Derek sat on the couch, elbows on his knees, holding his pounding head in his hands. He sat up straight when Gram walked in carrying a tray with a bottle of whiskey and two shot glasses. She was a pisser. He smiled despite himself. Silently, Gram filled both glasses, passed one to him, and tossed hers back. Derek followed suit, and the alcohol left a burning trail from throat to belly. Gram must have colorful stories to tell, because she’d downed the drink like summer sweet tea.
“Start talking,” she said and poured herself another shot. She settled back into her chair and looked at him with accusing eyes.
“She came to my doorstep two weeks ago as a temp assistant. I didn’t request one, and I definitely didn’t want one,” he began. Derek told Gram everything from the plot to deceive his family, to when he found her riffling through his mother’s drawers, to when he asked her to leave and never come back.
“You deserve a swift kick,” Gram said wryly. “But Izzy isn’t without fault. She should’ve respected your privacy and your request. The thing is, Izzy never wants anyone to hurt, especially those she cares about.”
“No one knows that better than me,” Derek said and scrubbed his hands over his face. They sat in silence for a few moments.
“Well, what are you going to do about it?” Gram said.
Derek met her eyes. “I want to find her, to talk to her. Apologize. Grovel. Will you tell me where she is so we can talk it through?”
“You’ve only known her for two weeks. Maybe you should get to know her better first.” One by one, Gram pulled out photo albums and scrapbooks. Derek flipped through them carefully, and a gangly little girl with braces and thick bangs stared back at him. Her delighted, innocent smile in each photo sent a pain through Derek’s heart.
“This was a wish book Izzy made when she was little.” Gram slid a glittery purple book decorated with stickers across the coffee table. “It pains me that I couldn’t give her those simple things.”
The first page was a picture of her mother, surrounded by magazine clippings of palm trees and sand.
“I’m a lot of things; naive isn’t one of them. My daughter’s a selfish woman. No matter how I begged, she wouldn’t take Izzy to see her home in Florida. I could barely get her to visit. How a little angel was born from her, I’ll never know.”
The next page was pictures of puppies circled in hearts. One breed was more prominent than the others, and he took note.
“What’s that one? The one with the bulging eyes that looks like it’s wearing a tux?” Derek asked.
“That’s a Boston. One day, I went alone to a terrier rescue to see how bad my allergies would flare. In moments, I couldn’t breathe. I was so disappointed.” Gram shook her head and for a moment looked utterly defeated.
“You’re her favorite person. The best thing about her childhood. You’ve never been a disappointment to her,” Derek reassured her, and Gram looked up at him, eyes glazed with tears. She blinked them back quickly, and then they were gone. “Please let me know where she is.”
Gram reluctantly wrote down Izzy’s address. “You have a lot of work to do.” Derek thanked her and started toward the door.
“I’m sure I don’t have to say this out loud,” Gram called from behind him. “But if you don’t fix this, I’ll skin you alive.” Derek turned, and Gram stood with her arms crossed and hip cocked.
“I don’t doubt it,” he said and heard her laughter all the way to the elevator.
Once in his car, Derek noticed an email from his agent asking for a draft of his next project before the New Year. He responded quickly that he couldn’t make the deadline—he had personal matters he needed to attend to first. Not only had he screwed up with Izzy, but he’d hurt his family in the process. For the first time, he was putting his family and his heart in first place. Izzy had helped him dream again, and those hopes and wishes centered around her. For one night, he’d been certain beyond doubt that they could make a relationship work. Now his fate hinged on Izzy’s willingness to forgive.
Chapter Fifteen
The snow had turned to rain. It poured relentlessly out of the gray sky and pooled in deep puddles in every dip in the road. Head down against the wind that tugged and bent her umbrella, Izzy walked briskly toward the library. It was her first day back to work after she’d left Derek’s house. She’d had to unearth an ancient blouse and a pair of pants, as she’d left all her belongings at the castle. Izzy blinked her eyes rapidly. Nearly a week later, and she still couldn’t stop the flow of tears or the crushing pain in her chest that stripped her of breath. She wouldn’t wish this feeling on her worst enemy.
She’d known he’d be upset if he found her in his mother’s study, but she hadn’t expected him to cast her out of his life forever. If only she had a crystal ball to see whether he’d looked at the notes his mother had written, then maybe it would take some of the weight off her chest. Then he would realize that his mother didn’t leave because of him, and perhaps he’d have a sense of peace.
She gripped the door handle to the library and fought to open it against a hard gust of wind. In the entryway, Izzy closed her umbrella and shook off her coat. Droplets sprayed against the muted gray rug.
The familiar smells of ancient carpet, lemon furniture polish, and thousands of books waiting to be read did little to comfort her today. She couldn’t even find peace in her favorite place.
Her coworker Laurel peered over the round reading glasses she kept fastened around her neck with a beaded chain when she wasn’t wearing them. Her long gray hair was braided down her back, and she wore a familiar forest-green sweater.
“I’m so glad you’re back. We have a week’s worth of books piled up from story time with Santa and school vacation. Today calls for take-out lunch, and it’s not even nine.” Laurel chose another book from the pile, checked the call number on the spine, and walked it toward a nearby shelf.
“It’s good to be back,” Izzy said halfheartedly. There were no fairy tales for her, no happily-ever-afters, and that was okay. She had a roof over her head, a job that satisfied her, and a grandmother who loved her. Izzy had called to apologize for missing Christmas Day lunch with Gram. Part of her wanted to tell her what happened, the other part was too hurt and embarrassed. Gram didn’t pry, which was kind of unusual for her. Izzy picked a book from the return box as Laurel rounded the corner.
“I almost forgot. A package was delivered to you by courier this morning. Were you expecting something?” Laurel scurried into the back office and returned with the flat cardboard box.
“Must be something from my gram,” Izzy said. The package was heavier than it looked. The return address in the top left corner made her heart stop. Suddenly, the box was a dense weight, like a pile of bricks in her hands. She was torn between desperately tearing it open then and there, and chucking it in the garbage receptacle. It was bad enough that the agreed upon five grand had shown up in her checking account this morning. It didn’t feel right after all that had happened, and she wouldn’t spend a red cent of it.
She supposed it was a final dismissal and an admission that she was just a hired employee after all. Still, she’d have to gather her courage eventually and pick up her things. Izzy was going to work up the nerve to call Silver Acres that afternoon, to see if they offered a payment plan. No matter how defeated she was, she just couldn’t give up on Gram’s happiness. Maybe there was still a way she could pull herself out of debt and get back on track. She put the box aside and tried not to think of it for the rest of the day. It was an impossible task, one that made her misplace a book more than once.
“You’re not feeling well, are you?” Laurel asked over lunch. All Izzy could stomach was a cup of soup.
“I might be coming down with something.” Izzy had been coworkers and friends with the older woman for as long as she could remember, but she couldn’t get into what had happened when the wound was still so fresh.
A crease formed between Laurel’s brows. “You should head out early
. We’re almost finished, anyway, and we’ve had only four visitors today. Amy comes in at three. Take the rest of the day.”
Izzy had only taken a handful of sick days in her life, and normally she’d brush it off and get back to work, but today she couldn’t. “Thanks, Laurel. If you don’t mind, I think I will.” She tossed the half-empty soup cup in the trash.
“Don’t forget your package,” Laurel called.
Izzy wouldn’t have been able to forget it even if an avalanche rolled through the library. It could be filled with papers from Derek’s lawyer for all she knew, but it was her last and only connection to him. Izzy dressed in her rain gear, tucked the cardboard inside her jacket, and made the muddy trek back to her apartment.
Once inside, she slipped into cozy sweats, needing all the added comfort she could get, and brewed a pot of tea. Izzy started with her first responsibility and called Silver Acres, ready to apologize profusely for the mix-up and ask for an extension on the rent. The phone rang twice before the accounting department picked up.
“This is Lynn in accounting. How may I help you?” The snap of a stapler and the rhythmic whoosh of a copier sounded in the background.
Heat rushed to Izzy’s cheeks as she explained to the woman on the other line that her check had bounced.
“Well, it looks like you’ve more than made up for it. We appreciate the advance payments,” Lynn replied.
“Advance?” Izzy sputtered. She absently pulled out one of the kitchen chairs and sank onto it.
“It looks like someone dropped a check off this morning to apply to Mrs. Simon’s rent for the next six months, so you’re all set,” the accountant said. Izzy could hear the clicking of computer keys on the other end.
“Could you tell me whose check?” Izzy was utterly confused. Surely Gram hadn’t been able to pay that type of lump sum, and Mr. Johnson was well-off, but certainly not wealthy. The teapot hissed from the kitchen, and Izzy nearly dropped the phone. The only person she knew who could afford something like that was Derek, but why would he?
“I’m sorry. I don’t have that information in front of me. If you call back tomorrow, I should be able to find it for you. Is there anything else I can help you with?” Lynn said.
“No. Thank you.” Izzy clicked off the line and sat there for a few moments. Did Derek regret his actions and think he could make amends through money? It wouldn’t be right to accept that kind of handout from anyone—no matter how much they had.
She took a mug from the cabinet and tipped the kettle. The bergamot-and-lemon-scented steam warmed her face as she took the first sip. Without wasting any time, she sank onto the living room couch, set down the mug, and tore open the package. Despite her deep breathing, her heart pumped hard and thrummed against her rib cage.
Izzy pulled out a bound picture book, not professionally done, but carefully made. On the front cover was a sketch of a worm and a porcupine. And at that moment, she knew. Izzy flipped open to the first page, eyes brimming and pulse quickening with each page after. Inside was a beautifully illustrated children’s tale of a crusty porcupine who stayed holed up in his cave until he befriended a smart bookworm who showed him how bright and wonderful the world outside really was. By the end, Izzy needed a tissue to sop up her tears. What did it mean that he’d sent it? A peace offering? A form of forgiveness? He’d taken the time to craft a story for her, and he’d paid Gram’s rent, she was sure of it now.
There was a knock on the door, and she lifted her eyes from the book. It couldn’t be him, could it? She stood quickly and groaned when she glanced in the hall mirror at her messy hair piled in a nest on top of her head, her puffy eyes, and drab sweats. Every bit of her appearance said she’d given up. Izzy pursed her lips, blew out a breath, and pulled open the door.
Derek stood in the hallway, dripping wet. Emotions pummeled her. She should want to slam the door, not jump into his arms. She was too trusting, too easy to forgive the people that hurt her. She crossed her arms against her chest to create some distance.
“Why are you here?” Izzy said. Her voice was quiet, but it didn’t waver.
“Did you get the package?” Derek asked. Why did he have to look like he’d stepped off the pages of a magazine when she looked like a drowned rat coming in from the storm?
“You can’t answer a question with a question.”
“Okay,” he said slowly. “I know I don’t deserve a warm welcome. I came to apologize.”
She owed him an apology, too, but Izzy needed to know if he was here for more than just that. The wishful girl in her who still believed in fairy tales longed for him to sweep her off her feet, but she was so scared of being hurt more than she already was. “Apology accepted,” she said and began to shut the door.
Derek planted his forearm against it, and his windblown hair fell forward. He smelled wild, like the storm, and devastatingly delicious. “Don’t shut me out. Please.”
She shook her head, more to tell herself no than him. “Derek, you said this was a mistake and told me to leave your home.” Repeating the words was like pouring alcohol on an open wound.
“The way I acted…it was inexcusable. I said hurtful things, and I’d do anything to take them back. You must know they came from a place of hurt and fear. I’ve always lived a lonely life—a tradeoff for self-preservation. Then our relationship progressed so quickly.” Derek stepped closer to the threshold. Drops of rain clung to the shoulders and chest of his black jacket, and his hair was slick and shiny from the precipitation pounding against the building’s windows and pavement.
She longed to believe him, but if he pushed her away out of anger once, who was to say he wouldn’t push her away again? She didn’t want to get looped up in a relationship that was like a subway car, starting and stopping every few days, weeks, or months.
“Maybe we just got caught up in the excitement of the holidays, the close quarters…” Izzy’s voice trailed off. For her, that was a lie. She would’ve been entranced by him in any century, any place, or any time of year.
A gruff chuckle came from Derek’s lips. “Excitement? Before you arrived, I hated the holidays. Despised them. It’s been my least favorite time of year for as long as I remember.” He paused and leveled his gaze with hers. “And then you arrived and breathed new life into everything you touched. Into me.” Derek started to reach for her, then he paused, and lowered his hand.
Izzy took a shallow breath. It was as if all the air had been sucked out of the hallway. “When I applied for a temp job, I had no idea what I was walking into. You were supposed to be wrinkly, hairy, old. I had no intention of being attracted to you, let alone fall for you.” Izzy’s shoulders slumped. It had been a long week of pain and tears.
His dark eyebrows rose up. “What? You said you fell for me.” His lips curved slightly, and when he moved closer to step on the threshold, Izzy took a step back.
“The last few days have given me time to think,” she started to say. What a coward she was. “It’s silly to start a relationship with you or with anyone. I have my work, and two people to support.”
Derek’s mouth deepened into a frown. “You told me I was waiting for an opportunity to push you away. You were right. But this whole time, you’ve been expecting me to shut you out because you don’t feel worthy of being loved.” He hit a nerve, only because it was so true.
Derek stepped closer to Izzy, and he lifted her chin so her gaze would meet his. “I’m here to tell you that you are. I know you’ve been hurt. I hate that I’m one of the people who has hurt you, but I’ve never met someone so worthy of being loved as you.” The world seemed to slow. “On Christmas Eve, when I saw you enter the room, it hit me like a freight train. It had been building from the time you tended my frostbitten hands to when you whacked the wolf off my leg like some crazed beast. I just didn’t realize it. Then we spent the night together, and I know now that nothing will ever feel right without you.” His low, intimate voice sent shivers spiraling over her nerve endings.
“How are you so sure? Maybe it’s just the crazy circumstances. How we were thrown together.” Izzy knew she was stalling him, playing the devil’s advocate, but she needed time to process everything he’d just said to her. A glimmer of faith lifted her heart just a bit.
“We have more to talk about. Things that shouldn’t be said in a doorway. Come back with me and have dinner. Atticus has been pouting since you left, and all your things are still at my place.” He was right. The hallway of her apartment wasn’t the best place to have this conversation.
When Izzy nodded, her lip wobbled a bit. “Just give me a minute, okay?” She rushed to pull on jeans and a sweater, took her keys off the kitchen counter, and met Derek outside. They drove back to his estate in silence. Izzy had to tuck her fingers under her legs to keep from biting her nails. Had she ever been so nervous? She kept her eyes trained on the windshield wipers as they batted away the rain. As the car moved deeper into the forest, the thick drops that spattered against the car turned to snow. Once darkness fell, the flakes were only visible in the glow of the car’s headlights.
Derek turned the wheel to the left and started down the driveway. The estate came into view. The lights he’d put up for her still twinkled on the trees and shrubs. Derek parked the car, and they walked through the fresh sheet of snow to the front door, stepped inside, and shrugged off their coats.
“Where’s Atticus? He’s usually waiting by the door,” Izzy said.
“He must be tired out. Let’s go into the library.” Derek let her walk ahead of him. Once inside the room filled with glorious books, Izzy chose an armchair and sat. It would be easier to talk if they weren’t sitting side by side. Derek started a fire in the hearth before sitting across from her. The earthy scent of crackling wood quickly filled the space.
The Bookworm and the Beast Page 14