“I’d wondered.” Steven pulled back his hand and rested it on the table. “You were up there in the middle of a thunderstorm. Were you trying to—”
“I don’t know exactly what I planned to do up there.” Niklaus pulled in a deep breath. “What I do know is that you, this Game—hell—even the Black Pawn using me for target practice. All of that, somehow, saved me.” His smile returned. “If that’s not irony, I don’t know what is.”
“You know, you’re smiling about getting drilled with half a dozen arrows and getting pitched off a skyscraper.”
“True.” Niklaus straightened up in his chair and absently massaged a spot at the center of his chest. “Hurt like hell, but I’m still here.”
“In 1945.” Steven didn’t even try to keep the bitterness from his voice.
“Still, even this, being trapped in the past, might be part of a bigger picture we just can’t see yet.”
“Wow, you’re Captain Optimism today.” Steven crossed his arms. “I mean, we are talking about the worst day of your life.”
“Yes.” Niklaus’ smile quirked to one side. “And no.” He rose from his seat and collected plates, glasses, and silverware from the next table and placed them in a bin. “What I’m trying to say is there’s a point to all this.”
“A point?” Steven grabbed a rag and wiped down the table that Niklaus was clearing. “Do tell.”
Niklaus pulled a shoulder up in a subtle shrug. “This Game of Grey’s, for all its insanity, hit me at my absolute lowest. And I’m not alone in that. From what you’ve said, you were in the midst of a long spiral after losing…”
“Katherine.”
“That’s right. Katherine.” Niklaus finished clearing the other table and returned to his seat. “You’d lost someone. Emilio had just lost his brother. You found Archie locked up on a psych ward. Hell, Audrey was literally sitting on death’s door.”
Steven leaned forward on his elbows. “What are you trying to say?”
“Don’t you see? The Game needs each of us, but in a strange way, each of us needs the Game as well.” Niklaus pushed back from the table. “If you and the others hadn’t shown up that night, God knows if I’d still be alive. Audrey would still be in Oregon, lying in a bed waiting to die. Archie would be stuck behind a locked door with a bunch of smug assholes in white coats diagnosing him with paranoid delusions. Our favorite hothead teenager would probably be six feet under, likely having taken Lena with him. And you’d still be fighting to reclaim your life from the shitstorm you’ve been through the last couple of years. Instead, we’ve all found each other, and in each other, hope.” Niklaus poured himself another glass of water and raised it in a joking toast. “Here’s to the man who literally leaped off a skyscraper to save my ass.”
“Cheers.” Steven raised his own glass and let out a quiet laugh. “You know good and well you’d do the same for me.”
“Precisely.” Niklaus raised an eyebrow. “We’ve all got each other’s backs.”
“All of us…” Unbidden, Archie’s cool stare washed across Steven’s mind’s eye.
“Somehow,” Niklaus continued, “in the midst of all this madness, we’ve found our tribe.”
Steven shook his head, smiling. “A nice sentiment. Doesn’t get us or the others any closer to home.”
“Actually, it does.” Niklaus steepled his fingers beneath his chin. “Consider this. If this Game of Grey’s can pluck each and every one of us from the worst days of our lives and put us on a better path, do you believe for a second it will leave us scattered to the four corners of space and time to die years before we’re even born?”
“I suppose not.” Hope swelled anew in Steven’s heart. “In fact, there’s something I should probably tell you.”
Niklaus chuckled. “That you’ve met Ruth somewhere before?”
Steven raised an eyebrow in surprise. “How did you know?”
“I’m not blind, Steven. The only thing clearer than the fact that this girl has the hots for you is that you are way more familiar with her than you should be with someone walking the Earth three decades before you were born.”
“You’re way more perceptive than you let on, Nik.”
“Nah.” Niklaus shook his head. “It’s just you have the worst poker face I’ve ever seen.”
Steven laughed, remembering an older Ruth’s similar observation from what seemed a lifetime ago. “Fair enough.” He stared off into space. “Guess that’s why the pouch chose me to be the front-line fodder in this stupid Game.”
“Front-line fodder.” Incredulous, Niklaus peered across the table at Steven. “Is that how you see yourself?”
“All of us have our role in this thing, Nik. You, Emilio, Audrey, Archie, even Grey.” He whipped the marble icon out of his pocket and held it between them. “And my role is Pawn. Plain and simple. If and when this Game goes down, I have no delusions about what that means.”
“You’re serious, aren’t you?” Niklaus finished off his water and placed the glass with the rest of the dirty dishes. “It’s what I was saying before. Grey may be King, but everyone knows who the leader of our little pack is.” He shook his head in disbelief. “Everyone, apparently, but the leader himself.”
“Look.” Steven raised both hands before him. “My job was to find all of you and gather you together. That doesn’t make me your leader.”
“Like hell it doesn’t.” Niklaus let out an exasperated sigh. “Think about it. When Grey is off doing whatever it is he does when he’s not with us, who does he trust to keep us all safe?”
Steven let out a bitter laugh. “A fat lot of good that’s done.”
“Stop it. Grey trusts you explicitly. Both Emilio and Lena worship the ground you walk on, even when they don’t necessarily agree with what’s coming out of your mouth. Archie may be a tough nut to crack, but nine times out of ten, even he follows your lead. And even a blind man could see the way Audrey looks at you.” Niklaus crossed his arms and grinned. “I hate to break it to you, but I didn’t follow you all the way to New York because I think you’re an idiot.”
Steven allowed himself a smile. “Good to know, Nik. Good to know.”
The door leading to the upstairs apartment opened, and Mr. Matheson strode over to their table. His face a couple shades redder than before and a newly engorged vein marking the north-south corridor of his forehead, his words somehow came out quiet and reserved.
“Mr. Bauer, I apparently owe you a debt of gratitude.”
Steven rose and shook Matheson’s offered hand. “I’m guessing Ruth told you about the car.”
Matheson ran his coarse fingers through his thinning red hair. “I’m just glad no one was hurt.” A quiet groan escaped his lips. “Wish I could say the same about my bank account.” He studied Steven, his crooked lips forming an afraid-to-ask grimace. “How bad is it?”
“The front end was pretty banged up, and you’re probably going to need a new radiator, but that’s about it. The fine folks at Studebaker built you a pretty solid car there.”
“I’m not sure what I’m going to do.” He pulled a handkerchief from his back pocket and wiped the sweat from his flushed brow. “The car will be in the shop for days, and I need it to run the business. Groceries? Supplies? How will I keep this place running?”
“Don’t worry, sir.” Steven shot Niklaus a quick glance. “Nik and I can run errands and keep everything going till you get your car back.”
Niklaus smiled. “It’s the least we can do since you’re giving us a place to stay.”
Matheson laughed. “You boys are a godsend, and there’s no ‘giving’ about it. You two are already earning your keep.” He glanced around at all the cleared tables, the redness in his cheeks diminishing a shade. “The place looks great.”
“Thank you, Mr. Matheson.” Steven glanced around for a closet. “If you’ll show us where the mops and brooms are, we’ll finish cleaning up the place for the dinner crowd.”
“Please, Steven, call me St
uart.” He pointed to a small door behind the far end of the counter. “And everything you need is in there.”
“Got it.” Steven slid behind the counter and opened the closet door on an assortment of cleaning supplies. “We’ll have this place spic and span in no time.”
Matheson headed for the door. “In that case, I’m going to run check on the car. When I get back, we’ll work on putting together sleeping arrangements for you two.” He chuckled as he rested his fingers on the handle. “Both of you gents need to be up bright and early tomorrow. Saturday mornings are crazy, and if we’re not ready for the breakfast crowd when they descend, God help us all.”
“Understood.”
Matheson donned a fedora hanging on the coat rack by the door and stepped outside. “Ruth will be down in a bit. While we were talking, she went and got herself all worked up. If I know my daughter, she won’t come down again till she’s presentable.”
“We’ll take care of everything, Mr. Matheson.” At the man’s raised eyebrow, Steven added, “I mean…Stuart.”
“I’ll be back in an hour.”
No sooner had Mr. Matheson pulled the door to than Niklaus elbowed Steven in the ribs. “Wow. Already on a first name basis with her father.”
“Ha.” Steven walked to the door, peered out onto the busy city street, and turned the door sign from Open to Closed. “Just till Ruth comes back down. I can make a mean ham on rye, but I don’t know anything about running a restaurant.”
They set to work picking up the few remaining dishes, wiping down each of the tables, and sweeping and mopping the floor. As they worked, Steven did his best to explain his connection to Ruth, her connection to Arthur Pedone, and Arthur’s to Grey.
“This is exactly what I was talking about.” Niklaus leaned on his mop. “The two of us may not be able to turn to stone or summon weapons from midair, but this is still the Game.”
“How so?”
Niklaus motioned around the place. “What are the odds of going back in time sixty years, heading for the most populated city in the country, and running into somebody you know on the first day? Especially when that someone is supposed to end up married to the guy you’re there looking for in the first place?”
“What are you boys talking about?” Ruth stood in the doorway, her eyes still a bit puffy from crying. Her cardigan and full-length skirt replaced by a pretty day dress with a floral print, she was breathtaking. “Sounds pretty serious.”
A stray lock of hair hung across Ruth’s left eye, and Steven shuddered as he imagined brushing it to one side, his fingers brushing her cheek…
To say he didn’t feel some attraction to their lovely new friend would be a bold-faced lie.
Still, his feelings for Audrey notwithstanding, this was Ruth.
Arthur’s Ruth.
Somehow, the elderly woman who had taken him in, fed him, and kept him safe on the worst night of his life now stood before him young, vibrant, and, strangest of all, interested. Though the warmhearted grandmother who lived in Portland, Maine may have been well into her eighties, the woman he pulled from the smoking car this morning in Manhattan looked like she just stepped off the set of Casablanca. Steven understood all too well that this Ruth was destined to spend the next fifty to sixty years with one of the two men they had come to New York to find. For now, though, she seemed to only have eyes for him, and a part of him liked it.
“Umm, we were just discussing one of the old movie serials from the thirties.” Steven pulled a title from the recesses of memory. “Flash Gordon Saves the Universe, I think.”
“I saw that one with Tommy when we were kids.” Ruth smiled and ran her fingers through her blond curls. “That Buster Crabbe is one well put together man.”
“We talked to your dad.” Steven took a step in her direction. “Are you all right?”
“I’m fine. Papa’s pretty upset, but he’ll get over it. He loves that car, but I’m pretty sure he loves me more.” Ruth smiled. “He bought it for Mama back before she got sick. Lot of memories riding around on those whitewalls.”
“Your mother. She’s…?”
“Mama died a couple years back, not long before Tommy left for the war. I was just a junior in high school when we lost her. Papa took it pretty hard. We all did.” A solitary tear made its way down Ruth’s cheek. “I miss her, you know? Papa did a great job and everything, but sometimes a girl wants her mother.”
“I lost my mother early, too.” Steven rested a hand on her shoulder. “I know how it feels.”
“Just so you know,” Niklaus interjected, “we locked up till you came back down. Didn’t want the place to burn down or anything.”
Ruth laughed. “Probably smart.” She stepped gracefully to the front of the deli, unlocked the door, and spun around on one foot in a fluid pirouette. “Nik, would you mind if I talked to Steven alone for a minute?”
“Of course not.” Niklaus shot Steven a knowing glance. “I’ll be in the kitchen.”
Ruth waited for Niklaus to disappear into the back before drawing close to Steven. “Thanks for not spilling the beans about me still dancing.” Her gaze dropped to the floor. “Having to tell Papa about the car was rough enough.”
“He doesn’t know?”
“Papa thinks I’ve been out running errands for the deli every week. ‘No time for silly dreams when the world is at war,’ he always says.”
“So, you’re lying to your father?” The back of Steven’s neck grew hot.
“I’m not lying.” Ruth took another step toward Steven. “I’m just…not telling him everything. It’s complicated.” She raised her lithe arms above her head in a graceful ballet pose. “I don’t want to be disobedient, but does that mean I have to give up on going after the things I want in life?”
“But he sounded so sad before.” Steven did his best to ignore the frenzied bass drummer that had taken up residence in his chest. “You know, about you having to give up your dancing. Which you apparently haven’t.” His brow furrowed. “Why can’t you just tell him?”
“Papa has enough on his plate right now. If he knew I’d started dancing again, he’d bend over backwards to make sure I made every practice, every performance, get me anything I needed, no matter the cost. Also, without me, he’d have to hire more help we simply can’t afford. It’s a mess.” She took a deep breath and let it out. “So, I go early in the morning or late at night and give him one excuse or another. He trusts me, and regardless, I’m not doing anything wrong. It’s just ballet.”
“Well, now that we’re here, he’s finally got some help. That should free you up, don’t you think? Maybe it’s time to spill the beans.”
“Maybe.” Her lips broke into a subtle smile. “In fact, I was giving that very idea some thought before I came back down. For now, though, we’ll keep it our little secret.” Ruth took one last step into Steven’s space and brought her lips next to his ear. “You can keep a secret,” she whispered, her breath warm on his skin, “can’t you?”
10
Kiss & Tell
Steven lay on his back beneath white silken sheets, his stomach tied in knots as he stared at the full head of blond hair spilled across his chest like a river of finely spun gold.
How could he have let this happen? A double betrayal, he wasn’t sure whose gaze he feared more, the woman he professed to love or the man destined to marry the woman in his bed.
Just this once, he justified, and I won’t let it happen again. Even as the words crossed his thoughts, he wondered if they represented an empty promise. One arm trapped beneath the warm form curled next to him, he brought up the opposite hand and ran his fingers through the silky locks that tickled his chest with his every breath.
“You awake?” he asked.
“Mm-hmm.” The affirmative was followed by a quick kiss at Steven’s collarbone that sent a shiver all the way to his toes.
“We need to talk about this.”
Another kiss at his neck was followed by a quick nod of assent
.
“Tonight was…” Steven paused, at a loss for words. “Tonight was incredible. No. More than that. Unforgettable. But it cannot happen again.”
The delicate fingers meandering their way down his chest stopped in their tracks.
“I know everything seems perfect,” Steven continued, “but this is wrong. Wrong in ways you can’t begin to understand.” He waited for a response but was met with only silence.
“Don’t hate me for saying this, but there’s someone else.” At his words, her body stiffened against his. “There’s always been someone else. I’m sorry I haven’t had the guts to tell you till now, but there it is.” Met again with silence, Steven grew impatient.
“Won’t you please say something? Anything? I know all of this must be difficult to hear, but it’s the truth. I don’t want to lead you on, at least not any more than I already have. Tell me you understand.”
“Oh, I understand.” The woman’s form shifted beneath the silk sheet until she came face to face with Steven. Framed by Ruth’s blond curls, Audrey’s hazel eyes gazed at Steven with a mixture of sadness, anger, and disappointment, all awash with tears of regret. “Nice to know you haven’t completely forgotten me.”
Steven bolted awake, his heart working like a jackhammer. He extricated himself from the twisted flannel sheets and sat on the edge of the cot, the metal frame and concrete floor cool against his calves and feet. In the darkness of the deli’s storage room, the only sounds other than Niklaus’ quiet snoring were the gentle hum of the refrigerator and the occasional drip from the sink’s leaky faucet. He buried his face in his hands and groaned in frustration. Nothing he did, however, erased the nightmare image of Audrey’s accusing stare from his mind’s eye.
“Dammit,” he whispered to no one. “I haven’t done anything wrong.”
But the situation wasn’t that simple.
That night wasn’t the first he’d dreamed of Ruth in the near month and a half since he and Niklaus took up residence in the storage room of Dante’s Deli, but it was by far the most vivid, and the first time Audrey had made an appearance.
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