A Restored Viking: Sveyn & Hollis: Part Two (The Hansen Series - Sveyn & Hollis Book 2)

by Kris Tualla

  One brow lifted. “Local market’s flooded?”

  “Yes.” Hollis winced, afraid to offend but pressing onward nonetheless. “Ezra Kensington collected from all over Europe and America, so now Arizona residents can see things like the signed Jane Austin, or the Viking sunstone, or any number of other objects without having to fly back east, or even Europe, to do so.”

  Benton’s brow smoothed and he drummed his fingers on his desk. “Experience Europe without leaving the Valley…”

  Hollis nodded. “Something like that.”

  “Brilliant.”

  Hollis relaxed. “Really?”

  Mr. Benton nodded. “Almost every museum in Arizona focuses on this region exclusively—our campuses included. To market this particular location as the one museum that stands apart is nothing less than genius.”

  “Thank you, sir.” Hollis rose to her feet. “Is there anything else you needed from me?”

  Benton stood as well. “No. Just keep up the good work.” He dismissed her with a distracted smile.

  Hollis stifled a chuckle as she exited the GM’s office.

  The media whore is at it again.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Hollis stared at the menu. She had no appetite at all with Matt once again sitting across the table from her, but after a decade spent with the man she knew him well enough to know that he would continue to hound her until he got the chance to talk with her. At least Sveyn consented to stay out of her line of sight.

  She finally ended up scanning prices and picking the most expensive thing among those offerings which she felt she could stomach today.

  “I’ll have the salmon Caesar salad and a glass of this Chardonnay.” She pointed to the priciest glass. “Make it the eight-ounce, not the five-ounce, please.”

  Matt lifted one disapproving brow but made no comment. Then he sighed and closed his menu. “I’ll have the same.”

  He waited until the wafer bread and spicy butter was served before starting the conversation. “You seem happy here, Hollis.”

  “I am.” She smiled at the waitress as she served their glasses of wine. “Thank you.”

  “No thoughts of returning to Chicago? Or Milwaukee?”

  Hollis made a face and shuddered. “Do you know how cold it is there? No, I expect to be offered a permanent position here when my contract expires.”

  Matt winced. “Would you accept?”

  “If the offer’s a good one.” She shrugged. “And maybe even if it’s not.” She sipped her wine and steeled herself to jump in. “And how are things with you?”

  “My marriage is a disaster.”

  And there it is.

  Hollis sipped her wine again to keep from laughing. Then she pinned Matt with an accusing gaze.

  “Do you mean to tell me that the enormous and expensive wedding that you had, only one-hundred-and-twenty-seven days after moving out of our apartment, didn’t lead to the eternal bliss that you expected it would?”

  He recoiled. “You counted?”

  Hollis ignored him. “You said you wanted some space to find yourself. How’d that work out?”

  “You sound angry.”

  Hollis glared at him. “Why are you surprised, Matt? After a decade of false promises, followed by you bailing out, did you honestly think I’d be all unicorns and rainbows for you?”

  Matt leaned forward, his beautiful gold-streaked eyes glittering with unshed tears. “Hollis, I was an ass. A selfish, foolish, short-sighted, frightened, pompous ass.”

  Yes. You were.

  “Go on.”

  His brow furrowed. “Go on?”

  “You forgot insecure, domineering, and a really, really bad listener.” She lifted her wine glass. “And cheap. You never would have sprung for eighteen dollars a glass before.”

  Matt looked at his own glass, horrified. “Is that what this costs?”

  “Yes.” Hollis smiled. “And I plan to have two.”

  Matt scrubbed his clean-shaven face with his palms. The voice that emanated from behind his hands sounded hollowed out. “God, Hollis. Can you ever forgive me?”

  “Sure. Why not.”

  Actually, she realized with a start, she could. It would be much easier to let go of her anger and pain, now that she saw him suffering the consequences of his own actions. He ran off with the pretty new rope and hung himself. And he knew it; she didn’t even have to say I told you so.

  Matt’s eyes peeked over his hands. “You forgive me? Really?”

  “Whatever you think of me, I’m not a cruel or vindictive person.” I never actually sent that crate of feral cats to your door, after all.

  Matt’s hands fell to the tabletop. “I never thought that you were, Hollis. I just know how much I hurt you.”

  Something inside her recoiled. She rested her elbows on the table and stared at him. “I didn’t curl up and die, you know.”

  “I didn’t mean that.”

  “What did you mean?”

  “I meant that, well, I made a mistake. A big one.”

  Oh, God. Hollis narrowed her eyes. “What mistake?”

  Matt reached for her hand, but she pulled it back and laid both hands in her lap.

  “What mistake, Matt?”

  “Caesar salad with salmon?” the waitress trilled as she set the big, shallow bowls in front of them. “Would you care for fresh ground pepper or parmesan cheese?”

  Matt spoke first. “No, thank you.”

  “I would like the parmesan, please,” Hollis said quickly before the girl walked away. “No pepper, though.”

  Hollis let the waitress grind more cheese onto her salad than she initially wanted, just because the girl was willing to take Matt’s dismissal as a table-wide decision.

  “Thank you,” she said eventually.

  The waitress gave Hollis a stiff smile and walked away.

  Hollis lifted her fork. The server’s interruption had allowed her to recollect the bits of her composure which were as shredded as the cheese.

  “What were you going to say?”

  Matt picked up his fork as well and began to poke at the grilled salmon steak. “I said I made a mistake. When I broke up with you, it was the stupidest thing I’ve ever done.”

  Hollis’s inner justification meter soared. She shrugged and spoke more casually than she felt. “Hindsight. Twenty-twenty, and all that.”

  She ate a bite of her salad. Delicious.

  “It’s more than that, Hollis.” Matt lifted his eyes to hers again. “I want to know if there’s any hope.”

  She paused, her fork hovering in midair. “Hope for what?”

  “Us.”

  The fork sank back into the salad. “There’s no us, Matt.”

  “There was, once.” He tried to smile. “I’m hoping there could be again.”

  Hollis lifted her wine glass and took a long drink. There was a time she would have jumped at this chance to reunite with him, but not anymore. Too much had happened since she moved to Phoenix for her to want to go back.

  Hollis set the glass down. “You’re married.”

  “I’ll get a divorce.”

  That was an odd way to say it. “What do you mean you will get a divorce?”

  “I mean, if you say yes, I’ll file for divorce,” he said.

  “And if I say no, you’ll stay married?” she accused. “Is that your plan?”

  Matt blanched. “No. Of course not.”

  Something here didn’t make sense. “So why didn’t you file for divorce before you came to Phoenix?”

  “It’s the holiday season.” He waved his as yet unused fork. “I didn’t want to ruin it for Suzan.”

  “Well that’s completely messed up, Matt.” Hollis shook her head. “You still are an ass.”

  “Why?” He looked genuinely confused. “I thought it was nice of me.”

  Hollis drained her wine glass, lifted it, and caught the waitress’s attention. The girl nodded.

  Hollis returned her consideration to Matt
. “So you think it’s acceptable for her to spend a cozy December with you, her husband, celebrating with family and friends at a dozen parties, all of you sharing toasts to the past year and best wishes for the coming year, and then kissing under the mistletoe and on New Year’s Eve at midnight, before you tell her it’s all a sham and you want out?”

  Matt paled. He grabbed his wine glass, still more than half full, and drank it all.

  “Would you care for another Chardonnay as well?” the waitress asked as she set down Hollis’s second glass and collected the empty one.

  “No!” he coughed, handing her his glass. “I’m good.”

  Hollis took a bite of her salad. The conversational ball was in Matt’s court—if he had enough balls to pick it up.

  “When you put it that way,” he managed. “I do sound like an ass.”

  “Yep.” Hollis refilled her fork. “You need to file for divorce when you go back, no matter what my answer is. Suzan deserves that much consideration.”

  “You’re right.” His brow twitched. “But if I had already filed before I came to see you, would you have said yes?”

  Hollis’s heartbeat stuttered. “I don’t know. I don’t think so.”

  “Why not?” Matt demanded. A wave of understanding shifted his expression. “Is there someone else?”

  Hollis was a little offended at his tone. “Would that surprise you?”

  “Oh, uh, no. No!” Matt shook his head. “You’re very dateable.”

  He was just digging another hole, in her opinion. “Dateable, but not marryable?”

  “I didn’t say that,” he groused. “Stop twisting my words.”

  Hollis unclenched her jaw, deciding. “Yes. There is. Someone else, I mean.”

  Matt blinked. “Was he at the opening last night?”

  Tell as much truth as you can.

  Less chance of screwing up that way.

  “Yes.”

  “Did I meet him?”

  Hollis looked at Matt like he was nuts. “How should I know?”

  “What’s his name?”

  Hollis chuckled softly. “Oh, no you don’t.”

  Matt frowned. “What’s wrong?”

  “I’m not going to have you go Google-stalking him.” Good save.

  Matt’s mouth twisted. “How did you meet?”

  That was an easy answer. “We were at a conference together over Labor Day weekend.”

  Matt started playing with his fork. Though Hollis’s salad was half gone, Matt hadn’t eaten a bite. “Is he in the museum business as well, then?”

  “No. Not really.”

  Matt’s brows lifted in question. “Not really?”

  “He’s a history buff. We have that in common.” Another good save.

  Matt was like a pit bull with a rat. “So what does he do?”

  Yikes. How do I make this true? “He’s in trade.”

  “Trade?”

  “International trade. Shipping. He’s a Captain.” From the corner of her eye, Hollis saw Sveyn enter the dining room and walk slowly toward her table. He was looking at her like she had just admitted he actually was a thousand-year-old Viking.

  Matt leaned back in his seat. “Captain of a ship. Living in Phoenix. In a desert.”

  “Right. I see where you’re going with that.” Hollis took a gulp of the expensive white wine.

  Matt screwed up his expression and wagged his head. “Hollis, I’m worried. How much do you really know about this this guy?”

  Time for another tactic. She heaved a sigh of resignation. “Okay, fine. He was a Captain in the Navy. Special Ops. He can’t tell me more than that.”

  Sveyn stood next to Matt. Both men were staring at her with eyes wide under concerned brows.

  “Was?” Matt pressed. “Is he retired?”

  Hollis pointed her index finger in the air. “Yes! A retired Special Ops Navy Captain with a fascination for history. Who sails a trade ship.”

  “And you’re sure about this?”

  Now Hollis looked at Matt like he was the crazy one. “Of course. Why wouldn’t I be?” She forked another bite of salmon into her mouth.

  “What does he look like?”

  Damn pit bull. “Why?”

  Matt shrugged. “I want to see if I remember seeing him there.”

  “Well he’s very handsome. Over six feet tall. He has dark blond hair. Blue eyes.” Hollis shrugged. “Do you remember him?”

  Matt shook his head. “I don’t think so.”

  “Hmm. Too bad. This salad is delicious.” Hollis pointed her fork at Matt’s untouched lunch. “Aren’t you going to eat yours?”

  He ignored the question, looking at her with a troubled expression. “Hollis, I have something to ask you, and I want you to be very honest with me.”

  “Okay.”

  “Does this Navy Captain really exist?”

  Hollis set her fork down. There were two ways she could go with this; scorched earth was her choice.

  “Let me get this straight: you think I made this guy up because I’m so pathetic that only a loser shooting for his second choice would want me?”

  “No!” Matt barked.

  “Do you know anyone in Special Ops, Matt?” she pushed.

  “No, but—”

  “Have you seen a movie? A TV show? Read a book?” Hollis was on a roll. “Special Ops guys are forbidden to talk about anything they do. So obviously I don’t know everything about his past. It’s called national security. Look it up.”

  Matt looked like the cornered weasel that he was. “I’m sorry, Hollis. It’s just that—”

  “It’s just that what? You think that I’ve been pining away for these last two years because you left me, when the truth is that you are the one that has been pining away for me!” Hollis gasped at her own words, her eyes rounding. “That’s true, isn’t it?”

  Matt’s mouth opened and closed like one of those singing trout novelty labels.

  Sveyn’s stance relaxed. “I was worried about where this conversation was going, Hollis, but I do believe you now have him dead to rights.”

  Damn right I do.

  “Are you going to say anything, Matt?”

  Matt signaled for the check. Then he folded his napkin and set it by his untouched salad before his eyes met hers once again.

  “Yes, Hollis. It’s true. I have pined for you ever since my honeymoon.”

  Her jaw dropped. “What?”

  “I should’ve never married Suzan. But her life was so glamorous and so exciting. Traveling first class. Eating at the best restaurants.” Matt heaved a heavy sigh and rubbed his eyes like his head was beginning to pound. “You were always sincere, honest, trustworthy. Down to earth. No pretense.”

  “You make me sound like a faithful dog,” Hollis grumbled.

  If Matt heard her, he ignored the comment. His hands fell away from his rub-reddened eyes. “I should have known better. I mean, really. Who spells Susan with a Z?”

  The waitress brought the check and pointed at Matt’s salad. “Would you like me to box that up for you?”

  “Yes,” Hollis said before Matt declined. “Thank you.”

  Matt pulled out his wallet and put a wad of cash inside the padded black folder. He looked so miserable that Hollis felt like taking care of him. Just like old times.

  “Why didn’t you eat?” she asked gently.

  Matt stood. “I hate salmon.”

  Then he reached for Hollis’s glass of wine and drained it.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Thursday

  December 3

  Hollis looked at the caller ID on her screen then answered the phone. “Hi, Mom.”

  “Hi, sweetie. How has your day been?”

  Hollis smiled. “Well, it’s only noon, but so far so good.”

  Her mom’s frustrated laugh made Hollis chuckle as well. “Oh, dear. I’ll never get this straight.”

  “Just remember that in winter I’m only one hour behind you. The rest of the year it’
s two.”

  “Why doesn’t Arizona do daylight savings time like the rest of the civilized world?” her mom grumbled good-naturedly.

  “If you were here in the summer, you’d know why, Mom. In fact, I think they’d invent daylight ‘spending’ time if they could!” There’s an idea. “So how are things with you?”

  “Well… that’s why I called.”

  Hollis sat up straighter. “Is Dad okay?”

  “Oh, yes! Better than okay, actually.”

  Hollis was literally on the edge of her chair. “What does that mean?”

  “It means… Well… it means he was awarded the seven day Caribbean cruise at last night’s company dinner.”

  “Mom! That’s great!” Hollis paused. “So why don’t you sound happier?”

  “Because it sails at the end of this month… From the twenty-third to the thirtieth.”

  Ah. “Over Christmas.”

  “I’m sorry, Hollis. I’d say skip it, but your dad has worked so hard this year, that—” Hollis shook her head as she listened.

  “Mom. Stop. Of course you are going. And you are going to have a fabulous time.”

  “Are you sure?” Both concern and hesitant joy were evident in her tone.

  “Yes!” Hollis relaxed in her chair. “But I feel bad now that I couldn’t come home for Thanksgiving.”

  “No, please don’t. We missed you, of course, but we understood.”

  “Mom, I want you and Dad to go on that cruise and have enough fun that missing our Christmas together will be worth it. Do you understand?”

  “If you’re really sure.”

  “I am, Mom. I have friends here to spend Christmas with. Don’t worry about me.” Hollis flipped a page in her mostly unused day planner. “In fact, I’m looking at my calendar now. I can probably take a week off at the end of January and come visit.”

  “That would be wonderful!” Happy tones were back.

  “We can wait and exchange presents then, if you want.” Hollis grinned. “That gives me a chance to shop the after-holiday sales and you to buy me something fabulous in the Caribbean.”

  Her mom laughed. “Sometimes I wonder where you get this practical streak. You are so unsentimental.”

  “It’s true. Logic over tradition.” Hollis shrugged. “Must be a throwback to some ancestor. Like my red hair.”