It's Not Over (Paths To Love Book 1)

by Grahame Claire

  “You’re not funny,” I said mock seriously.

  “Then why are you smiling?” he challenged.

  “I’m not.” But a corner of my mouth turned up in spite of myself. I pretended it hadn’t happened, making a conscious effort to frown. “I haven’t gotten around to asking my mother to send it yet.” I didn’t mention that was because I didn’t want my parents to think I was too immature to have remembered to bring a jacket to New York.

  Typically, it was a fight for real estate on the sidewalk after work. I would bump and brush against so many people, I didn’t even notice when it happened anymore. But as I walked with him, the Sixth Avenue seas parted as if we had a bubble around us, like he owned the space and had allowed others to use it.

  “Back to my original question. Why were you smiling when you left your office? I know it wasn’t because you were happy to be off work.”

  I was excited, so eager to share my news that I couldn’t help myself. Words flowed out of my mouth in rapid fire, and I couldn’t stop. Daniel listened to every single one of them as if they were the most important he’d ever heard, focusing on me instead of where he was walking. It might normally have been unnerving to have all that attention on me, but I was too worked up. I didn’t have anyone else to share the news with. The closest thing I had to friends were coworkers. I couldn’t exactly gloat that I’d gotten this awesome position when some of them were after the same thing. I might be confident and competitive, but I wasn’t cruel.

  “Congratulations, Vivian. I’m proud of you.”

  My steps faltered, but I squared my shoulders and kept moving. I didn’t know if anyone had ever said that to me. I filtered through as many memories as I could in the span of a few seconds and didn’t come up with a single time. Hearing them from Daniel momentarily threw me off balance, because he actually did look pleased for me. It seemed as if he’d have been surprised by anything else, which caused a tightening in my chest I’d never felt before. “Thank you.” My cheeks got hot before I remembered myself.

  “I know Hamerstein. For him to take you on personally speaks volumes.” My cheeks heated again. Daniel’s confidence in me felt unreasonably good.

  “This is me,” I said as we approached a set of stairs descending into the underbelly of New York. I started to shrug off his coat, but he placed a hand on the small of my back, guiding me down the first step. So I kept moving, staying ahead of him. He should have appeared awkward down here among the normal, everyday people, but he blended seamlessly, surprising me when he fished a MetroCard out of his wallet while he walked through the crowd like he did this on a daily basis. How often did he come down here?

  When I held my card against the sensor on the turnstile, it flashed red. “Damn it,” I cursed under my breath.

  Daniel had already made it through to the other side. “Use mine.” He held out the card, and I leveled him with a look that would have reduced anyone else to rubble. I pushed past the annoyed man behind me and walked over to the machine by the wall to add a little cash. I dug in my purse, finding four dollars at the bottom, and smoothed out each bill by vigorously rubbing it on the metal edge of the machine. Twice it spit the dollar bills back out, and I tried my trick once again. “I’m trying to give you money,” I grumbled to the machine. “You’d think you’d be grateful and accept it any way you could get it.” As if it had ears to hear, the bills disappeared.

  This time the turnstile offered no resistance, allowing me through. Daniel was waiting for me as if he had all the time in the world, following as I led us through throngs of people to my train. We’d just missed one when we approached the platform, so we stood close to the edge, first up to get on the next one.

  “Hold this.” Before I could push my bag into him, it hit a brick wall of arm muscle he’d folded over his chest, lightning fast.

  “Add please to the end of that, and you’ll get a lot further,” he said, tossing my words back at me verbatim.

  “Please.” I gave him the most sugary sweet smile, and he took the tote from me. I rummaged around in it while he held it open. “How was your day?” I pulled out one black ballet slipper and then the other. Bracing my hand on his shoulder, I lifted one foot off the ground, slid off my heel, dropped it in my bag, and replaced it with a ballet shoe. My big toe peeked out through the hole I’d worn through the leather, a jagged island of red nail color in the space where the nylon of my stockings should have been.

  I repeated the process until I had both ballet shoes on. When I put my foot back on the floor, I noticed Daniel wasn’t breathing, just staring at me. That was the thing about eyes the color ours were. They were easy to hide behind. It was difficult for anyone to read beyond the onyx, even for someone trained in the art, like me. The black depths were captivating, a distraction the average person never got past.

  I peeled my fingers off of his shoulder and watched air fill his chest again. It occurred to me I’d never voluntarily touched him, and my own insides were buzzing like mad. A man like Daniel wasn’t one to let contact—or anything—-affect him. I wondered if it was my touch or if he just didn’t like it in general.

  “Getting more interesting by the minute,” he finally said.

  “I’ll take that back now.” I held out my arm for him to hang the straps on, but he clutched it in his large hand.

  “Allow me. It weighs more than you do.”

  I put a hand on my hip, and his eyes flickered with interest. “Did no one ever teach you a thing about women?” I asked, exasperated.

  “As a matter of fact, they didn’t.”

  “Well, it’s a good thing I’m here to help you,” I told him earnestly. “Never ever mention a woman’s weight. Even if you don’t mean it in a derogatory way. You might think it’s a nice thing to say something like, ‘Oh, you’ve lost weight. You look fantastic.’ Seems innocent enough, right? All she hears is that you thought she was fat before, even if you didn’t. It’s a no-go topic, Princess. You can thank me in five years when your eyes are still intact because no female has clawed them out.”

  “What else do I need to know about the opposite sex?” He was amused, a cocky smirk on his face. Daniel probably had more knowledge of women in his pinky than I did as a whole.

  “Oh no. You’ve gotten your free piece of advice. This isn’t an all-day buffet.”

  The sound of his laughter was drowned out by the approaching train, and for once I wished it could have waited another second. Eliciting that laugh from him seemed the equivalent of winning a gold medal. I was filled with the sound, my already stellar mood enhanced because I had gotten a laugh out of the no-nonsense Daniel Elliott. It seriously competed for the best part of my day, and I’d had a pretty damn good one.

  The doors to the subway car opened, a few people exited, and I pushed my way in, making a beeline for a vacated seat. Daniel sank into the one beside me, and I seized my purse from him, settling it on my lap.

  “On your way to a performance?” he asked, pointing his chin at my worn out ballet slippers as if he’d just noticed them.

  “Cute,” I said, pretending to be unimpressed by his wit. “For your information, these are comfortable.” Although they really weren’t much better than walking barefoot on the streets, they were a vast improvement over heels. “Obviously, you have no fashion sense.” Obviously, I was lying through my teeth. The man looked amazing in whatever he wore. It was kind of disgusting what he did for a suit.

  “It is true I am most definitely not on the cutting edge of high fashion,” he said dryly.

  Apparently I wasn’t the only one who appreciated the gorgeous package that he was. The woman seated across from us wasn’t even trying to hide that she was staring, her lips slightly parted as she was imagining exactly what was underneath that power suit. Daniel didn’t notice his observer, his eyes trained on me like I was the only other person on the planet.

  I shifted in my seat, though I met his gaze head-on, as if all that intensity didn’t affect me in the least. “
Then you’re really in no position to comment.” Something about him made me extra sassy, and I wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not.

  My phone pinged inside my bag, and I pulled it out to find a text from my carrier that a payment was due or my service would be suspended. I couldn’t get a signal down here if my life depended on it, but the damn phone company is going to get the message through when I owe them money. I snapped the phone shut, hoping Daniel hadn’t seen that. The bill wouldn’t be paid for at least another week.

  “You dropped this.” The nosy bastard was holding out a wrinkled piece of paper that he’d unfolded. “Where is it?”

  “New Zealand.” I’d printed it off the internet. I snatched the photo from him. The mountains were so majestic in the picture that every time I looked at them, they took my breath away.

  “Did you take that?”

  “No. But someday I will,” I told him confidently, folding the paper back into a square.

  “What’s all that?” He indicated the rainbow of writing that covered the back of the white copy paper.

  “The places I have to visit someday. I want to spend at least a month on the South Island. I mean, I’d like to see the north one too. But the south is what I want to visit first.”

  “May I have a look? Please?” he added, and I felt a small victory that he was doing something for me that he didn’t for anyone else.

  I held the paper a little tighter. This was something I’d never shared with anybody. It’s not like it was a big secret or anything, but if nobody knew and for some reason I never made it, then no one would know I’d failed. Except I wasn’t going to fail. Because I was on my way to being an accountant, and one day I would see this mountain for myself. Without any further hesitation, I passed the paper to him, deciding I could share my dreams with him. If I expected him to do the same, I had to go first.

  Daniel took it from me as if I was handing him a glass egg. He unfolded the picture again, studying it.

  I’d found the photo online several years ago during a mindless perusal of the vast information superhighway. The mountain had spoken to me right away, had some kind of spiritual pull on me. My desire to see it made no sense, yet I couldn’t ignore it. That’s what I’d been saving all the money for. It wasn’t a question of if I would go, but when.

  “We’re almost to my stop,” I said after a few minutes. Daniel’s eyes were still riveted to my notes. He blinked at me, almost as if he’d forgotten where he was, gently folded the printout, and handed it to me. “Think you can find your way back on your own?” I goaded as I slipped it back in my purse.

  He pressed his lips together and pretended to give the question serious thought. “Not sure if I can manage.”

  I actually smiled at that, standing when the train came to a stop. Daniel got to his feet along with me and followed me through the open doors and out of the station. I was three stops away from my apartment, but I didn’t want him knowing where I lived.

  “Here’s your coat,” I said as I shrugged it off. “You shouldn’t be out in this weather in your frail condition without it.” My body temperature plummeted without the outer garment, and I immediately missed his scent that had surrounded me.

  “Frail?”

  I squeezed his biceps, which were solid. I gave him an apologetic look. “Definitely frail.” Definitely lying. “Now get back into the station before you freeze.” I handed him his coat, which he didn’t seem to want to take.

  “Keep it,” he said, still sounding miffed.

  “I’ll be fine. I have a lot of energy, so I can get home in a flash.” I gave him another saccharine smile, and sauntered off, stopping after a few steps, turning back to him. He was still standing at the mouth of the subway, coat draped over his arm like an accessory. “Where do you want to go, Daniel?”

  For a moment, he appeared caught off guard. The question was innocent enough, a generic, run of the mill, everyday kind of question. Yet I knew it meant more to him. Just like that picture meant more to me.

  He’s not going to answer.

  I focused my expectant gaze on him. If he wanted off this hook, he’d have to find his own way.

  “Iceland.”

  I hid my surprise at such an obscure answer and then turned away, heading down the sidewalk. I half expected him to follow me. He didn’t.

  When I got into my frigid apartment and changed into my thermal underwear, flannel pajamas, a hoodie, and three pairs of socks, and settled under two blankets, I realized he hadn’t once demanded I go out with him. No. Everything he did today was about getting to know me and nothing more. He’d upped his game.

  Chapter Ten

  Daniel

  Present

  “What the fuck has gotten into you?” Donato asked as the tennis ball sailed past him for the umpteenth time this afternoon. I was taking out my frustration on the little green ball, and in the process beating myself to a pulp. “I won’t complain about kicking your ass on the court, but this is aggressive even for you.”

  “I’m fine,” I said, wiping the sweat from my forehead.

  “Sounds like it,” he said in disbelief, walking toward the center of the court. “I’m done here. Quitting while I’m ahead.”

  “I have somewhere to be anyway.” Fuck, I sounded like a sulky kid, but I couldn’t help it.

  “Don’t be mad because an old man ran circles around you on the court today.” This wasn’t a jab. It was Donato’s way of trying to get me to talk without getting too touchy feely. He knew I didn’t go for that shit. He wasn’t exactly a teddy bear either, except when it came to his wife and children.

  “First time for everything.”

  Donato took a bottle of water from the ice chest beside the court and handed it to me. I unscrewed the cap and downed half the contents. We got together at least once a week, when weather permitted, to play tennis on the private rooftop court at his penthouse. My mother had taught me how to play. Donato fed the addiction, helped me get better. I wasn’t half bad, but the stress relief was the appeal for me.

  Donato moved to a set of chairs and sank into one. I dropped into the seat next to his. “I’ve come to a decision about Vinny,” he started, and I darted a look at him. “My judgment has been clouded in regard to him. No need to rehash the reasons why again.” He ran a hand through his sweat-slicked hair. “Vinny has proven repeatedly he’s not to be trusted. You and I will handle the important business, as we have been. We cannot allow him to sabotage what we’ve built. We need to keep him on a short leash. A choke chain.”

  “How did he take it when you told him you recovered the painting?” We hadn’t had a chance to discuss it, but to say I’d been preoccupied was an understatement.

  “Outwardly, he appeared relieved, but he wasn’t happy. I made like I was looking for the thief. I decided it was in our best interest to continue to behave as if we’re oblivious to his doings. When he gets cocky, he fucks up.”

  “No matter what, he fucks up,” I muttered.

  Donato didn’t disagree, leaning forward and bracing his forearms on his knees. He dropped his head for a moment before looking back at me. “I was hoping Vinny would step up, do things the right way. It would free you. Get you out of this world. There will come a day when I won’t be here, and I don’t want you to be stuck.” He spoke as if that were in the distant future when we both knew otherwise.

  “I’m only in it because of you,” I confessed.

  Donato’s eyes softened at the admission. “I know that,” he said. Guess I was more transparent than I thought. Donato’s gaze sharpened, his mouth turning hard. “The authorities have me shackled, especially with this new development. They’ll use whatever leverage they can to get what they want. It’s always money, and sometimes blood.”

  “What more could they possibly want now?” I asked bitterly. My businesses operated on the wrong side of the law at times, but I managed to stay on the good side of the authorities. Thanks to Donato, they pretty much left me alone.


  “They want to know who owned the Cézanne. Where we got it,” Donato said, running his hand through his hair once again. That painting had been stolen over twenty years ago from a museum in Prague and had been hiding in a private collection ever since. Owning it was a serious crime, selling it a great risk. Brokering the sale of stolen goods on the black market could be dodgy, especially when the authorities wanted to use it as leverage.

  “Why would the feds put you in that position?”

  “Because they fucking can. No matter what I do, how many years I’ve fed them whatever they want to know, it’s never enough,” he grumbled, his face turning dark. “That’s one reason I let Vinny handle the deal, to keep you out of it. They’ve been breathing down my neck about it.” Donato’s eyes met mine, his jaw set the way it did when he was forced into a decision he didn’t like but had resolved to see through. “When the owners go down, Vinny will look like the rat.”

  I digested the implication of what Donato had said. To think I’d doubted his decision to let Vinny take the lead on such a big deal. He’d chosen me over his brother, protecting me over blood, which only reinforced the tough decisions I’d had to make. The people we’d gotten that painting from would kill anyone who betrayed them. Donato had made sure they didn’t know I existed.

  “That must have been a difficult decision,” I said carefully. How do you thank a man who has saved your life on more than one occasion? Not with words. For once I was going to protect him, by doing what was necessary.

  He reached over and covered the hand resting on my knee. “Actually, it wasn’t at all.” Donato asked me with his eyes to see what he wanted me to hear. That he cared about me. But I couldn’t do it. Breakers began to flip inside me, shutting me down. He saw my protective shield rise into place, disappointment and hurt in his eyes. Donato never pushed me, not when it came to letting him in. I simply could not acknowledge how I felt about him, and I couldn’t stand to hear his feelings about me.