of guilt for her had started to be replaced with thoughts of Melissa.

  She gave him an inquisitive look. “New beginnings,” she said it as though it was a new untried phrase.

  “Do you know what I noticed first, about you? When I saw you in the coffee shop?”

  “My sad face?”

  “Your hair.”

  “My hair?” She touched it distractedly, as if she found the idea ludicrous.

  “That and your sad eyes. You seemed to be kind of down most days. I’m not saying you were miserable, but you had this sense of sadness about you that I noticed straight off. Was it always Matt?”

  She started to shift, collect her plate and get ready to move off the table.

  “Stay,” he said, wanting them to talk, and not wanting her to run away. This opportunity was so rare, so new to them to let down their guard and talk alone without the inconvenience of being in a public place full of other people. He’d already told her his past, and now he wanted to know some things about her, to hear about her past, and to see if he had any chance of being her future.

  “I used to go to the gym—and I hated it at first. But later, as I stuck to the routine, I got used to it. Getting up that early to go there didn’t seem like such a chore after a month. Matt wanted me to tone up, wanted me to have a firmer, fitter body.” Noah felt his jaw tighten. “He’s into all of that,” she explained, in case he hadn’t himself noticed all the protein shakes and careful diet the guy was on. He wasn’t a bulky muscle-laden monster, but he was a monster nonetheless.

  “You’re perfect, exactly as you are,” Noah said. She always had been.

  ~~

  She got up then, and started to clear the table. Noah helped her and together they worked side by side, surprisingly nimbly, as though they had been used to having dinner together and clearing up together for years.