One Night

by Lorhainne Eckhart

  “Well,” she said, “I know one way to learn about each other is to talk, but as I learned a long time ago, it’s not what you say, it’s what you do. The first time someone shows you who they are, believe them.”

  “Wow, very philosophical.” He smiled, sitting back and lifting his wine. “I like it. Tell me more about yourself. What do you do?”

  “Me? I’m an assistant front desk manager at the Hotel Monaco. I’m single—that’s why we’re here. I love to jog, play baseball, read. Grew up here in Portland. You know, I find talking about myself really difficult. I do find that getting to know someone is more about spending time with them.” She wondered for a moment whether he understood what she was saying. Talkers were quite often just that, all talk. The quiet ones, who were deliberate and just did…well, that said a lot about them.

  He appeared to consider what she was saying, then smiled again with another uncomfortable silence. Maybe she was boring him, being vague. Hell, she was boring herself trying to think of something exciting and novel to say.

  “So,” she said, “how come you moved all the way out to Oregon from Kentucky?” May as well get him talking about himself again.

  “School brought me here. I just stayed after. Married and divorced here,” he said.

  She tried to remember his profile. It had said single, not divorced. He had never once mentioned anywhere that he had been married. She wondered whether he had kids. Eek, at twenty-two she wasn’t looking to be a mom to anyone anytime soon. His profile had said no kids, hadn’t it? Now she was struggling to remember what exactly it had said.

  “Kids?” she asked, and he flashed her that million-dollar smile again.

  “Two. I share custody with my ex. They’re five and ten, cute as buttons. Here.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet, flipping to the photos. He was right, they were cute—and so was the woman standing behind them. Not cute, gorgeous. She had long red hair, a great figure.

  “Your ex in the photo?” Her voice sounded off, but that had to be the shock of realizing she’d been hoodwinked again, or so it seemed as she stared at the family photo that had them appearing so happy.

  “Yeah, that’s Jenna. Great mother to my kids, and I’ll always love her, but we were just never right for each other—like oil and water.”

  Unbelievable. How dense could this guy be, showing his date a photo of another woman with his kids—whom he’d neglected to mention? That was just so wrong.

  “So why’d you two break up, if you don’t mind me asking?” She had a feeling, watching how cavalier he was, that he was considering what to say.

  He shrugged sharply as he lifted his glass of wine, swirling the liquid. “Stuff happens, you know. I was busy with my career, and she wanted something different, something more than I could give her.” He was quiet again and looked down into his wine. Now who was being coy?

  “What, did you cheat?” she said. She was kidding, really, but he was being awfully closemouthed after offering so much information about himself moments before. It took her a second to realize she’d hit the nail on the head, because he wasn’t laughing.

  “We all do things we’re not proud of. It was a momentary lapse. It meant nothing.”

  Oh my good God, she thought. He wasn’t kidding. So he was one of those fuckers. Her dad had been a cheater, always sorry, and then he’d even cheat on the one he’d been cheating with. Kate had watched the merry-go-round of her parents’ marriage: her mom leaving, then going back. She’d spent most of her teenage years feeling as if she were a yo-yo, bouncing back and forth.

  “It was one time, Kate. I’m not one of those guys.” When he looked at her, it was the first time she felt as if he really meant what he was saying. He’d suddenly become serious. “I screwed up. My wife and I had been fighting. She’d given everything to the baby, completely ignoring me. I was being a selfish bastard because my needs weren’t being met, and we drifted apart. I was lonely, so I did something I wasn’t proud of. I signed up on an online dating site, looking for…I don’t know what I was looking for, really, but I asked for something casual, and that was where I met her. It was supposed to be no names, just a hookup. I never expected to hear from her again, and that would be the end of it. Felt like crap too, after.”

  She didn’t know what to say, so she swallowed more wine and waited, as he seemed to be thinking some pretty heavy thoughts. Gone was his killer smile. He chugged the rest of his wine and slid the glass to the edge of the table, flagging the waiter and gesturing to his glass for another. Of course she didn’t miss how tense he’d become.

  “I heard that many guys who sign up online are married even though they say they’re not,” she said.

  He gave her a look as he leaned back. “It’s true, many are. Men can be dirty dogs, you know. It’s not an excuse. What I did was deplorable, and I paid the price, but I’m not the same guy.”

  “Oh?” What could she say as she started ticking off all the strikes against him? He had lied about his age in a big way, lied about not having been married and the fact that he had kids… What else in his profile was false, she wondered?

  “She showed up at my office,” he said, dragging her from her thoughts as she tried to think about whether she could skip dessert with the excuse that she had to work early.

  “Who?” It took her a minute to realize he was talking about either his wife or the other woman.

  He flicked his gaze to her, and gone was the lightness she’d seen there moments ago. No, she could see the weight of something he was carrying as he took his hand and wiped it across his chin. “The woman from online. Two days later, she showed up, sitting in a chair at my dental office when I walked in, getting readied by one of my hygienists. I thought, what are the odds she was suddenly a new patient? That was a line I never crossed, bringing my personal bullshit into the office. But I let it go and kept it light, worried that my hygienist would pick up on what I’d done.

  “I gave her the quickest checkup I could and got her the hell out of there, and I made sure my receptionist understood that she was to be referred to another dentist if she called back, with strict instructions that we wouldn’t be able to accommodate her. Of course they had to be wondering what the hell was going on, but at least they didn’t ask. Then she somehow got my cell number, the one I don’t give out to anyone but friends and my staff at work. One night she was waiting by my car as I closed up for the night.”

  “Holy shit, that sounds very stalkerish,” Kate said. She couldn’t believe a woman would stoop to that, and for a second she felt sorry for Ryder.

  He rubbed his hand over the back of his neck. “Yeah, well, it was starting to really piss me off, and I told her to back off or I was going to call the cops.”

  “Did you?”

  He shook his head. “Not right away. I should have, but I was too worried about having something official out there for my wife to find out.”

  So he really had cheated on his wife and then stayed with her as if he’d done nothing wrong. Bastard! “That’s so awful. I can’t believe you had to threaten her with the cops. I’ve heard of this happening, but…”

  “She didn’t go away,” he said.

  She wondered if her jaw could drop any lower.

  “Then one day I came home, and she was holding my six-month-old baby daughter. She was in my house. My wife walked into the living room with tea as if they were the best of friends, introducing her to me. I was watching this crazy woman—Cindy was her name—and I realized then, I’m so totally screwed. This woman wasn’t going away. I pulled her aside when my wife was down the hall changing the baby, and I asked her what the hell she was doing in my house, with my wife. She touched me and said if I hadn’t ignored her calls, she wouldn’t have approached my wife at all. She had the gall to say they met in the park. And you know what really scared me?”

  Ryder glanced up at the waiter, who set another glass of red in front of him. He smiled politely, took another swallow of wine, and
then flicked his gaze, all serious now, back to Kate. “She talked about my oldest daughter, and she knew things about her: where she went to school, what she’d worn the other day, things I hadn’t even realized about my own kid. It was enough that I knew she’d been watching my kid, my family, my house. I knew then that I couldn’t ignore her, or this, anymore. So I called the cops, told my wife, and my marriage was over. That same night, I was packing my bags and moving out. The cops went and talked with her one on one and told her to go away and stop bugging me. Then I got a restraining order. She was good for a while. She stayed away.”

  Gone was the happy, charming Ryder. This Ryder was humbled, not the cocky bullshitter who had been sitting there moments before. Kate really did feel kind of sorry for the guy. Although she didn’t like cheaters, what Cindy had done was almost psychotic and way over the top. Talk about learning your lesson! “You mean she kept coming around, broke the restraining order?”

  “Not in a way that the police could arrest her, but yeah. Just far enough away.”

  “Well, what did this woman want?”

  “Me,” he said, and it wasn’t arrogant or cocky. It was sad and pathetic.

  She didn’t know what made her look—the flash of lights she caught from the corner of her eye or the sedan squealing and speeding up onto the sidewalk through the front window, coming right toward them. In that moment, when time froze, she saw every detail: the car, the GM logo on the front, the person behind the wheel, the shattered glass, the dishes on the table, the screams, the shouts…

  However it happened, the next thing she knew, she was on the ground. In a moment of quiet, she looked up at the carnage from the floor.

  ***

  Chapter 3

  He was considering having a second Guinness. He wasn’t in the mood for talking tonight, and he said a quick goodnight to Febriski, the desk sergeant, as he leaned against the light cedar block of the bar.

  “Another, Walker?”

  He liked Jean, the short blonde who was part owner of this trendy club. The food was good, the drinks were cold, and it was close to the precinct. “Yeah, sure, why not?”

  She pulled the bottle from the fridge, cracked the cap, and set it on the counter. She went to slide him a clean glass, but he waved her off.

  “Business looks good,” he said, taking in the crowd, all suits. This location attracted a certain clientele.

  She gave him a sly smile. “Business has been phenomenal. Packed every night. Reservations are currently a three-week waitlist, and we had the local paper here doing a write up in the food section. All that great publicity helps.” She tapped the counter and gestured to one of the wait staff, who took over behind the bar.

  “Your brother’s the chef, right?” Walker said. He still couldn’t believe the brother-sister team had paired up and opened this successful restaurant. 525 was the talk of the town.

  “Vince is the genius behind all those dishes on the menu. He always could cook back when we were kids. Took over from Mom, who couldn’t cook if her life depended on it. I think then it was more about survival.”

  He swallowed the dark brew. “How old is he again?”

  “Twenty-three.”

  “You’re twins, right?” he asked. Jean was a pistol, a self-starter, and he wanted to get to know her better. If she was anything in bed like she was running this establishment, hell, she’d be a firecracker.

  “You know we are, old man.”

  “Ouch.” He touched his heart with the flat of his palm. “I have, what, five years on you?”

  “Are you hitting on me again?” she said. For such a young thing, she was far from shy. That could turn an otherwise boring night into a good time he was sure he’d remember fondly. He wondered whether she was one of those take-charge types, a wildfire who’d have him begging, sweating, and doing his damnedest to keep up. God, he hoped so.

  “And if I am, are you going to turn me down again, or are you going to finally give in to what we both know you really want?”

  She jabbed her finger into his arm. His dress shirt was rolled up to his sleeves, his .45 clipped to his belt. “What if I told you I was seeing someone?” she said.

  “Are you?” he said. Had she really been seeing someone else all these times he’d been hitting on her, almost every night for the past month? “Can’t be that serious, as I know you’re considering letting me have my way with you, and I’m breaking you down. I can see it every day. I’m making headway, and one night you’re going to walk out of here with me, because you and I both know it’ll be a night you’ll never forget.”

  Her mischievous smile was bright and so catlike. He’d give anything to know what was going on in her mind. Then she tilted her head, really studying him. “So what exactly are you looking for, Walker? Because I’m not too interested in dating a cop.”

  “Who said anything about dating?” He rested his arms on the bar, and she licked her lower lip. The sizzle between them in that moment had him hardening. He wanted to taste her, to bite her lip, to put his mouth on the soft pink spot that still glistened from where she’d licked it. Then he pictured her mouth on him, those lips around him.

  “No.” She slapped the counter and pushed away. “But thanks for the offer.”

  “Tease,” he said as he reached for his beer and drank down the last of it, for a moment feeling absolutely miserable.

  She laughed, wagging her finger at him before walking away. “Same time tomorrow night,” she called.

  He set his empty on the counter and tossed down some bills. “Not tomorrow, I have the night shift. Take care, Jean. Let me know if anyone hassles you.”

  She jutted her chin toward him, and her expression softened. “Stay safe out there, Walker.”

  Good God, he really did want to get to know her better. She interested the hell out of him. He liked her and the flirtatious banter they’d had going on now for months. She was smart, sexy, had a great sense of humor, and she could hold her own with her crowd of diners. Whoever the lucky dog was who’d finally snag her, well, Walker was envious.

  He shrugged on his navy sports coat and stopped in the crowded waiting area, glancing into the dining room. He didn’t know why he noticed her, the babe in those killer heels and red dress sitting with the dude with the slick hair and phony smile. What was it with women, always going for the flash, charm, and good looks? Then he heard something that had him stepping further inside. Through the window, he could see a car speeding up onto the sidewalk between two parked cars, heading right for the chick in the red dress. Everything went into slow motion, and she looked up just as the car crashed through the front glass of Portland’s hottest restaurant.

  ***

  Chapter 4

  “What the fuck?” he cried. Even before it registered in his overtired brain, he was moving. The fact was that some idiot had just crashed up his friend’s restaurant—and who knew how many people had been injured? The good-looking broad in the red dress, he feared, was most likely dead. He stepped over broken glass and slipped on something gooey on the floor. In an instant, he assessed the dust and debris. A man on the floor was crawling, a cut on his head, helping up a woman who had lettuce in her hair.

  “Are you hurt?” Walker demanded as he touched the man, who looked shocked. Hell, everyone had to be. They had all been out for a nice dinner and then wham—some idiot had driven a car through the front of the restaurant. He guessed no one would be paying their tabs that night.

  “I’m okay, just—what the fuck happened…?” the woman screeched, reaching for her purse.

  One of the waiters appeared, and then someone else, to help the woman. More waiters and staff raced out from the back, helping people up. Those who could stand began heading around the debris to the door.

  “Oh my God, my restaurant!” Jean cried out behind him. He could only imagine her horror.

  “Get everyone outside,” he shouted. He could hear the sirens in the distance, coming closer. He stepped around the car, hoping t
o hell no one was under it. He helped patrons as they staggered from the once fine restaurant, which now resembled a war zone. But he still didn’t see the blonde.

  A tabletop shuddered in the corner, and Walker lifted it off a man: oh, yeah, the slick, smiling dude who’d been sitting with the girl in the red dress. “Are you hurt?” Walker asked.

  The man was covered in dust and debris as he brushed off his coat and coughed, then struggled to stand. “Holy crap, what the hell?” He was looking around.

  Walker heard a cough, then saw the blonde crawling again on her knees from the corner and around an overturned table.

  “Kate, are you okay?” the slick dude asked—but Walker got to her first.

  She was a mess. Her knee was cut, her dress torn at the shoulder, and she was wearing one shoe.

  “Are you all right?” He touched her arm and helped her up, taking in the shock on her face the moment she saw him. Why hadn’t he noticed before how lovely her eyes were, a smoky brown, big and bold? She held on to his arm as if needing support. He could feel how shaky she was.

  “What happened? I saw the car…” She stopped and pointed. The way her eyes widened had Walker turning as he heard the squeal of the car door. There was shouting, and others crowded around, helping a woman out of the vehicle. She was dark haired, a little dazed. Walker could feel the woman Slick had called Kate as she dug her fingers into his arm.

  “Oh, my dress,” she cried. She grabbed the drooping strap that had slipped to show black lace and the rounded curve of her breast. And a nice breast it was, too—especially in the fancy bra responsible for all that generous cleavage.

  He was about to slip off his jacket and offer it when he realized she was with Slick. He should have been shedding his coat and handing it over, but instead he was looking the other way. Walker glanced over to the dude, who was staring openmouthed at the woman getting out of the car.

  “Cindy?” he said.