Toronto Collection Volume 1 (Toronto Series #1-5)

by Heather Wardell

  Larissa removed the cards from their little box and shuffled them carefully. They were so small that one wrong move would send them everywhere. It had happened before, but never in a restaurant. I was half-hoping she'd scatter them far and wide, but she maintained her control. When she'd shuffled them a few times, she held them out to me. "Think about what you need to know and cut the deck."

  Am I going to survive working with Kegan? I lifted the pile of cards from her hand, divided it into two stacks, and put the bottom stack onto the top one. I thought my question one more time and returned the cards.

  "I just read about this one online," Larissa said, cradling the cards in her palm. "You pick out one card, and it answers the question all by itself."

  She spread the cards into a fan and waited. I looked at the cards, willing myself to choose a good one. Something with sweetness and light. Something about getting a job done and then never being heard from again. I picked a card. Larissa turned it over.

  "Death."

  "I've never had that one before. Kegan's going to kill me? Maybe he'll make me an entrée. Roast Candice." I giggled.

  Larissa wasn't laughing. "The card doesn't mean physical death. It means huge changes."

  "Like what?" I said, unnerved by her solemn face.

  "The end of an era, a totally new start, the loss of a long-term friendship or relationship..." She trailed off, and our eyes met.

  "I won't let it happen," I said. I meant it, but I couldn't help thinking of how I'd reacted to his handshake. I'd have to make sure he didn't get the chance to touch me again.

  "Quit."

  I stared at her. "Pardon?"

  "Quit work. Go in tomorrow and quit." Her voice was full of passion. Was my card really that bad?

  "I can't do that. Lou needs me. And we need the money. Especially if... if I end up needing treatment."

  She grimaced. "Yeah. You won't, but yeah." We ate in uncomfortable silence for a few bites before she said, "And you didn't tell Ian about having the repeat test?"

  I shook my head.

  She sighed. "It's nothing, I'm sure, but if it does come back bad, then what? You call him and tell him while he's halfway round the world?"

  "No, I wait until he gets home and tell him."

  "Don't you think he deserved to know? You are his wife. I'm sure he'd have been there for you."

  But then he might have insisted on cancelling his trip, and he needed to go. Partly for the good work he'd be doing, but mostly for him. I hadn't been able to do anything to help him after his parents died; maybe time alone would do something good for him. "He's got enough to worry about. And it's probably nothing anyhow."

  Larissa obviously had more to say, but she kept it to herself, and we worked away at our food without speaking. At last, though, she put down her fork with a clatter. "Okay, I wasn't going to ask, but I can't stop myself. How does he look? Has he changed? What did you talk about?"

  Kegan, for once, was the lesser of two conversational evils, and I jumped at the chance to distract Larissa from the question of whether I should have told Ian about my abnormal Pap test before he left. "We didn't talk about anything but the restaurant, and he really only talked to Lou about that while I took notes. He left after an hour, but I have to see him tomorrow afternoon."

  She frowned. "Just you?"

  I pulled my mouth to one side. "Probably. Lou's so busy."

  "There's nobody else who can do it?"

  I shook my head. "Lou's the restaurant designer. Unless he hires a second assistant, which Richard would never allow because it'd cut into his profits, I'm it."

  Larissa drained her martini glass. Setting it back down on the table, she said, "Well, it's not like you'd ever be stupid enough to fall for him again, so I guess it's okay. And how'd he look?"

  I shook my head slowly and sighed. "I thought he was gorgeous before. Now he looks gorgeous and grown up."

  "Just like you."

  I gave a grunt of a laugh. "No, since I'm neither of those things."

  "Says you. Ian doesn't agree."

  True. I often suggested he needed glasses, but he persisted in saying he thought I was beautiful. I wanted to believe him, but Kegan's--

  "You're thinking about what that jerk said, aren't you?"

  "How do you do that? You always know."

  "You go sort of vacant and dreamy looking. So were you?"

  "Kind of. Did you just call me vacant?"

  "Get over it. If Ian thinks you're beautiful, what does it matter whether Kegan said..." She trailed off.

  "Said I wasn't?"

  "He didn't come right out and say it."

  "Might as well have."

  Larissa sighed. "'I've had a smart girl and now I want a beautiful one', and he ends a three-year relationship. If I see him, I'll shove an eyeliner sideways up his--"

  "Larissa!"

  "I wouldn't waste a good one. They're expensive. I'll buy some cheap crappy one that I'd never use at work."

  "Oh yeah, that's much better."

  We laughed and I changed the subject, asking after her boyfriend Greg. She chattered on about him, fiddling with the opal ring he'd given her for their one-year anniversary a few months ago, which she never took off, and I listened and gave the appropriate responses. The shadow of Kegan seemed to hang in the air over our table, though, and for once I was glad to leave.

  Just before she headed to the subway station, Larissa said, "Call me whenever you want."

  "I know, I do--"

  "No, I mean any time. If you need me, if he's doing anything..."

  Anger spilled through me. I wasn't completely incompetent. I could handle a few days of working with Kegan. I forced myself to relax; Larissa only wanted to help.

  "I will. Thanks."

  She gave me a sad smile and set off. I walked to my car, thinking through the events of the day. Kegan had been back in my life barely a day, and the Death card was already making its presence known.

  *****

  As I unlocked the front door, juggling my purse, work bag, and new polar bear, I could hear Ninja howling for his dinner. I managed to get inside without stepping on him, and put my bags and shoes in the hall closet. The bear found a home on the coffee table in the living room. It would eventually join the rest of my bears, clustered mostly in our bedroom and the computer room, but for now, it was a comfort and I wanted it front and center.

  I gave Ninja a scoop of his insanely expensive cat food, sat down on the couch, and picked up the bear. I stroked its soft fur and wished I had Ian there with me instead of the bear. We'd never been apart this long before, and I was just starting to realize how weird it would be without him.

  I hadn't thought about Kegan much since Ian and I had been married. The first year of our marriage had been so blissful that there'd been no room in my mind for anyone but Ian, and we'd had so much pain in our lives since Ian's parents had been killed that we'd barely had room for each other. Pain, and guilt, at least on my part. I didn't know if he felt guilty, but then, he had no reason to. And now, with my test result...

  I was going to be all right. Lots of women got one bad test result and it didn't mean anything, didn't mean cancer. But I was still terrified. I felt so alone. Only Larissa knew, and suddenly I did wish I'd told Ian. I clung to the bear, but it didn't help.

  After a minute or so, I wiped away the few tears I'd let fall and pulled myself together. I needed sleep, but first I had to email Ian. Since there were a lot of people at the camp sharing one computer, he wouldn't be able to get online very often, so we'd agreed to only email once a day.

  Writing an email describing this particular day was a tough task. I would only see Kegan a few times before Lou took over the project, and he wasn't interested in me anyhow. There didn't seem to be much point in possibly upsetting Ian over something so trivial. I tried doing it both ways, but neither seemed right, so I decided not to tell him.

  To: ianw@buildaid.com

  From: ninjacatrocks@hotmail.com
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  Subject: Greetings

  Hey! I hope everything is going well and you get settled in nicely. I have to figure out how to get the weather reports so I'll know what it's like out there.

  Not much going on here. I had dinner with Larissa. We have a new client at work. It's a rush job, so at least I'll be busy while you're gone.

  Ninja says, "Meow." Translate as you see fit. I assume it means, "Where's Daddy? Who do I sit on for hours while we watch football?" Or it might have had something to do with food. You know how he is.

  Write back when you get a chance.

  Candice

  I re-read the email. It all seemed fine until I got to the end. We never put 'love' or 'hugs and kisses' or anything like that in our emails, but with him so far away, I felt like I should. Not 'hugs and kisses', Ian would laugh himself sick, but...

  I went back and put 'love' just above my name, then stared at it. It couldn't hurt.

  Email sent, I made myself a cup of tea and relaxed on the couch for a while working on my current crochet project, a lacy skirt in various shades of rich blue, and watching television, keeping my mind safely occupied with inconsequentials. I went to bed earlier than usual, feeling I needed my rest. Tomorrow promised to be... interesting.

  Tuesday, August 2nd

  I am standing on an ice floe. I turn my head from side to side, but see nothing but water studded with chunks of vibrantly blue glacial ice. I look back over my shoulder, but there is nobody there. I stand alone, proud and majestic, as the sky darkens to black.

  I raise my head and gaze at a beautiful bright star in the velvet sky. After a long moment, I turn and pad away in search of food, stopping only when a strangely mournful bell begins to ring.

  And ring. And ring. My eyes still closed, I scrabbled around on the bedside table and eventually laid my hand on the cordless phone.

  I said something that was meant to be hello.

  "Are you about to leave?"

  "No, I'm a polar bear," I mumbled, sliding back into sleep, back into the dream I had every few days.

  "Candice, what on earth are you talking about?"

  I forced my eyes open and sat up. "Pardon?"

  "Very funny, dear. Now listen, I know you have to leave in a minute so I'll keep this short."

  My alarm clock was blinking 12:00. There must have been a power failure overnight. "Mom," I said, interrupting whatever she was on about, "what time is it?"

  "It's nearly eight thirty. Don't tell me you're just getting up."

  All right. "No, of course not. I do have to get going, though. What were you saying?" I rifled through my closet, organized by color, and found a skirt and a short-sleeved sweater, then began to dress while pinching the phone between my ear and shoulder.

  "I just wanted to make sure you were still coming to dinner this Sunday."

  "Still?"

  She gave a sigh. "You remember, Candice. I invited you last week."

  She hadn't. "Oh, right. Sure, I can still come."

  "Your father will be so pleased. Well, see you then."

  And she was gone, leaving me with yet another thing to worry about. I loved her but I wasn't always sure I liked my mother much. And she certainly didn't like Ian. Maybe things would go better since he wasn't here. Maybe.

  No time to obsess, though. I had to get to the office. Lou didn't like me to show up later than nine, and as my commute was nearly twenty minutes, I had to get a move on. In less than five minutes, I threw my hair back into a french twist, slapped on a little makeup, and put on my favorite silver earrings. Then I grabbed a granola bar in the kitchen, tossed some food in Ninja's direction, and speed-walked down the road to the subway station.

  Crammed into the subway car with the other commuters, like so many well-dressed sardines in a tin, I wondered for the millionth time whether I'd done the right thing not telling my mother about my test result. If it did turn out to be cancer, she'd be furious that she hadn't known right from the start.

  The doctor hadn't wanted to commit herself one way or the other. "Test results like this can be false positives, Candice, but there's no guarantee. If it is cervical cancer, the faster we treat it the better."

  So I'd put my feet back in the stirrups, and she'd done another test and promised to phone me when she had the results. "I expect them by August twelfth, so if you don't hear from me by the fifteenth give me a call."

  I swung between thinking it was no big deal and utter certainty that my death was imminent. When I'd told Larissa, she'd been comforting, in her own way. "Only the good die young. You and I'll be here forever."

  I hadn't even considered telling anyone at work. If it was nothing, I didn't want to have my coworkers contemplating my cervix, and if it wasn't nothing, there'd be time later to tell if I needed to. I was sure I'd made the right decision there.

  Not telling Ian I wasn't quite so sure about.

  I arrived at the office about fifteen seconds before nine. A little sweaty and out of breath, but at least I was there and on time. I pushed open the office door, quite proud of myself. And I had a few hours before I'd have to face--

  "Good morning," Kegan said. He was sitting beside Richard's cute young assistant Allyson, who looked like Christmas had come early.

  I stared at him. Why was he here? We'd agreed on the afternoon, at his restaurant. His presence in my office felt all wrong, intimidating and uncomfortable, even though he had every right to be there.

  "I'm fine, thanks, and you?" Kegan said, raising an eyebrow, a smile playing over his mouth.

  "Mr. Underwood is here to see you, Candice," Allyson said, giving me an incredulous look.

  "Didn't I tell you to call me Kegan?" He and Allyson locked eyes, and she said, "I'm sorry, Kegan," pulling her long perfectly straight blonde hair over her shoulder and flashing him a bright smile.

  "That's better," he said, smiling back at her. Turning to me, he said, "Take your time, go and check your email or whatever you need to do. I need to talk to Richard for a second once he's off the phone, so I'll just sit here and bug Allyson until then."

  "You're a client, not a bug," she said, sounding more sincere than I'd ever heard her. "I'm happy to take care of you."

  No doubt. "Thanks," I muttered, going to my desk and trying to pull myself together. I started up my computer and fought the urge to run to the bathroom and find out just how bad I looked.

  Kegan, naturally, looked fantastic. His deep blue dress shirt matched his eyes, his pale grey tie was the perfect accent, and his hair was sleek without being overdone. Even in university he'd always been just that fraction better groomed than everyone else, clean-shaven every morning with just a hint of stubble by the evening, and never without a touch of cologne. Somehow, without ever seeming like he'd tried too hard, he always looked good.

  Kegan and Allyson continued their conversation while I did everything but stick my fingers in my ears to stop myself trying to listen to them. I couldn't hear the words, but both of them had low caressing tones in their voices that made me feel sick.

  I straightened my wedding rings and dragged my mind back to work. If Allyson was fool enough to be interested in Kegan, it was her problem. I was married, I had tasks to finish, Kegan didn't matter to me any more. I dug in my bag for my notebook and began placing Kegan's furniture orders.

  Even with my eyes fixed on my computer screen, I knew when he arrived at my desk. The air around me seemed to change, becoming electric. I didn't turn to him. I didn't want to give him the satisfaction.

  "Candy." His voice was barely above a whisper, but I jumped anyhow. Mostly for dramatic effect, but a little bit because his breath had tickled my ear, sending a shudder through me. Why was I still so responsive to him? I didn't want to be.

  "Sorry," he said, sitting down uninvited in my extra chair. "How're you doing?"

  "Fine, thanks. Just placing your orders." I turned my attention to the screen, then looked back at him. "Did you want me for something?"

  His eyes flickere
d and my cheeks grew warm despite my efforts to control myself. Kegan had a way of turning even the most innocuous comment into an outrageous innuendo. It didn't fluster me so much when we were dating; of course, back then I could act on it.

  "I thought we could go to the restaurant this morning."

  "Wasn't it supposed to be this afternoon?"

  Lou came out of his office just as Kegan said, "I think we did say this afternoon, but I was here to see Richard and I thought we could get an early start." Before I could speak, he added to Lou, "You don't mind, do you?"

  "Not at all," Lou said, and they both looked at me. I didn't want to go, didn't want to give Kegan the satisfaction of changing the schedule on me, but I had no choice.

  "Let me just finish this order and I'll be ready," I said. Kegan sat beside me as I finished entering the order, making me so uncomfortable that I flubbed several numbers and had to fix them. At last it was done. I picked up my bag and stuffed the notebook into it. Kegan headed back to the front of the office and Allyson's desk. I followed.

  When I reached Allyson, she smiled at me. "We should go for lunch sometime this week. We haven't had time to chat for ages."

  Allyson had never expressed even a hint of interest in chatting with me. "Um, sure. When's good for you?"

  "Thursday?" Before I could answer, she turned to Kegan. "You're welcome to come too, of course."

  A wave of dizziness hit me, but Kegan said, "I have other plans, unfortunately. Maybe another time?"

  "That would be great," Allyson said. She blinked suddenly and a blush lit up her face, and I knew he'd brought out the ever-effective wink again. I also knew she and I wouldn't be having lunch on Thursday.