BorntobeWild (18 page)

“Hey, Gil, do you need a break?” Cyn had turned around, so
she hadn’t seen who’d just entered the store. The doorbell to the shop jangled.
She enjoyed the sound, deliberately old-fashioned and welcoming. She had her
head down, putting away the pieces of tiger’s-eye she’d laid out, so she didn’t
realize who had entered.

When she heard the deathly silence, or rather the absence of
sound, she realized who had come in. She’d been expecting his arrival for
weeks. Dreading it.

Riku hadn’t contacted her except for a brief call to ensure
she’d arrived home safely. “Home” still being the apartment in Tribeca. She
loved it now, would find it a wrench to leave but she’d have to. Because
although she was doing well she wasn’t doing well enough to buy a glass
penthouse topping a historic building.

She’d spent some of the time when she wasn’t working by
apartment hunting and she had a shortlist of three but had dithered about
moving out. It meant breaking ties. However brave she’d seemed in Las Vegas she
hadn’t felt it on her own. Maddy and Janey had taken her out, clubs for Maddy,
theater for Janey, and she’d enjoyed it but her managers had their own lives.
She had to go home sometime. Decide what to do with the rest of her life.

Both she and Riku had downplayed the separation in public
but the media had played merry hell with it. People waited outside the
apartment and she hadn’t been out the front door since her first day. She used
the rear entrance. While she hated sneaking about she appreciated the necessity
if she was to get to work on time.

Gil came up behind her. “You want me to leave you guys
alone?”

She shook her head. “Not here.”

Riku nodded. She couldn’t read anything from his face. He
didn’t even seem pleased to see her. He appeared ordinary, if a pair of
close-fitting jeans, a vintage, probably valuable Led Zeppelin T-shirt and a
light jacket. January had turned into February, windy and brisk but not as cold
as when they last met.

He looked almost normal. Dark hair, straight as rain,
cheekbones sharp enough to cut paper on, a powerful, imposing build and the
charisma he could never hide. He wasn’t trying now. He waited for her to
acknowledge his presence, patient, as if he could stand there all day. His pose
was easy, relaxed but the impression left her when she met his eyes.

Stark desire lived there. More, she saw want and need and
her first thought was of how brave he was to expose himself like that. Because
nobody could mistake his expression. If she rejected him they’d witness his
response and his retreat. He’d go if she told him to.

How could she? She’d missed him so very much and she had to
talk to him.

“You take over, Gil. You can do it.”

“I know I can.”

She’d spent the last two weeks training him and watching him
work, ever since she’d realized the perfect replacement manager was right under
her nose, already working as the assistant in the store. Gil was more than
ready but she hadn’t wanted to leave. Then she’d have to fill in her time. She
couldn’t design, could only spend a certain amount of time in the other shops,
now well run, and then what? Spend her days as she spent her nights, worrying,
crying, being a complete fucking mess?

Riku had forced her into making realizations she’d been
dodging ever since they’d reconnected. The separation had forced them into her.

Her thoughts scattered, all the things she’d planned to say
disappeared. Would he want to sleep at the apartment? It did belong to him,
after all.

“Do you want to go back?”

He nodded. “Let’s go home.”

He waited while she collected her jacket and purse from the
back office. She stayed there long enough to gather her stuff and take a few
deep but shaky breaths. Like high noon on Main Street in all those old westerns.
This was the day of reckoning. She couldn’t tell from his expression what he
wanted, what he’d decided but she must have been as easy to read as a baby. He’d
shocked her so much with his sudden appearance.

She left the office and went to him.

“You’ve got the bridge, Gil.” She tried to smile at her new
manager and he rewarded her with a wide beam, probably delighted she was
leaving the store to him at last. “I don’t know if I’ll come back today.”

“Take your time.”

When she moved past Riku he touched the small of her back to
guide her as he’d always done. It scared her how much that gesture meant to
her. She moved forward a little faster but so did he, fast enough to open the
door before she could get to it. The familiar jangle didn’t do anything to
soothe her nerves but at least in the fresh air she could get her breath.

“I have a cab waiting outside. I’m getting better at this
incognito shit but I’m not that good,” he grumbled as he tapped on the window.
The driver must have known where to go, because as soon as they were in he took
off, weaving through the traffic to reach the lane he wanted then swinging
around the corner.

He kept his mouth clamped shut as they turned onto Seventh
and the driver began to snake his way through the traffic in the direction of
Tribeca. Nobody could call New York traffic light, whatever the time of day but
at this time, 3:00 p.m., it wasn’t too bad. Cyn always used the subway to get
to work or the bus. She had to admit the location was much more convenient than
her previous apartment.

The occasional scent of him on a towel or a pillow in the
living room haunted her. If she closed her eyes she could pretend he was just
out of sight but there. She’d gone through the books, found some well-loved
ones, some hardly breached, looked at the programs set to record on the TV,
mostly music-related but a few cop dramas.

All reminders of Riku, the man she loved but couldn’t
approach until he came to her. She didn’t know how.

“How are your ribs?” he said abruptly.

“Fine.” The bruises had gone and only the occasional twinge
reminded her of the sharp pain that had haunted her every movement a month
before. Working in the store hadn’t proved so bad after all, if she never moved
too quickly. “I saw the doctor last week and I have a final X-ray due in a few
days.”

“Glad to hear it.” His gaze strayed to her side, as if he
could see through her coat and sweater to the site of the damage. He shook his
head and went back to gazing out the window. New York usually took her mind of
her worries. She’d sat for hours staring out the windows in the apartment,
letting her mind wander in speculation about the people behind the windows
opposite, or walking in the street. Respite for the fear and guilt that dogged
her every waking thought and her sleeping ones too. Once she’d been deathly
afraid of depression but this time it hadn’t come to envelop her in its dark,
smothering blanket. No sign. Just sadness, grief and worry that she’d blown it
for real. Anxiety to get this done, to make the necessary decisions they needed
to go on with their lives, one way or another.

Nobody who lived here should drive, she thought savagely as
the lights changed on them for the second time. The third time they got through
and she saw a couple of people hanging around the entrance to the apartment. “There
they are.”

“Are they here day and night?” He sounded calm but she knew
better. That tone of voice, the coolness, indicated his efforts at control.

“More or less. I go out the back way. There aren’t so many
now but I still take care.”

“Not today.” The car stopped and after paying the driver he
got out of his side and rounded the hood to open her door. “Let the bastards
see whatever they want. I won’t go creeping about like I have no right to be
here.”

He waited. Given little choice she exited the car. He
grasped her hand, warm, firm, just as it always was and she wanted to cry. The
urge came on her sudden, fast and ugly and she didn’t know if she could hold it
together.

Riku waited for her. That gave the reporters time to
approach them. “Go away, guys,” he said. “Just leave.”

The two, one man, one woman, made enough noise for six
people but Riku ignored them. He stepped in front of her so they couldn’t see
her. “All right now?”

He’d seen the tear glimmering on her cheek, the one she hadn’t
stopped. After two deep breaths, she was ready. “Okay, fine. Let’s go.”

Retaining his clasp on her hand, he strode forward, the
reporters buzzing around him like irritating wasps. Just before the main door
he stopped and faced them, used his free hand to drag something from under his
T-shirt.

The necklace, the one he’d bought that day, so long ago, it
seemed to her now. Flashes went off. Why, in broad daylight, she had no idea.
Neither did she care. “My wife designed this,” he said. “She’s a talented
designer. That, guys, is your only quote.”

Urging her forward, they got inside and the concierge
snapped the electronic locks closed. “Have they been trouble?” Riku asked him
on their way past.

The man shrugged. “Liven up the day sometimes. I never talk
to them apart from telling them to go away.”

“I know. I’d have heard if you hadn’t.”

So he would. Through the media. He’d been watching. Probably
as avidly as she watched him, although he’d played it cool and the press,
probably seeing her as the weaker partner, had homed in on her instead. Riku
had gone to work, returned to his Chicago apartment, left for work the next
morning. No nightclubs, the occasional dinner out, usually with one or more
members of the band. Circumspect but if he’d wanted to mess around he could
have done so. She didn’t think he had, not for a moment, which was odd,
considering his reputation before she’d reentered his life.

The elevator arrived and the doors slid smoothly open.

They entered the small space and stood as far apart as they
could. Too close to him would hurt, since she couldn’t hold him. Didn’t have
the right to kiss him anymore.

“I’ve never taken it off,” he said.

Slowly she lifted her gaze to his. “What did you say?”

“I’ve worn this necklace since you walked out on me.”

“I told you. I didn’t walk out on you, I gave us both some
space.”

“I know. That’s the only reason I stayed away. You needed
space and time. You panicked.”

He paused, slid his card through the slot. The door slid
open without a sound and he stood back for her to go inside. It closed on them
with the finality of a resolution chord.

Cyn covered the resultant awkward pause by dumping her
jacket and purse on the nearest chair and crossing the floor in the direction
of the kitchen. “Tea or coffee?”

She never got as far as putting the kettle on the hob.

“Cyn.” He’d followed her, stood in the doorway. “Never mind
that. Come and talk. Let’s talk, really talk.”

She wanted him to hold her hand again. “Okay.” She followed
him to the living room and took the blue sofa in the conversation arrangement. Ignoring
the green one opposite, he sat next to her but it was a big couch with plenty
of room for three, much less two. They didn’t touch.

“You killed me that day but you were right about some things.
We needed time apart.” He leaned forward, rested his elbows on his knees and
stared at the picture outside the huge windows. “I love this city. Grew up
here. I never tell it so. Take it for granted. Maybe I did that to you.” He
swung his gaze around to her. “Did I?”

“Never.” Not in all the time they’d known each other,
although the institute had rushed them both into their careers, into working.
They’d still found time to spend together.

He pushed a hand through his hair, ruffling the
espresso-dark strands. “I made so many mistakes, Cyn. I should have come home
when you didn’t join me in Paris but my tutors were pushing me to work harder,
practice more. I was on the cusp, they said. That was when I realized my mother
had got to them. Probably awarded a scholarship or something to give them an
incentive to force me over the last hurdle. She wanted first class, you see.
Typical. By then I knew I’d never make it. My heart wasn’t in it either. I’m
not sure it would have been had I made the grade. I wanted something different.”

He turned his head and his dark gaze bored into her, compelling
her to hear him, to really listen. “Do you know how obscene those words—
good
and
solid
—can be?”

She shook her head. “Sorry, no.” Was he talking to keep them
busy, to steady them both? If so she had to admire his tactics because they
were working. Her reason returned, all the things she’d thought about, the
factors that kept her awake nights. Along with a bed far too big for one
person.

“No, you wouldn’t because you were brilliant. Even I
recognized that. Do you remember what we talked about before I left? That you
were headed for the great opera houses of the world and maybe I should have
become an accompanist so I could be with you? I was half-serious. Thinking
about it, anyway. I knew by then I’d never make it to the top of the classical
world. I thought it was a lack of ambition but I’ve met artists who do it
without trying, without considering it. It’s a job. It gets them where they
want to be. It was never that for me.

“I failed, Cyn. I had to face that. Zazz taught me about
self-pity and how destructive it is, because he’s never let himself go there.
The rest you know.” He huffed a laugh. “The rest of the world knows, or it
thinks it does.” He moved, lifted his hand, then put it on the seat next to
him. Had he meant to reach for her?

“So you see,” he said, “I’ve been thinking. I knew my first
mistake. I should have contacted you back then. I still believed you were in
Germany but when I called the institute they told me you’d left. They had no
idea what you were doing. Just not music. I called people we knew and they
didn’t know either. Before I came to New York I spotted your picture in a
magazine. Remember the article?”