A Kiss in the Dark

by Lisa Fox

  The Ring Card Girl’s eyes narrowed. “I’m Willow,” she said to Grace. “Did he invite you here are well?”

  Grace’s eyes got big when she looked at him. “You invited her?”

  “Grace, I can explain,” he began. How in the hell was he going to explain this? Had he invited the other woman? He must have. There was no other reason for her to be there.

  “Oh, you can explain it to her?” Willow asked. She looked from him, to Grace, back to him. “I see.” She gave him a hard look, bitter and angry. “He must have forgotten to tell you that he invited me as well.”

  Grace’s lips pursed, as though she had tasted something sour. “Did you seriously forget inviting her?”

  “Ah…” He shook his head, silently pleading with Grace. “I’m sorry.” Shit! What could he say? “It didn’t mean anything.”

  “It didn’t mean anything?” Willow flamed. “It doesn’t mean anything to you when you sleep with someone and then invite them somewhere?”

  Grace’s mouth fell open. “You slept with her and you forgot?” She shook her head, dumbfounded. “You slept with her, and it didn’t mean anything? Really, Ryan?”

  The woman smirked. “I’m guessing he slept with you too then, huh? Did he tell you how much he wanted you? Whisper it in your ear?”

  His lungs seized up, strangling him. This was not the way it was supposed to go. Her words made a mockery of everything he felt for Grace. It hadn’t been the same at all. He looked to his love, needing to explain himself, needing her to understand. “Grace—”

  She held up her hand, halting whatever he was going to say, her clear disappointment and hurt—God, help him there was so much hurt on her face—shattering his soul. She didn’t know it was different, didn’t realize that though his words may have been the same, the sentiment was absolutely not. Her misunderstanding of everything that happened between them destroyed him. He hated himself. “You are not the man I thought you were,” she said, the misery in her eyes drilling into the depths of his being. “You’re a pig.”

  A sledgehammer of pain smashed into his heart, nearly bringing him to his knees. “No, Grace, please—”

  Disgust twisted her beautiful features. “Ryan, there’s nothing you can say here that is going to make this better.” She looked to the other woman. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

  Willow shook her head. “Don’t apologize to me. You’re not the asshole.”

  Grace nodded to the woman, looked back to him. “Goodbye, Ryan.”

  “No, Grace!” He reached for her, but she evaded his grasp. He went after her, but people surrounded him, groping and hugging him, offering their smiles and congratulations. Grace slipped away through the crowd, toward the exit. Ryan watched her go, helpless to stop her.

  Monday morning came far too quickly. Ryan dragged himself to the office, not at all ready to take on the day.

  “Hey, Ryan,” Jodi said when he entered. She blinked as she fully took him in. “Wow, you look pretty awful.”

  “Thanks,” he said as sarcastically as possible. He had not had a very good weekend. No sleep. No food. All he could think about was Grace and how he was going to get her back.

  “Well, I hate to add to your already obviously bad day, but ‘Mrs. Grinch’ is looking for you.”

  Ryan groaned. He usually didn’t mind dealing with Gwendolyn Pierce, he was one of the few people that could, but after the weekend he’d had, he was not in the mood to be ripped a new one today. The only reason she could be looking for him was to yell at him for something. “Any chance I can avoid her?” he asked Jodi.

  The pretty receptionist shook her head, her multi-colored hair swinging from side to side. Today her blonde base was dipped in hues of pinks and purples. She gave him a sad face. “She seemed really tense. She’s called twice. I’ll think she’ll hunt you down if you don’t go see her.”

  He ground his teeth and gave into the despair. “I always did want a second asshole.”

  Jodi gave him a sympathetic look, but she was smiling. At least one woman smiled at him. He thought she might be the only one to do so today. “Sorry.”

  He did his best to smile back. “No worries. You’re just the harbinger of bad news, that’s all.”

  “I heard you won on Friday,” she said, merrily changing the subject. “Sorry I missed it. Congratulations!”

  “Thanks,” he said. “It was a good fight.” And a terrible night. He nodded toward the interior of the office. “I guess I should get going.”

  “See ya, Ryan.”

  “Yeah, later, Jodi.”

  He walked away from reception and headed toward his cubicle. He dropped his stuff on top of his desk and tried to decide what he wanted to do. He had two options. He could hide here and make Gwendolyn find him or he could go upstairs and face the music. If she called down and Jodi told her that he had been here for a while and not gone up to see her, the inevitable punishment would only be worse. He let out an aggrieved groan and headed for the staircase. Might as well get it done.

  He trudged up the stairs, inwardly grumbling all the way. There was no telling what he’d done to incur her wrath this time, but he was sure it was something minor and silly. Gwen did like to blow things out of proportion. When he got to the top floor, he hesitated, looking over at Kat and Dean’s alcove. Maybe he should poke his head in there and check in with his supervisor, see if there were any projects he could get in on. Or maybe talk to Kat about her latest comic, get a preview of the next episode. His body turned in that direction, but another finance person brushed by him, and he gave up his delusions of stalling. He had to just man up and face her.

  Gwen’s cubicle was the last in the long row of finance people. She was bent over her keyboard, a scowl on her pretty face. She was one of the few people who wore business attire on a daily basis and today’s suit was a charcoal grey matched with a rose blouse. Her golden-blonde hair was pulled back in a severe, no-nonsense ponytail, lying pin-straight along her spine. She wore almost no makeup, but she didn’t really need any, her clear skin and violet eyes were striking all on their own. Ryan wished she didn’t scowl all the time, but he never dared say anything out loud to her. He liked his balls right where they were, thank you very much.

  Her head came up as he approached her space, and her scowl deepened. He self-consciously touched his zipper and then straightened his spine. “Hi,” he said, standing over her.

  She looked up at him, took a second to check him out. “You don’t look nearly as bad as I thought you would.”

  He laughed. He couldn’t help himself. “Does that disappoint you?”

  A small smile flickered across her lips, there and gone before it could even fully register. And that little flash of a grin was the reason why Ryan liked her. It was a thing most people didn’t see because they never got past the frown. “Well, after that fight, I would have thought you’d show some bruising.”

  Oh, he was bruised all right. But not on the outside. “I’ll try to get hit harder next time.”

  “You do that.” She looked away from him, back to her computer. Her grimace reappeared instantly. She typed furiously on the keyboard, each stroke a pronounced tap. She glanced up at him again after a minute, clearly annoyed that he was still there. “What do you want, Ryan?”

  “What do I want?” He pointed his index finger at her. “You’re the one who wanted to see me.”

  She blinked once, pursed her lips. “Yes, I did.” She gestured to the single guest chair resting against the far wall of the cubicle. “Well, don’t just stand there hovering over me. Sit down.”

  “Right,” Ryan said, as he took the chair and pulled up it next to her. Take two. “So, what’s going on?”

  She reached into a plastic set of shelves on her desk and retrieved a form. “Do you know what this is?”

  He had no idea. He couldn’t even see what it was. “No.”

  She held the page up, practically shaking it under his nose. “This is a project time allotment
form.”

  He’d never heard of it. “Okay?”

  She looked at him like he was an idiot. “It’s what you’re supposed to fill out for every single client you have. I need to track how much time you’re spending on each aspect of a project and on which ones. The clients love it because it lets them see precisely what you’re doing for them. The company uses it to see which projects are taking more time than others and set the bills accordingly.”

  He shrugged. “Makes sense.”

  She seemed to be waiting for him to say something more and when he didn’t, she let out a long-suffering sigh. “Well, I don’t have yours for the Betancourt website, but I’m sure you’re still expecting to get paid.”

  “Oh,” he said. Grace. His heart fell right down to his shoes.

  “Yeah, oh,” she said and handed him the wrinkled sheet. “Would you fill it out for me, please? By the end of the day? You can even do it online if you have something against paper.”

  He was proud of the work he’d done on Grace’s site. He’d wanted to make her something stylized, something useful and functional that would help her out, but mostly he’d wanted to make her smile. He lived for her smile. He missed her so much. The ache in his heart was like a sucking, black abyss. He wasn’t ever going to be right if he couldn’t get her back. There had to be a way.

  “Hello? Ryan? Can you hear me?”

  Ryan forced himself back to the present and focused on Gwen. “I’m sorry, what was that?”

  Her eyes narrowed. “What’s wrong with you? No witty remark? No flirtatious comeback?”

  He didn’t know why he chose to tell her. Maybe he just needed to tell someone. Maybe he needed any help he could get. “I messed up and I lost—” Everything. “The girl I was seeing. Grace. She left me.”

  Gwen eased back in her chair, and for a change, there was concern on her face. “What happened?”

  “I forgot that I invited another woman to the fight as well.” He grimaced, saying it out loud. He knew how bad it was. “They kind of met there.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Come on, Ryan, what do you expect? This had to happen sooner or later. You’re a total manslut.”

  He frowned at her. “I am not a slut.”

  She eyed him up and down. “Name one woman in this office you haven’t thought about sleeping with.”

  He sputtered, but she had him. And they both knew it. “You make it sound so dirty.”

  “What you don’t get, Ryan, is that when a woman sleeps with a charming man she finds attractive, she can’t help but get expectations. Most people, when they sleep with someone, do it because they want something more. Or the relationship has progressed to the point where there is more.” She leaned toward him, holding his gaze. “Not everyone takes things as casually as you do.”

  Something more. That was what he wanted. It was all lost now though. He sat up in the chair, trying to recover some semblance of his pride. “Grace is different.”

  “Why?” she asked, placing her chin in her palm. She looked as though she was genuinely interested in his reply. “How is she different? Because you haven’t slept with her yet?”

  He looked away.

  “You have slept with her! You’re terrible.” She shook her head. “I’m surprised you still care then.”

  He was offended, but he couldn’t be. He remembered what the Ring Card Girl had said. He did sleep with people and not care. She was right. It was true. “I wanted it to be different. I wanted to be different.” He bowed his head, defeated. “I wanted to be a nice guy for her.”

  She snorted. “Please.”

  “I’m in love with her, Gwen.”

  She burst out laughing, but stopped when she saw the expression on his face. “Really?”

  “Yeah, really.” And it was tearing him apart. “Come on, help me out. How can I get her back?”

  The finance guru looked less than pleased to be having this conversation, but for some reason she decided to plow on. “Have you tried calling her?”

  “Of course. I’ve called her, texted her, emailed her. She won’t answer.”

  “I can’t really blame her,” she said under her breath. “You’re going to have to do something really big.” She tapped her chin, thinking it over. “Like you need to go to her place and hold a boombox up over your head outside her window.”

  He was not seeing the humor. “I think that’s been done.”

  “You could write her a song or try serenading her or dedicating a play to her.” She leaned forward, really getting into it now. “Ooo! Or you could get her some orange Tic Tacs.”

  He couldn’t believe she was actually referencing all these movies. He would’ve never thought she had it in her. “I would’ve never taken you for a chick flick kind of woman.”

  She grimaced. “Shut up, Ryan. It’s not like you don’t know what I’m talking about.”

  He held up his hands in surrender. He couldn’t lose her now. He needed her. She had to tell him what to do. He was at a total loss. “No, I hear you. I get it. A grand gesture. But this is real life, Gwen, and I need her back. What can I do?”

  She sighed. “Groveling. You need to grovel and beg.”

  He winced. But he was desperate. Anything to get her back. “You think it’ll work?”

  “You really are serious about her,” Gwen said quietly.

  He nodded. “I am.”

  “Then, I think it’s your only real option.”

  “Thanks, Gwen,” he said, sincerely grateful for her help.

  “Yeah, yeah,” she said with a wave of her hand. “Now get out of my cubicle. Some of us actually work around here.”

  Chapter Eight

  Seth stood at the edge of the cliff overlooking the torrid waters of the Atlantic Ocean. Wind whipped his dark hair around his handsome face. “I’ve never felt about anyone the way I feel about you,” he said, standing close to Mia.

  “Me either,” she replied and pushed him off the cliff.

  Grace sighed and held her finger down on the delete button. No matter how much she wanted to, she couldn’t bring herself to kill Seth. He didn’t deserve to suffer because his inspiration was a jackass. Seth was a nice guy, an honorable man, and her editor loved the character, loved the romantic set up, and was demanding more. Seth was in the Hamptons for the long haul.

  She bowed her head and rubbed her tired eyes. The light of the computer screen was still bright behind her eyelids, and she squeezed her eyes shut to try to dispel some of the glare. The break in concentration allowed some of the feelings she had been trying so hard to suppress all week leak in. Anger, irritation, and most of all, heart-wrenching hurt racked her soul. She wasn’t sure what galled her more, that he’d played her or that she’d fallen for it. When he’d told her he wanted her, she’d believed him. That was the worst part. It had meant so much to her and absolutely nothing to him. They were just words he whispered to whoever happened to be in his bed. Meaningless.

  But a part of her refused to believe that. A small part of her held onto the memory of the look in his eyes when he’d said it, the way he’d made her feel. They’d made a real connection that night, something deep and powerful, and no matter how much she wanted to deny it, it was true. That look had been a promise all its own, saying more than words ever could. It made her want to believe that they could have something special, something lasting. It made her want to call him, talk to him, see him again. It made her long for him in the darkest hours of the night.

  For the first time, in a long time, she wished she had someone to speak to, a friend to commiserate with. After she’d moved her father into Westview, she’d isolated herself so thoroughly, she didn’t have many options. Tennyson came to mind, and she glanced at the phone, but made no move to pick it up. Ten had gotten her the appointment with Sharpe Designs. Complaining to him about Ryan might just land her web designer in a boatload of trouble. She doubted company policy allowed employees to sleep with their clients. She was furious and heartbroken, but she d
idn’t want to get him fired. Besides, what would she even say? A man I slept with, who I had no business getting involved with anyway, used a tired old line with me in bed and I fell for it?

  “Yeah, that’s not happening,” she said out loud and looked back at the computer screen. The cursor blinked endlessly, relentlessly, demanding that the blank page be filled. She rested her hands on the keyboard. This was her life. This was everything good and wonderful and true. It was what she loved to do. It was the only thing she needed. She couldn’t believe she’d been willing to compromise it all for him.

  She read over the words she’d written before her little flight of fancy and tugged on her lower lip as she tried to formulate where the scene would go. Seth and Mia were at the inn, alone in her office. He was trying to convince her to trust him, to let him help her find the murderer who’d struck during the blackout. Mia was reluctant to work with him, suspicious of his intentions. Seth had helped her in the past, but he had also done some dubious things that made Mia wonder about him. He was the classic bad boy archetype—handsome, charming, but also reckless, and more than a little bit dangerous. Mia liked him, maybe even lusted after him at this point, but he hadn’t earned her trust yet. Still, she wasn’t throwing him out of her office or anything, so something needed to happen next.

  Grace let out a long breath and…

  Nothing.

  “Come on,” she groaned. “What happens next?”

  The hateful curser flashed on and on, and Grace clenched her jaw, willing the ideas to come. The work had been hard going lately, her emotions too tangled up to let her write with the freedom she had previously enjoyed, but she had no time for setbacks. She placed her hands on the keys and began to type.

  Seth crossed the room, standing close before her. The heat of his body was a welcome and terrible distraction.