by Sophie Oak
A cold feeling stole over him that had nothing to do with the temperature. “The Russian mob? What is Taggart worried about?”
“Yes, that’s what he found out. Big Tag didn’t like how things went down so he pushed the investigation a bit. But I don’t think it has anything to do with Jennifer. Renard did odd jobs for the mob, but he was specifically involved with something called the Pushkin Syndicate. The Russians have started to make a fortune selling masterpieces lost during World War II. They turn up now, and the mob is selling them on the black market for extravagant sums. Apparently Renard served as a go-between. Guess he screwed up somewhere. I’ll send you a copy of the report. Taggart is an expert on the Russian mafia, it turns out.” Finn sounded confident, even as Stef felt his stomach doing a triple loop dive straight to his feet. “And tell Jennifer that while going through Renard’s records, we found an order for one of her paintings. Renard was holding it for a buyer. It looks like she’s doing well. Twenty-five-thousand dollars is a lot for a new artist. Maybe she can still talk to the buyer, now that she’s out of this mess.”
But she wasn’t. Oh, she wasn’t even close to being out of it. Taggart had been right to not stop. This had never been about the damn Picasso. It was about the very paintings he himself had brought with them, the ones Jennifer had put in the auction. She was right in the middle, and she didn’t even know why or what they were really coming after her for, though Stef had a horrible idea. “What else was Taggart worried about? She’s never gotten that much for a painting, Finn. I bought the others.”
Finn paused as though realizing something was wrong. “Shit. Uhm, Big Tag said he didn’t like the fact that apparently Dimitri Pushkin left Moscow yesterday morning. He took a private plane, but Big Tag has some sources who can check passport records. He landed in Denver late last night. Do you think…”
He shoved the phone into his jeans. Without pausing to say good-bye to Max and Rye, he took off running for the diner. He had to find her and find that painting.
* * * *
Jen sniffled and dragged great breaths of air into her lungs as she sat in a booth at the diner.
“Asshole.” Rachel slapped at the table in a much-appreciated show of female solidarity. Rachel had shown up at Callie’s cabin just as Jen and Callie had gotten back from Stef’s. The women had commiserated with her before Rachel announced she needed breakfast.
“He’s my best friend, but I’m with you on this one, Rach. Asshole.” Callie’s sweet voice always sounded odd when she cursed.
“Fucking asshole.” Zane’s did not. Zane sounded perfectly comfortable calling Stef all sorts of vulgar names. His huge frame dominated the booth at Stella’s.
She felt stupid. Here she was crying in the middle of a diner. She’d managed to hold on to her self-esteem for a little while. She’d gotten to Callie’s. She’d moved her pitiful belongings into the loft, climbing up the ladder into Callie’s childhood room. There was a mattress on the floor and a small dresser. She’d sat on the cot and stared out at the mountain knowing Stef was sitting in his place. She’d sat there for an hour wondering if he even noticed she was gone.
Why did she have to love an idiot?
“It’s not working,” Zane whispered to his wife. “You said it would work. I think she’s still broken.”
“I am not broken.” She frowned at Zane. He sat looking so manly and hunky hot. Now he was madly in love with his wife, but he and Nate had put Callie through the ringer once, too. It was just what men did. “And you’re an asshole, too.”
Zane’s handsome face lit with surprise. He stared at Jen openmouthed before turning back to his wife, obviously seeking wisdom. “Why am I an asshole? I drove you to pick her up. I cleaned out the loft so she would have a place to not be homeless in.”
Jen sniffed, a nasty feeling in her gut. She didn’t particularly want to have anything to do with men right now. It didn’t matter how nice he’d been to her. “Do you have a penis?”
Zane stared at her like he suspected the question was a trap. “Last time I checked.”
“Then you’re an asshole.” She couldn’t help it. She picked up her napkin as a sob escaped. God, she ached. It was a real, physical pain.
Rachel’s hand came out, patting Jen’s back. “Let it out, sweetie. Don’t hold back just because one of them is around.”
“One of them?” Zane asked, clearly confused at his persona-non-grata status.
Callie sighed. “Yes, baby. You have a penis. That makes you the enemy right now. Jen just broke up with the love of her life. Do you really think she wants to be comforted by you?”
“Max heard Jen broke up with Stef. Did you see how he treated her? He tipped his hat and ran the other way,” Rachel explained as she wolfed down her pancakes. “Rye wouldn’t even get out of the truck until she’d walked on by.”
“I couldn’t leave Callie,” Zane explained. “I haven’t trained an overgrown dog to follow her around.”
Q’s head came up over the table. His tongue came out as he looked at Rachel’s plate. She patted his head to settle him back down.
“Don’t you dare,” Callie said.
Jen listened to her friends. They were trying to be helpful. They were trying to be supportive, but they had families and futures. Rachel was just about to give birth, and Callie had announced she was pregnant like five minutes ago. Jen wasn’t anywhere close to being ready for a baby, but she knew damn well she wouldn’t want any baby but Stef’s.
She wasn’t going to have a family. She looked at big, gorgeous Zane, who worshipped the ground his wife walked on to such an extent that he was willing to share her with his best friend. Rachel had two husbands. Jen couldn’t even keep one man interested in her. Nate and Zane and Max and Rye wouldn’t let their wives out of their sight, but Stef was willing to send her to France for years.
She couldn’t help it. The tears started again.
Zane’s wide green eyes were huge as he stared at Jen in abject horror. “Oh, wow, just let me kill him. Would that make her stop crying? I can’t stand it.”
Jen growled his way. Her friends were right. She didn’t want to be around men right now. They all sucked. “I want to cry, asshole. You, go away.”
Zane scooted out of the booth after kissing his wife on the forehead. He pointed toward the counter. “I’m going to be right over there, babe. Out of the line of fire.”
He practically ran away.
Callie shook her head before reaching out to her. “I’m sorry. He means well.”
“I know.” Everyone meant well. Stef meant well, at least he thought he did. Meaning well had broken her heart. She could still see his face as he’d worked over her the night before, still feel his arms around her. God, how was she going to get through the rest of her fucking life without him?
“Jen, are you sure about this?” Now that Zane was gone, Rachel had softened, sympathy plain on her face.
“I have to be.” She meant what she said. She couldn’t spend the rest of her life with a man who was waiting for her to leave. “He planned out my whole future and made sure he wasn’t in it. I don’t know if he meant to talk me into leaving or just flat out shove me on a plane.”
“I know.” Callie had heard the whole story told to her in between Jen’s sobs. “But you love him. He doesn’t know what he’s doing. Maybe if you talk to him...”
“And say what?” She’d thought about it, thought about going back to the big house and having it out with him again. “Look, I love him. I think I’m going to love him for the rest of my life, but I kind of love me, too. If I hang around for years and hope that one day he’ll see that I’m worth the risk, I don’t know if I’ll be able to respect myself.”
“She’s right.” Rachel rubbed her hands along her lower back as she spoke. Her back had been bugging her for the whole time they’d been together this morning. “What’s she supposed to do? Put her life on hold because one man is a fool? Oh, I hate this.”
Jen put aside h
er own misery briefly. “What’s wrong?”
Rachel shook her head. “Stupid Braxton-Hicks. I’ve been having them for the last couple of weeks.”
“That’s false labor,” Callie supplied. “A lot of women get it. It prepares you for real labor.”
“It prepares you to want to kill yourself.” Rachel tucked a piece of strawberry blonde hair behind her ear, a grimace of pain flashing across her face. “She’s so bright-eyed about this. I was that way, once, before I gained four hundred pounds, started having to pee every five minutes, and waddled like an overstuffed penguin. And I have two more weeks of this.”
Callie’s face lit up. “And then you’ll have a baby.”
“Yeah,” Rachel replied, her hand going to her stomach.
Stella walked up, coffee pot in hand. She was made up as usual, but there was something a tiny bit duller about her this morning. She’d obviously been crying. After hearing Sebastian’s story, she had to think his being in town had brought up old emotions for Stella. Her heart had broken for the older woman with each word he’d spoken. As she’d stood there listening, she’d heard a bit of her own future in the story. The connection between Stella and herself had been clear. Stella always seemed so alive and happy. What heartache had she harbored all these years? She’d never married. As long as Jen had known her, Stella hadn’t even dated. She’d built her life around this diner and Bliss and raising Stef.
Would that be her life, too? Would she throw herself into her work because she couldn’t have the man she loved? It would be ironic if she ended up with the kind of career Stef wanted for her. And empty, because he wouldn’t be there to share it.
“Do you need some coffee, hon?” Stella asked, her smile not quite reaching her eyes.
“I’ll take some. I’m the only one not on mommy restrictions.” She held her cup out.
“God, I miss coffee.” Rachel leaned over and breathed in the aroma.
“Stella, I thought you were working at the festival today? Aren’t y’all selling lunch for the snowboarding competition?” Callie asked.
Jen hadn’t thought about that. The whole place was being cleared out for the noon start of the finals of the competition. Everyone would be on the mountain watching it. Downtown would be quiet this afternoon. It would be a good time to check out the town hall. There was a bulletin board there with job listings and places to rent.
“I just talked to Zane about the festival,” Stella explained. “He’s going to help out. I’m shorthanded. He’s a good man, your Zane. He’s helping out with the short-order line while Hal makes sandwiches and salads.”
“Ah, learning at the feet of the master,” Callie said with a grin. “Zane doesn’t consider it a favor. He loves it. He’s been taking cooking lessons from Hal. Last week it was something French.”
Zane stepped in beside Stella, a plate in his hand. “Beef bourguignon, babe. And it was a bit salty. I’ll get it right next time. Here’s your bacon, Rachel.”
As Zane slid the plate across the table, Callie’s face went slightly green. Her hand flew up, covering her mouth.
“Oh, I’m going to be sick.” She slid out of her side of the booth and started to sprint for the bathrooms. Zane ran after her, not bothering to stop at the ladies’ room door.
“Yep, she’s pregnant.” Rachel sighed and bit into her bacon. “The smell of bacon gets to some women. Not me. This baby boy likes meat.”
A wistful smile stole across Stella’s face. “Max and Rye were always like that. Their momma would have to fight to get them to eat a vegetable. Not Stef, though. He ate everything I put in front of him.”
Jen felt her eyes tear up. At least Stella had Stef to lavish her love on. She looked up at Stella, wondering if there was still anything left besides bitterness. “Sebastian came back for you.”
Stella’s shoulders squared after a moment of pure surprise. “That’s what he said. But he’s gone through something terrible. Many people make illogical decisions when they think they’re dying.”
Rachel’s head moved back and forth, as though she was watching a tennis match. “Sebastian came back for Stella?”
“He loves you,” Jen said. “He knows it was a mistake to leave.”
“Oh, my god. Stella had an affair with Stef’s dad? Does Callie know? Do I know something before Callie?” Rachel asked.
“You hush,” Stella admonished. “This is old gossip. No one will care about it. I’m surprised Sebastian even talked about it around Jen.”
“He didn’t know I was there. He was telling Stef.”
Stella blanched. “He told Stef we had an affair?”
“Yes,” Jen said. “He told Stef that the worst mistake he ever made was walking away from you.”
“It was.” Sebastian’s voice carried across the diner. Jen turned, and he was standing there in the aisle, hat in his hand. “It was the stupidest thing I ever did because I threw away the love of my life. I thought of you every day. You were my first thought in the morning and the face I pictured in my mind before I went to sleep at night. When I was in chemo, I sat in the chair and I pretended to hold your hand. I pretended you were there. I told myself that if I lived, I would come for you. I would come into this diner and sit here until I made you understand how much I love you.”
Tears streaked down Stella’s face, but she held her head high. “You might have pictured my face, but that isn’t the face I have now, Sebastian. I’m an old woman now. That time is long past.”
“Then I’ll start a new time,” he said, nodding resolutely. “And you aren’t old, Stella. Never. You’re still the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”
“I don’t know if I can forgive you,” Stella said, her hand clutching the coffeepot like a shield.
Sebastian’s eyes studied her, and his lips curled up in a sad smile. “Well, I’ll wait until you decide. I’ll wait a day, or a month, or a year. I’ll sit at the counter and hope you smile at me. I’ll make a life in Bliss so I can be part of your world. I’ll wait as long as it takes, and if it takes longer than this life, then you should know, Stella Benoit, that I’ll wait in the afterlife, too. I’ll wait forever.”
She set the coffeepot on the table. It clattered, utterly forgotten and useless because Stella was walking toward him.
“You better not change your mind, old man,” she said as she walked into his arms.
“Never,” he said, pulling her close. He buried his face in her hair, his arms closing around her, knitting them together.
“That was so beautiful,” Rachel said, turning to Jen. Her face was bright red, and tears poured from her eyes.
Jen felt her own tears as she put an arm around her friend and let her cry.
It had been beautiful.
“I can’t do it,” Jen whispered, more to herself than anyone else.
Rachel smiled through her tears. “Of course, you can’t.”
She looked down, startled. “How do you know what I’m talking about?”
“I’ve been where you are. I know what you’re thinking. You can’t stand by and let him go. You have to fight. This isn’t something you can let slide. He’s your man. You fight for him. If you have even the smallest doubt in your head that this isn’t over, then you go after him with everything you have. I never thought you were going to give up.”
“Even when I ran away?” Jen asked, a light feeling stealing over her. She could still fight. If Sebastian could come to his senses after all these years, then Stef could, too. Not that she planned on letting nearly thirty years go by. His skull was going to soften up more quickly than his father’s.
“Yes,” Rachel said. “I knew you would come back. Tell me you hadn’t thought about it.”
She’d dreamed about it every night. If things hadn’t gone horribly wrong, she would have been home by summer. The day before she’d been arrested, she’d sat down and written a long e-mail to Callie. She hadn’t sent it, but she’d saved it. Eventually she would have sent it, and Callie would have
replied, and she would have allowed herself to be “talked into” coming back. “I would have come back. I love him. I love him so much.”
“I know. It’ll work out, Jen. You’ll see.” Rachel wiped her eyes with her napkin. She turned in her seat to face the newly happy couple. “Hey, Stella, why don’t you call someone in so you can take the afternoon off?”
Stella’s face was vibrant as she faced Rachel. Sebastian’s arms were around her, and she threaded her fingers with his as though she couldn’t stand the thought of losing contact. “I have Holly. She can handle this crowd. I’ll head out when she gets back.”
The mention of that particular name reminded her she had to deal with the painting. “Holly’s back?”
Stella nodded. “Yeah, she came in this morning. She wasn’t scheduled, but you know her, she’s always looking to take an extra shift. She has to pay that greedy ex of hers, or she never gets to see her kid.”
Rachel was already moving. “Where is she? Does she know Nate’s been looking for her?”
“No,” Stella replied. “But I sent her to the Sheriff’s Office. Maybe that’s why she’s taking so long.”
Jen scooted out of the bench, following Rachel. It would be such a huge relief to get that damn painting back. Then she could concentrate on convincing Stef to give them a real shot. “Thanks. I’ll send Holly back as soon as I’m done talking to her.”
“I’m coming with you.” Rachel grabbed her purse. “Don’t you leave me behind. You’ll be surprised how fast I can waddle.”
Jen took her hand. “No, I wouldn’t. I’ve seen you go after Max when he’s obnoxious. Come on then. Let’s find that stupid painting, and then I can find Stef.”
It was a short trip from the diner to the Sheriff’s Office, just three buildings in between and a hop over the street. The Sheriff’s Office was housed in a small building off Main Street. Rachel walked behind her, only slowing her down a bit. The air was brisk, and the snow was falling lightly. The crowds had thinned out after the early morning rush. They would be on the mountain where the day’s competition was getting started. It made the streets of Bliss nice and quiet. Only the park would be bustling at this point. The rest of Bliss was a bit of a ghost town. She made it to the front of the office first and pulled on the outer door. It was locked. She banged on it.
