“Partnership? You mean…but what kind of partnership?” Certainly Demi couldn’t refer to a financial partnership. Not when her current resources amounted to a roll of cash she’d saved up from her tips.
“Don’t answer right now. I just wanted to you to think about while I’m away. We’ll talk when I get back. But working at the restaurant is much better since I have you there to help me. The two of us, together—it feels like home, you know? I just want to make that into a permanent arrangement.”
Now tears were seriously threatening her mascara. “It feels like home for me, too,” she said, with absolute sincerity. “I’ve loved being here, with all of you.”
“Good,” Demi said. “I’ve just been thinking, if one perfect thing can come true, why not ask for another one? Maybe there’s no limit to the good things you can have. You can’t know until you try, right?”
“That’s one way of looking at it,” Elisa faltered. “Thanks for asking. I just—”
“No, no. Don’t answer now,” Demi said quickly. “Don’t worry about anything now. We’ll work out the details later. We’ll have all the time in the world.”
A romantic ballad started up, and she saw Demi looking up at someone standing behind her. She turned to find Nate standing there.
“May I have this dance?” he asked.
Elisa had carefully prepared for this, and she had a whole list of polite brush-offs ready. Suddenly they were all gone from her head. “Ah….”
“Go ahead,” Demi urged her. “Dance. Enjoy yourself. You deserve a break. And we can all wait a few more minutes for the fruit and the dessert buffet.”
Then Eric walked over, smoldering at her. Demi gave them an apologetic smile and melted into her new husband’s arms as he swept her out onto the dance floor.
Nate looked down, his eyebrow tilted up expectantly. “So? What do you say?”
Elisa backed away. “No,” she said shakily. “No, I can’t. I have to go make sure everything’s good with the wedding cake. I told you. Too busy.”
She wended her way through the dancing couples, her eyes stinging and her face hot. No way could she put her arms around that man, right out in public, and sway to slow, romantic music, not while she was all worked up and emotional.
She would fall apart and start sobbing. She just knew it.
It was hard enough, running away, not saying goodbye to her friends. Demi was going to feel so hurt, and her sweet offer made everything ten times worse.
It was partly the bond she’d formed with Demi that had kept her in Shaw’s Crossing for so long, even when it was safer to leave. She trusted Demi, and felt trusted in her turn. Although she’d hidden the truth of her entire personal history. All of it. Name, family, place of origin, social security number, profession, marital status.
Everything she’d said about herself was a lie. Demi deserved honesty. And Elisa would never be able to give it to her, as long as she was caught in Gil’s trap.
It was embarrassing to have fallen for Gil’s slick act. To not have seen through him for so long. But then again, she’d been so used to Dad’s cool disapproval. When Gil started showing it, too, it had felt so familiar, she hadn’t recognized it as abuse.
Not until she had narrowly escaped being murdered.
Don’t think about that now, for God’s sake. Focus.
Back in the kitchen, she threw herself into frantic organization. The set-up of the fruit and dessert buffet, the choreography of the trays of espresso. Busy, busy.
The wedding cake was wheeled out to much fanfare, and the crowd gathered around to hoot and whistle appreciatively as Demi and Eric sensually fed pieces of cake to each other. Then the cake went back to the kitchen, and Elisa followed it to supervise the cutting and the serving.
After that, the reception devolved into a hazy blur of laughter, tearful hugs and kisses. Eventually, Demi and Eric came down from the upstairs suite, having changed into their regular clothes. The crowd followed the newlyweds outside to Eric’s Porsche to see them off. The car was slightly battered and scratched from its misadventures up at GodsAcre, when Eric and Demi had tangled with Kimball’s murderous crew, but if anything, that seemed to make Eric and Demi like that car even more. Almost as if the car was on their team and had the scars to prove it.
Elisa pushed her way to the front of the crowd and gave Demi a tight, shaking hug. “Thanks,” she murmured. “For everything. I’m so lucky to have met you.”
Demi hugged her, then pulled back, puzzled. “Hey,” she said. “Are you all right?”
“Yes, of course,” Elisa assured her. “Just tired and emotional. Have a great time on your tropical island getaway. Relax and have fun. You deserve a break from all of this craziness. I just wish you could take more time for yourselves.”
“This is way better than nothing.” Demi grabbed her. “I’m so excited,” she whispered. “All my dreams are coming true. And you’re a big part of that, too, you know.”
Elisa’s throat tightened, and she hid her face against her friend’s shoulder.
“Have a wonderful time,” she whispered brokenly. “Love you.”
Demi and Eric drove off to hoots and cheers, the tin cans tied to the back bumper rattling cheerfully as the Porsche disappeared into the dark.
And that was it. She wouldn’t see Demi again. Not in this life. Not unless her luck took an insane and improbable turn for the better. Not unless Fate got much kinder than Fate tended to be. And she wasn’t holding her breath for that.
She needed all her breath for running.
The very thought made her tired. Stale buses, dingy terminals. Washing up as best she could in nasty public restrooms. Crap food, cheap hotels and hostels. A constant stream of menacing strangers. The enormous, crushing solitude of it.
And the fear. Constantly looking over her shoulder for Gil’s hit men. Forever combing the web for news of her brother. Always with her pounding heart in her throat, until she felt like she was choking on it.
She should never have come to Shaw’s Crossing in the first place, considering its proximity to home. Her father had owned many homes up and down the West Coast, though he’d based himself in the Bay area, and she and Josh had even spent a couple of summers here in Shaw’s Crossing at a summer camp. It would have been smarter to get farther away from Gil than just two states, but Shaw’s Crossing had proved irresistible. Even her shabby little apartment over the restaurant had its funky charm, the big windows, the mountain view, lots of light for painting and drawing. She didn’t give a damn about the luxuries Gil had considered so essential to his dignity and rank. Just art supplies, good light, and being left the hell alone to do her thing, at least some of the time. Pure bliss.
The guests started leaving soon after Demi and Eric’s departure. Within a half hour, the place was emptied out. There was just Anton, Mace and Fiona, the catering staff, and the security people. And Nate, of course. Hanging around, giving her that look that made the memory of yesterday’s incredibly stupid, totally amazing kiss light up like a bonfire, blazing wildly in her mind.
Fiona gave her a brief, awkward hug. “You did great. The meal was delicious. Demi was thrilled. I’m sure you could get more work like this if you wanted it.”
“Yeah, you guys went over and above,” Anton agreed. “Why not knock off now, and do the clean-up tomorrow?”
“No, the Bluff House cleaning crew will be here early tomorrow,” Elisa said. “The Rotary Club has a buffet tomorrow, so we need to clear out. It won’t take long.”
“Well, then. Goodnight,” Fiona said. “Don’t worry about the DJ station. Anton and I will pick it up tomorrow morning.”
Mace lingered after Fiona and Anton strolled out, their arms wrapped around each other. “You coming back to the house now?” he asked Nate. “Who’s covering Anton and Fi tonight?”
“Mitch has got them,” Nate said. “I’ll just wait here. I wanted to talk to Elisa about that thing we discussed.”
“Ah.” Mace’s sp
eculative gaze flicked to Elisa. “Well, then. I’ll leave you to it.”
“Leave him to what?” Elisa asked, as Mace walked away. “Discussed what?”
“Oh, you know,” Nate said vaguely. “Security stuff. You and your staff shouldn’t be here all alone.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Elisa said. “We’re not at risk. We have no connection to anything that’s happening.”
“This town is fucking weird,” Nate said. “You can’t convince me otherwise. Bad things happen here with a regularity that defies statistical normality. I’ll stay until you’re done and then I’ll see you to your apartment. Don’t argue, because you’ll lose.”
“I can get a ride downtown with Tasha and Alba—”
“No,” he said. “I want to take you myself. We need to talk. I’ll explain later.”
She studied him, puzzled and wary. “Well, fine then. Stay if you must, but you’re going to be completely ignored.”
“Better yet, can I help?”
“Sure, if you’re serious. Help Tasha and Gomez stack up the chairs and get them over to the east entrance so they can be picked up in the morning.”
With Nate’s help, they got the chairs stacked and moved in record time, then packed up the extra food and hauled it out to the van. Tasha and Alba had already been charged with the task of stowing the uneaten food at the restaurant. Elisa had organized for Tasha to be in possession of the keys to the restaurant, not Elisa. Tomorrow, Tasha and Alba would make up the goodie trays for the shut-ins and the care home, and spend the rest of the day delivering them.
Elisa was on the verge of tears when she said goodbye to Tasha and Alba, but she fought it down, not wanting to make her colleagues worried and suspicious. She limited herself to a big hug and a whispered “thank you,” and watched their van bump and bob its way over the speedbumps until it made the turn to head downhill.
“You ready to go?” Nate asked her.
“A few last things,” she said.
She’d already done a walkthrough of the kitchen, but she did another one, taking her own sweet time. Stalling. She wasn’t quite ready to be alone with Nate in his car. To have him park near her apartment, and kill the engine, and sit there in the dark with her, the silence heavy with that burning question that she wanted so badly to answer. Yes.
She couldn’t. It would be stupid to give into temptation now, after fighting for so long. But either way, she was the loser. Either choice led to a lifetime of regret.
She wanted desperately to make love to Nate Murphy at least once before she ran away. To feel something real. Something hot and beautiful and bracing, before facing the cold that lay ahead.
But Nate Murphy would not be an easy man to run away from. Getting involved with her could get him killed.
She wouldn’t survive that guilt. Not a second time.
Nate waited patiently by the DJ station as she puttered around.
Then he leaned over, flipped some switches, manipulating the buttons.
“Don’t turn that on,” she said. “It’s so late.”
“There’s something I wanted to hear again. Yeah…here it is.”
The music started. After the first few chords, she realized that it was the same romantic ballad that had been playing when she’d refused to dance with him earlier.
He held out his hand. “No cake to cut,” he said. “No coffee to pour. Nobody snickering or whistling or giving us a hard time. Dance with me now.”
Oh no. Panic surged, along with excitement. Her heart accelerated. “Nate, that’s crazy,” she said. “It’s been a long day—”
“Just a dance. It’s not such a big deal.” He kept his hand out.
He knew damn well she wanted this. He’d felt it in yesterday’s kiss. He’d felt it probably from the day she met him.
And it was a very big deal. Huge, in fact.
Suddenly they were closer together. She hadn’t meant to move. It was inevitable. A force of nature. His arms circled her, and they began to sway to the slow, hypnotic pulse of the music. He was so big, so hot. So solid.
The music was loud. He hadn’t turned down the volume at all. She lifted her voice. “Nate, the neighborhood will call the cops if we—”
“Shhh,” he murmured. “It’s just for a few minutes. They’ll live.”
He leaned over her, dropping a delicate kiss on her ear. Shivers of intense awareness made her melt as his lips moved, on her jaw, her cheek.
Then he found her lips again, and claimed them. That sensual sorcery again, holding her in thrall with the sweet dance of lips and tongue, coaxing, teasing.
She clutched his neck and gave in to it. The wild, incredible sweetness of it. The freedom. Flying across the night sky, unleashed, unbound. Full of power.
If he asked to come to her bed, she would say yes. Hell, why even wait for a bed? Her breath caught as he bit her earlobe. Then he pulled her closer.
“Don’t react,” he whispered. “But this place is bugged.”
5
Damn. He’d miscalculated. Gotten the timing wrong. Her body was rigid.
She tried to pull away but he tightened his grip. “Don’t move yet,” he whispered. “Kimball’s bugs won’t pick us up with the music for cover. I know where they are. I was bug-sweeping when you threw me out earlier. Couldn’t tell you then.”
“Where?” She barely breathed the word.
“Air vent, smoke detector, and one of the lamp sconces. We’re all being monitored. Demi’s house, restaurant, Mace’s place, Fiona’s, Anton’s. Our cell phones are hacked. Our cars bugged. Kimball’s going all out.”
“Shit.” Her voice was barely audible. “Why didn’t you tell me before?”
He hesitated for a moment. “Later,” he whispered into her ear. “We’ll talk outside. Assume that any public place or indoor space is bugged from now on. I’ll give you a dedicated burner phone that’s clean. We can text on it.”
“But why to me?” she asked. “I have nothing to do with any of this. I draw cute chalkboard menus. I bus dishes and chop onions and do data entry. I’m a freaking errand girl around here.”
“Kimball knows that you exist, and he knows that Demi cares about you, which already makes you a target. And we’re all safer with you in the loop.”
“Well. Um. I’m honored, I guess.”
Her voice was tight and nervous. Her body had gone stiff. He missed that boneless softness she had before, when he’d been kissing her. She felt brittle now.
The song ended and Elisa stepped back. “Time to go.” Her voice had a forced brightness. “It’s really late.”
“Where’s your cell phone?” he asked.
“Don’t have one. I have a burner, but I seldom use it.”
Nate switched off the DJ station. “Let me take you home.”
She retrieved her coat. They walked out of Bluff House together and strolled silently toward the parking lot.
“Can we talk here?” she asked quietly.
“Here should be safe, but keep your voice low,” he replied. “Not in my car, though. It’s bugged. They might be watching, so keep it quiet and keep moving.”
“God,” she whispered. “This is unreal.”
“Yeah.” He slipped a burner phone discreetly into her hand. “Kimball’s stepping up his game.”
Their feet crunched loudly in the gravel in the silence that followed.
“Why didn’t you get rid of the bugs, if you knew where they all were?” she asked in a whisper.
“We’ll use them to draw him out when the time comes.”
“Ah. I see.”
“The Trasks just can’t live like this indefinitely,” he explained. “Always looking over their shoulder. Fucking torture. We have to get things going, or we’ll go nuts.”
Elisa let out a bitter sounding laugh. “Amen to that.”
She stumbled, and he took her arm, but she yanked it free and strode on.
He lengthened his stride to keep pace. “Hey. Elisa. Are you mad at m
e?”
“Why would I be?”
Whoa. Loaded question. Dangerous to answer. Silence reigned the rest of the way to his car, and for the drive down the hill and into the downtown area.
He parked down the block from Demi’s restaurant. The silence was killing him. He got out of the car and went around to her side, but she was already out and hurrying down the sidewalk before he got there.
He caught up with her swiftly. “Elisa,” he said. “Talk to me. What is it? Did I say something to piss you off?”
“No,” she said. “I mean, yes. I’m just embarrassed, but I’ll get over it.”
“Embarrassed?” He was bewildered. “About what?”
She snorted. “Nate, if you needed to clue me in that Bluff House was bugged, you could have done it without tongue-kissing me into a stupid daze and then blindsiding me like that. It made me feel so clueless. Falling for an act.”
“What? You’re joking, right? An act?”
“Keep your voice down,” she whispered. “You said yourself we’re being listened to.”
“After following you around like a puppy for months, you think that was a fucking act?” His voice was furious. “I’ve been carrying a goddamn torch for you since the day we met. Every person I know is embarrassed for me. There is nothing about that kiss that was not real for me. Are we clear on that?”
“Yes. Okay. I hear you.” Her eyes slid away. “Sorry.”
“My intention was just to dance with you and take the opportunity to whisper in your ear,” he said. “The kiss just happened before I knew what I was doing.”
“I didn’t mean to piss you off,” she said. “Please, calm down.”
He cursed softly. They stopped at her entryway, and he stood there, steeling himself for a cool dismissal. “Goodnight,” he said stiffly.
Elisa rattled her key in the lock, and turned to him. Their eyes locked.
The look on her face made his heart kick like a horse fighting its stall.
He reached out and brushed his fingertip across the fine texture of her cheek. A lock of her dark hair blew across his hand. So warm and silken. He slid his fingers into her hair and pulled her closer.
Heedless: The Hellbound Brotherhood Book Four Page 5