Ben held up his hands. “Nothing.” But Gregory knew him too well to fall for that fake innocence routine.
“You clearly know something. Tell me what you’ve heard.”
Ben sighed. “All right. Caitlyn may have been a little put out that you hurt one of her closest friends.”
Gregory groaned. Shit. Caitlyn was his best ally in Tamara’s circle of friends. He’d been hoping he could convince her to plead his case. But if she knew what happened…
“Tamara told Caitlyn about…everything?”
Ben smirked at his attempt to be coy about her past. “Everything. Apparently she came home pretty upset last night, so Marc called for some reinforcements. Caitlyn and Meg went over and…” He shrugged as he took another sip of his beer. “From what I heard, there was quite a bit of booze and chocolate involved.”
“Oh no.” Gregory moaned. He knew he’d hurt her, that much had been obvious. But the thought of her crying to her friends, of the pain he had caused and had been trying not to think about, stuck like a knife in his gut.
“I’ve been given orders to kill you,” Ben said. Then he shrugged. “Of course, Caitlyn was pretty drunk when she gave the order, so I’ll give you a pass this time.”
Gregory ignored the joking and leaned forward. “So what do I do? How can I make things right?”
Ben’s brows shot up in surprise, and it was no wonder—up until a few weeks ago, Ben had been the one struggling with new-relationship woes. And prior to that, his friend had been a disaster when it came to love. But now, against all odds—Ben was the resident expert.
And apparently he took his new role seriously. Leaning back in his seat, Ben crossed his arms over his chest and blew out a long exhale. “All you can do is keep trying. Her first impulse is clearly to run….”
Gregory nodded. That was putting it mildly. This was a woman who’d changed her name and run away from her family to escape the pain.
And now he’d gone and hurt her as well. His heart plummeted into his stomach at the thought. He’d done the worst thing imaginable and hurt the one person he cared for most. And now she’d run far away from him. He rubbed a hand over his eyes as he cursed under his breath. Could he really blame her?
Maybe his father had been right all along. Maybe he wasn’t cut out for a serious relationship. What if he always hurt anyone stupid enough to fall for him? Maybe he was better off with frivolous dalliances like what he’d had with Vanessa. At least in those relationships everyone had known the score. No one had gotten too close—certainly not close enough for him to hurt anyone the way he seemed destined to.
Like mother, like son.
The bitter thought was enough to make him slump down in his seat, suddenly exhausted. But his friend wasn’t done dispensing advice, and he owed it to Tamara to apologize, at the very least. He couldn’t let his issues with his father be the reason she retreated back into herself. She deserved better for her life.
She deserved better than him.
He shoved the thought away. That was his father talking. He could do better—be better.
Ben continued with his lecture. “I know she’s running from you, but you need to find her. Show her that you care enough that you won’t give up on her.”
Gregory nodded. That he could do. He would never give up on her, but the best thing he could do was protect her from himself. Make sure he never hurt her again. He needed another chance to show her that she could trust him and trust herself.
“How do you propose I apologize and make things right when she clearly doesn’t want to see me?”
Ben’s grin was smug as he called the waitress over for another round. “Tomorrow is Christmas, my friend. A day of forgiveness and new beginnings. And it just so happens I know exactly where she’ll be.”
* * * *
Marc hovered near the front door, one bag slung over his shoulder and the other sitting next to the door. “Are you sure you won’t come with me?”
Tamara bit back a sigh as she sank further into the couch and prepared herself for a cozy day of old movies. She was armed with multiple bottles of wine and the number for her favorite Chinese place.
Basically, she was setting up camp for a nice long day of not thinking about Gregory. An impossible feat since she couldn’t stop thinking about how she didn’t want to think about him. But maybe with a little peace and quiet she could ease the stabbing pain in her gut. Maybe with enough wine she could drown out the little voice that was screaming bloody murder at having been proved right.
She’d known all along that she couldn’t leave her past behind. That Gregory’s words about not caring about her history were too good to be true. Wasn’t that why she’d left her family and that social circle all those years ago? Even then she’d known she wouldn’t be able to be herself there, not without a constant reminder of those dark days with Billy.
Yet she’d stupidly thought Gregory was different. That she could trust him and that he actually cared about her.
She should have known! He’d openly admitted that almost everything he did was to get back at his father. Taking his father’s car, buying a run-down theater…. Dating high society’s lunatic. All part of the game.
She’d thought she’d cried until she couldn’t cry anymore the night before, but just thinking about her stupidity and Gregory’s painful words was enough to have her sniffling all over again.
Marc came over and moved a box of tissues from the kitchen to an end table next to the couch just in case. Wise man.
“Are you sure you don’t want—”
“I’ll be fine,” she said, waving him toward the door. “Go have fun with your family. I’ll see you in a couple of days.”
Marc looked unconvinced, but he took hold of the doorknob before giving her one last look over his shoulder. “Promise you’ll call if you need me? I can be back in the city in two hours.”
She nodded and held up three fingers. “Scout’s honor.”
Less than a minute after the door closed behind him, she heard a knock. Marc had never once been able to leave for a trip without coming back for some forgotten necessity, and apparently this time it was his keys.
“I told you you’d forget something,” she said as she pulled the door open.
The sight of Gregory in her doorway had her stomach twisting in agony even as her stupid heart threatened to leap out of her chest with joy.
Goddammit, why did he have to look so good?
Even with mussed hair and shadows under his eyes, he looked delicious. Dangerous.
And that’s exactly what he was, she reminded herself. He was a danger to her peace of mind and to her sanity.
There was no way she could risk that again.
For a second she contemplated shutting the door in his face. She’d always hated confrontations. But she wasn’t that girl anymore. This was her home, and he was the one in the wrong here. She pulled herself up straight and crossed her arms over her chest. “What are you doing here?”
She watched him suck in air and shove his hands into his pockets. What, had he been expecting a warm welcome?
His deep voice sent shivers through her despite her best efforts to guard against it. “I came to apologize.”
Words left her. It wasn’t that his proclamation was so stunning but the look in his eyes. The pain there was raw and genuine and… Oh shit, she didn’t want to feel sorry for him.
Spinning on her heel, she all but ran into the kitchen. She couldn’t face him, not yet. She needed just one moment to clear her head. Remember how badly he’d hurt her and how he would always hurt her. Hadn’t she learned that lesson six years ago? This would only end in pain; that was how it worked for her. It was why she’d sworn off relationships. Falling for someone meant giving them control. It meant losing herself, something she’d vowed she wouldn’t do a second time because the first time had
nearly destroyed her. It had taken years to recover, to earn back the confidence Billy had stolen from her. It had taken starting over and reinventing herself for her to figure out who she was apart from his lies and manipulations.
Gregory might not be another Billy, but that didn’t make him any less of a threat. The kindest man on earth still had the power to destroy her if she fell for him. Because falling in love intrinsically meant losing yourself, losing power, losing identity.
No, it didn’t matter who the man was or how noble his intentions; she’d promised herself she wouldn’t go down that path again. If only she’d remembered that promise earlier. Maybe then she wouldn’t be in this mess and maybe her heart wouldn’t be ready to shatter over this man.
She’d hoped to get some space to get her head on straight and remember why she had to be strong and stay away from him. But he followed right behind her. She felt the heat from his body as she came to a stop in the center of the kitchen.
“I’m sorry,” he said, his voice little more than a whisper.
Her throat closed up; she was choking on tears. Forcing them down with a swallow, she kept her back to him. She didn’t trust herself to face him. “I understand.”
And she did, that was the worst part. It had been too tempting.
“What do you mean, you understand?” He walked around so he was standing in front of her, so close she smelled his aftershave. Maybe if she held her breath her body would stop craving the feel of him. Despite her heartache, she found herself resisting the urge to move forward and lean against him.
“Tamara,” he said gently, insistently. “What is it you think you understand?”
A flash of anger shot through her, and she did look up then. Her gaze met his, and his head jerked back at whatever emotion he saw there.
“I get it,” she said. “You’ve never lied to me about your feelings about your father—your need to get back at him and spite him.” She swallowed again and forced her voice to remain steady. “No matter who gets hurt in the process.”
Gregory’s face fell, and the pain in his eyes was so convincing that it must have mirrored her own. “It wasn’t like that.”
“Wasn’t it?” She stared at the collar of his leather jacket, unable to meet his gaze any longer. “Because that’s how it seems. Like you found out my secret and realized you had the perfect weapon to get back at your father. He was always giving you a hard time over the women you dated, right? He wanted you to date someone in his social circle, I’m sure of it. I know your dad, remember?” She forced a laugh and it came out sounding as bitter as she felt. “So what… You met me and realized I was exactly the type of woman he’d been trying to force on you. But what luck! You found the one debutante who’d lost her mind, who’d caused a scandal. The one you could shove in your father’s face and make him—”
“Tamara, no!” His voice was loud and filled with anger as he cut her off. Taking her by the shoulders, he softened his tone. “It wasn’t like that. I never intended to hurt you. I didn’t set out to use you—”
“But you did.” That silenced him. The only sound was the hum of her refrigerator and her breathing. She tried to slow it but it sounded harsh, like she’d just run a marathon.
His gaze never left her face, but his hands dropped from her shoulders and her breathing came a little easier now that his touch wasn’t scalding her. She took a step backward and then another, wrapping her arms around her waist as her body grew cold.
“I never meant to hurt you,” he said again.
Her breath escaped in a short burst—nearly a laugh but not quite as she repeated herself. “But you did.”
* * * *
Gregory would do anything to take away the pain that etched her delicate features, making her appear more fragile than ever before.
He’d done that. His gut twisted in agony. He’d known he’d hurt her, but seeing it with his own eyes made it so much more real.
She deserved better, so much better. Shit, had he really thought he could make this up to her? That she would give him another chance after he’d shoved his foot in his mouth and exposed her to the kind of humiliation he’d sworn to protect her from?
He couldn’t protect her. His father had been right. Hell, even Vanessa had been right.
He watched her walk away from him, her shoulders slumped. The right thing to do would be to walk away—avoid hurting her any further. Because he would; he couldn’t help it. His father was right—he didn’t know the first thing about commitment. He’d devoted his adult life to this feud with his father and now he thought he could just flip a switch and somehow be the kind of man Tamara deserved? It didn’t work that way.
If he was being honest with himself, a future with Tamara would end one of two ways—he’d bail on her when she needed him most or he’d hurt her again. Even if he could make a commitment—and that was a big if—there was no way he wouldn’t disappoint her eventually. She’d get caught in the crossfire between him and his father, and there was nothing he could do to protect her.
“I’m sorry,” he said again. Because really, there was nothing else to say. He’d been a fool to think he could make this right. Oh, he could probably find words to make her feel better, maybe even make her forgive him. They could start over… But then what? Every past relationship flashed through his mind. It was time to face facts—he was a failure when it came to love.
His father was right. He wasn’t cut out for anything serious—and until he realized that, anyone he dated would be collateral damage.
She didn’t respond to his apology, and he took a few steps closer. He saw her stiffen and stopped. Frustration lanced through him like a knife. He wanted to promise her he would never hurt her again—but that would be a lie. For the first time in his life, his father’s words finally made sense. He didn’t have what it took to be serious. He’d never had a healthy relationship, and he couldn’t ask Tamara to hedge her bets on him. To take the chance that maybe, just maybe, her love would be enough to change him.
“I understand if you don’t want to see me anymore.”
He heard her short, humorless laugh. “That won’t be easy, since we work together.”
Right. Crap. This was exactly why he never got involved with women he worked with. Now he’d gone and muddied the waters at the theater in addition to everything else.
Great work.
There were so many things he wanted to say. Namely, he wanted to beg her for another chance. But even if she agreed to forgive him for the stupid remarks to his father, he couldn’t guarantee that he wouldn’t hurt her again.
There was nothing for it but to move on. Move forward. Make this as painless as he could for her and for him. So even as his chest tightened with a sickening ache, he forced himself to think rationally.
“I trust you to run things at the theater. I’ll have one of the company’s accountants take over looking at the theater’s financial history.”
She spun around, and her face was deathly pale. Her lips were pressed tightly together and her eyes were filled with pain. “So that’s your answer to this? Just run away from your commitments?”
It might as well have been his father he heard and not Tamara. Calling him out on his inability to see things through. He’d been so sure he could change. That his father was wrong and he was nothing like his mother, who had walked away the moment that things turned difficult.
And now here he was, about to do the same thing.
But it was for the best. He would protect her from future pain. He would only hurt her worse if they grew any more entangled. Maybe sometimes walking away was the right decision. Maybe it was for the best.
Looking at the pain so evident in her eyes, it was obvious—walking away was the best thing he could do for her. But to walk away, he had to shove his own emotions to the side. If he let his heart decide, he would be on the ground groveling for
another chance.
He steeled his features and met her gaze. “Did you really expect anything else?”
She studied him in silence for a moment before her lips twisted into a cynical sneer that was totally out of character for his sweet, genuine Tamara. Not “his” anything, he reminded himself.
“So you’re trying to live down to your father’s expectations now, is that it?”
His jaw tightened. He was trying to save her from making a mistake, dammit. “Just giving in to the inevitable.”
Some of the bitterness faded from her expression, and her defensive stance deflated slightly. For a minute he swore she saw through him—past all of the defenses, the years’ worth of games he’d been playing with Vanessa and the others. Even through the spite his father brought out in him that seemed to shape the course of his life. “What are you doing, Gregory?”
He opened his mouth to reply. Saving you from me. Giving you a chance to find someone worth your time—someone who can help you heal old wounds and not cause you even more pain. But nothing came out. He couldn’t bring himself to admit that he was pushing her away for her own good.
And then he lost his chance. Her eyes grew shuttered at his silence and her body stiffened once more, her arms wrapping around her waist.
She was going back into her shell—the one she’d spent years building around herself to keep her from having to face the wounds from her past and the risk of pain in the future.
He’d done that, he thought again.
He choked on a bitter laugh. His father would love this. He’d finally gotten it through his thick skull that his father had been right all along. All it took was breaking the heart of the one woman he’d ever truly loved.
Loved. The word reverberated through him and left him weak.
Holy shit. He’d fallen in love.
She was staring at him, but her gaze was unreadable. Did she feel the same?
He stumbled backward toward the door at the thought. Panic swept through him. All the more reason for him to get out now, before they were both crushed.
“I’m sorry,” he said once again as he made his way toward the door. He was keenly aware of her gaze on him. She saw too much. Knew him too well. He had to get out of there.
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