Take Me I'm Yours (Coffee House Chronicles) (21 page)

“Marion, no. Tell me you’re not considering it.”

“Well…” Considering, yes. But it wasn’t for the reason Delilah thought.

“Oh, girl!”

“He said he wanted to try again. He wanted a second chance and that he still loved me,” she said.

“I think you’d be an idiot if you went back to him. Especially after what he did to you,” Delilah said.

She made a lot of sense. Marion couldn’t deny that. Still, she had tossed and turned most of the night thinking about what he said. Marion wasn’t stupid. She knew she wouldn’t get her happy ending with Ethan. She
knew
it. That was why she had to go to him and tell him once and for all it was over and done. And then she would figure out a way to get Graeme back.

“He nearly destroyed you. I can’t stand
by and allow him to do it again.”

It was true. Every word Delilah said. Marion knew it as well as her friend.
And that was exactly why she had to meet him one last time. It hurt her to keep it from Delilah, but if she knew her plan, she would try to talk her out of it. Either that or show up for ring-side seats. “I think maybe I should give it a try.”

It was probably the first time in their entire friendship Delilah didn’t have some snappy comeback. Or at least something to say.
Her reply was silence.

“And who knows? Maybe it’ll work out. Maybe we’ll make it, after all.”
Marion gave a half-hearted chuckle.

Still there was silence.

“Delilah, don’t be mad at me. I can’t help it. I have to do this. It’s important to me.”

“Mar, may I remind you Ethan is a spoiled, rich kid from
Westover Hills with nothing better to do than spend Daddy’s money?”

Marion was well aware of his roots in the very affluent area with their multi-million dollar houses and country club.
Ethan and his family came from old Fort Worth money.

“But I think he’s changed.”

“I think you’re insane,” Delilah said. “And if that’s true, then why are we driving to Dallas to buy a painting by a man who seems to be madly in love
with you
?”

“Um…because I don’t want my face or my body hanging on anyone else’s wall.”

“Sure. Whatever you say.”

Her look of
distaste made Marion wince. “Please don’t be angry.”

“I’m not angry. I’m disappointed,” Delilah said. “Here you have this incredibly handsome painter and you’re throwing it all away. And on what? A man who broke your heart
six months ago. A man who can’t keep promises
or
his dick in his pants. A man who is so slick at what he does that he’s managed to reel you back in a second time.”

“It’s not like that at all,” Marion
said, wincing yet determined to keep her plan to herself. “Ethan didn’t ‘reel’ me into anything. He loves me.” It was all she could do to keep her coffee down on that last lie.

“
Oh, please. Ethan loves himself and no one else.”

“If you think that, then why were going to be my maid of honor at the wedding? Why didn’t you say something then?”

“Because I didn’t want to rain on the perfect bride’s parade,” she snapped. “I was trying to be supportive of your decision.”

“Wait a minute,” Marion began. “Are you telling me you never liked Ethan?”

“That’s exactly what I’m telling you. You’re too good for him and you can do much better than him.” Delilah kept her gaze on the road ahead, not making eye contact with her or even glancing her way.

“And I suppose you think I should pick Graeme.”
She folded her arms across her chest.

Delilah sighed. “I think you should pick whoever makes you happy, Mar.
Here we are.”

It was a pat answer. And perhaps Delilah was trying not to pick a fight with her when they would be confined to the car for another hour drive back home.
It was probably a good thing they arrived at the gallery when they did. Otherwise, they would have a full blown argument and the drive back would be excruciatingly silent.

“Let’s get this over with,” Delilah said as she cut the engine.

Marion wasn’t sure if she meant buying the painting or getting the entire ordeal done.

Silence still between them, they entered the gallery. They seemed to be the only customers and were greeted cheerfully by a young, smartly dressed woman
.

“Good morning. How can I help you ladies?”

“Hi,” Marion said. She glanced at Delilah, who stood with her arms folded across her chest, looking bored and annoyed. “Um, I was at Graeme Butler’s opening the other night. I’d like to purchase one of the paintings.”

“Wonderful! Which one were you interested in?” She gestured toward the exhibit room
.

“Black-Eyed Girl,” Marion said.

“Hm,” she said, looking thoughtful. “I’m not familiar with that one. Let me look it up.”

“It’s different from his other work.”
She trailed after the girl as she headed toward a large desk.

“He’s a great artist, isn’t he?” The girl’s fingers tapped on a computer. “We sold a lot of his work, but I certainly don’t recall seeing this one.”

“It’s rather…unusual.” The entire time she stood waiting, her heart pounded fiercely in her chest.

“Ah, yes. Here we are. I’ll just get it ready for you.”

“Thanks.”

Relief flooded her.

Unfortunately, it was short-lived. She could hear Delilah’s heels clicking a fast cadence as she headed toward her, a worried look on her face.

“Um, Mar—”

But that was as far as she got because Graeme and a man she didn’t know rounded a corner. The stranger was tall, good-looking and deeply tanned. There was something about him that exuded money and European classiness
.

Her heart hadn’t had time to recover from her fear of not being able to buy the painting. Now it was throbbing painfully in her chest. Sweat broke out all over her, even her palms. And there was nowhere to hide. She stood in the middle of the gallery. Trapped.

Graeme
made eye contact with her. The last person on the planet she wanted to lay eyes on was Graeme. Now would be an excellent time for a black chasm to open up and swallow her whole.

But he didn’t stop talking with
the man. In fact, he never paused as he continued to walk through the gallery and into the exhibit hall where his paintings hung.

She
was stunned. He had made eye contact with her the entire time he walked through the room, but instead, he refused to even acknowledge she was there. He didn’t stop to say hello or even really acknowledge her. He didn’t even look happy to see her.

“That son of a bitch,” Delilah said, standing next to her
.

She
couldn’t have said it better. Her shock quickly went to humiliation. Tears clogged in her throat and she knew any second now she was going to cry. That painting didn’t matter so much anymore.

“Come on, Del. Let’s get out of here.”

Chapter Fifteen

Marion was in a serious quandary. She never thought she would be in a position to decide about Ethan.
Even after what happened with Graeme in the gallery, she knew she shouldn’t give the man a second chance. Why should she? He broke her heart. He left her at the altar. Even if his claims that he’s changed were true, could she ever really trust him again?

Calling
Graeme crossed her mind numerous times. But the way he had looked at her in the gallery that day had kept her hand firmly away from the phone.

On the drive back to their side of town, Delilah had ranted about him.
She called him all sorts of names she could think of—some were creative inventions. Marion had never quite heard a few of those expletives put together. Their earlier feud forgotten, she was clearly disenchanted with the painter. Delilah and angry didn’t mix.

“I can’t believe he walked right by you without even stopping to say one word,” she’d said. “What an asshole. And that look he gave you!” She thumped the steering wheel out of aggravation
.

“Yeah, I saw,” Marion had said
.

“I hope that bastard misses you for the rest of his miserable life.”

Marion somehow managed to keep the tears at bay, agreeing with her friend about the wrongfulness of the situation. And even though she didn’t want to agree, the thought of Graeme missing her eased her pain.

And because Graeme had dismissed her so coldly, she
decided to meet with Ethan and put her plan into action. She picked up the phone several times but quickly hung up before the call could go through. Ethan had seemed so sincere, as if he meant everything he said. Like he really was willing to give it another shot.

He would never
be expecting the blow she’d hand him.

So that Saturday morning, nearly a week after the fateful
day in the gallery, Marion came to terms with the men in her life. Graeme would be no more. And as for Ethan…she would dismiss him once and for all.

She didn’t love
Ethan. Maybe she never did. Maybe she wanted that fantasy of a happy home with the white picket fence and she thought he could give it to her. He had promised her that and more. He had told her he would give her anything. A shopping spree at Neiman Marcus anytime. Any kind of car she wanted. A house in any high-brow neighborhood she wanted.

She should have
known he was trying to buy her love with the nearly three carat diamond ring, which now resided in the black velvet box, shoved into the bottom of one of her dresser drawers. She couldn’t stop thinking about sitting down to a dinner with him, alone. Not to reconcile, but to end her suffering.

It would mean closure. She could finally put those feelings aside and move on with her
life. With or without Graeme.

As
she reached for the phone to call him, it rang. She dare not look at the Caller ID because if it was Graeme then she might chicken out. So she took a deep breath and answered.

“Hello, Marion, dear.”

“Mom. Hi.” She released a pent-up breath.

S
made it a habit to not call her mother on a consistent basis. In fact, she had avoided her for a month or two after
that day that won’t be mentioned
. It was what her mother called it.

“How are you?
You haven’t called in a while.”

“I’m great. Never better.”
The less information she gave her mom, the better.

They continued the small talk for another fifteen minutes. Her mother asked how things were at the gym, her painting classes
.

“Any new beaus?”

She rolled her eyes. “No, Mom.”

“It’s been six months since
that day I won’t mention. I know it’s been difficult—”

“Yes, Mom, it has.”

And despite her efforts
not
to mention the day, her mother always managed to bring it up. Marion sighed.

“
Have you spoken to Ethan?” She paused and Marion twisted the phone cord around her forefinger, wondering what was up her sleeve.

If she didn’t know any better, she could swear she heard hesitation in her mother’s voice. “Why do you ask?”

“Well…I thought since it’s been only six months…that maybe there was some hope of you two reconciling.”

“Mother…”
she said on a sigh.

“He’s such a nice boy,” she continued. “And he comes from such a nice family.”

And such nice money
. She knew that was why her mother pushed for the match in the first place. And she had blindly gone along with it. “He cheated on me, Mom. Or did you forget?”

“Oh, honey. Mistakes happen.”

“Mistakes?” she repeated. “You think me finding him naked with some other girl was a
mistake
?”

There was a long pause and
she knew she offended her. She bit her lip to keep from going on the rant. There were so many things she wanted to say but didn’t. Things she wanted to tell her about Ethan and his women.

“I think you should talk to him,”
she said.

“I have an idea
.
You
talk to him.”

“Actually, dear…I have.”

Her heart lurched. She should have seen that coming and she wondered if Ethan’s sudden urge to get back together had anything to do with Amanda Parker and her meddling ways.

“I ran into his mother at the country club a few weeks ago and…”

Marion stopped listening and mentally kicked herself for allowing this conversation to go any further.

“Mom—”

“And she mentioned to me how forlorn he’s been. She said he mopes around like he’s lost his best friend. And he has. He’s devastated without you.”