Stealing Phin (20 page)

“Why? Because you want to get back together with him? After all the grief he’s put you through—”

“I don’t know why I need to see him, Dez.” I took off my sunglasses and put them on the dresser. “I just do. He came all the way out here to see me for a reason. It must be important. And to be honest, I’m not okay with the way we left things.”

“We’re coming with you then,” Dez said resolutely.

I shook my head. “I need to do this alone. I want some answers from Douglas, and he’s not going to give them to me if I come to dinner with an entourage.”

Dez tossed her hands into the air and looked as if she wanted to strangle someone.

“Whatever happened to the whole I’ll-let-you-figure-out-your-own-love-life pledge?” I asked.

“Letting you ponder over the great mystery behind why guys behave as stupidly as they do is one thing.” She kicked off her sandy flip flops. “Watching you walk back into the ring to face the guy who pummeled your heart into a bleeding pulp once already is another thing altogether.”

“What are you afraid is going to happen? That he’ll say or do something to hurt my feelings? Well, it’s too late for that. He can’t possibly hurt me more than he already has.”

“Don’t be so sure. No matter how much you think you know someone, people always surprise you.”

“You’re the second person to tell me that on this trip.”

“Words to live by,” Dez muttered as she banged her flip flops against the balcony railing with undue violence to get the sand off them. “Anyway, I don’t even think that applies in this case because we already know Douglas is the most selfish, self-serving bastard on the planet. I guarantee you he’s here because he wants something from you.”

“Maybe so.” I bit my lip. “But maybe the thing he wants is forgiveness. Maybe he came here to apologize. And if that’s the case, I should at least hear him out. Because no matter what, everyone deserves a chance to right his wrongs.”

Dez turned her slightly sun-burned face toward me. It was shadowed with worry. “But that’s what I’m afraid of. That he’ll ask for your forgiveness, and you, with your bleeding heart, will give it to him. And then he’ll ask for more. He’ll ask for you to take him back. What are you going to do then?” She crossed her arms.

I turned away from her as my thoughts turned inward and ended up looking straight at my reflection in the mirror above the dresser. What
was
I going to do? My eyes landed on the pretty beads strung around my neck. They felt warm on my chest, and I couldn’t tell if it was from the sun, my body heat, or a warmth they were giving off on their own. As I stared at the beads, a calmness washed in like a gentle tide, sweeping away the confusion and tumult that had tangled around my mind and soul like black seaweed.

Finally, I knew exactly what to do. “I’ll follow my heart.”

“Remember, we’ll be in the bar right next door,” Dez said to me. She and Estevan had insisted on walking me to the restaurant.

“Don’t worry,” I tried to reassure her, even though my stomach churned with nervousness. The calmness I’d felt earlier dissipated as soon as we’d arrived at Soda Viquez. “I’ll be fine.”

“Come straight to the bar when you’re through. If we don’t see you in an hour, I’ve got the policía on speed dial.”

“An hour?” I frowned. “That’s not going to be enough time.” A vision of Dez barging into the restaurant with the policía while Douglas and I were eating our entrées entered my mind.

“Okay, then. An hour and
a
half
. Not a minute more. Don’t make me storm in there and raise hell.”

“Don’t worry.” I gave my friend a parting hug. “Love you, Dezzy.”

“Tell Douglas I said hello and that I hope his little office hussy gave him a bad rash.” She turned to Estevan. “Let’s go. I’m gonna need a shot of Guaro.”

I watched the two of them head into the bar that was less than ten paces away.

Be
brave,
Phin.
You
can
do
this.

When I stepped into the restaurant, I noted how dimly lit the place was. It was a higher-end restaurant and obviously set-up for romantic occasions. There were crisp white tablecloths, richly colored paintings on the walls, and candles on every table which were spaced far enough apart to keep intimate conversations…well, intimate.

The hostess approached me with a wide smile. “Buenas noches, señorita. Do you have a reservation?”

“Um, yes. For two at seven o’clock.” My heartbeat quickened as I scanned the room for Douglas. “Under Dickenson.”

The hostess checked her book. “Ah, si. Here you are. You are the first in your party to arrive. Would you like to wait at the bar or be seated now?”

Exasperation flared in me. It was just like Douglas to be late to his own meetings. He’d always acted as if his time were more valuable than everyone else’s. When we were together, he’d kept me waiting alone in fancy restaurants all over Chicago, but I never got angry at him. Instead, I’d always waited patiently, sipping on a glass of wine, checking my cell phone every other second for a text message from him. I used to take the seat facing the entrance of the restaurant so I could watch the door as I counted down the minutes until my Douglas walked through it.

“I’ll sit at the table,” I said. The hostess led me to one that was in a particularly private corner of the dining area. She removed a card from the table that said
Reservada.
Seemed like Douglas went through the trouble of specifically requesting this table. Typical. Only the best was good enough for him.

The hostess pulled out the chair on the side of the table that would give me a view of the entrance.

I began to take the seat, but suddenly stopped. “Actually,” I said. “I’d like to sit on the other side.” I walked around the table and seated myself.

“Of course, whatever you wish.” She handed me the drink menu. “Can I offer you anything to drink?”

Normally, I’d order a glass of wine. But not tonight. “I’ll take a club soda.”

As I sipped on the fizzy drink, I tried to organize my thoughts. There were so many things I wanted to ask Douglas. Why did he cheat on me? Was the sex getting boring? Was I not ambitious enough? Smart enough? Beautiful enough? I wanted to know why he didn’t come after me when I ran out of his office that night. And why, if he was unhappy, didn’t he just break up with me instead of cheating on me?

I tried to guess what his answers to all these questions were so that I could be mentally and emotionally prepared for them. But the truth was, after all that’d happened this week, I had to acknowledge the fact that I could try to predict all I wanted, but it wouldn’t necessarily prepare me for the answers.

As well as I thought I knew and trusted Douglas, his infidelity had blindsided me. At the end of the day, both Byron and Dez were right—everyone keeps a part of themselves hidden from the rest of the world. And it’s usually those parts of themselves that are so ugly that there’s good reason to hide them. More frightening still is the fact that the uglier the secret, the better at lying you had to be to keep it hidden.

I was so engrossed in my own thoughts, I didn’t hear his footsteps approach from behind me. Suddenly, a hand set down a flower in front of me on the table—a red rose. The flower filled my nostrils with the pungent scent I hated. I glared at the stinking flower, wondering why, of all the beautiful, fragrant flowers in the world, this one ended up as the symbol of love. I looked up at the man who had placed the rose before me—the man who’d turned my world inside out.

“Hello, Phin.” Douglas smiled. He bent down to kiss me on the lips, but I turned my face away. He paused for a moment, looking surprised and a tad pissed, then kissed my cheek instead. I could smell cigars on his breath. I used to hate it when he smoked them because I could taste it on his breath for days. He knew I hated it, too, but whenever I complained and asked him to stop smoking them, if anything for health reasons, he’d accuse me of trying to control him.

“Hello, Douglas.” I tried to keep my voice steady and folded my hands together to keep them from trembling.

“Thanks for showing up.” As he took his seat across the table, Douglas studied my face. “I wasn’t sure you would.” He slid a manila envelope near the edge of the table next to his water glass.

“I wasn’t sure that I
should
. Still not sure. But I’m here.”

“Well, it makes me really happy that you did.” He leaned forward in his seat. “You have no idea how happy.”

“What did you want to talk about that was so important you had to come all this way?”

“I’ll get to that. I need a drink first.” He motioned for the waitress and ordered his usual—two fingers of scotch, neat.

After the waitress delivered the drink, he took down half of it in one gulp. I held back from smirking, as I realized he must be nervous, too. “So, how has your little getaway been? You and Dez having a good time?” His tone was casual, but his eyes were intense. I could see that he was trying to read my reaction to his question, but I didn’t understand why.

“It’s had its ups and downs. Like most vacations.” I said vaguely.

“Downs?” Douglas raised his eyebrows, more with curiosity than concern. “I hope you and Dez didn’t fight on the trip. My dad always said,
Stick
two
women
into
a
room
together
for
long
enough,
they’ll
go
from
chatting
about
hair
to
pulling
each
other’s
hair
for
no
good
reason,
other
than
the
fact
that
they’re
women
.” He snickered.

I could feel my lip curl. “It’s too bad I never met your father. He sounds like quite the charming misogynist.” Had he always been this negative toward women, or had our break up turned him bitter? “Look, Douglas. Can we cut the small talk and get to the point? I don’t think you came here because you couldn’t wait another twenty-four hours to hear about my trip.”

The briefest sneer flickered across Douglas’s expression, his lips pulled back tightly across his bared teeth before he coaxed it smoothly into a smile. He wasn’t used to my speaking to him like this. To tell the truth, I wasn’t used to it either. But for better or for worse, our break up and this trip had changed me.

I tried to keep my composure as Douglas downed his drink and ordered another. My leg jigged with nervous energy under the table. He was making me wait on purpose. I could see that he was trying to manipulate my emotions, to take back control over the conversation. Douglas never was comfortable in any situation unless he was the one calling all the shots.

Finally, he met my eyes and answered. “I came here because I want you back, Phin.”

He voice carried very little emotion. He said it as if he were ordering the filet mignon with the expectation that he’d get exactly what he wanted.

Bullshit,
was my first thought, but I kept it in check. If I went there, he’d only go on the defensive. “Douglas, I—”

He put up his hand. “Before you say anything, just hear me out. I made a mistake. Fucked up big time. I don’t want to make excuses, but I think you should know all the facts before you condemn me as the bad guy. The thing is, Marissa threw herself at me when I was feeling really vulnerable. And I…had a weak moment.”

He swirled his drink around in the glass and looked at me as if he expected me to say it was okay. Just like that.

It pissed me off. “Seemed like it lasted more than a moment to me,” I said sarcastically.

He rolled his eyes. “Look, I know what it must’ve looked like, but you need to put it in perspective. I was stressed at work that day. Worst day I ever had, in fact. Turns out one of my associates blabbed to the senior partners about my billing practices. Needless to say, the partners were pissed. Called me unethical. Jim, the prick, didn’t waste any time campaigning for my resignation. Even my disbarment.”

His expression and tone changed at that point. He seemed worried. Scared, even.

“Oh, Douglas,” I shook my head, unable to keep from feeling sorry for him. “I was afraid this could happen.”

His eyes lit with hope. “It makes me happy to hear you way that. It tells me you’re still looking out for me. Because, Phin, I need to ask you for a favor.”

“What favor?”

“Jim didn’t waste any time reporting me to the Ethics Committee over this silly nonsense, that rat bastard.” Douglas bared his overly bleached teeth. “He’s drooling over my client book. This is all a plan to sabotage me. It could ruin my career. If I’m disbarred, I’m finished.”

“Is that going to happen?”

“The committee is investigating the invoices and billing records. It’s actually been fortunate that you don’t work there anymore and have been out of the country, or else they would’ve gotten to you by now.”