“No, it’s not.” She knew she should give him a break, but she was still ticked off. “You know, I thought that once we were at the House of Blues I’d be safe. Jen called Patterson, and you were there…”
Elliot’s hand slipped from his face. “Wait a minute. Who’s Patterson?”
No wonder he’s not a reporter, Rebecca thought. “Detective Patterson was in charge of investigating Scott’s shooting. He showed up just as I was getting Aaron to spill his guts.”
Elliot looked up at the ceiling, his lips moving wordlessly. It appeared that he was counting to ten. “And how, pray tell, did you manage to do that? Did you spike the drink I ordered for you?”
Rebecca smirked, remembering Aaron’s quick descent into drunkenness. “No, I just made sure he had the right amount of alcohol.”
Elliot’s gaze snapped back to her. “So you were with an extorting, murderous drunk.”
“No, I thought I was with you, but you left right when I needed you. Why didn’t you stay?” she repeated, glaring at him.
He sank into an overstuffed chair and leaned forward, his head in his hands. “It wasn’t very pleasant to watch you kiss another man.”
Rebecca snorted. “I didn’t kiss him; he kissed me. There’s a huge difference. And it’s not like you haven’t been doing your share of extra-curricular activities, you know. How do you explain Nicole?”
Elliot didn’t move, but his voice had a guilty tinge to it when he responded. “Nicole… was a mistake.”
Rebecca shook her head in disbelief. She stalked back into the kitchen and folded up the empty bags, shoving them under the sink. “So it’s okay for you to flirt with someone like Nicole and let her hang all over you, but the first time you see me with another man, it’s a crime.” Her voice dripped with sarcasm.
“That’s hardly the same thing, and you know it,” Elliot said. He’d followed her into the kitchen and, ignoring her glare, grabbed a glass from a cabinet. He filled it with water from the tap and took a long drink. “Nicole’s too self-absorbed to really hurt anyone. I knew Sharpe was bad news the moment I laid eyes on him. No one looks at you like that unless they want something.” He placed the glass on the counter and leaned against the wall.
“You could say the same thing about Nicole. She had dollar signs written all over her face when she batted her eyes at you.”
“I know she had dollar signs. I never could figure out why; I don’t make nearly enough money to support her.”
Rebecca was very tempted to throw the rest of his water over his head. “And yet you allowed her to flirt shamelessly with you.”
Elliot’s eyes flashed at that, and he took a step toward her. “You let Sharpe put his mouth on you,” he spat. “Tell me, was that the first time he’d kissed you, or was it a repeat performance?”
Rebecca gasped in indignation. “That’s none of your business.”
His jaw clenched, but he didn’t say anything. He just stared at her, his eyes furious. For the first time that evening, she noticed the shadows under his eyes and the growth on his chin. He looked like he hadn’t slept in days.
They stood there for a minute, breathing heavily and scowling at each other. When Elliot finally spoke again, his tone was cold and expressionless.
“Why didn’t you tell me about Sharpe to begin with? I would have been happy to help you bring him down.”
Hesitating, Rebecca moved around him to sit at the table. She sketched idly with a pad of paper she’d left there, trying to think clearly. “Aaron was my mistake, not yours,” she said finally, her gaze fixed on her drawing. “It was my family that he’d taken advantage of, and it was my responsibility to take care of it.”
“You told Jen and Scott.” Some of the control had slipped, and an accusing edge seeped back into his voice.
“Yeah, well, Aaron wasn’t that threatening to begin with. He was too smooth. And Jen was around to see what was happening. You were taking care of your girlfriend in another state.” Rebecca’s voice wasn’t reproachful, but Elliot stiffened anyway.
“Like you said, Nicole was my mistake, not yours.” He paused. “I bet Faye was thrilled to see the two of you together at her precious party.”
Rebecca grimaced. “Thrilled isn’t the word for it.”
“What made her happier, the fact that Aaron was loaded or that it was her idea to get you together?”
Rebecca stared at him on confusion. “What are you talking about?”
Elliot glared at her. “Oh, come on, Rebecca. I know Faye didn’t like me. She didn’t even like the idea of me. If I’d been some rich snob like Sharpe, she wouldn’t have convinced you to dump me.”
Rebecca dropped the paper on the table with a small thud and stood to her feet. Elliot stepped toward her, stopping at the other end of the table. “Faye had nothing to do with our breakup,” she said hotly. “Why can’t you see that? She talked to me, yes. She was worried that you were after my money. I told her she was delusional. Then she said we were pretty young to be getting married. She was right about that, at least. I was young. I needed to grow up. And from the way you’ve been acting, I daresay you did, too.”
“I was old enough to know what I wanted.” Elliot was almost shouting by this time, and he leaned over, his arms spread across the table.
“And what was that, Elliot? Someone to write about in the paper?” she yelled back.
By this time they were so close, she could almost hear his heart beat in furious rhythm with his words. “I wanted you. And I was devastated when you didn’t want me back. You’re the only reason I became a columnist. Did you know that? When I wrote that first essay and switched over from being a beat reporter, it was about you. No one likes my political columns; I get hundreds of emails a week, all begging for news about you. I can’t stop it.”
Rebecca knew she should find this romantic and sweet, but she was too furious to think straight. She tore her eyes from his and placed her hands in her pockets. Feeling her cell phone, she pulled it out and stepped to the counter where she’d left her charger and plugged it in.
“Well, try. I’m getting tired of reading apologetic articles you’ve written after doing something stupid. The next time you feel the need to say you’re sorry, talk to me first. Don’t write about it in the paper for everyone to see. I’m sure Nicole would love to have her personal life splashed all over the morning’s news, but I don’t. I’d rather live my life in blissful anonymity.”
Elliot’s face blanched. “It’s a little late for that,” he said quietly. All the anger seemed to have drained out of him, and he stood up, watching her as she wandered over to the refrigerator to pull out ingredients for a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. “And you’ll never be anonymous. Not to me.”
Rebecca couldn’t look at him. She was tired. Tired of arguing, tired of worrying about Elliot’s relationship with Nicole, and tired of the whole mess. “Right now, anonymous sounds pretty good.” She closed the door, and when she turned back, Elliot was right in front of her.
“I just have one question.” He placed his hands above her shoulders on the refrigerator and leaned close. She looked up at him in surprise. “When he kissed you that first time, what were you thinking?”
Startled by the question, Rebecca thought back to the evening of Faye’s party. “He was trying to prove that he wasn’t gay,” she said slowly, placing her hands on his chest unconsciously. “A bunch of Faye’s friends were watching from across the street, and I was wondering if they were convinced. And I was hoping it wouldn’t last very long.”
The corners of Elliot’s mouth lifted slightly for the first time that night. “You weren’t thinking that that was the best kiss you’d ever received?”
She stared up at him and spoke without thinking. “Not in a million years.”
He bent his elbows and leaned in so close she could feel his breath whispering against her forehead. He took a deep breath and held it for a second, then rested his cheek on top of her head. “I’m glad you
’re not dead,” he murmured, his voice muffled by her hair.
“Me too,” she whispered, closing her eyes. It felt so good to stand like that.
Elliot chuckled weakly. “Promise me that the next time you get involved with a criminal you’ll tell me about it. Before you become an amateur detective and almost get yourself killed.”
Rebecca smiled. “I promise.” She opened her eyes when Elliot tried, unsuccessfully, to stifle a jaw-splitting yawn. “When was the last time you had a good night’s sleep?” she asked, touching his face. The bristles on his chin scratched her fingers.
He leaned into her touch and closed his eyes. “I don’t know,” he said after thinking for a second. “Maybe seven years ago?”
“Then you’d better go home and get to bed.”
Elliot sighed heavily but pulled away. “Can I call you later?”
Rebecca led him to the door and opened it for him. “I’d like that.”
He hugged her fiercely before walking down the hall. He was whistling, off-key, when he pulled the front door closed behind him.
When Rebecca clambered out of bed the next morning, her cell phone was fully charged and bursting with messages that she hadn’t had the energy to listen to the night before. She listened to them as she ate breakfast, vowing never to lose it again. It was simpler just to answer the phone.
Elliot had, in fact, called her, and most of the messages filling her inbox were from him. She picked up a pencil and kept a tally on her napkin of his calls. As she listened to the weekend tick away in cell phone cyberspace, she could hear his voice change. From polite disinterest on Saturday night to worry and apprehension on Sunday, finally ending in pure panic Monday morning. She hoped he’d slept well that night; from the times of his voice mails, he hadn’t closed his eyes in several days.
Elliot must have contacted Cassie at some point in his search, because there were a few messages from her sister, too. “Elliot’s going nuts,” Cassie’s voice informed her. “If you’re just dodging his calls, please let me know so I can tell him to stop wearing a path into my carpet.”
The last one, left the night before, was from Faye. “Rebecca, I just got back from your father’s. I must say how disappointed I am that Aaron turned out so poorly. Please ring when you get this; I’d like to invite you to dinner tomorrow night. William and Elisa have already agreed to come.”
Rebecca groaned and put her pencil down. She noticed idly that Elliot had called her seventeen times in three days. That had to be some sort of record. There was no way to avoid Faye forever, she knew, so she called her aunt and waited for her to answer.
“Faye, this is Rebecca. How are William and Elisa doing?”
“Rebecca! So nice of you to call back. Your family is doing as well as can be expected. William blames Elisa for being inattentive, and she accuses him of being a bad money manager. They’re both to blame, of course, but that doesn’t help the situation any.”
“Is there anything I can do?” Rebecca asked, hoping the answer would be no.
“The only thing I can think of is to come to dinner tonight. I’m sure they’ll be thrilled to see you.”
Rebecca resisted the urge to roll her eyes. “I don’t think so,” she said. “They’ve never really cared about my whereabouts before, and I can’t imagine that would have changed just because they were victimized by a smooth-talking charmer and his wife.”
Faye laughed a little nervously. “You’re right, of course. But if you come there will be one more person who can be blamed. Will I see you at seven?”
Knowing it would be fruitless to protest, Rebecca agreed and got ready for work. She wondered if Faye had talked Cassie into dinner that night as well. She secretly hoped so; it would be more bearable if Cassie had to suffer through it, too.
She was in between sessions that afternoon when Elliot called. His voice was scratchy and full of sleep when she answered.
“Rebecca,” he said groggily. “How has your day been? Has anyone attacked you yet?”
She laughed and tucked the phone under her chin. “No, not yet. There was this one boy, though, that kept trying to look up my skirt this morning.”
“He’d better be under three-feet tall.”
“Something like that.” She couldn’t keep the smile out of her voice.
“Can I see you tonight? I can make us dinner, if you’re brave enough to try my cooking.”
“I can’t,” she told him regretfully. “I already promised Faye I’d go to her house for dinner. William and Elisa will be there too, so I can’t back out on her.”
“That’s too bad.” Elliot stopped talking to yawn. “I’m sorry; I’ve been sleeping all day. They’re going to have to print a mediocre column tomorrow morning.”
“Why? Has your muse fled again?”
Elliot sounded wide-awake. “No, I know exactly where it is for a change. The problem is that it won’t let me write what I want, and I’ve got nothing else to talk about that’s nearly as interesting.”
Rebecca was quiet. She didn’t want him to write about her anymore. It was bad enough that all the girls in the library were looking at her speculatively, whispering to each other about her supposed relationship with the good-looking columnist. But she didn’t want to cost him his job, either.
“Don’t worry about it, Rebecca,” he said after a long pause. “Can we try tomorrow instead? I promise not to poison you.” He sounded anxious, like he was afraid she’d tell him she didn’t want to see him again.
“I’d love to come. What time would you like me?”
“Anytime,” he said immediately, the relief in his voice obvious even over the phone. He cleared his throat. “That is, anytime after six, but I’d like to come and get you. If you wouldn’t mind.”
Rebecca raised her eyebrows. “This sounds awfully official.”
“It is. I was hoping you’d see it as a first date of sorts, so I’d like to start off right.”
She couldn’t keep from laughing. “Well, in that case, I’ll be ready tomorrow at six. Thanks, Elliot.” She grinned the rest of the afternoon.
The grin disappeared when she walked into Faye’s house that evening and heard William and Elisa’s voices drift down the hall. They seemed to be arguing over who held the larger share of blame in Aaron and Adrianna’s scheme to ruin them.
She closed her eyes and ran through the alphabet backward before rounding the corner into the living room, where the two of them sat at opposite ends of a couch. They glared at each other, not looking up when she sat across from them.
“Hello, Faye,” she said, glancing at the older woman who was studiously ignoring their conversation. “Do you need any help with dinner?”
Faye smiled tightly and shook her head. “No, everything’s all settled. The caterers have things under control.”
Rebecca looked out the window to hide her expression. Some things would never change, but she did wonder who was doing the cooking at William’s house. The only good thing about Adrianna’s presence in their home was her willingness to prepare their meals. No wonder William and Elisa had been eager to accept a dinner invitation.
A few minutes later, Cassie strolled in. She sat between Rebecca and Faye and looked around cheerfully. “I’m sorry Michael couldn’t be here tonight,” she told them. “He had a meeting at the bank that he couldn’t cancel. This is nice,” she commented, noting the antagonistic faces around her. She winked at Rebecca. “We haven’t had a good family dinner in ages. Thanks for inviting us, Faye.”
Faye beamed at her and patted her hand. “It’s my pleasure, Cassie. Now tell me. When were you planning on providing me with some more nieces and nephews?”
Cassie’s smile tightened. “Not today, that’s for sure.” She turned to Rebecca and hugged her. “I hear you’ve been busy,” she said in her ear. “Elliot came over this afternoon before I left and told me about your heroic actions over the past few days. I’m glad Aaron is safely behind bars.”
Faye’s eyes met R
ebecca’s over the top of Cassie’s head. “Yes, it was quite the experience,” Rebecca said, her gaze not wavering from Faye’s. “You never know what kind of person you’ll meet on a blind date.”
“But I thought Aaron wasn’t a blind date.”
“He wasn’t. But he very well could have been.”
Faye nodded her head and looked away. That’s it for the blind dates, Rebecca thought in satisfaction. I’ll never have to go on another one again. She thought about Elliot and smiled. For more reasons than one.
Dinner was a strange affair. Elisa and William largely ignored the rest of them, and Cassie and Rebecca watched the two of them argue through every course that came out of the kitchen. When the servers placed their desserts in front of them, Elisa finally deigned to speak of something other than Adrianna and their ruined finances. “I hear that reporter from the Tribune is looking for a girlfriend,” Elisa said abruptly.
Rebecca’s fork froze halfway to her mouth. Since when did Elisa read the newspaper?
“What reporter is that, Elisa?” Cassie asked innocently, her attention fixed on her plate.
“The cute one. You know, the one that writes about the girl that dumped him seven years ago. What was his name? Elliot something.”
“I think you mean Elliot Winters.” Cassie still didn’t look up, but Rebecca could see a slight smile on her face.
‘Yeah, that’s it. What I wouldn’t give for a man like him to look my way.” Elisa’s voice was dreamy.
“You said the same thing about Aaron Sharpe, and look where that got you. And you never paid him any attention when we were dating back in high school.” The words were out of Rebecca’s mouth before she knew it, and she watched Elisa closely.
Elisa just waved her hand dismissively. “I should have known better. Aaron was too good to be true. This Elliot fellow… now, he’s the real deal.” She paused and stared at her sister. “Wait a minute. Did you say you dated this guy?”
Rebecca picked up her glass and drank before answering. “Yeah, we dated for two years. He was at the house all the time. Don’t you remember him?”
The Ex's Confession Page 33
