A Secret to Forgive

by Tricia Saxby

  “You’re right,” Karen mumbled. “I apologize.” Oh, that was hard!

  “Hmm.” Natasha reached for her eyeglasses, which were perched on top of her head. When she put them on, her already large eyes grew to remind Karen of an owl.

  “What on earth happened to your clothes?” She took a step closer to Karen and let her gaze drag up and down her body. Karen wanted to cringe. “You’re covered in mud, and you smell like…coffee.”

  “I…umm, well…” She suddenly felt very woozy.

  “Spit it out already!”

  “There was an incident at the crosswalk.”

  “An incident?”

  “Yes. I had your coffee and dress, and there was a guy on a motorbike who wouldn’t stop…”

  “My dress? Where is it?”

  “At the dry cleaners.”

  “It was due for pickup today.”

  “Yes.”

  “And?”

  Karen thought she might vomit. The butterflies that had plagued her since she’d entered Natasha’s office tripled in agitation, rising to her throat. That cashmere dress was Natasha’s favorite. Mud and coffee came out of white cashmere, right?

  “Well, I had to take it back to the dry cleaners. It…there was some…”

  “Unbelievable!” Natasha screamed, her face red from the exertion.

  “It’s only a dress.”

  “Only a…only a…dress,” Natasha repeated, her breaths shallow and fast.

  “I’m sure it will be fine. Your dry cleaner can work miracles.”

  “Yes. Miracles.” Natasha sat and leaned back in her chair. Always the drama queen, Karen thought. “Tell me. Which cashmere dress was it?”

  Karen’s eyebrows knit in question. “Stacey said you’d be wearing it tonight at the opening gala.”

  “The black one? Please tell me it was the black one. Yes, Richard can get anything out of black cashmere.”

  Oh, how Karen wished she were the fainting type. That would be the perfect escape to such a crazy, disastrous day.

  “Well?” Natasha screeched at her. “I’m quite sure you know what color my dress is.”

  “It wasn’t the black one.”

  “That leaves…my white one.”

  Karen rushed to explain. “Yes, but it barely had anything on it. You won’t even know.”

  “I’ll know.”

  “No! It’ll be fine. I promise.”

  “It better be or you’ll owe me a thousand dollars.”

  A thousand dollars! She couldn’t afford that. She wasn’t getting paid for this internship, and her roommate wasn’t going to let her bum off him forever. She would have gotten a second job if there were more hours in a day, but right now she was lucky if she got home before ten o’clock each night. Even free weekends were sparse with the ramp-up for Fashion Week.

  “When will my dress be ready?” Natasha asked, her voice continuing in an eerie monotone.

  “I had Richard put a rush on it, so it should be ready by five o’clock.”

  “At cost to the company?”

  Yes, but she wasn’t about to tell her that. “No, of course not. I’ll cover it.”

  “Good.” She lifted her coffee cup to her lips and took a long sip. “My coffee is ice cold. Go and get me a new one. Two creams.”

  Before Karen voiced her opinion again, she left as fast as she could, avoiding Stacey’s questions and the piercing stares of the other interns. As she rode the elevator down to the lobby, her thoughts continued to swirl. She had to get it right this time. One compliment from this witch woman would make this whole situation so much more bearable.

  The elevator doors chimed and opened to let her out. With a game plan in place, she decided this time she’d get two coffees to cover her ass.

  “It’s quite a nice ass you have too.”

  Karen stopped short and turned. Reclining on one of the lobby couches was Leo—all six foot two of the blond, muscled, gorgeous playboy who only had to blink and anything he wanted was his.

  “What are you doing here, Leo? I thought you were with your redhead.”

  He stood and reached her side in two long strides, causing her pulse to race. “I had my driver take her back to the condo. I’m here to see you.” No beating around the bush with this guy. She’d always liked that about him.

  His condo. A dull ache filled her chest, and she silently scolded herself. What did she care? He could do whatever he wanted with whomever he wanted. “I don’t have time to chat.” She headed to the lobby door, which the doorman opened for her.

  “Whoa! Hold up, Karen.” Leo caught up with her on the sidewalk. He touched her elbow, and a hot burst of lust zoomed to her groin.

  “I need to get my boss more coffee.”

  His golden eyes, which had acquired him the nickname “The Golden Lion” back in college, turned dark amber. “Seriously?”

  “Don’t even get me started.” Karen turned away from Leo and picked up her walking pace. She didn’t have time to make small chat with an old flame. Well, “old flame” according to her, anyway. Leo had never had the time of day for her after that one night.

  “Can I tag along?” he asked as he kept pace with her long strides.

  “I’d prefer if you didn’t.”

  “I’m great company.”

  Karen didn’t doubt that. Checking her watch, she moaned. How on earth had so much time slipped away? She veered to the left and dashed across the street. People yelled and honked their horns, but she didn’t care.

  “Next time tell me before you do something stupid like that,” Leo said when he caught up to her. He wasn’t even a bit winded from the jog.

  “I’m not here to entertain you. I have an errand to run, and if I don’t get it right this time, I’ll be fired for sure.”

  “Over coffee?”

  “Over her expensive white cashmere dress being covered in coffee and mud stains.”

  “I’m sure she can purchase another one.”

  “She most definitely could, but I’m not about to be the one to tell her that.” Not after everything else she’d said.

  “I’m assuming you took it back to the dry cleaners.”

  “Yes, and put a rush on it.” They crossed another intersection and headed to the corner coffee shop. “She needs it for tonight’s gala.”

  “What gala?”

  Karen stopped and opened the coffee shop door, inhaling deeply. She loved the smell of fresh ground coffee beans.

  “You know there are a dozen coffee shops on the same block as your building.”

  “Yes, but this is where she gets her coffee. Every day.”

  “Nothing like trying something new,” Leo mumbled, and he sat on a stool as Karen placed her order.

  “Want anything?”‘

  “No.”

  Once she had a cup of coffee in each hand, Karen said goodbye to Leo and made her way back to work post haste.

  “You still haven’t told me about the gala.”

  “I thought you’d left,” Karen said with a sigh. He was becoming quite a nuisance. “What are you doing here anyway?”

  “I asked a question first.” He snatched one of the coffees out of her hand and kept walking.

  “Right, the gala.” Karen had to increase her stride to keep up with him now. “Next week is Fashion Week, and this gala is the kick-off for all the activities that will be happening in the downtown core.”

  “And are you, the most prized intern, invited to this fancy gala?”

  “Of course not. I’m only the most prized intern.”

  They had slowed down, and Leo was staring at her, a huge grin on his face.

  “What?”

  “I always enjoyed your dry humor. I’ve missed it.”

  Karen wanted to grab onto the compliment and run. How dire were her circumstances that she yearned for praise from anyone who’d give it? This particular someone being a mistake from the past…but she wasn’t in a position to be picky.

  “Thanks.” She t
ilted her head and returned his grin.

  “You haven’t changed a bit.” Leo’s voice held a soft rumble that had goose bumps racing down her arms. A gust of wind whipped around them as they stood facing each other on the sidewalk. She laughed, the sound a light tinkling as her scarf billowed between them.

  “Of course I’ve changed. It’s been five years, and you know nothing about me now.”

  “I want to.”

  Karen shoved him aside. “I’m not going to do this with you.”

  “Do what?”

  “You have a girlfriend. A beautiful redhead who most likely is a model here for Fashion Week. Am I right?”

  Leo shrugged. “I wouldn’t call her my girlfriend, but yes, she’s a model.”

  They reached her destination, and she extended her hand out for the coffee he held. “Please.”

  His full, sensuous lips crept up at the corners and his golden eyes lit up with humor. “You say that so nicely.”

  “Behave yourself!” The last thing she needed was this man to cause uncontrollable butterflies in her stomach. She’d been there, done that with him, and it had led to heartache. She could not go there again.

  Leo took a sip of the coffee and scrunched his face in disgust. “Ugh, no sugar.”

  Karen almost dropped the cup she held. “What are you doing? That coffee is for—”

  “Your boss. I know, I know.”

  “Give it to me.”

  “I’d love to, but now’s not the time.”

  “Honestly!”

  “I wouldn’t lie about something like that.”

  Karen rolled her eyes. “I don’t have time for this.”

  “I’ll see you to your desk.”

  “That’s not necessary.”

  “It’s not, but you need help carrying this cup of coffee.”

  A short burst of laughter escaped from her lips. Now she remembered why they’d gotten along so well. That and the sexual tension they could keep at a constant low burn.

  “Fine, but I’m warning you, she’s got quite the temper. She’ll definitely know we did something to her precious coffee.”

  “Yours is still untouched.”

  “And it’ll stay that way,” she said, and she brought the cup close to her chest.

  They rode the elevator to the top floor in silence. She thanked her lucky stars it was a fast ride. When the doors opened, Karen stepped out and then stopped short. Natasha was standing in the middle of the foyer, her legs shoulder width apart and her hands on her hips, an unflattering grimace making her look clown-like.

  “Did you go to Brooklyn for my damn coffee?”

  “Of course not.” She held the cup out to Natasha, who grasped it so hard the lid popped off and sent creamy liquid to splash on Karen’s boots and the newly waxed marble floor.

  “Look what you’ve done!” Natasha screeched.

  “I’ve done nothing. You’re the one—”

  A loud throat-clearing sound came from behind her. “Excuse me, ladies.”

  “What!” Karen and Natasha snapped, their focus on the sudden distraction.

  “Can I offer my assistance?”

  Karen faced Natasha, whose mouth formed a perfect “o”.

  After an eternity, Natasha turned to Karen with a smile. “Kara, this is our new Fashion Week photographer, Leopold St. Clare.”

  Chapter Two

  So this was what it felt like to be hit by a train…or at least what Karen figured it would feel like. The tightness in her chest and the high-pitched buzzing in her ears accompanied the heavy sensation in her limbs, making it impossible to move. She hadn’t heard correctly. Leo wasn’t the new photographer. None of this made sense. Leo was a playboy to the highest extreme. Living the life on his Tuscany estate, a girl on each arm and wine from his family’s vineyards flowing like water. What did Leo know about fashion or taking pictures…or working?

  She had to say something. Anything was better than standing here looking like a gulping fish.

  You’ve gotta be kidding me.

  The annoyed glare from Leo and exasperated sigh from Natasha told her quite clearly that she’d opened her big mouth without thinking first…again.

  “You know better than anyone that I don’t kid around.” Natasha brushed at the air as if swatting a pesky fly. “Now get back to work. I’ve left you a pile of paperwork to file.”

  Touching Leo’s elbow, she guided him down the hall and into her office. The door slammed shut behind them, and Karen let out a big whoosh of air.

  “Who was that?” Stacey asked, clapping her hands together and sighing.

  Karen refused to answer as she made her way past the swooning spectacle to her desk. True to her word, Natasha had literally piled her desk with papers. Payback, no doubt.

  She mindlessly sorted through the first pile and alphabetized it for filing. Why hadn’t he told her they’d be working at the same company? He knew that she worked for Natasha Vale. He’d gotten an earful during the whole coffee-and-dress disaster…or had he?

  Karen stopped shuffling the papers in her hands and placed them gently on the pile she’d pulled them from. No, he wouldn’t have known. She’d only referred to her as “boss,” and really, that could have been anyone.

  It came down to the fact that he hadn’t asked and she hadn’t told.

  She recalled how he’d come to her rescue in the foyer before she’d embarrassed herself even more in front of her co-workers. Twice now Leo St. Clare had come to her rescue.

  She didn’t like it one bit. She wasn’t some fairy tale princess who needed her Prince Charming to come riding in on his steed and make everything perfect. She didn’t want it either.

  Her phone buzzed with an incoming text. Natasha’s dress was ready. Releasing a sigh of relief, Karen grabbed her jacket and purse and left before someone else could give her an errand to do.

  A burst of cold air hit her as she stepped onto the sidewalk. Pulling her jacket tighter, she bent against the bitter wind and power-walked to the dry cleaners. Glancing up from time to time, she saw more frowns than happy faces in the throng of people that filled the sidewalk. With the Christmas rush long gone and New Year celebrations done for another year, all that was left were bitter weeks of cold and what Karen liked to call the February blahs.

  Since moving to New York, she’d had a real wake-up call. She wasn’t in small-town Oak Valley, British Columbia, anymore. When she’d arrived at the end of fall, the leaves had been red and gold, the flower beds full of marigolds had still been vibrant, and pedestrians had been smiling. Happiness had oozed from everywhere, even the buildings. It’d been everything she’d hoped and wished for in this city of dreams. But that illusion had ended before the day was done. She’d scoured the pavement looking for an apartment to rent. Nothing in her price range had been habitable, each place worse than the last, and all of them were run down and dark, with stained floors, filthy bathrooms, and cockroaches in the kitchen.

  As the days stretched on, a fear she’d never known before took hold as desperation sank in. She’d been a fool to come here without doing research on housing first. She’d been determined to make it on her own with no help—and she’d failed. Grudgingly, Karen had called up an old friend who lived there and asked if she could bum a room until something better came along. Having to rely on others didn’t sit well with her. She didn’t want to be helped.

  “Rescued” is more like it, Karen clarified to herself as she turned the corner and arrived at her destination. She opened the heavy door. Chimes announced her arrival, and Richard, famous dry cleaner to the stars, popped up from behind the counter.

  “Ah, Ms. Allen. You are quite prompt.”

  “You know who I work for.”

  Richard smiled and took her hand. “Do not worry, darling. I worked my miracle, and the dress looks better than it did before.”

  Karen let out a big breath she didn’t know she’d been holding. “You are my hero.”

  “Of course I am,” he said wi
th a smirk as he shrugged.

  A light, tinkling laugh left her lips and warmth filled her. “I owe you for that too.”

  Richard’s eyebrows furrowed. “For laughter?”

  “I’m afraid so.” How depressing was that? When was the last time she’d laughed like that? Earlier today with Leo, she realized with a slight frown.

  Richard passed her the dress, which was wrapped in a plastic zippered bag this time.

  “Thank you. Oh, and you’d better charge it to me. Ms. Vale doesn’t want to see it on the company books.”

  “Let me tell you what, darling. This time it is on the house.”

  Oh crap. Was he taking pity on her? That was the last thing she needed.

  “I can afford it,” she said, shoulders back and spine straight. She didn’t do well with handouts. Asking her friend for a place to live had been bad enough. It had been that or sleeping with the cockroaches. She’d come to terms with it, but she’d refused to accept help from anyone else since she’d been there.

  Richard rounded the counter and stood in front of her. “I do not doubt it, but you will accept my kindness.”

  She couldn’t argue with a clothes genius. She smiled. “Of course I will. I didn’t mean to offend. Thank you, Richard.”

  Richard leaned forward and placed a kiss on each cheek. “You are welcome, darling.” He released her and waved her away. “I will see you again soon.”

  “Most definitely.”

  Before the door slammed shut behind her, he called out, “And stay away from the coffee shop until after the dress has been delivered.”

  It was five thirty when she got back to work. Natasha’s office door was wide open, so Karen entered and draped the dress over a chair where she’d be sure to see it.

  “Well?”

  Karen let out a yelp and her hand went to her throat. Her pulse beat rapidly beneath her fingers. “Ms. Vale?”

  Natasha stepped through a gap in the navy blue curtains that draped the floor-to-ceiling windows and walked into the room. “Well?” she repeated.

  “I haven’t looked at it.” Steady, pulse. Steady…

  “Then how—?”

  “Richard told me it looks better than it did before. I trust him.” Confidence flowed through her at Natasha’s look of astonishment.