“See you soon.” As Kylee drove off in her blue Camry, she saw Troy put an arm around Elaina, his blond head bending toward hers in a manner more personal than Kylee had ever witnessed between them. Had they become involved? She knew that Troy had been separated from his wife for six months as they finalized their divorce and that Elaina was unmarried. Logically, it would be natural for them to be drawn to one another. Both were attractive; both loved and worked for the same thing. Kylee was grateful to be a part of making their shared dream come true.
She had nearly reached her home in Glendale when she remembered Bill. There was a man whose dream had been utterly destroyed though no fault of his own. How had he endured these last few years alone in a world where no one could share his grief? Why had he left France and his family?
With one hand still on the steering wheel, Kylee took out the handkerchief and brought it to her face. It smelled of spicy aftershave.
Heart thumping loudly, she brought the car to a stop and opened the safe. After a few minutes of searching through the checks and promise notes, she found Bill’s check. His address was located about an hour away in Newport Beach, but if she tried, she could make it before midnight.
Why had he left without saying goodbye?
She stopped by her apartment to put the checks in her more secure alarmed safe, and once back in the car, she consulted her Thomas Guide to locate Bill’s address. Following the map’s directions, she took the 5 to the 55 until it ended at Newport Beach. But when she arrived outside the group of condominiums near the address on Bill’s check, she was aggravated to see a gate blocking the entryway. A gated community. She should have known; Newport was filled with such exclusive residences, and Bill was, after all, a well-to-do plastic surgeon. Now she would either have to jump the six-foot fence, ring Bill on the call pad next to the gate, or give up and go home.
Kylee never gave up easily, and she felt even more determined after driving such a long way, so that left two choices. Or one really, because she wasn’t about to give Bill the chance to brush her off. She parked the car on the side of the road and began to climb the fence—not an easy feat in her tight dress. She had to pull the sequined material up to resemble a miniskirt, her face flushing in the dark. If anyone was watching, they would see more than a little of her bare legs—even in the moonlight.
As she climbed, her car keys dug into the soft skin on her palm. To make it worse, her jacket became stuck on the fence, and she had to climb back up to get it down. Why didn’t I change at home? But she knew why. She had been so anxious to find Bill that clothing hadn’t entered her mind.
Why do you have to see Bill now? The question plagued her.
Because he had helped her at the banquet. Because he had left without saying goodbye. Because Nicole was dead, and Kylee had to be sure that Bill was all right. Because if she didn’t come tonight, she might not have the courage tomorrow.
Once her dress and jacket were back in place, she still had a long walk to Bill’s place. Kylee peered through the dark at the address on each condo.
“Stop right there.” A flashlight waved in her face, and Kylee's heart nearly jumped out of her chest. “Who are you?” the deep voice demanded, “and what are you doing here?”
“Kylee Stuart,” she managed. “I’m here to see . . . to see someone.” The man was closer now, and Kylee could see he wore a guard’s uniform and a blue jacket. He had brown hair and a stern face, but she couldn’t make out the color of his eyes. To her relief, he didn’t seem to have a gun.
Just my luck, a gated community with a live guard.
“Why didn’t you ring at the gate?”
Kylee thought fast for an answer. “I . . . I wanted to surprise him.” She took a step back. Could she run for it?
The guard moved even closer, and Kylee quickly gave up the idea of fleeing. He looked as though he was in good shape, probably better than she was. His eyes traveled over her sequined dress, and Kylee blushed when she realized that he must have seen her climb the gate. “Well, you don’t look like a criminal so I won’t call the police—this time. Come on. Let’s take you back to your car.”
No! That wasn’t what Kylee wanted at all.
She put a hand on his arm. “Look. I need to see my friend. Please.”
“It’s against the rules.”
“Couldn’t you just bend them once?”
“I could lose my job,” he said, but his voice was less stern.
Kylee pushed. “I won’t let you. I promise. I’ll take full responsibility. Just let me go to his place and see if he lets me in. If he doesn’t, I’ll leave with you.”
The guard hesitated.
“Please. I just found out tonight that his wife died. She was my friend.” Kylee was accustomed to being persuasive, but she experienced a qualm of guilt about using Nicole this way—even though it was the truth.
The guard relented. “Okay then. I’ll watch you knock on his door from a distance.”
“Thank you so much.”
The guard helped her find Bill’s condo, but when they arrived, she was shaking as much with cold as with nervousness. The hand she lifted to ring the doorbell faltered. It was nearly midnight. What if he was sleeping? But he hadn’t left too much earlier than she had, and after the excitement of the evening, she doubted he could be asleep already.
If he is, he can just get up. I might die with the cold if he doesn’t.
Kylee firmly pushed the white button. There was no answer so she jabbed at it again. She had turned to go back down the walk when the door finally opened, and Bill appeared in a sliver of light, wearing a black silk robe. His dark hair was wet and tousled, and when she approached his eyes looked red, as though he’d held them under the shower for a long time. Kylee did this, too—on those rare moments when she thought about Raymond and their brief, tempestuous marriage. The water made the red eyes explainable when tears weren’t supposed to be an option.
Bill’s eyes widened in surprise. “Kylee?”
“Uh, yeah.” Suddenly she was speechless. She, the woman who could normally talk rolls of money out of the hardest of billionaires. It didn’t make sense.
“Do you know what time it is? Never mind, come in out of the cold. You look like you’re freezing.” Bill backed away and opened the door wide. With an inconspicuous nod at the guard, Kylee gladly headed for the light, sighing as the warmth inside the condo rushed out to embrace her.
“In here,” Bill said, leading the way to a comfortable sitting room. “Do you want a blanket? Your lips are kind of blue.”
“It’s not really cold out there. Compared to my hometown in Minnesota this is a heat wave. I’m fine.” She set her car keys on the coffee table.
He laughed. “You don’t look fine. Sit down and put this blanket on you. I was just going to make hot chocolate. Do you want some?”
His words reminded her of how many times she and Nicole had shared hot chocolate in France. Nostalgia clogged her throat, and she nodded. At least with him out of the room, she could regain her composure.
Bill left, and Kylee began to look around the sitting room. Covering most of one wall was an enormous cherry entertainment center filled with a large-screen TV and a stereo system with a half-dozen speakers. On the middle of another wall was a full-size fireplace, set for a fire, but unlit. Not a single snapshot or knickknack stood out on the dark mahogany mantle. The rest of the room was sparsely furnished with a brown leather couch, a matching chair, and a coffee table stacked with books and magazines.
The only picture in the room was an amateurish charcoal drawing of a young couple. The portrait hung in a dark frame next to a shelf of books that reached from the floor to the ceiling. There were no other furnishings or pictures of any kind. If she hadn’t known him before, she would never have believed that this was a man whose apartment in France had been covered with drawings of nature scenes and portraits he had sketched himself on the many hikes he had taken with Nicole. Bill had obviously eradicated his f
ormer life from his present, which meant he likely resented Kylee’s appearance.
Kylee clutched the handkerchief in her hand and wished she hadn’t come.
Standing, she crossed the room to study the charcoal portrait more closely, and it was then she noticed that all the books on the shelves were written in French. Maybe Bill hadn’t erased the past as thoroughly as she had thought.
CHAPTER FOUR
Bill was glad to escape from Kylee and gather his thoughts. He wasn’t prepared to talk with anyone tonight—especially to someone who knew the truth about his life. At the same time he found himself glad it had been Kylee at the door instead of one of the former patients or colleagues he had dated over the past couple years. They had a way of turning up at his house at moments when they were least expected. He had soon learned that each was searching for something he couldn’t give—the vital part of his heart that had died with Nicole. He couldn’t love them with any degree of true emotion, and after experiencing real love, he found he couldn’t settle for cheap imitation. Still, he’d been trying to get out more, and rumor had it he was becoming a ladies’ man. Only he and the women he dated knew the truth—that he was a perfect gentleman. A bit cold and remote, perhaps, but always a gentleman.
He put milk on to simmer and went upstairs to his master suit. It filled the entire top floor and had been equipped with every luxury—a deluxe bathroom with a dual shower and jetted tub, an exercise room, a spacious balcony, a window seat, and even a mini-bar. But it was studiously uncrowded with furniture or accessories. He had once planned to make the empty exercise room his studio, but recently his artistic side had been focused not on drawing, but on fixing the flaws people found in their bodies. He saw it as using the same skills in a different medium. He was good at what he did and satisfied with his life. He didn’t need his drawings to be complete.
Discarding his silk robe, he pulled on a pair of khaki pants and a long-sleeved T-shirt before hurrying back to the kitchen. He placed the pot of hot milk, cups, and containers of different chocolate powders onto a battered wood serving tray. Not bad for a bachelor, he thought.
A sudden, unpleasant thought forced its way into his brain. Had Kylee come to ask him to perform surgery for Children’s Hope? He remembered the pleading faces of the deformed children, and his stomach tightened. Their innocence reminded him too deeply of Nicole, of her screams that day and his utter helplessness. Those children would be like Nicole, trusting and believing in a God that did not exist and could not save them. No, he couldn’t perform any miracles for them. He’d given them money, but beyond that he didn’t want any part of it.
Shaking off the feeling of dread, he walked into the sitting room to see Kylee studying the charcoal portrait on the wall next to his books. She started as he entered, and the blanket around her shoulders dropped to the floor, leaving her silver sequined dress to reflect the light. There was something about the way her green eyes gazed up at him—so startled and unassuming. How long had it been since he had seen anyone look that way? The women he had been dating were full of assumptions and plans. No innocence there.
Maybe she hadn’t come to use him.
“Interesting,” she said, inclining her head toward the drawing.
“Not very good, but it’s the only one I have of my parents.”
“Did you draw it?”
For a moment Bill said nothing, completely taken aback by the fact that she had once known him well enough to ask the question. That had never happened in America. “I was ten,” he said finally. “I never thought to make another.” Now it’s too late, he added silently.
Bill pushed aside a stack of magazines and set the loaded tray on the coffee table. Kylee picked up the blanket from the floor and returned to the couch. He noticed she didn’t put the blanket on again and that her lips were no longer blue.
He sat on the couch, leaving a big space between them, and began spooning chocolate powder into his milk, motioning for her to do the same. “So what brings you out here so late?” He tried not to grit his teeth as he spoke.
“I wanted to thank you.” She smiled wryly. “And to bring you this.” She held out her hand to reveal a crumpled handkerchief.
Bill relaxed and gave her a smile. “Any man who can afford to give ten thousand dollars to a charity can also afford to buy a new handkerchief.”
“I know,” Kylee said, amusement thick in her voice. “The truth is . . . well, I was worried about you, and I wanted to see how you were doing.”
Out to rescue another person, Bill thought. Some things never change. Still, he’d bet money that wasn’t the only reason she’d come. She couldn’t be as innocent as she appeared.
Kylee finished mixing her chocolate and took a sip. “Your donation set off a lot of wonderful things tonight. It’s always the first one that’s the most difficult, you know. Some organizers actually put a few plants in the crowd to elicit responses, but I never have. I want it to be real. Besides, the children spoke for themselves.”
“They did,” Bill agreed. “But I found it rather odd that you would announce the amount of my donation to the entire crowd.”
Kylee stiffened, apparently hearing the sharp edge to his words. “I thought that’s why you gave it to me. People always want recognition.”
“Why? So they can intimidate others into donating? To top their offer?” He knew his voice was bitter, but he didn’t care. “I don’t want that kind of recognition. And I certainly don’t want to force others into donating.”
Her cup clinked onto the table. “Forced into donating? Forced into donating? Don’t be ridiculous, Bill! These people are multimillionaires. They use more money on a weekend shopping spree to Europe than they donated tonight. They aren’t babes in the woods that I’m taking advantage of. These are grown adults with enough business savvy to run entire corporations. They knew what they were getting into when I invited them tonight. It was a charity dinner, and they expected to be asked for money. Each of them knew darn well how much they could give—if I showed them a good reason. So I did. We raised nearly three million dollars. Three million! With more promised. Some of them have asked for the video I made of the children to show their friends, and I’m planning to put it on TV.” She sat on the edge of the sofa now, her face flushed and her green eyes flashing indignantly. “This is going to change lives, Bill. Children’s lives. I’ve done something good!”
His irritation diminished in the face of her vehemence. “Okay, okay,” he said, “you have me convinced. I guess you’re probably right about these things. I mean, what do I know? I usually donate through the mail.”
The color in Kylee’s face faded. She removed her flimsy jacket, picked up her hot chocolate, and settled back on the sofa. “Yeah, well there aren’t many people like you. Most want to be recognized for their donations. Take one of the guys who gave us a hundred thousand dollars tonight. He just had to come up to the podium himself to make a plug for his corporation. I’ll bet he sends his photo to the newspaper reporter we had there.”
Bill picked up the handkerchief Kylee had dropped on the table. “I know you mean well, Kylee, but . . .”
“You’re not comfortable with asking people for money. I wasn’t either at first. But then I discovered that there are too many people out there who need help but can’t ask for themselves. That’s why I do it for them.”
Bill felt absorbed by the intensity with which she spoke, by her obvious dedication. Though they looked nothing alike, she reminded him in that instant of Nicole.
“What’s wrong, Bill? Why are you staring at me like that?”
“It’s nothing.” He waved his hand in the air between them.
Kylee contemplated him without speaking. Then she set down her mug and scooted closer to him. “I loved her too. I guess that’s really why I’m here. I feel guilty. I never even tried to contact her after those first letters I wrote. I was just too busy.”
“You were in another country,” Bill said dully.
&n
bsp; “I was in and out of Paris for the two years I knew her. That never stopped me from keeping in touch.” She paused, her eyes locking onto his so firmly that he couldn’t look away. “I was her friend. You were her husband. I should have been there for you. I should have been there to mourn her loss. I’m so sorry. Can you ever forgive me?”
The pain in Bill’s heart was aching, agonizing. He wanted nothing more than to be alone with his memories, but the tears in Kylee’s eyes begged for comfort. “It’s all right,” he forced himself to say. “I forgive you, though I don’t see the need. I should have married her long before I did. Then maybe none of it would have happened.”
“Oh, no! You can’t think that. Nicole was happy doing what she loved to do. Doctoring people, delivering babies—new miracles into the world. If she had been unhappy with your relationship, she would have asked you to stay home instead of going to America to continue your studies. She knew it was important to you, so she was content to wait. You must believe that. Wasn’t she always honest with you?”
Bill let his head drop to his hands. “I don’t know. I don’t know anything anymore. And I don’t want to talk about it.”
Kylee grabbed his hands, forcing him to look at her. “I know it hurts, but what about the good times? Remember those trips you used to take up to the mountains? I’ll never forget the day I went with you to the lake. Remember how you threw water at Nicole, and she tipped the boat over to get you back?”
Despite his suffering, Bill smiled at the memory. “You two made me drag the boat to shore all by myself. My arms felt like rubber for hours. It’s been a long time since I thought about that day.”
“Me, too. Do you remember the s’mores I roasted over the fire?”
Bill snorted. “They were certainly better than that stinky fish Nicole caught.”
“Yeah, you never did like fish. I don’t like fish either, remember? That was why I brought the bread. Nicole was determined to make fish lovers out of both of us, but I didn’t want to starve.” Kylee’s laugh penetrated the numb part of Bill’s heart.
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