Back on Blossom Street (13 page)

Colette Blake

A
s Colette waited for Christian Dempsey on Sunday evening, she tried to calm her frayed nerves by reviewing her conversation with Alix Townsend the day before. She’d gotten to know Alix and to like her. After lunch, they’d chatted for nearly two hours.

Her conversation with Alix had clarified her own situation. She knew most of her comments had been cryptic and yet Alix hadn’t pressed her for details Colette didn’t want to disclose. She could only imagine what people would think once they learned she was pregnant. But Alix wasn’t judgmental in the least. If anything, she was exactly the opposite—accepting, tolerant,
kind.

During their conversation, Alix had opened up about her own life. Colette would never have guessed the trauma the young woman had endured, and she’d found it difficult not to reveal her shock. Hearing about Alix’s struggles made Colette feel close to her in a way she hadn’t with anyone in years.

Colette used to think she had good friends. For the past half-dozen years, her life had revolved around her job
with Dempsey Imports, and most of her time was spent with colleagues, many of whom became friends. They’d replaced the friends she’d had in college. And when she and Derek socialized, it’d been with a completely separate group, primarily cops and their spouses. After Derek’s death, their “couple friends” had eventually drifted away. Later, when she resigned from Dempsey Imports, she’d abandoned her work friends, afraid Christian would use them to contact her. It was a rude awakening now to realize her friends were so few.

Colette wasn’t angry about it, or for that matter, upset. She viewed it all as rather enlightening. Examining herself, she was forced to admit she hadn’t been much of a friend and was determined to change that. Jenny was a good example. Not once since leaving Dempsey Imports had she contacted Jenny, although she’d considered it from time to time—usually for the wrong reasons. Jenny must wonder why she’d left so abruptly and why she hadn’t been in touch. That realization led her to a decision—two decisions. She’d give Jenny a call soon. And she’d be a friend to Alix. Following their chat, she believed Alix had felt a connection to her, too. They each had their troubles, and there was no need for pretense. If Alix wanted to talk about the wedding, Colette was determined to listen.

The knock at the door leading into the alley startled her. Colette drew a calming breath, and after climbing slowly down the stairs, opened the door. Christian Dempsey stood there, looking as confident as ever.

Colette managed a smile. “I see you’re right on time,” she said. It was a weak conversational gambit—especially since Christian had never been late in his life. His days were ruled by the clock.

“Are you ready?” he asked brusquely.

Colette nodded. “I’ll get my purse and sweater.” She
went back up the stairs, gathered what she needed and when she came out of the bedroom, discovered that Christian had followed her up. He stood in the middle of her tiny apartment, looking curiously around. Whiskers wandered into the room and Christian bent down to pet the cat, who purred with delight, lifting his tail and arching his back.

“I didn’t know you had a cat.”

“Whiskers belongs to Lydia, the shop owner,” Colette explained. “She used to live in this apartment. She left when she got married, but Whiskers considers this his home. I have the impression he’s allowing me to live here.”

Christian grinned as he straightened, and Whiskers wove his sleek body between Christian’s legs, as if to say this man was welcome to visit anytime he pleased.

Naturally Colette chose to ignore Whiskers’ warm welcome. She led Christian downstairs, and they walked through the alley to Blossom Street, where he’d parked. As she’d expected, he drove a fancy sports car that was low to the ground. She wasn’t aware quite how low until he opened the passenger door and she tried to slip gracefully inside. Thankfully, he didn’t so much as crack a smile at her less-than-elegant attempt.

He chatted amicably about Blossom Street as he got in next to her and started the engine. Never having been terribly interested in cars, Colette couldn’t have identified what kind it was; all she could say was that it made lots of noise and seemed to speed up effortlessly between red lights, until they entered the freeway. From that point forward, they whizzed past every vehicle they encountered as if all the other cars were crawling along. He didn’t seem worried about a speeding ticket.

It never occurred to her to ask where they’d be having dinner. When he mentioned a restaurant on the Everett wa
terfront, she was surprised. Everett was forty minutes to an hour from downtown Seattle, depending on traffic. They reached it in thirty-five minutes, with Christian carrying the conversation. Despite a determined effort, Colette couldn’t make herself relax. She didn’t understand why he’d insisted on this date. And yet she owed him the truth. He deserved to know she was pregnant, and that the baby was his. That she’d lied to him earlier when he’d asked. All she needed now was the courage to tell him.

She knew that sooner or later, he’d probably be arrested. The fact that she was responsible for alerting the law weighed heavily on her shoulders. A dozen times a day she wondered if she’d made a mistake. So far, though, everything said she shouldn’t trust this man…. But no matter what, she had to tell him about the baby. That was a decision she’d reached during more than one sleepless night.

When they got to the restaurant in Everett, Christian parked in valet service and to her gratitude, helped her out of the car. They were escorted to a corner table for two that was both private and romantic. They were handed large leather-bound menus, and a bottle of French champagne arrived soon after that.

“I hope you like champagne.”

“I do, but I only drink it when I have something to celebrate,” she said. “I don’t feel I do.” She decided now was as good a time as any to bring up his legal position. “Christian,” she said, looking intently across the table at him. “I’d like you to consider…” She faltered slightly.

“Yes.”

She kept her voice low for fear of anyone listening. “If at all possible, I urge you to go to the police.”

Christian leaned back in his chair. “I can’t do that.”

“Christian,” she said, struggling not to plead with him. “You know what I did.”

“I know about the letter.”

“Then you have to realize it’s only a matter of time before… there’s an arrest.”

He shrugged carelessly. “I have an excellent attorney.”

“But—”

“I’d rather not discuss it.”

Of course. She lowered her gaze, afraid that if she looked him in the eye he’d know how deeply she cared for him. Afraid he’d guess the secret she held so close to her heart. “If you aren’t indicted now, you will be soon.”

Again he shrugged. “Perhaps. Despite your letter, I seem to have passed INS scrutiny.”

“Oh.” But she wondered if the INS knew the whole story—or if he was even telling her the truth.

“So that’s the reason you agreed to have dinner with me.” His smile was amused. “You thought you might convince me to give myself up.” He pressed his wrists together as if they’d been handcuffed. “Sorry to disappoint you.”

It
was
a disappointment, but she refused to let him see that. “I’d hoped…I thought…” She couldn’t finish.

“I’m sorry, Colette, but I can’t do what you ask.”

He wasn’t sorry enough.

“Can we still enjoy our meal?”

Colette lifted her eyes to meet his and discovered a look of tenderness she hadn’t expected. She wanted to believe Christian wasn’t involved in smuggling other human beings, but the evidence said otherwise.

“I don’t know,” she said after a long moment. As far as she was concerned, the evening was already over. She’d go through the motions and even contribute to the conversation. But her desire to tell him about the baby had waned. There really wasn’t any rush. He would learn about it eventually; she’d tell him when she had no other option.

Christian returned his gaze to the menu, sipping from his flute of champagne while Colette ignored hers. Then he set it aside and leaned closer. “Are you seeing Steve Grisham?” he asked bluntly.

The question took her aback. He’d said he wanted to take her to dinner so they could end their relationship on a positive note. Why would he ask about someone she’d only mentioned once? Perhaps his real intent this evening was to find out exactly how much she knew—and whether she’d said anything to Steve.

“That’s none of your business.” Colette quickly scanned the menu and decided on the grilled salmon with mango salsa.

“I beg to differ,” he said. “Since this man’s associated with law enforcement, you can imagine my concern.”

She looked at him quickly, not sure whether he was laughing at her.

“I haven’t breathed a word of this to anyone,” she said stiffly.

“Other than the authorities,” he interjected. He really did seem to consider it a joke.

“Do you think this is amusing?” she snapped. “Apparently so because…” She swallowed hard, tugging at the linen napkin on her lap. He’d committed a despicable crime and he found it funny? That disturbed her more than almost anything he’d done.

“I apologize,” Christian murmured.

She nodded, slightly mollified. “I said nothing, I promise you. Not to
anyone.
”

He bowed his head. “Thank you for that.”

She didn’t want his thanks.

He hesitated, then added, “You really are a beautiful woman.” His eyes were intense for a second or two, embarrassing her.

“Flattery isn’t going to change my mind, Christian,” she protested. This entire conversation was disconcerting. “I know the kind of man you are…now. I was fooled earlier but not anymore.”

“Despite what you think of me, I meant that, Colette.”

“Don’t be absurd.” Her cheeks filled with color and she glared at him.

“All right, all right.” He raised one hand. “I believe I asked if you’d decided to date that friend of your husband’s.”

“And I believe I said it wasn’t any of your business.”

“You did,” he concurred. “I’m asking again anyway, and not for the reason you assume.”

“Why would you care?” She refused to look away. “And what legitimate reason could you possibly have for asking?”

He frowned. “Please, just answer my question. Yes or no?”

She could see he wouldn’t drop it until she told him. “Steve and I have spoken a few times,” she said.

“You haven’t gone out with him, though, have you?”

“Not yet, but that’s about to change. I’ll be seeing him next week.” She didn’t understand why it should matter to him. Christian had gone out of his way to have roses delivered to another woman on a weekly basis, and he’d made sure they came from Susannah’s Garden. More than that, he’d forced Colette to take the order. So he thought it was okay to flaunt his new girlfriend, but he somehow felt he could dictate who
she
was allowed to see!

“Don’t do it,” he said sharply. “Break the date.”

“Can you give me one reason why I should?”

“I can’t—”

Colette couldn’t remain silent. “I happen to genuinely like Steve Grisham,” she burst out. “He was a good friend to my husband and I’ve known him for years.”

Christian set the menu aside. After the intense look he’d sent her earlier, he now gave the impression that it was of little concern. Talk about mixed messages! He’d been adamant only moments ago and now he seemed completely indifferent.

“I gather you’ve recently met someone yourself,” she pressed, curiosity getting the better of her. “The woman you’re sending all those roses.”

He nodded. “I’ll admit she’s very special.”

Colette’s stomach twisted with what could only be jealousy. She didn’t
want
to care and yet she did, more than she was willing to acknowledge. However, she kept her response light. “She must be special if you’ve ordered flowers for the entire year,” Colette continued. “As I recall, most of your liaisons didn’t last nearly that long.”

He arched his brows, and Colette grinned. “You forget I was the one who made the reservations for all your dinner dates—
and
ordered the flowers.”

He cocked his head. “But you’ll notice I didn’t bring
you
to any of those restaurants.”

Colette found it impossible not to smile. “So that’s why we had to drive an hour outside of Seattle. You’ve gone through the entire roster of fine dining establishments in all of King County.”

Christian was saved from having to answer when the waiter came for their dinner order. After he’d left, the subject changed and they discussed mutual acquaintances. It was common ground, and safe.

To say the meal was divine would be an understatement. Every course, from the roasted tomato soup with hot rosemary-scented rolls to the hearts-of-palm salad to her entrée was so delicious it practically dissolved on her tongue.

“You didn’t drink your champagne,” Christian said
as the waiter carried off their dinner plates. He gestured at the full glass that had remained untouched throughout the meal.

“No, I didn’t.”

His expression sobered as he stared at her intently. “Why? Because being with me is nothing to celebrate? Or is there some other reason?”

That comment made her flinch, but it was the perfect lead-in for what she had to tell him—and she would have, had their conversation gone another way. Instead, she’d learned that he was relying on attorneys to rescue him from the law. Under the circumstances, Colette didn’t feel she
could
let him know, not right now. She had to wait, see what the next few months would bring.

“Are you trying to ask me if I’m pregnant?” she asked, smiling as though the question was patently absurd. “I already gave you my answer, remember? I have no reason to lie.”

The tension visibly eased from his shoulders.

“However, if I was,” she said, purposely testing him, “I’d certainly know your feelings on the matter, wouldn’t I?”

It was plain that talk of a pregnancy had unsettled him.

“Since it’s a moot point, I don’t think we need to belabor it.”