“You may go, Nallana,” Lucian told the woman in the chair across from him.
Her hands were tucked in the pocket of a Nine Inch Nails sweatshirt. She looked amused. “But I wanna stay and watch the show,” she said.
“Go away,” Lucian said, eyes still on me.
On a sigh, she hopped out of the chair, shot me a wink, and left.
I slapped the paper down on his desk. Then just to be a jerk, I dragged my fingertips across the spotless glass top. “Explain.”
“I owe you zero explanations. You need to leave.”
“Not until you explain this,” I said, drilling my finger into the paper.
He glanced down at it, then reached into his desk drawer and did something I didn’t expect. The son of a bitch put on a sexy pair of reading glasses.
It was like the universe was mocking me. The hot guy who rocked my world between the sheets and wore reading glasses was the one man I didn’t want.
“This looks like an invoice that’s been satisfied,” he said as though I was the dumbest human on the planet. “Now if you don’t mind, I don’t want you here.”
“I know that, you insufferable oaf. It’s a medical invoice for an experimental cancer treatment not covered by health insurance. Why is your name on it?”
“My name is on a lot of things,” he said. He took off his readers, then fed the paper through the shredder at his feet. “If that’s all, I’ll have security escort you out.”
There was a tension in him, a nervousness that I’d never seen before.
“I’m not leaving without answers. The faster you give them to me, the sooner I’ll be gone.”
He snatched up his desk phone and dialed. “Ms. Walton will be requiring an escort back to her mother’s place in five minutes.”
I crossed my arms and glared at him as he listened to whoever was on the other end of the phone call.
“Yes. Have her vehicle swept and post a guard.” He hung up abruptly and leveled me with an icy look. “Ask your questions, and then you need to go.”
I was hanging on by sheer will. I closed my eyes and took a calming breath. “Lucian, why is your name on an astronomically expensive cancer treatment for my father? A treatment I was told was a clinical trial? A treatment that gave him six more weeks with us.” My voice broke pathetically.
The tension between us ratcheted up to unbearable heights. We stared each other down even as my eyes dampened.
“Don’t do this, Sloane,” he said quietly. “Please.”
“For once in your life, just tell me,” I begged.
“You should discuss this with your mother.”
“She told me to talk to you.”
He was silent for a long beat. “He wanted one more Christmas with you.”
I took a step back and hid my face behind my hands.
“You’re not going to cry, are you?” he demanded gruffly.
“I’m having a lot of feelings right now, and I’m not sure which one is going to win out,” I said from behind my hands.
“You’re angry with me,” he surmised.
“I’m not angry that you spent seven figures giving me a few more weeks with my father, assface. I’m beyond grateful for that, and I have no idea how to handle it. But why would you do something like this without telling me? Why hide this?”
“Perhaps you should try taking deep breaths? Outside. Far away from my office.”
“What else?” I demanded.
“I’m not following you,” he said, gaze darting toward the door.
I closed the distance between us, gripped his damn tie, and looked him in the eye. “I’m giving you this one, last opportunity to be honest with me. What else have you paid for or donated or created for my benefit without ever telling me while still treating me like I’d ruined your life?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
I inhaled sharply. “So Yoshino Holdings, the Stella Partnership, and the Bing Group aren’t ringing any bells?”
His face hardened.
“I’m in the middle of a very busy day—”
I gave his tie a yank. “I don’t care if you’re in the middle of your own lifesaving appendectomy, Lucifer. We are having this conversation.”
His silence was stony, and it damned him.
“The Yoshino Holdings Foundation funded a $100,000 grant that allowed the library to upgrade our computer system and start the tablet and laptop lending programs. The Stella Partnership awarded the library a $75,000 grant to extend our community program offerings including creating a position for Naomi. And the Bing Group funded a generous donation to cover the rest of the building costs of the Knox Morgan Municipal Building, which coincidentally houses my library.”
“If you’re finished—”
“Lucian, all those organizations are named after cherry tree varieties. And all of them are owned by you.” It was all coming together into one unimaginable picture in my head.
He scoffed. “I don’t know where you get your information, but I can assure you—”
“I’m a librarian, you hulking pain in the ass. It’s my job to know things! What I don’t know is why you would be funding my dreams with your money when, as you so eloquently put it, you can barely stand the sight of me.”
“I don’t need to explain my tax write-offs to you.”
“I don’t know if I want to throw your stapler through your window or at your head,” I muttered, stepping away from him and starting to pace.
“I’d prefer the window,” he said behind me.
I glanced down as I passed his desk and spotted something familiar in the still open top drawer. “Oh my God,” I said, snatching up a pair of broken glasses. My broken glasses. They’d fallen off during a Halloween skirmish in Knockemout, and I hadn’t been able to find them.
“Stay out of my things,” Lucian said, starting for me.
I held up the glasses. “If I mean nothing to you, why did you give me more time with my dad? Why did you donate so much money to my causes? And why the hell are you keeping my glasses that I lost at Book or Treat last fall in your top desk drawer?”
“Lower your voice, or security is going to carry you out of here,” he growled.
“Say the words, Lucian.”
“If you’re going to waste my time speaking in riddles, you might as well sit down and drink some damn water,” he said gruffly, heading for the crystal decanter on the conference table.
“You love me, you idiot. You’ve loved me since we were kids. You loved me even when I broke your trust. You loved me after I fixed it. You still love me.”
He stopped midstride and turned to glower at me. “You didn’t fix anything. You nearly got yourself killed. And if he had gotten out for even an hour, he would have made sure to end you. That’s what he did to things I cared about. There is no court order that would have protected you from him.”
“So you protected me by keeping our friendship a secret. And you continued to protect me by pushing me away. I was just some crazy, nosy neighbor girl.”
“He would have found a way to hurt you. He did find a way to hurt you.”
“He’s gone now, Lucian. He’s dead. What’s your excuse now?”
“I don’t know where this narrative is coming from, but you’re embarrassing yourself. I don’t love you,” he insisted.
His tone was even and chilly, his face stony. But I could see the truth, the yearning in his eyes.
“Are you sure that’s the answer you want to stick with?” I whispered.
“I don’t love you,” he insisted stubbornly.
I let out a shaky breath. “After all those years, all the things we’ve been through together, you still can’t even be honest with me.”
“I’m being honest,” he said, not quite meeting my eyes.
“You love me,” I repeated. Twin tears escaped, sliding hotly down my cheeks. “You love me, and yet you’re content to never try. That’s not sad. That’s pathetic.”
“You need to leave, Sloane,” he said sharply.
My heart felt like it had been tossed into a wood chipper. Everything hurt.
“I will.” I headed for the door and then stopped. “I’ll never be able to repay you for those last months with my father.”