Save the Date (9 page)

“You should go.” I stood, picked up my plate, then carried it to the kitchen. “She seems nice.”

For a girl who was using some kind of legal jam to make a date with a hot lawyer.

He came up behind me, and leaned over my shoulder, so his mouth was close to my ear. “I’d rather go out with you,” he said.

My heart flipped, but then I remembered the weird look Ethan made when I’d handed him the phone and wondered what he was hiding. “I’m not dating right now.”

His eyes searched mine. “I’ll wait until you’re ready. What do you think I’ve been doing the last four months?”

I gaped at him. “Are you saying . . .?”

“That I’m crazy about you? Yes.” He stepped forward, then lifted my chin with his finger. “And you feel the same way about me.”

My heart pounded in my chest. “What makes you say that?”

He tilted his head, his eyes gazing at me with all their intensity. “You told me when a girl worth dating liked me, I’d know. Save a real date for me, Kristen. Friday night.”

A rush of dizziness overtook me, and I grabbed onto the island countertop to steady myself. “I already told you I can’t go through the turmoil again.”

He slipped his hands around my waist. “It wouldn’t be like that with us.”

“I don’t know that.” I stepped back, feeling like he was asking me to walk the plank with a herd of man-eating sharks circling below. That red and white life preserver wouldn’t do much to save my heart from being ripped apart. “It’s too much, Ethan. I’ve already told you.”

His expression tensed. “Kristen—”

“It’s getting late and I have to work early.” My throat tightened. “Do you still want to show me the secret?”

His eyes focused on me, dark, and intense. “You’re the only person I’ve ever wanted to show.”

And, with that, he led me to his bedroom.

****

The secret was a person, I decided. Although, technically, it was a thing. Ethan’s face rose from the marble block, as if trying to break free of a prison, determination and focus in every muscle. He stared back at me with that look of his—simmering and intense—his expression frozen forever in luminous, white marble.

I ran my finger along his strong cheekbone—cold, hard, smooth. “It’s beautiful.”

“My mother’s family worked for the Medici dynasty in Florence and in Rome.” Ethan’s voice filled with emotion. “Michelangelo’s creativity had been repressed while painting the Sistine Chapel. The history behind this sculpture is that he’d taken a liking to one of the Medici gardeners—and sculpted him from pure inspiration.”

“Michelangelo?” Amazing. This sculpture rivaled the face of Michelangelo’s David. Literally. I stared at the timeless, handsome man in awe. “What was the gardener’s name?”

“Giovanni, which means John in English. ” Ethan’s voice tightened. “My full name is John Ethan Harrison.”

Tears filled my eyes, unable to believe something this breathtaking had been hidden away for hundreds of years. “You said there’s a question of who owns it?”

“Michelangelo gifted it to Giovanni. The Carrara marble he used to sculpt it? May or may not have been given to Michelangelo by the Medici family.” Ethan shrugged. “Even if we could prove Michelangelo owned the marble, what evidence do we have that he gave it to Giovanni? A poor servant?”

I traced around the eyes. “He looks just like you.”

Ethan nodded. “Even if that could help in court, and I’m not saying it would, if word got out, I’d never be able to keep it here at home.”

“Where it belongs.” I sighed. “You were right about the secret. I do love it.”

“I’m right about other things, too.” He peered at me, with those Giovanni eyes. “Give us a chance, Kristen. A real date. Tomorrow night.”

My heart wanted to scream yes, but my head made me pull back. “You should go out with Amanda.”

A flicker of hurt crossed his face. “You’d be fine if I did?”

I’d be crushed, but I couldn’t tell him that. Then he’d know how close I was to caving, and I needed to stay strong. Time to go.

I slipped my purse over my shoulder, then headed toward the front door. “I’ll be focusing on me, and starting a new career.”

“A career you won’t care about.” He bit out, surprising me with his harsh tone.

I whirled around. “That’s not true,” I said, although deep inside I had doubts.

His forehead creased. “Your belong in counseling, and you’re running away from the profession you love, just like you’re running away from me.”

My voice tightened. “I’m not running away from anything.”

More like walking at a fast pace.

He shook his head. “Don’t turn your back on what you care about because of that dirtbag. You have a passion for therapy, Kristen. Fight for it. Fight for those people who need you.”

“Goodnight, Ethan.” Without glancing back at him, I slipped outside, and yanked the door shut behind me. I hurried to my car, drove home, and my eyes burned the entire way.

As I pulled into my garage and parked, the ache in my chest grew bigger and bigger until it overpowered me. I dropped my head on the steering wheel and unleashed the pain, hot tears streaming down my face as I sobbed.

Ethan’s words were a grisly reminder of everything I couldn’t have. Didn’t he get that I
wanted
to counsel? But, my clients deserved a counselor who could help them, not someone who doubted herself.

Remaining in my car until my eyes were dry and raw, I watched each hour pass on the clock, as Ethan’s brutal comments circled my brain. I’d always been a woman who strove for what she wanted, not ran from it. I had to find a way to be her again.

Unfortunately, I hadn’t the first clue how to do that.

****

Thursday night had been a nightmare, and Friday morning felt like a horrifying sequel. I’d withdrawn my acceptance letter for the H.R. position. By noon, Chloe had interviewed Kaitlin, run a background check, and hired her.

Kaitlin and Chloe were ecstatic.

Unfortunately, for me, Chloe had contacted the new permanent receptionist last night and coaxed her into starting Monday morning, earlier than she’d previously been able to. So, I was out of my temp job. To say I was stressed, would be putting it mildly.

Everything hung on my Career Crush results now.

Noah had agreed to let me use his office during the lunch hour again, so I rode the elevator up, then knocked on his door.

“Come in,” he called out.

“Hey.” I slipped my head in, wondering why he hadn’t left for lunch yet. “Is it still all right to use your office for my career counseling class?”

My last test. Then, I’d find out how to move on with my life.

“Yes.” He leaned back in his office chair, hands folded across his lap. “But first, would you close the door? I need to talk to you.”

His tone sounded tense.

Concerned, I shut the door, then took a seat in front of his desk. “What’s going on?”

His blue eyes peered at me, and I noticed the deep circles under them. “Rach and I had a huge fight last night.”

I cringed. “I’m sorry.”

He raked his hands through his hair. “She’s upset about my dinner with Kate, and I thought of canceling it. If seeing my ex makes Rach that uncomfortable, then it’s just not worth it. You know?”

Yeah, but I didn’t know Mr. Sports Man had a sensitive side. “Good idea. Call it off.”

He steepled his hands in front of his chest. “I was going to, but then you told me I should examine my own motivations.”

I knew I shouldn’t ask, but the deep-seated counselor inside me couldn’t resist. “What were your motivations?”

“Next weekend is our two-month anniversary and I wanted to take Rach someplace special.” He looked a little shy about telling me that, which I actually found kind of adorable. “But I paid cash for the boat and I’m saving for a house.”

Good with finances.
And
sensitive. Huh. Impressive.

“A friend told me Kate was coming to Sac, so I called her to see if she could give me a deal on a weekend getaway through her work. She said to come by the hotel for dinner and she’d have some packages for me to choose from.”

Confused, I tilted my head. “She knows you have a girlfriend?”

“Of course.” He sounded surprised I’d asked. “Kate gets luxury deals dirt-cheap. So, after talking to you, I figured my motivations were good so I should go through with the dinner. Now, I’m not so sure.”

Uh, I’d worried he’d been planning a hot hook-up on the side. He’d really been arranging a romantic weekend for Rach? Oh, the guilt hit me. It hit me hard.

My face went numb. “Noah, that’s so . . . thoughtful.”

“Right?” His brows came together then. “I can understand it being a little awkward with my ex coming around—although Kate doesn’t hold a candle to Rach—but, she freaked out last night like she doesn’t trust me. And, I have to say, that really hurt.”

And like that, I realized, I’d done a very bad thing.

“Um, Noah?” I swallowed. “Rach did want to talk to you about her insecurities. I kind of encouraged her not to.”

His jaw went slack. “Why would you do that?”

I felt nauseous, but I owed Noah the truth. “You were cozying up to your ex at a hotel. Come on, Noah. You
know
how that looked. I didn’t want her to get blindsided like I did.”

His eyes went wide, like he’d found out his favorite baseball player had been transferred. “You thought I’d cheat on Rach?”

I swallowed, not liking the answer.

He shook his head. “That’s what you think of me?”

“No. It’s not.” My voice was firm. It’s what I
knew
about Jake. And I’d applied it to every guy since I’d left him. My throat tightened, ashamed at the trouble I’d caused. “I’m sorry, Noah.”

He didn’t answer, just brushed past the desk, and out of the office, closing the door behind him. I didn’t know if Noah would forgive me, but I had to find a way to make things right between Rach and him.

Sitting alone in Noah’s office, I pulled my cell from my purse, and considered phoning Ethan for advice. Then, I stopped myself. What if he’d already called Amanda to go on that date? I wasn’t sure I could take that.

Besides, I needed to clean up this mess on my own.

So, I texted Rach:
Drinks. 5pm. Just you and me. I’m buying.

Chapter Seven

Rach curled up on the sofa next to me, in the lounge of the downtown Sheraton Grand. A gentleman took our drink orders, then she checked her watch. “I’ve decided to return my new night vision binoculars.”

My eyes bulged. “Night vision goggles?”

She nodded. “Noah’s dinner with his ex is tonight. I wanted to follow him, and prove he’s not playing around on me.”

Guilt seeped in. “What changed your mind?”

“We had this huge fight last night.” She slumped, the corners of her mouth turning down. “I, um, kind of insinuated that something might be going on between him and Kate.”

I sucked in a breath, knowing how much her accusation had hurt Noah. “What’d he say?”

Tears filled her eyes. “He left my apartment, without a word, then ignored me all day. I wouldn’t be surprised if he never talked to me again. And I don’t blame him.”

“Oh, Rach.” I put my hand over hers.

She shook her head. “I don’t like him having dinner with his ex, but he would never cheat on me. I handled this all wrong.”

Feeling guilty, my throat tightened. “This is my fault.”

Her brows quirked. “You’ve done nothing but try to help me.”

I shook my head, knowing that wasn’t true. “You were feeling insecure, and you came to me for advice. I should’ve encouraged you to start a dialogue with Noah. Open up and ask the hard questions. That’s what intimacy is about.”

A light bulb flashed above my head, and, suddenly, I knew this was exactly where I’d gone wrong with Jake. I’d never put my feelings out there by asking him things like: 1) How much freaking space does one person need?; 2) Why are your friends always too busy for me to meet them (ditto on family)?; and 3) Is a holiday together really so much to ask for after eight months? If I’d spoken up, maybe I would’ve gotten a clue that half his free time was booked because he spent it with another woman.

It felt so painfully obvious now. Sigh. “Instead of advising that you talk to Noah, I suggested that he could be like Jake. My paranoia must’ve rubbed off on you. I’m really sorry, Rach.”

The waiter brought our drinks over, set them down, then disappeared.

Rachel’s jaw tightened. “I was hurt that you didn’t believe in Noah, but you didn’t make me insecure. I did that on my own.”

I raised a brow.

She sighed. “I’m not saying your paranoia was particularly helpful. But, like you said, I should’ve talked to Noah about how I felt. Instead, I went crazy trying to prove my insecurities were unfounded.”

Ding! Ding!

The sound of my phone jerked me out of the conversation, and my heart skipped a beat. Maybe Ethan was texting me because he’d decided not to go on that date with Amanda.

I whipped my phone out, then flicked my finger across the screen, only to find a text from Noah:
Is Rach with you? She’s not answering her cell, and I need to talk to her.

“Something wrong?” Rach asked.

“It’s Noah.” I showed her my cell screen, then texted him back:
Yes. I’ll tell her.

With a wide-eyed stare, she picked up her drink, guzzled half, then held a tiny square napkin to her mouth. “He’s supposed to be meeting Kate right now. What do you think he wants?”

I held up a hand. “Didn’t we just talk about open communication? Call him, and find out.”

Finally, I was giving good advice again.

“Oh, right.” Her hands shook as she searched through her handbag for her cell. “Three missed calls. I didn’t even hear it ring.”

Picking up my glass of wine, I waved at her. “Just dial already.”

She tapped a couple buttons on her cell, then put it to her ear. “Hey. Kristen said you were trying to get a hold of me?”

My shoulders tensed as I sipped my Sauvignon Blanc, and studied Rach’s expression to see if the conversation was going well or not.