The Promise

by JM Dragon

  “No.”

  “I’ll retire to the kitchen, and perhaps you can let me know when you want dinner.”

  “I don’t want dinner here. Racheal, as you came this far, the least I can do is buy you dinner. Come on, you can drive.” Claire grabbed Racheal’s arm and dragged her out the front door.

  Shirley watched in amazement and shook her head after the door shut behind them.

  “This is not going to work out well. I just know it in my bones.” She retreated to the security of her kitchen and heard the throaty engine of the vehicle as it headed out of the driveway.

  †

  Kris placed a hand on her stomach and grinned. The pork belly was to die for, and if she did die now she would go out satisfied. She let out a slow sigh and grinned as Jess made her way to the piano to begin another set. So far, it had been a wonderful evening. The meal was superb and the conversation friendly rather than intimate. Works for me, I think.

  Then she heard a voice she thought she recognized and turned. Sure enough, the woman she’d met on the beach her first day in town sat opposite her. What was her name, now?

  Then pale brown eyes stared at her, and the infectious smile that had greeted her that day flashed over full lips again. Mortified at being caught staring, Kris looked away but not quick enough to deter the woman she now recalled as Fern Delancy from speaking.

  “Hi, are you alone?”

  Kris wanted nothing more than the floor to swallow her whole, but instead she managed a tight smile and shook her head.

  Fern laughed delicately. Though most would have considered it sexy, Kris didn’t. She focused on Fern’s dinner guest. The woman, who was definitely younger than Fern by at least ten years if not more, was oblivious to the conversation. Her attention was on the phone in her hand as her fingers dexterously danced over the screen.

  “Has your friend gone to the bathroom?” Fern asked insistently.

  “No, actually she’s working.” Kris turned her gaze to the small stage, where Jess was finishing a song. “Jess is my date.”

  Fern gave her a narrow-eyed look and then nodded. “Really? I didn’t think you’d be her type, or you hers.”

  Embarrassed at the remark, Kris wanted to shoot under the table. Then her inner bravado kicked in. Who gave this woman any right to say such a thing? She might look beautiful, but her manners needed work big-time. “What makes you a judge of who is her type, or mine for that matter? I find your remark offensive.” She turned away and focused on Jess.

  “Sorry, let me apologize properly. Why don’t you join us until Jess finishes her set and have dinner with us? My treat. What do you say?”

  Kris shook her head. “We’ve had dinner.”

  “Yeah, sure, that would be right. I should have realized. Still, you could have company until she’s done. What do you say? I need to make amends for my obnoxious remarks. Champagne works, I find, to lighten the load a little.”

  “Champagne? I thought you wanted a low-key evening. I’m up for that, darling.” The nasal reply from the other woman at the table caught Kris, and she was certain Fern, off guard.

  “Yeah, sure, whatever, Rianne. Get back to Candy Crush.” Fern pierced Kris with an apologetic look. “Please.”

  “Okay, but only until Jess is finished.”

  “Great. Please come sit by me. We can talk.”

  Kris looked at the woman called Rianne, who barely noticed the new addition with her gaze concentrating on the tiny screen in her hand.

  “Ah, Candy Crush.”

  Fern laughed this time, and it appeared genuine.

  “Yeah, one of those silly, addictive games that has millions in its clutches. I bet the developers are zillionaires by now. I wish I had one share in that company. I’d be rich,” Fern said.

  They both laughed, and Kris felt easier about sitting with Fern. Besides, she’d never had champagne before.

  “Ordering champagne means you must be wealthy…at least in my book. What exactly do you do?”

  Fern flexed her fingers, looked at the well-manicured nails, and smiled. “I thought I told you that I own Curiosity, a local bar. I know you haven’t been there. I’d have known.”

  Kris frowned, then nodded. “You mentioned you’d been there, not that you owned it. How is business?” Her gaze drifted to the blonde across from her, and she wondered why anyone would go to dinner with someone who was ignoring them.

  “You need to come by one evening. Bring Jess, or better yet, come on your own. I can for certain say you will have a good time.”

  Kris frowned. Then Fern waved over a waiter and ordered the best champagne in the house cellar.

  “Champagne is champagne, right?” Kris asked.

  Fern shook her head. “My dear, absolutely not. There are so many derivations of champagne. Some are genuine, some not. Don’t be blinded by the price either. That’s a whole other story.”

  Kris laughed. “I should really dislike you, shouldn’t I?”

  Fern winked. “Yes, but I’m always hopeful that people will give me a second chance. Have I got that second chance from you?”

  “Maybe.” Kris glanced at the stage and Jess, who was looking in the direction of their now-empty table with a smile, and she felt terrible.

  “I need to return to my table. Jess—”

  Fern placed a hand on her arm, preventing her from leaving. “Hey, Jess will be cool, trust me. Besides, you’re not the only one in the room who isn’t looking at her. Stay, please.”

  Kris sucked in her lower lip. You are obviously not very observant. “Okay, but only until Jess finishes this set.”

  “Excellent, and right on the mark, our champagne has arrived.”

  †

  “Stop here,” Claire stated.

  Wheels screeched to a halt at the curbside.

  “A bar? I thought we were going out to dinner,” Racheal demanded.

  “We are. This, according to the local paper, is a great place to eat and be discreet. Let’s go.” Claire flung her door open and climbed out.

  A minute later, Racheal stood next to her. “Why do we need discreet?”

  “You might not, but I do. Have you looked at me lately? I’m not exactly the poster child for any establishment. I’ll find us a table and you can order our drinks. I’ll have a bourbon,” Claire snarled and then entered the bar.

  Five minutes later, Racheal set the drinks down and sat. “I said we wanted to eat, and they will send over a server to take our orders. This place is packed, Claire. Why don’t we go somewhere else? We need to talk.” She sank into the leather upholstery. “Hmm, at least the seating is comfortable.”

  “Yeah, yeah, and yeah,” Claire muttered and grabbed her drink and drank it down in one gulp.

  “Oh, so we are thirsty too. You could have said. I’d have bought you more.”

  Claire drew back her head and stared at Racheal. “Why are you here, Racheal? Really.”

  Racheal shuffled the coaster that came with her drink and sighed heavily. “It isn’t the same without you. I know you’ll think that stupid coming from me, but I actually think I loved you…no, do still love you. As well as I can. There isn’t anyone that can replace you.”

  Claire digested the information and the server appeared with the dinner menu. They ordered more drinks and Claire told the server to keep them coming when they were empty. “It’s been almost two years, Racheal, and you say this now. Look at me. I haven’t had the surgery. I’m as useless and ugly as you once called me. What benefit are you going to gain from me being on your arm in our old haunts?”

  Racheal sipped on her water and then clasped her glass. “We were going to be married. You made the mistake of taking that drug whore to bed. It isn’t my fault you are the way you are…it’s hers and yours. We could make it work, Claire. You just have to see that. Is living in your apartment or here alone what you want for the rest of your life? Don’t you remember the good times we had together?”

  Claire drew in a huge breath that
was so big she almost choked on it. “If I could change that night, I would, Racheal, in more ways than you will ever know. Except I can’t. What’s done is done, and I will pay for it the rest of my life. You have spent two years avoiding me and what happened. I understand that, but….”

  “But?”

  Claire shrugged and took Racheal’s hand. “Coming here now and asking us to go back to how things were can never happen. Seriously, look at me. I know in a few weeks you’ll go back to what you thought before—the abhorrence of it all.”

  “Well actually, do you remember Binky and his brother?”

  “Binky, the bouncer at the club? Sure.” Claire frowned. “His brother? I never met him that I recall.”

  “Yeah, I guess you wouldn’t. Well, he’s a plastic surgeon and he can help. He really can, Claire.”

  Claire dropped her gaze and sucked in a huge breath. “Racheal, I chose to remain this way. My parents are annoyed as hell. They had the best plastic surgeon in New York set to work on me, and I refused. Other than having me committed as insane and taking over my rights, they couldn’t do anything about that.”

  Racheal’s eyes flared. “Why?”

  “Altruistically, I realized without something to remind me of the event, I would be that same selfish individual.”

  Racheal shook her head. “What about the arm? It isn’t strong enough to do much; couldn’t that be the reminder?”

  Claire considered the argument for all of a few seconds. “I want people to know me for me, not my perceived beauty. Does that make sense?” The server arrived. “Let’s order dinner.” She flicked her finger at the special of the day and then fumbled with the menu as it dropped from her hand.

  “I’ll take that.” The blonde server smiled warmly and took it from Claire’s unprotesting fingers.

  Maybe I’m making a mistake hiding myself away. Her thoughts drifted to Kris, and she wondered how her evening was going.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Jess wandered over to the table where she had shared dinner with Kris. She figured the evening had gone well and hopefully it would continue if Kris hadn’t become bored. Within ten feet of the table, a hand settled on her arm.

  “Jess, my dear, your dinner partner is sipping champagne at my table. I’m sure you could do with a glass or two yourself. You were, as always, wonderful.”

  Jess recognized Fern’s voice and remained still. Kris must have looked fed up, and as always Fern stepped in to save a damsel in distress. Then again, distress or not, Fern would have interfered.

  “Thank you for taking care of my date.” Her lips pursed as she reluctantly allowed Fern to lead her to the table.

  “Jess, you were wonderful,” Kris gushed.

  Jess felt like a lead weight had lifted from her chest. Kris’s tone indicated she enjoyed the set. She grasped the seat and sat. “Glad you liked it. I was hoping you weren’t bored or lonely.”

  “Far from it. I could listen to you for hours.”

  Jess nodded and then felt a tall, stemmed glass pressed into her hand. Her fingers traveled over it. A champagne flute. Fern always had expensive tastes. She mentally shook her memories of Fern away, lifted the glass, and sipped. The bubbles were certainly an acquired taste. One, thankfully, she didn’t possess.

  “I’m sorry, but you haven’t mentioned your guest.” She had picked up the clicking sound of fingers next to her.

  Fern laughed. “Sorry, Jessie, I forget your affliction at times. You really don’t look like you are blind. Silly me to forget about Rianne. Jess, meet my dinner date, Rianne. Rianne, put that damned phone down and be sociable for once.”

  Fern sounded pissed at her date. Maybe I like this Rianne even though I don’t know her.

  “I’m at level 310 and it’s way hard. Damn, I’ve lost another life. Hi.”

  Jess pursed her lips to prevent smiling at the petulant child, which the woman sounded like. With Fern’s background, she wouldn’t be surprised if Rianne were just out of college.

  “Hi, Rianne, I’m Jess. You probably didn’t notice, but I was the entertainment this evening.”

  A grunt was the reply, and Jess smiled. “Level 310 wouldn’t be Candy Crush by any chance, would it?”

  “Why yes it would. Do you play?” Rianne responded immediately.

  “Not exactly, but I vicariously play via my eldest niece, who is addicted. When you get to level 325, get ready to be really frustrated. I can give you a great website for cheating on the game if you want.”

  “Really?”

  Jess wanted to laugh. Wow, the modern way to turn on a woman. Whatever happened to good old-fashioned romance?

  “I’m on level 200. I guess I’d better ask for cheats from both of you.” Kris chuckled.

  Jess laughed. “Sounds like a plan to me. Kris, do you want to go out for a breath of fresh air?”

  “Oh, why don’t we all go,” Fern said.

  Rianne replied, “Let them go, Fern, they are on a date. Go, you two, and I’ll hold you to the cheat website addy.”

  “Sure thing.” Jess stood, listening intently for Kris to do the same.

  “Thanks for the champagne, Fern, it was lovely.” Kris moved to stand next to Jess and took her hand.

  “Yeah, thanks, Fern. See you both later.”

  Jess squeezed Kris’s hand, and they headed toward the exit to the garden area.

  †

  Racheal gazed at Claire, who was shredding the paper napkin that had enclosed the cutlery, her gaze pinned on the bar. She took in her posture, which seemed relaxed except for the finger action that sent erotic memories through her that she tamped down. Claire was right in some ways. Her scars and physical disability had been a problem. In fact, had she come out of the accident relatively injury free, they would probably be married by now. They both had had other lovers and probably would still be having them.

  I do love you, Claire, that’s the truth, but you need to have the surgery on your face. The other I can live with. Hell, it only takes one hand to take me, not two.

  “What’s so funny?”

  “Sorry, Claire, I was reminiscing about us. We did have fun, didn’t we, really?”

  Claire shrugged. “Yes, we had fun, but it wasn’t love.”

  Racheal sat back in her chair and stared at Claire. Not love? “I don’t understand. You always said you loved me. Is it because of the injuries or my reaction to them? I apologize. I do, big-time, Claire. Tell me what you want and I’ll do it, I promise.”

  “From you, nothing. I know what I want now out of life. Coming here with you made me see how simple it was. I’m sorry, Racheal, it’s over for good.”

  “Why do you say that? Have you found someone else?” Racheal scrambled around in her memory for anyone who could make Claire change her mind. The old housekeeper? Not even Claire is that desperate.

  Claire stared intently at her. “Racheal, I will always love you. We had so many years together. Now I understand what my grandmother was saying when she asked me here. We can be friends, and we should. I’d like that. We have so much history, but lovers, no, not anymore.”

  Closing her eyes and rubbing the bridge of her nose, Racheal couldn’t believe what she was hearing. This should have been a piece of cake. Not many would give Claire the chance she was offering. What is wrong with her? Did she scramble what little common sense she had in that damn accident along with her memory? “I don’t know what to say.” The words echoed hollowly around them, and Claire smiled slowly. It was a gentle smile, almost regretful.

  Claire reached her good hand across the table and took Racheal’s lifeless one in a firm grip. “Don’t say anything. Let’s just enjoy dinner together one last time.”

  That sentence was like a death knell to Racheal and her chance of having Claire back in her life. A part of her was relieved. The prospect of having a disabled partner had never sat well with her from the start. However, the social contacts Claire had and still would if she reached out to old friends were worth putting up
with that part. Now their relationship was in shreds and she didn’t have a clue what she’d done wrong.

  “Yes, let’s. I see our meal is about to arrive,” she said as steaming pots of mussels were placed on the table.

  †

  Kris still held Jess’s hand, or was it the other way around? Who knew? She only knew Jess was incredibly quiet and that was probably her fault. “Jess, I’m sorry I deserted our table, but Fern was insistent.”

  Jess stiffened. “Yes, she’s always been that. Have you met her before? I noticed she was familiar with you.”

  Kris bit her bottom lip. She had mentioned meeting Fern before, but then again perhaps she had forgotten to say the actual name.

  “I met her on the beach the day I arrived. I thought I told you, but I may have forgotten.”

  “Forgotten? How could you forget Fern? She wouldn’t take kindly to you saying that.” Jess lips contorted as she spoke.

  “Perhaps because she wasn’t important to me.” Kris paused and watched Jess’s strained features as she grimaced. “Do you have history with her?”

  Jess flashed her a grim look. “Why do you ask?”

  The electricity in the air was coming from Jess and not any weather front. Obviously, she had, and it must still hurt.

  “No reason. When do you have to go back on stage?” Kris asked quietly and moved her gaze to the stars that even with the lights of the buildings around them made a sparkling blanket of the night sky.

  “I get a half hour break. What time is it?”

  “Almost nine.”

  Jess squeezed her hand tightly and then turned to place her body in front of Kris. “I’m sorry, Kris, call it a touch of green-eyed envy. Look, I’ll be finished at ten. They put on karaoke for the late night revelers. Will you stay and we can spend the rest of the evening together?”

  Kris had never experienced this kind of emotional bouncing around before. Her romantic trysts had been rare, and then that was as a teenager. Now in her thirties, she had no reference for what was happening around her. What would Claire do?