Long, Slow Surrender
Copyright © April 2011, Stephanie Morris
Cover art by Elaina Lee © April 2011
Amira Press
Charlotte, NC
www.amirapress.com
ISBN: 978-1-936279-82-1
No part of this e-book may be reproduced or shared by any electronic or mechanical means, including but not limited to printing, file sharing, and e-mail, without prior written permission from Amira Press.
Dedication
This story is for my oldest niece. Dee-Dee, now that you are eighteen, I officially deem you old enough to read my books. I wish you a very happy birthday. I love you now and always.
Chapter One
Help me with this, please!
Connor Sakuma stared at the small letters that were written on the back of the business card, struggling to scramble the letters into a happier meaning.
Well, she’d actually done it. After years of fighting her own battle in futility, she had decided to ask for his assistance.
He should tell her no.
His mouth even formed the words, but when Connor looked up and gazed into the fathomless hazel eyes of Michelle Lewis, he knew he was as perfectly cooked as the steak on his plate.
Damn. Well, he wouldn’t go down without a fight.
“No,” he mouthed the words. He shook his head, just in case she missed what he was saying.
“Please,” Michelle mouthed back at him, shooting one of those damsel in distress looks his direction that, under different circumstances, might have worked wonders on him.
However, he’d never been one of those knights who rode around saving hopeless women. Nope. Not even close. There were chinks in his armor. Big dents. Huge dings.
With a heavy sigh, he stared across the pristine tablecloth at the proud visage of Dr. Theodore Sakuma, D.D.S., his younger brother, who was currently studying the wine list like it was USA Today. And there sat Connor’s biggest chink.
Theodore. The entire world revolved around Theodore. Before Theodore had reached the advanced age of ten, he had mapped out his entire future. Mainly because in elementary school, life really sucked for boys named Theodore. First, he was going to become a doctor of something in order to get rich just to spite those bullies who picked on the Theodores of the world. And second, to further their torment, he was equally determined to marry the most beautiful girl at George Washington Elementary, who happened to be—Michelle.
It was a simple plan, and Connor applauded his brother’s single-minded pursuit of his goals. He’d achieved them all. Theodore was a wealthy dental surgeon, the bullies from grade school were nowhere near as successful, he’d graduated at the top of his class from Stanford, he drove an expensive luxury vehicle, but for Theodore, there was still one goal to accomplish.
Michelle.
The last time Connor had seen her had been Theodore’s college graduation. Tonight, he had been surprised to see she had developed a maturity that had been missing before. She was still gorgeous, but now there was a confidence in the way she talked. Just like Theodore.
This brought Connor back to the plea for help on the back of the business card. Well, whatever she wanted him to back her up on, it wasn’t going to happen. Connor firmly believed that Theodore’s love life, sterile and non-existent as it was, was none of his business.
“Not my problem.” Connor stated his response matter-of-factly, meeting her eyes so there was no misunderstanding.
For years he had stayed out of the entire thing, listening to Theodore rhapsodize about Michelle’s breathtaking features and thinking, yeah, she was okay if you liked cool, level-headed African American women with impeccable fashion sense, expressive eyes and café au lait-colored skin.
But Connor liked his women with fire in their blood and sin in their eyes. He smiled, fondly reminiscing about his last date. Sometimes it was hard to believe he and Theodore shared the same genes. Maybe they didn’t. It would explain a lot. Why Connor hadn’t gotten accepted into St. Christopher’s preparatory school when Theodore had. Why Theodore wanted to make people well, and Connor just wanted to make enough money to pay his bills.
The wine steward came to the table and, wisely, Connor and Michelle let Theodore make the selection. Michelle shot Connor another meaningful look.
“Please,” she mouthed again.
Then she lifted her palms, a suffering angel. Right.
Theodore placed the order, and then turned back to Connor. “What were you saying?”
“I was telling Michelle that things are going great at the restaurant. Couldn’t be better working conditions. Thanks so much for asking.”
He passed the business card back to her, wondering why she had even agreed to go out to dinner with Theodore in the first place and, even more mysteriously, why she had wanted Connor to come along.
Michelle smiled politely, took the card in her perfectly manicured hands, and slipped it back into her purse.
Michelle never gave anything away. She was the perfect compliment for his brother, the liberal sophisticate. Everything except that mouth.
In a face composed of high cheekbones and unblinking eyes, her mouth was wild and wicked. Full lips with a hint of gloss that curled up slightly at the corners, as if she had a secret and you knew that no matter how you tried, you’d never discover it.
Connor knew Michelle had secrets, that there was a hidden piece of her that she never showed, and he didn’t know whether it was the poised exterior or the promise of that mouth that inspired his brother.
But that was none of his business.
Finally, she raised one eyebrow, a challenge. Then she turned to Theodore, and brushed her hair back on her shoulders. Very smooth. Of course, Michelle was an attorney and she knew all the moves.
“It’s not going to work,” she murmured.
Huh?
Michelle picked up her glass of water and watched Connor, her mouth curving ever so slightly. He shifted, not liking that provocative smile blasting in his direction. She turned to Theodore.
“It’s time I was honest with you.”
About time. And that sounded like his cue to leave.
Connor stood. “Excuse me. I’m certain you two need a little privacy. I’ll just take a cab home.”
“No!”
All traces of steel vanished from her voice, her hazel eyes soft and pleading. Theodore heaved a theatrical sigh.
Surely she didn’t expect Connor to stick around while she had The Talk with his brother? Not that Connor thought it would do a bit of good. Theodore would never give up. He could bulldoze the entire world if he put his mind to it, and Connor gave Michelle high marks for managing to escape un-dozed. So far.
“I think we need to tell your brother this together.”
We? There it was again. The whispered tone, that intimate look. Like lovers. A guy could get really used to that look.
And then it all clicked. Connor. Michelle. Lovers.
Holy hell.
“Uh, no, I don’t think so,” he responded, every cell in his body flashing red-alert. There were some cells that were flashing more enthusiastically than others, and Connor shifted uncomfortably. He tried for a paternally disapproving voice. “You should have talked to me before you decided to bring this up.”
And still, she stared at him, and he almost forgot his good intentions. He almost forgot Theodore. Which was a hard thing to do.
Thankfully, the wine steward came and placed the bottle of wine on the table, waiting for Theodore’s approval. Then the ritual began. Theodore sniffed, whirled, sipped, and finally nodded. The steward poured everyone a glass and then departed in silence.
“What did you want to tell me, Michelle?” Theodore asked.
Michelle shot Connor one last pleading look. He almost caved. He pretty well figured it out. Connor and Michelle, pretend lovers. Absolutely without question, the most harebrained scheme she’d ever had to get rid of Theodore. Of course, as long as he’d known Michelle, she hadn’t done harebrained well, and Theodore definitely wasn’t very cooperative as a dumpee.
“Theodore, I’m in love with Connor.”
Her harebrained skills were improving by the minute. It was a valiant struggle not to spew merlot all over the pristine, white tablecloth, but he managed. He’d thought she was proposing an affair, but no, this was Michelle. Of course, she would want it all. She’d say she was in love with him. With Connor.
Was she insane?
He took another hasty swallow of wine. He had truly underestimated her this time. Who knew that beneath that cool exterior lurked a schemer? No harm, though, because, of course, Theodore would never believe it.
Feeling rather confident of his prediction, Connor turned to Theodore. Three. Two. One.
“Connor?” Theodore sputtered, predictable as always. “You can’t be serious! He’s a cook.”
And so it went. Connor sighed and began to butter his bread. “Thanks, Theo. Love you too, little brother.”
But Michelle wasn’t done yet, and if Theodore hadn’t been blood-kin, Connor would have felt sorry for her.
“I am serious, Theodore. It’s something I’ve been fighting for a long time. I can’t let you ruin this for me, Theodore. I won’t let you ruin my one chance at happiness.”
Theodore’s face was all screwed up and confused, not a pretty sight. “But why Connor?”
Enjoying himself now, and feeling quite safe, Connor took a bite. He couldn’t wait to hear the answer to this one.
She pushed at her perfectly styled bun as if a strand had fallen into her eyes, which, of course, it hadn’t.
“Because I’m tired of being restrained, constricted, and having to constantly put on appearances.” She took a deep breath, the neckline of her pale pink linen dress rising discreetly. “I want to stop worrying about what I say and who I have to meet, and whether my nails are done.”
Oh, she was good. If not for the plea for help on her business card, he might have believed her. He wasn’t going to back her up on this tale, though. Theodore might be pompous, stubborn, and a little weird, but he was his brother. And if Connor had been named Theodore, he might have turned out just like him.
“I don’t understand the connection between your looks and Connor.” Theodore frowned and rubbed a finger against his brow.
“There isn’t one. There doesn’t always have to be a reason or an explanation. Sometimes things just are. Connor doesn’t worry about having to be something he’s not. He’s just happy being who he is.”
Theodore assumed his serious expression, which looked so much like their father’s. “Sounds damned irresponsible to me.”
It sounded pretty irresponsible to Connor, too, but he was impressed that Michelle had enough depth to figure that part of him out.
“It’s not irresponsible, it’s serenity,” she responded.
Connor almost laughed out loud at that. Serenity? Sounded more like something a frequent visitor to Woodstock would say. He wondered if he should interrupt now and put an end to all of this nonsense. He wouldn’t have his brother hurt. Though it bothered him that Theodore acted more appalled than spurred. Just for that, Connor leaned back and folded his arms across his chest.
He’d stop it in a minute.
Theodore smoothed out his napkin, then began folding it with precision. “Serenity? You’re spouting irrational words. Next you’ll be telling me you’ve decided to go off on some mission to a third world country to find yourself. Michelle, you’re a beautiful woman. Be happy with who you are.”
“Theodore, you’re a wonderful man. I do love you in a special way, but I will never love you like that.”
“Well, of course you will. In time, you’ll see it all from a rational viewpoint.”
Theodore rummaged through his pocket for the package of stomach medicine he carried with him. He swallowed a few tablets and turned to Connor, obviously deciding that Connor was somehow responsible for it all. “You’ve seduced her, haven’t you? I should call you out.”
Always the dramatic one—he got that from their mother—Theodore stood up and slapped his napkin on the table.
“Now, Theodore, sit down. Please. There’s no need to make a scene.” Michelle placed a hand on his arm.
Magic words to Theodore, who despised making a scene. He obediently retook his seat.
“Nothing has ever happened between the two of us.” She cast a calming smile in Theodore’s direction. “Connor is much too honorable to do anything while you are so, um, fixated.”
Theodore shot a questioning glance in Connor’s direction, and Connor nodded. Damn straight.
Michelle cleared her throat, squared her shoulders, and pierced Theodore with a steely gaze. “However, I think it’s time that you step aside, and let me and your brother be happy.”
Connor watched her, silently applauding her acting skills. It was easy to imagine her leading a meeting at work.
“Based on my findings, Mrs. Woolverte has experienced a great amount of pain and suffering due to her employer’s negligence and has a solid case.”
However, Theodore still didn’t appear to be buying it. He turned to Connor, using his serious expression again. “Is this true?”
Connor looked from his brother, who looked just a little too smug, to Michelle, who looked just a little too desperate. It was a tough choice, and his conscience even tweaked him a bit. Theodore’s dedication to Michelle wasn’t exactly fair to her, but Connor stood with his brother. Now and always. He might be considered irresponsible, but he could never be labeled un-loyal. “Absolutely not. She’s lying. Don’t believe a word of it.”
Michelle twisted the linen napkin between her fingers, that one little move giving her away. She was ticked.
“Theodore, can I talk to Connor alone, please? He won’t admit the truth because he didn’t want to do this tonight.” She shot Theodore a pleading look. “Just a few minutes.”
Theodore frowned, looking displeased with the idea, but he was too polite to stay, so he stood and stuck his hands in his jacket. Looking as dignified as always, he scanned the dinning room. “Well, it looks like Dr. Gaffner’s waiting on the other members of his party. I suppose I could go say hello.”
* * * *
Michelle studied her nails to buy precious time, and wondered if she should have talked to Connor in advance. Of course, he would have said no, which was why she had taken the coward’s way out and waited until he couldn’t say no. It was such a brilliant plan, though, and she told him so.
“It’s brilliant. Why don’t you admit it?”
“You’re insane! What happened to telling him you’re not interested?”
Connor and Theodore didn’t look a thing alike. Connor was dark. Dark short wavy hair and tan skin enhanced his half Japanese genetics. Theodore had fairer skin, taking on more of his Caucasian genetics. Their dark eyes were similar, though. Except Theodore’s were calm and placid. Connor’s eyes were dangerous and exotic.
“Do you know how many times I’ve told him that? You’re his brother; you know how he is. I can’t divert him.”
Connor tugged at his tie and leaned forward, elbows on the table. “But this is ridiculous! Every other woman in America knows how to dump a guy.”
“Connor, I’ve been dumping your brother for”—she rolled her eyes with clear exasperation—“so many years that I’ve lost count. I like him. He’s nice in a stuffy kind of way. I’ve made up excuses, gone out with other guys, returned his gifts. Good grief, this is the first date I’ve been out on with him, and I made him bring you.”
“It’s the second. You went to a varsity basketball game with him.”
When had his memory gotten to be so good? “How did you know?”
“He didn’t deserve to be bullied like that.”
“No.” Connor stared off at his younger brother.
Michelle adjusted her silverware. They were getting sidetracked. Both of them cared for Theodore. “My point being, you’re the only way I know of to get him to move on with his life.”
Connor looked at her and raised his brows. “Get another guy.”
There’s the rub. Oh, she’d tried. Every date she’d ever been on could be summed up in one word—boring. Honestly, she was afraid she was boring. She didn’t want boring. She wanted someone to teach her how to really live. She wanted a man who lived on the unconventional edge. And she’d found him.
“Connor, I’ve tried dating other men. Nothing changed.”
Connor sighed. “Get married, then. I bet he’d get the message.”
“I’m not getting married just to get rid of Theodore.”
Marriage? She wasn’t ready to get married. Heck, she didn’t even want commitment. No, she wanted an affair with a capital A. And she’d found just the guy. The perfect guy for a no-strings-attached, screaming good time. And the best part? Finally, Theodore would leave her alone. Just thinking about an affair with Connor made her smile. They’d spend Sunday morning lazing in bed, making love, taking long showers together. She closed her eyes, feeling tiny tremors dance across her skin.
That would do. Now she just needed to stay focused. She opened her eyes and folded her hands in her lap. “Let me explain. What if we pretend to be passionately in love for say, a couple of months? That’s all. I have tons of friends that I think would be perfect for him. I’ll fix him up, he’ll move on, and then I’ll be free.”
He didn’t look convinced; really more skeptical than anything. “Why do you think he’ll move on?”
Why are men dense at the most inopportune times?
“Connor, for you, he would step aside. It’s the noble thing to do. And Theodore is nothing if not noble.”
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