So much for steering the conversation to safer ground. “Let’s not.”
The waitress finally delivered their food and the rest of dinner was uneventful. Without any real heartfelt enthusiasm, she talked about her upcoming plans to travel the world—plans that used to make her giddy with excitement.
After dinner, she hailed a cab to take her back to her lonely apartment, where she was haunted by the memories of her amazing adventure up against the door with Will. Things weren’t so different for her since Sissy’s death after all. She was still plagued by if onlys and might have beens.
…
The rumble of Will’s motorcycle dimmed the noise of the city around him, but couldn’t drown out his thoughts. As he drove home after the post-auction cocktail party, all he could think about was how fierce and loyal Claire had been when confronting Beth. If only things had been different. If only he had foreseen the effect of the investigation on her. If only.
I’m not his lover, nor will I ever be. In her mind, it was over, but he couldn’t seem to let go. He knew she’d be more receptive if he gave her more time too cool off, but she was leaving soon and he didn’t have time.
The light turned red and he pulled up behind a cab with an ad for a new Broadway musical stretched across a mini-billboard above the trunk. The ad depicted a happy couple with sparkly grins and their arms around each other. And they lived happily ever after was scrawled across the bottom in swirly gold letters.
The light turned green and the cab inched forward, but a car stuck in the intersection forced him to endure staring at the 2-D happy embrace a little longer. That’s what he wanted: a fairy-tale ending, even if the happily ever after only meant two weeks.
Traffic started moving again and the cab switched lanes and turned. He would give anything for another chance—anything, including doing something risky. But hell, what was left for him to lose? Will took a right at the next light and right again, heading back in the opposite direction.
…
Claire rolled up another coffee cup in bubble wrap and placed it on top of the others in the box. She’d thought that packing would bring back that anticipation of leaving she craved. Sadly, every item she placed in the box felt more like a nail in the coffin than a step toward adventure.
Telling Beth off had felt fantastic, but at the same time, it made her sadder for what she was missing—a big, hot, honest, kind man with painfully talented hands. And other talented parts, too.
Her phone dinged again as Heather left another voicemail. She appreciated her friend’s concern, but right now, she just wanted to be left alone.
She sighed and wrapped another cup. By Monday, she’d have enough of her stuff boxed up to start moving it to storage. Then she’d leave this big, loud city behind. That’s what she’d always wanted, right?
No. Not anymore. She wanted Will. More than money or even Egypt, and the realization sucked. And with that miserable thought, she crumbled to the floor, wrapped her arms around her knees and cried. She was long overdue for a cry, and damn, it felt good.
The banging on the door caused her to jump. The doorman hadn’t called to announce a visitor. Maybe it was a neighbor. Something had damned well better be on fire for someone to knock on her door after ten o’clock.
Barefoot and wearing warm-ups and a T-shirt, she wiped the tears from her face, wandered to the door, and stood on her tiptoes to peer through the peephole. Will was the last person she had expected. She opened the door without hesitation as her heart did a somersault in her chest at the sight of him filling her doorway. The closed look on his face, though, gave her pause.
“I’m sorry. I had to come. If it’s a bad time, I can go,” he said.
And then his facial expression made sense. He was protecting himself.
“No. It’s okay. I was packing up some stuff. Come on in.” She sniffled, and realized she must look a mess since he’d interrupted her cry. “How’d you get in?”
“There’s only one guy down at the desk at night. He’s gotta go pee sometime.”
She stepped aside and he entered, stopping right inside the doorway. Instead of his usual confident demeanor, he was tentative. It must have been hard for him to come here. Risky even. She knew now that he had been sincere and that meant there was a lot at stake for him—just like there was for her.
“Look, Will, I—”
“Wait.” He held his palms up. “Please. I need to say some things.”
As if a hole had opened up in the floor, she felt like she was sinking.