The Girl of His Dreams

by Susan Mallery

  “She wants that, too. The time will go quickly. Then she’ll be up and walking, and this will just be a bad dream.” Kayla thought about the scars on her body, scars that Patrick had touched so tenderly. He’d made her feel perfect, as if those marks didn’t matter. She sent up a quick prayer that Allison would find someone as wonderful. And that she would have the good sense to hang on to the guy.

  “This is a lot to ask, but I was wondering…” Sheila’s voice trailed off. Her gaze darted around the hallway before settling on Kayla’s face. “About Rhonda. We’d like to adopt her for Allison. Is that possible?”

  Kayla hugged the other woman. “Yes. I think it’s a great idea.”

  “Really?” Sheila asked. “She doesn’t belong to anyone?”

  “No. Rhonda was abandoned. I’ve brought her here to be with Allison, and I’d planned to take her to visit the seniors, but I never got around to it. I think she already considers herself Allison’s dog.” Kayla straightened. “You want to take her home with you today?”

  “That would be great. Oh my gosh! What do we feed her? Do we take her for walks? I haven’t had a dog since I was Allison’s age.”

  “It’s easy,” Kayla told her. “The most important thing is for Rhonda to be with people who really love her, and you guys have that one down. I’ll give you written instructions for everything else.”

  Sheila sprang to her feet. “I have to tell Allison. She’ll be so thrilled! Do you mind waiting for a couple of minutes?”

  “Not at all.”

  Kayla watched the other woman enter Allison’s room. She smiled to herself. At least part of her day had turned out exactly right.

  ***

  Kayla opened the kennel door. Elizabeth stepped out and led the way to the grooming table.

  “Good girl,” Kayla said as the collie jumped into place.

  Kayla collected brushes and combs, then turned on the radio. Soft country music filled the small room at the back of the clinic.

  Elizabeth’s long coat required frequent grooming, but Kayla didn’t mind. She found the work relaxing, and after what she’d been through, she needed this. She knew giving Rhonda to Allison and her family had been the right decision. The dog deserved a great home, and Allison needed a friend. But Kayla had grown used to Rhonda’s sweet face. She would miss her.

  “Of course, I’m going to miss all of you when I’m gone,” she muttered.

  Elizabeth gave her an inquiring look, and Kayla stroked her silky ears. “Sorry, girl. Just moaning about nothing in particular. Ignore me.”

  There was a polite knock at the door. Kayla stuck out her tongue. There was only one person in the clinic who would bother knocking when she groomed a dog.

  “Come in,” she called, making a serious effort to keep the annoyance from her voice.

  As expected, Melissa Taylor glided into the room. Despite the late hour—it was after six—the vet looked as if she’d just stepped out of her bathroom. Long auburn hair curled around her shoulders. Makeup accentuated large, well-shaped eyes. Kayla vaguely recalled showering that morning. She’d even used mascara. Nearly twelve hours later, her clothes were covered with hair, she smelled like dog, and any hint of beauty products had been erased by time, sweat and enthusiastic doggie kisses.

  Either Melissa kept a stash of cosmetics and clothes in her car or she had a secret Kayla had yet to discover.

  Melissa pointed to the collie. “Elizabeth, right? You take her to visit seniors?”

  Kayla forced a smile. “Two correct answers.”

  Melissa smiled in return, exposing perfect teeth. Had she worn braces as a child? Kayla hoped so. The big ones, with rubber bands and a head brace. Of course, with her luck, Melissa had been born beautiful.

  Melissa approached Elizabeth and let the dog sniff her hand. When she’d been accepted, she petted the collie.

  Kayla didn’t bother watching. Whatever personal reasons she might have for disliking Patrick’s new vet, she couldn’t fault the woman’s treatment of the animals. She handled them well, knew how to calm them, and was a skilled surgeon. No wonder Patrick had hired her. The fact that her body was so incredible it looked airbrushed didn’t have anything to do with it.

  But it was still darned annoying.

  “What can I do for you?” Kayla asked, when it became obvious that Melissa had something to discuss but was nervous about bringing it up. The tight knot in Kayla’s stomach gave her a good idea about the subject matter. Oh, well. The day had been painful from the beginning.

  “I have a question,” Melissa said, not quite meeting her gaze. “Girl talk, really. But it’s personal.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “If that makes you uncomfortable, we don’t have to discuss it.”

  Kayla leaned against the grooming table and folded her arms across her chest. Elizabeth sat down to wait patiently. “You want some information?” Kayla asked, even though she knew the answer. There was no point in playing stupid. Might as well get it over with. “I assume this is about Patrick.”

  “Well, yes.” Melissa cleared her throat. “I know the two of you are friends.”

  “Good friends,” Kayla put in before she could stop herself.

  “Right. Good friends. And as his good friend, I thought you might know if he was involved right now. You know, dating someone important.”

  The only sign of Melissa’s nervousness came from the way she tossed her hair over her shoulders. A subtle clue, but enough of one for Kayla to see that the other woman wasn’t asking casually. Had she taken the job hoping to reach the point where she and Patrick would send out Christmas cards signed “Dr. and Dr. Walcott wish you all the joyousness of the season?”

  Six months ago, the thought of someone being that interested in Patrick would have thrilled her. She’d only wanted his happiness. Now, while she still wanted his happiness, she wasn’t sure the word thrilled described her feelings about him dating someone else.

  Melissa wanted to know if Patrick was dating someone important.

  Kayla remembered the night they’d made love, the warmth of his arms around her, the passion they’d shared. She thought about being near him, with him. Then she remembered back just a few hours, to that morning, when they’d been at the construction site. Despite everything they talked about, despite their once having been lovers, he hadn’t even hugged her.

  She looked at the beautiful redhead. “No,” she told Melissa. “Patrick isn’t dating anyone important at all.”

  Chapter Twelve

  You don’t have to do this,” Patrick said as Kayla smoothed the wallpaper into place. “I could hire someone.”

  She stepped back to admire her work. The paper was perfectly straight; the subtle pattern, cream with tiny flecks of blue and tan, gave texture and depth to the wall.

  “No way. I started this project, I’ll finish it. Besides, with everything going on, you won’t have time to hire anyone. If I don’t finish this, five years from now your living room will still be in a state of shambles.”

  She smiled as she spoke, trying to act as though everything was all right between them. As though they were just good friends getting together to work on a project. Obviously, she was doing a great job, because he patted her on the back and went to grab them both a soda.

  She watched him go, trying not to notice the way his shoulders filled out his shirt and his butt filled out his jeans. She’d always thought he had a nice body, but since becoming intimately familiar with the length and breadth of him, she found it difficult to focus on anything else.

  Time slipped through her fingers like shiny marbles, and there was nothing she could do to hold it back. Her twenty-fifth birthday was in three days, her trip to Paris a week after that. She’d thought…or hoped…that she and Patrick would be able to reconnect. Especially after their talk a few days ago at the construction site.

  But they hadn’t. He treated her as he always had. As if she were a combination of best friend and kid sister.

  Mayb
e she was at fault. After all, hadn’t she been the one to change the rules? If she hadn’t gone on that date with him, if they hadn’t made love, everything would be okay.

  Patrick returned with the drinks and the wrapped sandwich she hadn’t been able to finish earlier. She settled on the floor and unwrapped the plastic. He sat next to her and opened a bag of chocolate cookies.

  “I like it,” he said, glancing up at the wall they’d already finished. “The pattern is better than that floral junk the previous owner had used.”

  “That’s what you get for buying a house from a little old lady with a thing for flowers,” Kayla teased, remembering the pink sinks in the bathrooms and the dusty-rose flooring in the kitchen. Patrick had replaced both the first month he lived there.

  He motioned to the remaining blank space. “We’re not going to finish it tonight.”

  “Probably not, but it won’t be much longer. Now that the old stuff is off and the walls are prepared, it will go fast.”

  As he talked about buying new furniture, which she knew he would get around to doing in the next millennium, bits of their past washed over her. Time they’d spent together, things they’d done. Since graduating from college, she’d spent more time with him than with anyone else. She knew her sisters better, but they lived in other parts of the state.

  So many memories, so much caring and respect. Had it all been ruined by a single night of passion? She didn’t want to think so. She couldn’t regret being in his arms. For as long as she lived, she would carry with her the recollection of that night. No one else could have made her first time more special, more right. Having to do it all over again, she wouldn’t want to do anything differently. Yet if the price of passion was their special friendship, would she have a choice?

  Patrick picked up his soda and motioned to the wall. “I should have hired you to decorate the research facility.”

  “No thanks. I’m strictly an amateur. Besides, I don’t think the scientists are going to notice wallpaper and paintings. They’ll be too caught up in what they’re doing.”

  Instead of smiling, he looked away. “I hope so.”

  She shifted toward him. “What does that mean?”

  He shrugged. “Nothing, really. I guess I’m a little nervous about the whole thing.”

  “But this is what you’ve always wanted.”

  “I know.” He stared at her. “In my head, I can see it all happening. I have these great plans for continuing research I started before. If we’re lucky, we’ll make progress and do some good.”

  “You will,” she said, and placed her hand on his arm. “You’re the best, Patrick. You have vision, and the guts to go after what you want.”

  “Turning vision into reality isn’t guaranteed.”

  “I believe in you.”

  He covered her hand with his own. “Thanks. That means a lot. You don’t give your support lightly.”

  “You’ll always have my support. And anything else you need.”

  She made the comment lightly, but he didn’t seem to catch the humor. To make matters worse, he pulled his arm toward his side, dropping her hand to the floor.

  “I have something for you,” he said, leaning to his left as he pulled something out of his right rear pocket.

  She wasn’t fooled by the casual action. Patrick had deliberately physically disconnected from her. A band tightened around her chest. What had happened to them? Was it over forever?

  “Here.” He handed her a piece of paper.

  She opened it and found a list of names and cities. Next to each was a phone number. “I don’t understand.”

  “These are a few people I know over in France.” He pointed to the top two names. “Luc and Michael both live in Paris. I called them and told them you were a friend of mine and that you would be visiting. If you need anything, they’ll be happy to help you. Luc especially. Watch out for him. He’s a practiced heartbreaker. Not exactly in the same league as a prince, but the family owns a chateau somewhere in the South of France. Michael’s married. I’ve never met his wife, but she’s supposed to be nice.”

  Kayla frowned. “I’m still confused. How do you know these people?”

  “I’ve met them at the various symposiums I’ve been to. I also have a couple of friends in England and Italy. If you decide to go there, let me know, and I’ll put you in touch with them.”

  Light brown hair fell over his forehead. His white T-shirt enhanced his tan and brought out his blue eyes.

  She’d stared at his face thousands of times. She could draw it from memory.

  And yet she didn’t know him.

  Oh, she knew facts about his life, but she didn’t really know him. Patrick traveled to different symposiums and lectures several times a year. He often talked about the people he’d met there. People from other countries. She knew he kept in touch with several of them through the Internet and occasional phone calls.

  Still, the list of names shocked her. Patrick, whose difficult childhood had made him want to put down roots, had seen worlds she’d only dreamed about. He’d visited places, talked with strangers, made friends and invited them into his life.

  “Thanks,” she said, setting her untouched sandwich on the floor, folding the paper and tucking it into her shirt pocket. “I’m sure I’ll be fine, but it’s nice to know there’s someone I can contact if I need something.”

  “You’ll have a great time,” he said, and ate another cookie.

  “It’s going to be weird being away from everyone.”

  “You won’t miss anybody. There’s all of Paris to see, and besides, you’ll be too busy with your princes.”

  “Yeah.” Princes. That wasn’t likely to happen. And she didn’t care. Frankly, Luc’s chateau or Prince Albert’s fortune weren’t as appealing as she would have thought. She was perfectly comfortable right here in Patrick’s living room.

  “You’re going to be busy, too,” she said, knowing she was about to make the situation worse, but not able to help herself.

  “With the research facility.”

  “And with your new employee.”

  He raised his eyebrows.

  “Melissa is attracted to you,” she said, her voice teasing. Maybe she should consider a career on the stage. She was able to sound completely normal, as if the situation didn’t bother her in the least. Yet the pain inside was so bad, she half expected to faint.

  Patrick shrugged off her declaration. “Not interested.”

  “But she’s a redhead. Aren’t they your favorite?”

  He stared at her. “I told you they weren’t. Or don’t you remember?”

  His serious expression made her want to cry. Of course she remembered. She remembered everything about that night. What they’d talked about, how they’d danced together, the kiss on the dock outside the restaurant.

  “I—” She didn’t know what to say.

  Patrick finished his soda and set the empty can on the floor.

  Silence filled the room. The air thickened with tension. Kayla wanted to run away, but she didn’t have the strength to move. They both remembered. In the stillness, memories crowded around them.

  She longed for him, to be in his arms again. Her body heated. Tonight, they could be together. Tonight, they could relive the perfection and make it right between them. Here, in this house, where they’d spent their best moments together.

  She reached her hand toward him. “Patrick.”

  Either he didn’t notice, or he didn’t care. He stood up and placed his hands on his hips. “We should get back to work.”

  Somehow she stumbled to her feet and reached for the roll of wallpaper. Only when she attempted to focus on the subtle pattern and couldn’t did she realize her eyes had filled with tears.

  As she blinked them away, she tried to figure out what was wrong. So Patrick didn’t remember the past the same way she did. It wasn’t the end of the world. It wasn’t as if she were in love with him.

  Love. The word hovered in her
mind. Elissa claimed she, Kayla, was already in love with Patrick. Kayla wasn’t so sure. All she knew of romantic love was what she’d seen, read and been told. Mrs. Beecham had sworn love was a tornado that swept away everything in its path. Patrick said tornadoes destroyed. Who was right?

  But if she didn’t love him, why did she hurt so much?

  “Do you want me to measure for the next piece?” he asked.

  She looked at him, then at the wall. “No,” she said. “I don’t think I can do this anymore.”

  She wasn’t talking about the wallpaper, but he didn’t get that.

  “I can finish it up myself,” he told her. “No problem.”

  “You don’t have to. I can help. Just not tonight.” She walked to the door. “I—”

  He followed her. “You look tired, Kayla. Get some sleep.”

  Even as she told herself she was making a mistake, she turned and hugged him. She pressed her body tightly against his, letting all her feelings flow through her into him. Surely he would understand and respond. He had to.

  As her arms held him close and her hands stroked his back, she registered that he didn’t return the embrace. Shock immobilized her. It wasn’t until he gently put her away from him that she was able to move.

  She dashed out the door and along the driveway. Tears streamed down her face. Even as she raced up the stairs to her apartment, she listened for a voice that didn’t speak. Despite her fervent prayers, he never once called for her to come back.

  ***

  Kayla finished pouring the champagne and glanced at her sister. Fallon held the phone to her ear and listened.

  “Yes,” she said. “Okay, that’s great. I’ll tell them. We really appreciate everything. Uh-huh. Oh, thanks. Yes, I’ll pass along your best wishes.” She hung up and grinned. “That’s it. The money is released and has already been wired to our banks. It’s done!”

  “Finally,” Kayla said, feeling her mood lighten for the first time in days. She passed out the fluted glasses.