Until Dawn

by Melinda Di Lorenzo

  Shit on toast.

  Hadn’t I still had a final call to make?

  I didn’t realize I’d asked the question aloud until Julie answered it.

  “Sort of,” she stated. “The lawyer said that the last offer you made had your preapproval.”

  “Cho rejected that offer,” I muttered.

  “He changed his mind,” Julie replied. “Mr. Burke, I hate to ask this again…but are you okay?”

  “Fine. But I’ve gotta go.”

  There was a pause. “Should we expect you back before the weekend’s over?”

  “I’m afraid not. I’ve got a wedding to crash.” And I hung up before she could question my sanity.

  * * * *

  Mia

  I couldn’t say that I managed to completely erase Ethan from my mind. But I could say that I managed to fold him up, shove him into a box, duct tape the lid shut, then move him and his boxed-up self to the back of my mind. It helped that all the last-minute plans for Marc and Aysia’s wedding were now in full swing. It helped even more that I’d moved in temporarily with Liv, and she didn’t give me a spare moment to think about anything but fluffy dresses and winged eyeliner.

  I left my phone off. I didn’t check emails or voicemails or sneak a peek at my social media. I knew I’d have to deal with my new “landlord” eventually, but it could definitely wait until Monday. Then I’d begin my relocation search. Because no way in hell was I letting Ethan use this little trick to win.

  It was bad enough that coming into my own store—where I’d stupidly left the jewelry for the wedding party—made me feel like a thief. I’d actually had to talk myself into coming in to get it. I’d avoided talking to the staff as I breezed through and made my way upstairs. But now that I had the little velvet bags in my hand, I didn’t seem to be able to move. I’d been standing with the jewelry clutched in my fingers for a good five minutes, watching the rain pelt the window across from my desk. I wanted the bad weather to end in time for my brother’s wedding, but right now, the premature darkness and soggy sky suited my state of mind perfectly.

  This is still your office. Still your view, and still your store. He might own the building, but he doesn’t own you.

  The affirmation should’ve been reassuring. But right then, it made my throat scratch unpleasantly. Because in spite of Ethan’s underhanded dealings, and in spite the mental box where he currently resided, I couldn’t change the fact that he’d gotten under my skin. I couldn’t stop myself from wishing more than a little that it hadn’t been a game for him. And it kind of broke my heart.

  Kind of?

  I swallowed and stared at the storm, willing it to wash away the thick, terrible feeling in my rib cage. It wasn’t fair that it hurt like it did. It wasn’t fair that I couldn’t lash out. And it really wasn’t fair that the reason behind that was I was too scared to face him because I didn’t trust myself to be near him.

  I was furious at Ethan. But I was way angrier with myself.

  So much for keeping him in the box.

  I took a breath and slammed the desk drawer shut. So long as I didn’t have to see him, I’d be fine. And I was sure that once he got my message—his office assistant sounded more than competent enough to give it to him—he’d figure out that I knew what he’d done. He wouldn’t have to keep up the ruse any longer, and I’d be able to breathe again.

  But right that second, I had a rehearsal dinner to get to. To get through.

  I fixed a somewhat plastic smile on my face, stepped down the stairs, waved to the two girls working in the store, then pushed the door. Before I could even get it all the way open, a gust of wind blew it straight out of my hands and slammed it to the building so hard that I was surprised it didn’t shatter. I had to grab it and force it shut. And I got soaked immediately. The rain wasn’t just coming down now. It was hammering from the sky, and somewhere overhead, thunder rolled ominously. Even though it was only five in the evening, it looked like midnight.

  “Great,” I muttered, squinting through the sheets of rain toward the street in search of my taxi.

  I’d asked the cab driver to come back in ten minutes, but I couldn’t see him yet. I was about to give up and wait inside when the familiar yellow car rounded the corner. He pulled up right in front of me, and I didn’t wait for him to get out and help me with the door. I climbed right in, wiping the rain from my face and pulling a compact mirror from my purse as I settled into the seat.

  “We should probably hurry,” I said breathlessly. “I think taking the side roads through the Brampton subdivision will save about five minutes.”

  I flicked open the little mirror and examined my face. Aside from a tiny bit of smudged mascara, my makeup remained intact. I ran the edge of the tissue over the corner of my eye, expecting the car to start moving. But we just stayed where we were.

  “We really should go,” I stated as I wiped away the last hint of wayward mascara. “I have somewhere to be in a little under an hour, and I’d prefer to be on the early side.”

  We still didn’t budge.

  Mildly annoyed, I lowered the compact. Surprise immediately overrode my irritation. The keys were in the ignition and the meter was running. The cabbie sat in his seat, his head tilted my way, his mouth open and his brows pressed together like he didn’t quite know why I was there.

  “Hey. Um. What’s the hold—” My words cut off as a familiar voice carried from the other side of the backseat and clued me in too late to the fact that I wasn’t actually alone.

  “You trying to steal my cab?”

  Ethan.

  His tone was teasing, but strained too.

  I turned. Slowly. Full of dread and terrible, hopeful anticipation. And seeing him hit me with about as much force as I expected. His dark eyes and stubble-covered jaw took my breath away. Unwanted, unwelcome heat licked through me. It felt like a lifetime since I’d seen him, and it’d barely been a day and a half. And in spite of everything—in spite of what he’d done and continued to attempt to do—my treacherous body wanted to pull itself closer to him. I actually had to grip the seat beneath me to keep from inching over.

  “Well?” Ethan prodded.

  “Um.” It was all I could manage to get out.

  “My cab,” he repeated slowly. “Is this an attempted theft?”

  “I…” My gaze accidentally landed on his lips, distracting me.

  C’mon, Mia. Have some self-respect.

  I cleared my throat and tried to make myself sound more like my normal, articulate self. Infused with cool indifference, of course.

  “No,” I said. “I’m not trying to steal your cab. In fact, if you’re still using it, I’ll get out.”

  I started to move toward the door, but his hand came out and landed on my wrist. “There’s no reason we can’t share.”

  “There are probably a hundred reasons we shouldn’t share,” I replied. “But the only one that matters right now is that this discussion is going to make me late.”

  Ethan flicked his attention to the cabbie and issued a nod. “Go ahead. I believe the Regent Inn is the destination.”

  My mouth worked wordlessly for a second, and the driver clearly took my silence as agreement, because he settled into his seat, then pulled the car on to the road.

  “I’d prefer to be on my own,” I stated stiffly.

  “But stopping and getting another cab would add time,” he replied. “And like you said a second ago, you don’t want to be late.”

  I glared at him, hating that any argument I made would come across as petulant. I fixed my gaze straight ahead instead. But Ethan wasn’t going to let things go quite so easily.

  “We have unfinished business, Lu,” he told me in a low voice.

  I refused to turn his way. “You’re wrong. We have no business, Ethan.”

  “We both know that’s not true,�
� he replied. “At the very least, you owe me a brief conversation.”

  “I owe you nothing.”

  “I just want to talk. To explain.”

  “Less than nothing.”

  “In private,” he said.

  “That’s never going to happen.” I made sure my reply was icy.

  “Lu.”

  My temper flared. “You are so damned entitled, aren’t you? You think the whole world owes you something. You want to have a conversation? Fine! Acknowledge that you’re selfish, self-centered, egotistical bastard of a man, and maybe I’ll consider talking to you for the five seconds it’s going to take our driver to find a safe place to pull over.”

  His head swiveled away from mine, and his jaw went so rigid that it looked like it might hurt. Or shatter, if it got bumped. And in spite of the way I willed myself not to, I felt bad for lashing out. I wanted to reach over. To apologize, for crying out loud.

  Dammit.

  Feeling sorry for the asshole was most definitely not on the agenda.

  I dropped my gaze to my lap just for the sake of not having to see him suffer, and I did my best to keep my eyes pointed downward for the rest of the ride.

  I wished desperately that I could rewind the last few days and start them over. Undo the dare. Forget that his mouth had been so perfectly firm and tasted like heaven.

  I couldn’t stop my gaze from drifting back to him. My head was bursting with questions.

  Why was he still in town?

  Why was he in the cab outside my store?

  Why, in God’s name, did he want to talk to me in private?

  You have what you want, I thought. You own my building. What more do you need?

  I snuck yet another glance at his face. Still stiff. Still pained. Why? I took a breath. I opened my mouth ask. But the sudden jerk of the car as its tires screeched to a halt cut me off.

  Chapter 19

  Ethan

  My arm shot out automatically to protect Mia from slamming forward, and I tossed a furious look toward the driver for his reckless stop. But the curse I had ready for him never made it out. The chaos outside the front windshield was more than enough of an excuse for the hard braking.

  One of the wide, tall trees that lined the road sat at a crazy angle, its trunk shattered near its base, the length of it blocking passage. The entire street ahead was shrouded in darkness, all the lamp standards black, all the businesses an inky blur. Two police cars and a fire truck sat in silence, their lights flashing and their occupants in the street directing people around the destruction. At the very end of the block, the Regent Inn had somehow managed to maintain its power, and it glowed cheerily.

  The taxi’s radio squawked to life, and a woman’s voice crackled through. “Hey, uh, Jeff? If you’re still en route to the hotel, you might wanna rethink it. Just got word that there’s a downed tree blocking access.”

  The driver—Jeff—thanked the dispatcher for the belated warning, then turned to us. “Guess you folks need to rethink your destination.”

  Mia shook her head. “I can’t rethink it. Bridesmaid duty doesn’t end because of a fallen tree. I’ll sneak around on foot.”

  The cabbie sighed like it was a personal offence. “I won’t be able to give you service to the front door.”

  “I think we can manage,” I interjected.

  “We?” Mia repeated.

  “I’ve got a room booked,” I told her.

  “For the love of Pete. Why?”

  “I said I wanted to talk.”

  “And I said no.”

  “Which is why I took the liberty of booking the room.”

  “So you’re stalking me? Again?”

  The cabbie cleared his throat. “Do you need some help, ma’am?”

  “I’m fine. He might be a thief, but he’s not as tough as he thinks he is.” She glared at me, then reached for her purse. “How much is the fare?”

  “Not necessary,” I told her.

  “I’m not taking your money,” she snapped.

  “You’re not,” I agreed. “But the driver is. I’ve already given him my credit card info.”

  For a second, she looked like she might argue, but she just shook her head, then swung open the door and slid out, pausing just long enough to say, “It still doesn’t mean I owe you anything.”

  Then she slammed the door hard and turned to battle the rain and the wind at a run. The cabbie stared after her, then raised an eyebrow my way.

  “Must be a hell of a woman,” he said.

  “I think she’s the one.” The words were out before I could stop them, but as soon as I’d said them, I realized just how much truth they held, and I smiled. “Now all I have to do is convince her of that. Pop the trunk so I can get my bag?”

  “You got it. Good luck, buddy.”

  “Thanks.”

  I pushed my way out, grabbed my suitcase, and squinted into the driving rain. It only took me a second to spot Mia. She’d already made it past the first responders, and she stood near the end of the cracked tree trunk, her tan rain jacket flapping in the wind and her high-heeled shoes clutched in one hand. Her legs—bare and flashing creamily even in the dark—made me want to shiver. Then she looked up, and even though I couldn’t see her expression, I knew what she was planning.

  “Oh no you don’t,” I muttered. “You are not climbing over that thing.”

  Careful to avoid drawing any unwanted attention from the fire fighters and the police, I hurried over the cold, wet ground. The puddle splashed up, soaking the bottoms of my legs, but I cared a hell of a lot less about my own discomfort that I did about the idea of Mia scaling the splinter-laden, broken-leg-waiting-to-happen mess of a tree.

  Thankfully, the universe tossed a little luck in my favor.

  The moment Mia lifted her foot was the moment before I reached her. It was also the moment she slipped. Her arms windmilled, and she tumbled forward. Her hands hit a branch on the tree, which protested against the assault, then bounced back and sent her straight into my outstretched arms. It felt damned good to have her body pressed to mine, even if it was only a matter of necessity. I had to force myself not to tug her even closer.

  “You all right?” I asked as I reluctantly released her.

  She stared up at me, her gaze momentarily unguarded and warm. Like she’d forgotten that she was furious at me. It buoyed my hope. Even when she quickly brushed off her jacket and took a step away. Knowing that the hint of want was there under the surface was enough. My eyes couldn’t help but rake over her. Even sopping wet, with her hair plastered to her face and her makeup starting to run, she was the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen.

  “Lu…” I said. “Can we grab a coffee? Or a glass of wine? Hell. I’d take a water.”

  “For what purpose?” she replied coolly. “So you can tell me you didn’t buy my store out from under me? Because I’d rather not waste time with any more lies.”

  “I want to explain what happened.”

  “So you’re not denying it?”

  “If I did, you’d just call me a liar again, wouldn’t you?”

  “Because you are one!” she snapped.

  “You know that I bought your building,” I replied.

  “No shit.”

  “I’m not lying about it.”

  “Do you think that makes it better?”

  “The truth tends to do that, yes. I bought the building with bad intentions. But I made a mistake.”

  “I—” She looked momentarily confused and a little curious too, but she just shook her head. “No. Save it. There’s really no need for us to talk to each other. The cab ride is over. The hotel is a few hundred feet away. I’ve got things to do, and I’m sure you do too. We can just pretend we’ve never met.”

  “That would be impossible to do.”

 
; “Maybe try banging your head against something hard. I hear that can induce memory loss.”

  She started to spin back toward the tree, but I grabbed her arm and stopped her.

  “Be reasonable, Mia,” I said. “If you try to climb that thing, you’re going to get hurt.”

  “Yeah, well…that’s up to me, isn’t it?” she snapped.

  “Not if you have a death wish it isn’t.” I paused, trying to come up with a way to convince her. “Look. If you won’t do it for your own sake, then at least think of your brother.”

  “My brother?”

  “His wedding photos. I’m sure skinned knees can be digitally erased, but…” I trailed off and shrugged.

  She made an exasperated noise. “Fine. You create a diversion by getting arrested. I’ll walk straight in, and we’ll both get what we want.”

  I bit back an urge to tell her the scenario wasn’t even close to what I wanted, and an even stronger urge to list—in detail—what I did want.

  “Or. We could walk around the death trap, and sneak between that fence and that coffee shop over there.” I nodded to the spot I meant. “And in a minute, we’ll both be inside the warm, dry hotel.”

  She eyed the path in question, pursed her lips, then nodded and started walking. I didn’t have time to be satisfied by the fact that she went along with my plan. The second we crossed onto the Regent Inn’s property, chaos reigned. A throng of people crowded the covered entryway, huddled together in small groups. There were buses and cars parked haphazardly across the space, and a sense of frenzy surrounding the whole area.

  “What the hell’s happening?” I muttered.

  A soaking-wet kid in a hotel uniform paused beside us. “Power’s out at three other hotels. They started busing people in right before that tree came down.”

  “Shit,” I said.

  “Completely,” the kid agreed, then took off again.

  From where I stood, I could see that the inside of the hotel was just as crazy. Dozens of unhappy guests were jammed into the lobby. Hotel employees flitted around frantically. A crowd lined up at the desk. Checking in was going to take an hour.