She was pouring herself a third drink when the pounding started. There was someone at her door, an irate someone by the sound of it. No doubt it was a reporter trying to get a scoop. She put down her glass, walked over to the door and stuck her eye up against the peephole.
Damn it to hell, it was Cole.
I could pretend I’m not home.
“Eva, open up,” he said loudly as his fist continued to pound on her door. “I know you’re in there. I can see your eye shifting.”
Damn it.
She opened the door a crack, to tell him to leave, and, anticipating just such a maneuver, he shoved it open with his shoulder. He was talking on the phone as he entered the apartment. “Yes, she’s fine,” he said to the person on the other end of the line. His eyes swept the room and settled on the bottle of whiskey. “She’s been drinking some Johnnie Walker and looks a little worse for wear, but she’s fine.” He paused. He listened. He nodded “Yes, I’ll tell her to call you.”
Cole shoved his phone in his pocket and stared at her angrily. Eva wasn’t prepared for his anger and took a step back.
“That was Ruth,” he said calmly. “She wants you to call her. She’s been trying to get in touch with you all day.”
Eva nodded. She knew Ruth wanted to talk to her, but Eva wasn’t ready for her yet. She wasn’t ready for anything but oblivion. “I don’t want to talk to anyone,” she said, her voice surprisingly steady, despite the two shots of whiskey on an empty stomach and his surprising, always disconcerting presence. Then she turned her back on him and walked into the living room, leaving him alone in the kitchen. Her body language spoke volumes and the message was clear: You can go now.
But Cole wasn’t going anywhere and he followed her into the living room. Eva sat on the couch and pulled her blanket around her, feeling cold again. The whiskey warmth, only a temporary solution, had deserted her.
She couldn’t imagine why he was here. Well, actually she could and none of the reasons were satisfactory: He felt a misguided sense of chivalry, he was angry at her for deceiving him, he wanted to break up properly.
Eva knew it was best if they had it out, but the thought of doing this now almost destroyed her. She’d been through so much already. Didn’t he have the decency to see that?
But she would do this now while she was still half numb from whiskey and betrayal. And she comforted herself with the knowledge that this moment would have come sooner or later. What they had together—Cole and Eva, the affair—wouldn’t have lasted. During the whole of their relationship, this breakup scene had been a small ship on the horizon. It didn’t matter what brought it to shore: her crimes, his boredom. Its occurrence was inevitable. Cole would have moved on to the next willing female soon enough. That it was happening now rather than later she owed to the villain who’d set her up. Perhaps she should thank him or her.
There was something about grief and sadness that made all of this startlingly clear. Last night, while they’d been looking at photos of Ruth and Mark’s honeymoon over dessert, she had thought that she and Cole stood a chance, but that was just a giddy delusion brought on by happiness and perfectly prepared crème brûleé. She knew that now.
When Eva didn’t say anything, Cole took the lead. “So let me tell you a bit about my day: There I am in the office, trying to get in touch with you, which I’ve been doing nonstop for several hours, when Mrs. Hemingway tells me you called to cancel dinner and, it seems, our entire relationship.” He spoke slowly and calmly as if nothing were wrong, but Eva could see the anger burning in his eyes. She pulled the blanket tighter around her shoulders. “After she gave me your message, I hopped immediately into the car to come here. And during the drive down, I said to myself, Don’t get angry. Think of the day she’s had. In with Oliver Murray and Carlin Jeffers for six hours.” Noticing her wide, surprised eyes, he nodded. “Yes, I know exactly what your day has been like. I made a few calls and found out everything. So I told myself to be patient and understanding and not angry. Anger, I told myself, is the last thing she needs after all she’s been through. And yet here I am with the damnedest urge to strangle you.” He sat down next to her on the couch and spoke with quiet menace. “How dare you try to kick me out of your life?”
Eva felt the tears well up in her eyes. Damn it! She’d gotten through the entire ordeal without one single drop and now a deluge threatened to overwhelm her. But it mustn’t. She couldn’t kick him out of her life while she was crying. He’d never go. He’d never believe that she was no longer smitten with him. She took a deep breath and got her emotions under control.
It cost her much, but Eva managed to laugh. She thought laughter conveyed an indifference that no other reaction to his speech could. “Really, Cole, don’t be so dramatic. I’m not kicking you out of my life. We can certainly have lunch now and then,” she said, striving for a sort of been-there-done-that sophistication that had always been repellent to her.
Cole wasn’t the least bit fooled, perhaps because he’d spent so much time with women who had really been there and done that. Instead of saying that they could indeed still be friends, he laughed. And it wasn’t the sad little trickle that Eva had treated him to moments before but a robust amused sound. “I don’t know if you’re being noble or stupid,” he said, shaking his head. “All I know is that you’ve been wounded and poorly treated and are about to pass out from exhaustion and perhaps alcohol. So I’m going to put you to bed and you can try to break up with me again in the morning when you’re well rested. Do note, Eva darling, that I said try. You won’t succeed, of course, but for some reason—nobility or stupidity—you feel a need to get rid of me right now.”
If he had taken another tactic, Eva might have been able to withstand him. If he had held on to his anger or made some threats, she might have been able to turn away from him, but this bemused good humor, as if he really did understand her, completely destroyed her defenses. Everything else in her life was about to be taken away—reputation, respect, career—and yet this one thing, this one beautiful thing, was standing in her living room refusing to budge.
She threw herself into his arms. “I thought you’d believe it,” she said, tears flowing down her cheeks.
He held her tight and rubbed her back comfortingly as the storm of emotion overtook her. “I know.”
“I couldn’t believe it this morning when they escorted me from the building and then they started interrogating me. I thought—” She broke off here to take a deep breath. It was hard to talk and sob at the same time.
“Shh,” he said softly. “I know.”
But Eva couldn’t stop. The flood gates had been opened. “I thought it had to be some awful mistake, but they just kept showing me document after document with my name on it.”
He tightened his arms around her. “I know, but it’s going to be all right. Trust me.”
Eva appreciated the comfort—indeed reveled in it—but she couldn’t quite bring herself to trust him that much. There was no telling what would happen, and even the great, hugely imperious Cole Reed Hammond held no sway with the Justice Department.
After a while, Eva cried herself out and started to calm down. She was aware of how solid Cole felt, how dependable, and for the first time that day, she thought she might get through this disaster with his help. But she wouldn’t let him be tarnished with her brush. She kissed him softly on the cheek with wet, salty lips and then pulled back. She wasn’t going to kick him out of her life—she understood how impossible that would be now—but she would still try to push him to the margins for a little while. “I’m better now,” she said with a hiccup. “Thank you.”
He examined her carefully, not quite convinced that she was okay. “Can I get you something? Some water?”
“Water would be nice, yes.”
Once he was several feet away from her, she proposed her plan. She couldn’t have done it while in his arms, but now that he was in another room she could muster strength for an argument. “I don’t think we
should see each other for a while.” With a glass in hand, he looked at her with patent disbelief. Hadn’t they just jumped this hurdle? “No, no. I’m not breaking up with you,” she rushed to explain. “No, really. I just think we should put a little distance between us for the duration of this mess. There’s no reason for your name to be dragged into this any more than it already is.” When he remained doubtful, she tried another approach. “Think of your mother. What would she say about the scandal?”
Cole sat down on the couch and took her hand in his. “Quite frankly I don’t care what my mother has to say on the topic, but since you asked, she believes it’s utter nonsense and suggested quite strongly that I sue the United States government on your behalf for defamation of character.”
This was lovely to hear, but it didn’t dissuade Eva from her goal. “I won’t put you or your mother through this. It’s not fair. This is my problem.”
“I beg to differ, my dear. It’s our problem.”
He said it so matter-of-factly that Eva almost believed him. “No, listen to me, Cole, it’s already bad and it’s going to get much worse. Didn’t you see that story on Gawker? They’re saying I had an affair with Ethan. Isn’t that ludicrous? But people already believe it. My own friend, the guy I’ve sat next to for almost two years, was quoted as saying we were lovers. And Ethan didn’t deny it. He said no comment with a sly grin! And if they could do that with some stupid unsubstantiated rumor, just think of what they could do with you. You’re rich and powerful and all the things that their salacious minds love. What will they make up about you? I can’t bear to think about it. Their lies make you feel dirty and cheap, and I won’t let that happen to you. I won’t.”
He listened to her earnest speech silently and considered the problem from her point of view. He respected her desire to protect him—it was exactly the way he was feeling—but he couldn’t let her do it. He couldn’t let her go through this alone. After a moment, he said, “I love you, Eva. I’m not going to abandon you to the wolves.”
Eva froze as a sliver of joy wrapped itself around her heart. This was the only thing that would possibly redeem the worst day in the history of the world and there it was: Cole loved her. She could almost hear the angels singing, it was so miraculous.
Too miraculous.
She came crashing down to earth, and Cole watched in amazement as she shook her head. “No, no, you don’t.”
He almost smiled at the conviction in her voice. Somehow her reaction didn’t surprise him. “I don’t?”
“It’s just pity. You’ve never loved me before.”
“Again, I must beg to differ,” he said calmly, watching the play of emotion on her face. “I loved you when you handed Mrs. Hemingway the pen, I loved you when you were spitting Mr. Hammonds at me, I loved you when you were trying to be prim and proper in my mother’s front parlor, I loved you when you were laughing over Ruth and Mark’s honeymoon pictures last night, and I loved you when you had Mrs. Hemingway break up with me an hour ago. If I loved you then, why should I not love you now?”
“But…but…” she stammered, terrified to believe it and yet too scared not to. “I didn’t …you never…”
“After all the times you’ve pushed me away,” he said reasonably, “why am I still here?”
Eva felt a strong compulsion to push him away yet again, to continue to argue or reason with him, but she resisted the urge and let her worst nature win. She would not talk him out of loving her. Eva knew very well that she couldn’t do better no matter how many men she met. And she didn’t mean his wealth and influence. No, she knew she’d never find a better human being to love than he.
“I love you too,” she said quietly.
Cole rested his forehead on hers. “I know.”
She rolled her eyes, suddenly feeling happy despite the dreadful circumstances. And it wasn’t just that she knew he loved her, it was the mind-boggling idea that she didn’t have to fight this battle alone. “That arrogance of yours…” she murmured.
“Yes, quite. But that’s not why,” he explained. “I didn’t know how you felt until you tried to kick me out of your life. I thought you were fond of me, but then you didn’t even think of inviting me to your best friends’ wedding—”
She pulled away, laughing. “I’ve already apologized for that.”
He pulled her back. “Apologize again.”
Eva, who would not have believed it possible ten minutes before, perhaps not even five minutes, felt lighthearted enough to giggle. On the day she’d suffered a six-hour Justice Department inquisition, she actually giggled! Then she raised her head and kissed Cole. It was meant to be a quick gesture, a half-hearted apology at best, but as soon as her lips touched his all thoughts of pulling away vanished. He felt so good, she thought, her heart pounding in response, even better than he had yesterday, his embrace having grown significantly more dear for having been so nearly lost.
Cole returned the kiss with an ardor that surprised him. He’d meant to stay aloof and cool and a little detached. She was exhausted from all she’d been through, he knew that. He could see it in every line of her body and in the green depth of her eyes. But she shattered his control. She always shattered his control. As far as he was concerned, Eva Butler was irresistible. She was always too tempting to withstand and right now he was too relieved that she’d given in without a fight to make an attempt. Or, rather, a real fight. The resistance she had put up had been significant, but it didn’t stand a chance against his determination and the knowledge that she must love him terribly to want him gone so badly.
Eva moaned and Cole pulled her closer, tasting whiskey on her breath, another reminder, as if he needed one, that she wasn’t quite herself. He pulled away with great reluctance. “I love you,” he said, tenderly brushing the hair out of her eyes.
Eva found it easier to accept the second time around. “Thank you.”
Cole laughed softly. “For loving you?”
“No, for not believing it, any of it. And for not even asking for an explanation.” She kissed him on the cheek and rested her head against his shoulder. “Thank you.”
“Don’t be silly,” he said dismissively, leading her to the couch and pushing her down. He wrapped the blanket around her and tucked a pillow under her back. “Anyone who knows you knows it’s not true. Even Mrs. Hemingway, who still resents the smooth way you got past her that first day, recognized it was nothing but lies and fabrication.”
Eva raised an eyebrow. “Mrs. Hemingway’s in my corner?” she asked, not quite able to believe the dour retainer as her champion.
“Mrs. Hemingway, my mother, Ruth, Mark—you’re not in this alone,” he assured her.
She reached for his hand and squeezed it. “I know. Thanks.”
“No thanks are necessary. This is what you do when your friends are in trouble: You stand by them,” he explained matter-of-factly. Then he stood up and disappeared into her bedroom. He went to the closet, found a small suitcase and put it on the bed. “If you feel up to it,” he said from the other room, “I’d like to hear what happened today from your perspective.”
Much to her surprise, Eva was happy to tell him about it. So much injustice had been heaped on her head by the Justice Department that she welcomed the chance to vent about it to someone. The defeat she’d felt when she climbed the stairs to the apartment had been replaced by anger.
Eva ran through the day’s events, starting with David’s speculation that morning that something big was going down and the dismissive attitude she’d taken. How ironic to think about that now in light of recent events. She ran through Murray’s questions, explaining the slow way horror and understanding had penetrated.
“I had no idea when they showed me the first email what was in store—or that they had a folder an inch thick full of more emails supposedly from me,” she said now, bitter at the recollection. “And they never once gave me the benefit of the doubt. They just kept asking the same questions over and over again, as if my
answers would change the more times they asked. Innocent until proven guilty. Ha!”
She railed against the inadequacies of the Justice Department—“Their coffee is shit, by the way”—and when she burned off her anger, she lamented the lost illusion of her promotion. How proud she’d been to get it and how devastated she was to know she didn’t deserve it.
While she talked, Cole packed her bag. He threw a week’s worth of clothes into the suitcase and zipped it up. Then he went into the bathroom and collected her toiletries. Eva didn’t notice. She was lying on the couch with her eyes closed.
“No wonder Ethan thought I’d be open to dallying with the boss. I’d already demonstrated myself to be entirely without morals. He probably thought sleeping my way to the top was the only route I’d consider,” she observed with a harsh laugh.
Airing such negative thoughts had the converse affect of improving Eva’s mood, and she sat up, feeling hungry for the first time in hours. She recalled the limited choices in her fridge and rejected every one. It would be far better to order in. But what was she in the mood for? Sushi? It was an extravagant expense, but if she couldn’t treat herself to a decent meal on a day like this, when could she. Eva got up to fetch her stack of menus by the front door. As she flipped through them on the couch (Uyee? No, there was too much mayo in the tempura roll. Tomoe? Hmm, last time the Philadelphia roll was a little skimpy on the cream cheese), she decided to take another stab at reasoning with Cole. She was no longer on the verge of complete and total collapse, which should probably strengthen her argument.
“Cole,” she called, wondering for the first time what he was doing in her bedroom, “I really think we should at least discuss some sort of arrangement in which we play down our relationship for the press.”
Winner Takes All Page 24