Break of Day (9 page)

Something snapped within me. Anger, mixed with embarrassment, mixed with horrifying fear.

“That's not funny,” I shot back at him. “Not fucking funny at all.”

Piper! Where's your brother?

Where the hell is your brother?

My eyes darted around for the valet, adrenaline racing like ice water through my veins. I had to get out of here. Before I embarrassed myself further. Before he realized how pathetic I really was. What was I thinking, coming here with him in the first place? I should have kept my distance, stayed professional. Not put myself in situations where I'd end up acting like a crazy girl.

“I've got to go,” I choked out, tears pricking at my eyes. Before he could reply, I pivoted on my heel to head back to
the valet. Needing to find my car, needing to get out of there as quickly as possible. But, I soon realized, the valet had already taken my car away, probably to avoid the ugly, beat-up thing offending the other guests.

“Piper . . .”

I could hear the concern in Asher's voice, but I ignored it, running over to the attendant at the podium, grabbing at his sleeve. “Excuse me? Excuse me?” I cried, the tears now splashing down my cheeks. Great. Now I looked like a psycho as well as a charity case. I could only hope they didn't speed-dial the cops. “I need my car back.”

“Piper! Get back here!”

Rough hands grabbed me, jerking me backward. Only then did I realize I'd almost gotten myself run over by a second car. I tried to squirm away from my rescuer but Asher held me tight, my back pressed at his chest, his hands locked around my waist. I could feel his heartbeat pounding against my back. His hot breath at my neck.

“Let me go,” I whispered.

“No. Not until you calm down and tell me what the hell is wrong.”

I shut my eyes, sucking in a breath. “Please,” I whimpered. “I just want to go home.”

“Okay. I'll drive you.”

“No. My car—”

“I'll have someone bring it to you. You are clearly in no shape to get behind the wheel.”

I could feel my resolve slipping. My body, desperate to absorb his strength, even as my mind wanted to pull away.

“Piper.” His voice was in my ear now, raspy and pleading. “Please let me take care of you.”

Somehow I managed to nod, the fight going out of me, my shoulders collapsing. Asher led me over to a nearby bench then sat me down. Once I was settled, he ran over to the attendant and whispered something in his ear, before returning to me. Then, he sat down beside me, peering at me with those beautiful emerald eyes of his. And a face filled with concern.

“They're going to get my car,” he informed me. “And when they do, I'll take you home.” He paused for a moment, drawing in a breath. “But, Piper, please. Can you at least tell me what I did wrong?”

I stared down at my hands. They were clenched into fists. White knuckles stretched over bone. I didn't want to tell him. I really didn't want to tell him. But what choice did I have?

“I'm afraid of the ocean,” I blurted out at last.

“Okay . . .”

I looked up, surprised, my eyes blurry with tears. “Okay?” I said doubtfully.

He shrugged. “Okay,” he repeated. “You're afraid of the ocean. That's all you had to say.”

I stared at him, relief washing over me in waves, and I allowed myself to take a shaky breath as I absorbed his words. Okay. It was going to be okay. I was going to be okay.

Suddenly
okay
felt like the most magical word in the English language and I almost laughed out loud in relief.

I didn't know what I had expected from him. More jokes, maybe. A little incredulity? Perhaps disappointment, probably disgust. But now, as I looked into Asher's eyes—his beautiful storm-tossed eyes—I saw none of the above. Nothing but concern swimming in their depths. The Joker was taking me seriously.

I forced myself to unclench my fists.

“So . . . at the wedding,” Asher added in a hesitant voice, as if he didn't want to push me, “was this the real reason you freaked out?”

I nodded reluctantly, feeling my face burn in embarrassment from the memory. “Which is so stupid, I know,” I said. “I mean, I wasn't in any danger whatsoever—and I totally knew it. And yet, I couldn't help it. All I could think about was . . .”

I clamped my mouth shut. I wasn't ready to talk about that part yet. Not with him anyway.

I waited for him to press me, to encourage me to spill the rest of the story. But to my surprise, instead, he pulled me
into his arms. Part of me wanted to protest, to jerk away and put distance between us. But at the same time he felt so warm, so good. And so I found myself nudging closer instead, against my better judgment. Cradling my head against his chest, feeling his strong, steady heartbeat against my ear. Allowing him to stroke my hair with a gentle hand, his fingers weaving through the strands, sending chills down to my toes. His other hand remained securely clasped at my waist, keeping me flush against him. I closed my eyes, breathing in his musky, soapy scent.

If this was wrong, I didn't want to be right.

“I feel like a moron,” I mumbled after a few moments. “You obviously went to great lengths to plan this whole thing. And I'm sure it must have cost a fortune.” I lifted my head. “Maybe you should go inside and see if there are any hot girls in there, hankering for a cruise.”

He laughed. “Is that what you think of me, Red?” he asked. “That I'm the type of guy ready to trade out his dates halfway through?”

I blushed. “But this isn't a date,” I reminded him. “We're just . . . coworkers.”

“Well, I don't switch out my coworkers either, sweetheart. I asked you to dinner. And we're going to have dinner.”

I looked up, eyes wide. “But I can't . . . the boat . . .”

“I know,” he assured me. “And if you want to go home, I'll take you home now. But I did sort of have another idea . . .”

I cocked my head in question. “What do you mean?”

He rose to his feet, holding out his hand. “Do you trust me?”

I paused, looking down at his hand. It was a loaded question, not that he would know that. I didn't trust anyone. Not after the way I'd grown up. Trust meant making yourself vulnerable. Allowing people to hurt you. As I'd said to Jayden, I'd realized long ago the only person you could truly trust was yourself.

But I wasn't going to get into all that now. And I was admittedly curious about this alternate plan he'd cooked up. So I placed my hand in his, allowing him to pull me to my
feet, trying to ignore the sparks of electricity that crackled as our palms connected.

“This way, m'lady,” he said grandly.

I followed him around the restaurant, noting with appreciation how he chose to go the way that was further from the sea. As we came around the corner, my eyes caught sparkling Christmas lights decorating a small gazebo. Under the gazebo was a table with a white linen tablecloth, candles, and place settings for two.

Asher turned to me, a questioning look on his face. “What do you think?” he asked. “If you sit here, you can have your back completely to the water. You can pretend you're in Kansas or something. Completely landlocked.”

I shook my head, marveling. “When did you set this up?” I started to ask. Then I remembered him whispering to the attendant. I thought he was getting his car. But clearly he had had other plans.

His eyes sparkled. “I figured you didn't want to go into the restaurant. So why not have the restaurant come out to you?”

I smiled at him. “You didn't have to go through all this trouble.”

“Please. I love trouble. I live for trouble.” He laughed. “Now sit, woman. And let's have this dinner you promised me.”

So we did. And a few minutes later three waiters appeared, carrying silver trays of food. They set them down in front of us and pulled off the lids, revealing an absolute feast underneath. Shiny lobsters and thick cuts of steak. Huge baked potatoes, buttery asparagus. I let out a low whistle.

“Think this will do?” Asher asked. “I didn't know what you liked to eat, so I ordered a little bit of everything.”

“Uh, yeah. This will more than do.” In fact, I wasn't sure I'd ever seen such a feast in my life.

“Excellent. Then my work here is done.” He waited for the waiters to fill our water glasses, then held out his in a toast. “To my new producer,” he said. “Who has the amazing superpower of getting my ass out of bed at a decent hour.”

I giggled, grabbing my own glass. “To my new weatherman,” I said. “For showing me the ropes.”

“To my producer,” Asher added, “for managing to not fall asleep during the aforementioned showing of ropes.”

We clinked glasses and drank our water. The cold liquid quenched my parched throat and I let out a long breath. Here in the privacy of the gazebo, away from the churning sea, I was starting to relax, my panic subsiding and my stomach warming.

“Honestly,” I said, “I found the whole Weather 101 lesson really interesting,” I told him. “I mean, I love the idea that you can take all this information and mash it together and get this bigger picture. Like a big weather puzzle, I guess.”

“That's how my dad used to always describe it,” Asher agreed. “But when I was a kid, I used to think it was magic. I mean, we could be standing out in a perfectly blue-skied day and he'd open an umbrella. And lo and behold five minutes later the storm would roll in and everyone would be soaked—except for him.” He laughed. “He was so good at his job. And he loved it, too. It wasn't just a job for him, you know? It was his passion.”

“He sounds like a great guy,” I said. “And he must be proud of you, too. Following in his footsteps and all.”

Asher didn't reply at first and I watched as a shadow seemed to flicker over his face—just as it had earlier in the day when he'd brought up his dad. But just as I was about to question it, he shook his head and it was gone, as if it had never been there at all.

“So what's your deal with the water, anyway?” he asked, clearly wanting to change the subject. “Were you always afraid of it? Like, since you were a kid?”

I shrugged. “Pretty much.”

“Did something happen? Something to scare you away?”

I set my fork down, staring at my plate.

“Sorry,” Asher said quickly. “I shouldn't have asked. We don't have to—”

“My brother drowned,” I blurted out, before I even really realized I was doing it. “In the ocean. When I was six.”

Asher's eyes widened in horror as I knew they would. As everyone's did when they heard the tragic tale. And he didn't even know the half of it. I felt my cheeks heat, waiting for the follow-up questions that were guaranteed to come. The ones that always came and that I could never truthfully answer.

Stupid Piper. Truly stupid.

What was I thinking, telling him this? I could have made up another excuse—any excuse. Like I'd seen
Jaws
too many times at an impressionable age. That jellyfish scared the shit out of me. Salt water made my skin turn green. Something—anything—except the truth.

But it was too late now.

“What happened?” Asher asked cautiously.

“He was playing in the ocean,” I said, repeating the story as I'd done a thousand times before—to police officers, EMTs, reporters. “Evidently he got caught up in a riptide or something that dragged him out to sea. He was only four—he couldn't really swim. They”—I swallowed hard—“found his body three days later—washed up on the shore a few miles away.”

And it was my fault
, I added silently, feeling the familiar lump rise to my throat.
Completely my fault.

“I'm so sorry, Piper,” Asher said, his voice filled with sympathy. He reached across the table, taking my hand in his. I hadn't realized how cold my skin had gotten until I felt his warm palm cover mine. “I can't even imagine.”

I gritted my teeth together. “Well, anyway, it was a long time ago,” I muttered. It took everything I had not to pull my hand away. To deny myself the comfort he wanted to give me. Comfort I didn't deserve.

I could feel his eyes on me, intense, searching. “I'm sure that's not something that's easy to get over,” he said quietly. “No matter how long ago it was. When I almost lost my father . . .” He trailed off. Then he shook his head. “Anyway, the water thing—it makes perfect sense. You shouldn't be embarrassed about it. Most people in your situation would probably feel the same.”

I could feel the tears springing in the corners of my eyes
again. I squeezed them shut, trying to will them away. It was killing me how rational he was being about the whole thing. How kind. It was almost too much to bear. If only he knew the whole story. He wouldn't be looking at me like this. With such sympathy in his eyes. He'd be looking at me with disgust.

The revulsion I deserved.

I swallowed hard, pushing back in my chair with a little too much force, causing it to crash to the ground. A waiter appeared immediately, asking if I was all right. He looked disdainfully at the chair, as if it itself was to blame for my actions.

“Are you okay?” Asher asked, rising to his feet. “Is it the ocean? We can go inside . . .”

I glanced over at the yacht club. Even from here I could see the chandeliers, dripping with crystals. The suits. The cocktail dresses. The warm woods and the bright lights. The pretty people.

Asher's people. Asher's world.

Another planet. Another solar system.

“I'm sorry,” I said. “I'm just . . . tired. Can we try this another time?”

Or, you know, like, never again?

“Of course.” Without hesitation he was at my side, escorting me back to the valet. Behind us, the waiters converged to take the plates away. Asher didn't even acknowledge them. His attention was totally on me. I wondered what it must be like to live in such a world. Where you could waltz through life, never looking behind at the mess you made. At what you left others to clean up.