A Sip of You (The Epicurean Series) (20 page)

How could he even ask me this after last night? Didn’t he know by now how much I wanted him? Did he think I had e-sex with just any guy? “No, I don’t want him.” I shook my head. “Not at all. Not even a little. That kiss? It
so
doesn’t matter.”

He was watching me, his expression dubious. He didn’t know if he believed me. That was fine because I had my own questions. “Want to tell me how you came by this picture? Do you have me under surveillance or something?” I couldn’t help but think of the dossiers I’d seen in William’s office. Photos and records of women he’d dated or planned to date. He’d said he’d never made one for me. But what was this? If he wasn’t keeping tabs on me, where had this come from?

“You haven’t answered all of my questions yet,” William said.

“I did answer them. I told you this photo is nothing. I want you to answer me. Are you having me followed? Are you having George or one of your other henchman make a”—I didn’t want to say
dossier
—“file on me?”

“I think you’re avoiding talking about that kiss.” He pointed to the photo on the floor, and I wished I could jump on it. Tear it up. Crumple it and throw it in the fire. But the image was in William’s mind now. It was too late.

“You want to know about the picture?” I said, hands on hips. “Then tell me about who took it and why.” God, I hoped this was just a turn in Minerva’s figurative roller coaster ride because right now I really didn’t feel so in love with William. Right now I wanted to smash him over the head with that beer bottle.

We stared at one another for a long moment. I wasn’t backing down. I wanted answers. Finally, William set his beer on the coffee table and sighed. “I’ve been having you trailed by security since Napa.”

“Since Napa? Oh my God!”

He closed his eyes. “I have my reasons. This latest Wyatt incident has made me uneasy. You’re mine, Catherine.” His gaze met mine with a look that made me go molten, even though desire was the last thing from my mind. “I haven’t hidden that fact, and I protect what’s mine. I said at my aunt and uncle’s that I had stepped up security. If it’s any consolation, I’ve had coverage on them and my cousins for the past week too.”

My head was reeling. “And were they as in the dark about it as me?”

No answer.

“Right. Of course they knew. Why didn’t you tell me?” Again! He was doing this to me again! “What is it with you, William? Why do think I can’t handle anything? Why don’t you think you can be upfront with me?”

He turned away and threaded his fingers through his hair, mussing it. “I don’t want to upset your life.” He rounded on me. “I don’t want my shit to derail your life.”

“What? Your shit is part of my life. If something is going on, I need to know.”

He shook his head, and I wasn’t even certain he’d heard me. “This is all because of me,” he said, almost to himself. “I couldn’t bear it if anything happened to you because of me.” His hands closed on my upper arms, his grip light but possessive. “You’re precious to me, Catherine. I just want to protect you.”

I wanted to fall into his arms then. I knew he was telling me the truth, or his version of it. I loved that he wanted to protect me. I didn’t love that he treated me as though I was a small child who couldn’t know about the dangers in the big, wide world. “I don’t understand. I get that you want me to be safe, but why keep me in the dark?”

He swallowed and his eyes hardened. “Because I can. And sometimes it’s better that way.” He turned away from me, and I stared at him. Was that really all he was going to say? Did he actually think that was going to satisfy me?

“It’s better? For who? For you! How are we ever going to make this work if you’re making all the decisions?”

His shoulders stiffened, but he didn’t turn to look at me. Didn’t respond.

“What haven’t you told me?” I demanded. “Are we really in danger? Have there been threats? Are they against your family? Against me?”

William reached for the beer on the table, drank again, and paced the room. I watched him. He looked like some sort of caged panther. Why did he feel so trapped? Why couldn’t he open up to me? Finally, he looked at me again. “I’ve told you everything I can at the moment. Now it’s your turn.”

“Fine.” I threw my arms out to the side. “You want the truth about that photo? It’s
nothing
. We were just saying goodbye.”

He looked at me, his eyes hard, his face slack. He was completely impassive, waiting for me to go on. When I didn’t, he said, “Are you certain it meant nothing? It sure as hell doesn’t look like nothing.”

“I drove him to the airport. He gave me a quick kiss goodbye before we got in the car. End of story.”

“Is it?” William’s pacing stalled and he turned, heading for me. “He obviously came here to see you. It’s a long trip from San Francisco, and you just saw him in Napa. What exactly was he expecting?”

My insides felt cold. I shook my head. “I have no idea.” But I knew that wasn’t going to fly. I had to say more. I shrugged. “We kind of had a falling out. I guess he wanted to try and make it right.”

William’s eyes narrowed. He was close enough now for me to smell the leather of his jacket and that other scent that was his alone. “I thought he was supportive after the accident and stuck by you.”

“He did. Yes, but…it got…complicated.”

His gaze bored into me. “How so? Did he hurt you?”

“No, nothing like that.” I had to say more. I had to, but I didn’t want to go there. I didn’t want to go into it. I’d promised myself the whole thing was over. William didn’t need to know. I closed my eyes. “He didn’t hurt me, but I hurt him.”

There was a long pause, and I finally opened my eyes. William was watching me, his face expressionless. I felt as though we were in merger negotiations, and I was on the losing side. “There’s obviously more to it than that, Catherine.” His tone was icy, his speech clipped. “Are you going to tell me or not?”

Now was the moment. I could tell him. I could reveal my deep secret. He might be pissed that Jeremy had been here and that we’d kissed, but he’d see it really was nothing. But it
wasn’t
nothing to me. What I’d done was unforgivable in my mind. It was shameful. I didn’t want to share it with him. And Beckett was right. Telling William wouldn’t change anything. It wouldn’t undo what I’d done. Finally, I put my hands on my hips. “Do you really want to talk about this?”

They were the same words William had said when I’d asked him about his history with Anya. He glared at me so long and so hard that I had to turn away. “It was a long time ago,” I said, more to myself than to him. “It doesn’t matter now.”

He said nothing, and I sneaked a peek at him. He was still glaring, his face a mask of stone. Finally he said, “Tell me.”

I looked at him, and I thought about Minerva and Hans and their fifty years. I thought about William as the little boy who had lost his family. I thought about what I’d wanted for this night, and how I’d planned to tell William I loved him. I still loved him. And I couldn’t tell him this. There were some things too awful, some secrets too shameful to share. I bit my lip to stem the tears burning behind my eyes. I did not want to cry on top of everything else. I drew a deep breath and raised my eyes to William’s. “There’s nothing more to tell. You need to trust me on this.”

How many times had he said that to me? How many times had he demanded I trust him without explanation? Now I wanted that same privilege. He could make all the demands he wanted, but I wasn’t budging. I had a right to my privacy too. I wasn’t going to be swayed by his orders and commands. This was it. I had to stand up for myself. “You have to trust me on this,” I repeated.

William sighed. “I wish I could.”

He turned without another word, strode to the door, opened it, and walked out. The door slammed closed behind him with a final thud.

I stared at my door for a full minute without moving. I couldn’t believe he’d really left. What had just happened? This was supposed to be our romantic dinner, but somehow everything had gone wrong, and we’d ended up in a fight. Again.

But this wasn’t our typical fight. Just thinking that made me cringe. How pathetic was it that we’d been together less than a month and I could already label our types of fights? This time William was the one demanding answers, and I was the one hedging. I was the one not ready to open myself up completely. I was the one who’d been left. Usually I walked away from William—more like ran away, actually. Tonight he’d walked away from me. My stomach churned and heaved, and I suddenly felt too warm. I stumbled to the kitchen table and collapsed into a chair before my knees could give out.

Were we really over now? He’d never looked so hurt. Abigail had told me he had a tender heart and I’d seen it on full display tonight. He’d been devastated that I wouldn’t answer his questions about Jeremy. My stomach churned again, and I felt my heart sink. The last thing I wanted was to wound William any more than he’d already been hurt. I should be the one buoying him up, not bringing him down. Maybe I just didn’t know how to be sensitive enough to him. I closed my eyes, seeing the pain in his gaze again. The look I remembered on his face sliced through me like a razor blade. In that moment, I hated myself. He’d told me often that he didn’t deserve me. Clearly, I was the one who didn’t deserve him. I was the one who kept fucking things up between us, so many times now it was almost laughable.

But I was heartbroken too. I couldn’t believe he was having me watched and had neglected to tell me. Who the fuck does that? I did know he had increased his security, but I’d had no idea that it had been extended to include me. His intentions might have been good, but it still felt like a total invasion of my privacy. Why couldn’t he tell me? Why couldn’t he trust
me
for once? I
knew
there was more to it than William was letting on and that scared me. What was so awful that it made him feel he had to keep me in the dark? I’d never underestimate him, but that didn’t mean I had to justify more bad behavior from him.

I went back and forth about it for what seemed like hours. Finally my head felt like it was about to explode. My stomach growled. There was no point in wasting perfectly good pizza. I nibbled on a slice, drank half a glass of wine, and blew out all the candles I’d lit. The smoky darkness in my condo matched my gloomy mood.

I brought my plate into the kitchen and caught sight of the chocolate torte on the pedestal. I wasn’t even sure William had seen it. He definitely hadn’t tasted it. Minerva would be so disappointed. All of her hard work for nothing. The smell of rich chocolate wafted toward me and, as always, I thought of William. But the cake reminded me of something Minerva had said too. She’d admitted there were times she didn’t even like Hans, but what kept them together was the commitment she’d made to love. No matter what. Had Hans ever walked out on Minerva? Had he had her followed without telling her?

I didn’t think so, but I was willing to bet both of them had made mistakes. They’d made a commitment. I wanted to commit to loving William like that, but it seemed like either he or I kept getting in the way. Maybe we just weren’t meant to be.

I lifted the torte, pulled the trash out of the pantry, and dumped the whole thing inside.

With a flick of the lights, the condo went dark and I crawled into bed alone.

***

I snapped awake when my phone dinged, alerting me I had a new text message. I glanced at the time, just before seven in the morning, and then read the text. I already knew who it would be from; no one else would text me this early. No one else I knew was awake this early.

Are you up?

No, but I needed to get up anyway.
I hit Send and sat, pushing the hair out of my eyes. I really hadn’t expected William to text me. Maybe things between us weren’t over. But I just wished we could figure out whether we were together or not. I was so tired of wondering where I stood with him.

Are you okay?

My finger hovered over the phone as I thought about my reply. Was I? Not really. I was frustrated and heartbroken and missing him already. I wanted him back, but I was tired of the drama. I started to type, changed my mind, and decided to be honest.

I don’t like fighting with you.

Neither do I.

I took a deep breath. Might as well get to the point.
I don’t like being shut out.

My words seemed to hover on the screen forever. Finally—

I understand.

I shook my head.
Do you really?

Yes, really
.

I wasn’t quite sure if I believed that. Maybe William thought he understood, but I wasn’t certain our two interpretations meshed. But should I push it more now? He decided the question for me with another text.

I don’t like you kissing other men.

He was doing his own pushing. I sighed and typed.

It didn’t mean anything.
It hadn’t meant anything more than goodbye, but I guess if I saw a picture of William kissing someone else, I wouldn’t have liked it either. I waited for his response. And waited. And waited. Finally, his reply appeared on my screen.

I know. But I still hated seeing it.

Apparently he had decided to believe me. Before I could type a reply and mention
how
he had seen it and that we really needed to talk about that, he texted again.

Your torte looked good last night.

Ah, so he was changing the subject and
had
seen my dessert. I smiled. That was William. Steering the conversation the way he wanted it to go and always thinking about food. I had other things on my mind.
So did you. I threw the torte out.

Heresy. Another cake wasted. I should have stayed.

Was he regretting walking away now? If he’d stayed, maybe we could have worked everything out before it got to this point.

I missed waking up with you.

I sighed again. He always knew how to melt my heart.
Me too.
But before he thought all was forgiven, I typed,
I’m still mad at you
.

Ditto. Truce?

I hesitated, and he must have sensed it because his next text came fast and furious.

I want you in my bed tonight. No talking. No fighting. Just us. You’re mine, remember? I need to remind you...

I knew what that meant. I closed my eyes as a delicious shiver ran through me. How could I say no to that?
What time should I come over?

***

I lounged in bed for a while longer, then got up and showered and took my time getting dressed. I was meeting with Hutch Morrison in a few hours and I wanted to look chic but effortlessly so. I checked the weather and the day was supposed to be sunny and cold, so I went with a short black metallic tweed pencil skirt, a black silk blouse, black tights, and these cute stretch, suede, over-the-knee black boots I’d picked up on sale but hadn’t worn yet because of the snow. The boots had a high heel and I knew I’d regret it if I had to walk on any icy patches, but I liked how they made me feel powerful. I put on my makeup and had just finished straight-ironing my hair when I heard a knock on the door.

“Amazing,” I muttered to myself. For the first time in days, Beckett hadn’t bailed on me. By the time I reached the door, Beckett already had it open and had stuck his head inside.

“Anybody home?”

“Come in,” I called, while Laird greeted him with yips and excited jumps.

“Look at you,” Beckett said, nodding appreciatively. “You look ready to break some hearts. Love the boots.”

“I was going for sophisticated and powerful.”

“You nailed it. I’m impressed”. Beckett eyed me from head to toe. “You look sexy and on trend and not at all like a substitute math teacher. You’ve been paying attention. Very good.”

“You’re such an ass sometimes. You know that, right?” I laughed in response as I twirled around so he could see my back.

“Honey, someone’s gotta tell you like it is and stop you from leaving the house looking like a retiree gearing up for a hot night of bingo. That’s my job, and I won’t ever let you down.” He smiled broadly. “But you don’t need me this morning, Miss Thing. You did this all on your own, and I don’t think you can help it if you break a few hearts today. You look great, Cat. Hutch Morrison’s jaw is going to
hit the floor
when he meets you. Oh yeah.”

As hot as Hutch Morrison was, I wasn’t trying to attract him. Much. “Maybe I should go with pants and a sweater instead?” I said. “I do want him to look at my work, not me.”

Beckett shook his head, making his way into my condo. “No way. He’s already seen your work, and he’s impressed. Now he wants to meet you. Trust me, Hutch Morrison is a real charmer, a ladies’ man. You’ll get further with him if he thinks you’re hot.” He glanced around my living room, a scowl crossing his face. “Cat, you haven’t even touched the mail I piled up for you when you were in Napa.”

I looked at the coffee table. “That’s not true. I put more mail on top of it.” I waved a hand. “I’ll go through it later. I’ve been busy. You know, with my
lover
and everything. I’m sure you can relate.”

Beckett had been about to sit on my couch, but he paused. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It just means you’ve been pretty busy yourself lately. You know, with your new boyfriend and your big secret, you haven’t had much time for me.”

I knew the moment I said it that it was the wrong thing to say. Beckett’s smile faded, and his eyes turned hard. “Seriously, Cat? You’re calling
me
selfish?”

I bristled. “And you’re not? How many times have you cancelled on me in the last week or so? I had to order pizza for William last night after you bailed on helping me cook.”

“Poor William. That must have been horrible for him.”

“It wasn’t, because we got in a fight and he left before eating it.”

“Of course you did. More Cat drama to add to the mountain. Grow up, Catherine. If anyone is selfish, it’s you.”

“Excuse me? How am I selfish? I ask about your life all the time. I care about you. You’re the one who won’t share with me. You’re the one with the
big secret
you can’t tell me. I don’t keep secrets from you, Beckett.”

“And we’re back to you.” Beckett ran a hand through his hair. “Guess what, Cat? Not everything is about you. How many hours of my life do you think I’ve spent listening to your problems? I’ve heard you go over the thing that happened with Jeremy a thousand times. At least!”

My jaw dropped. “Well, maybe after Jace died, you should have just told me to snap out of it and I wouldn’t have gotten together with Jeremy in the first place!”

“That’s where you’re wrong. Jace dying was a big deal, Cat, but the thing with Jeremy wasn’t. It’s long over and done with. Why are you still holding on to it?”

“I’m not.” But my face must have betrayed me because Beckett raised a brow.

“Oh really? What did you and William fight about last night?”

“Fuck you,” I said. Sometimes I hated it when Beckett was right.

“That’s what I thought. This Jeremy thing has never been the big deal you think it is, Cat. You’ve turned it into something it’s not so you can feel bad about it and give yourself another reason why you don’t deserve to be happy.”

I stood there, stunned, breathing hard and feeling my chest constrict. I clenched and unclenched my fists as I kept my gaze on Beckett. There was no hint of a smile on his face, and I could tell he was really angry with me. I was mad too. It had been a long time since we’d had a fight like this.

Beckett was standing right in front of me now, his eyes blazing, his body tight with tension. “You complain about William not opening up, but you know what Jeremy is? He’s the excuse
you
use to keep
yourself
closed off, to keep yourself emotionally protected. You’re terrified of anyone knowing the real you. The real you who makes mistakes but doesn’t think she deserves forgiveness. The real you who can’t admit she wants to be loved.”

“That’s not true,” I whispered. But it was. I knew, deep down, that Beckett was right. He always saw straight through me.

“It is true. You spend so much time convincing yourself that you’re so awful and that you don’t deserve to be loved that you push the people who do love you away. You know what I think? If you really think that way about yourself, then you should spare us all the pain of prolonging this relationship and end it with William Lambourne now.”

“What? I can’t believe you’re saying this. That’s not what I want.”

“Really? Are you sure about that, Cat? I’m saying it because I see what you don’t. William really cares about you.” Beckett nodded even as I shook my head. “You’re torturing him. And what you’re doing to him isn’t fair. “

“What
I’m
doing isn’t fair? Like
he
tells
me
everything? Why are you defending him anyway? You’re supposed to be on my side.”

Beckett grabbed my shoulders lightly. “You are such an idiot sometimes.”

“Let go!”

He ignored me. “There are no sides, don’t you see that? I’m trying to help you understand how lucky you are.” He shook me gently. “Do you get how lucky you are? I mean, most of us struggle to find love just once. But you—” He released me and stepped away, then pointed at me accusingly. “You’ve got a second chance! What are you thinking? That the
third
time will be the charm? I don’t think those odds are very good.”

I shook my head. My thoughts were spinning now, moving wildly. Beckett was starting to make a lot of sense. And what did that say about me? That I was an idiot? That I was selfish? But maybe, I thought, because I had found love before I knew how it should feel, what it should be. “I do think I’m lucky,” I said to Beckett.

“Well, hallelujah! An epiphany,” he sang mockingly.

I scowled at him. “But that doesn’t mean I have to excuse William when he completely shuts me out.”