Ask Me

by Laura Strickland

  They ate in near silence, taking careful looks at one another. When she went off to get the dessert—a syllabub—he ducked back into the bedroom for the bag of candy hearts.

  She froze when she saw it on the table. “What’s that for?”

  “I want to ask you something, and I know they all say ‘Ask Me.’ ”

  “How do you know that?”

  “Because I dumped them all out at my place and checked. Then I bought a package and replaced the ones that didn’t say that.”

  She smiled. “I should feel manipulated, but I don’t.”

  Deliberately, he pulled a heart from the bag and placed it on her dessert plate.

  “Ask Me,” she read obediently.

  “Okay, I will.” He drew a breath, suddenly certain his next words would be some of the most important he ever spoke.

  “Gerri Webb, will you see me again? Will you promise to give this thing between us a fair chance, agree to suspend disbelief the way we do when we read, and accept the possibility a relationship can work?”

  She went very still, only her eyes moving to examine his face. “That’s a lot to ask.”

  “I know.” He upended the bag on the table cloth; candy hearts tumbled everywhere. “That’s why I’m willing to spend all my ‘asks.’ That’s how important I think we are.”

  “Leo—”

  “I’m also willing to listen to all your objections. Just so long as you don’t say ‘no.’ ”

  She laughed in surprise. “My objections?” She rested her chin on one hand, still studying him. “You want to hear my objections? I’d start with the fact that I make disastrous choices in love. And I’m not afraid to use that word because ‘love’ is what I would ultimately require. I know that much about myself. I also know nothing is better than the wrong thing. I’d determined to thrive on my own, concentrate on my career, and be fulfilled in it, which was why I was in the library on Valentine’s Day.”

  “Where you met me.”

  “Where I met you.” She made a helpless gesture with one graceful hand. “I’m not saying we don’t get along in the bedroom. No one could say that. It’s been—well, amazing. And yes, we’ve proved we can fulfill one another’s fantasies. But that’s not real life.”

  “True,” Leo said. “Who’s to say, though, it couldn’t translate?” He captured her hand. “Give me the chance, Gerri.”

  “Tempting. And the chemistry between us makes it even more so. But I’m afraid that with you, Leo Rankin, the price would be far too high. I suspect, this time, it could involve my heart.”

  “Isn’t that all the more reason to try?”

  The sapphire on her breast gleamed as she sucked in a breath. “All the more reason to protect myself. I’ve thought about it, Leo—of course I have! I think that’s why I called and asked you here. I hoped to prove to myself we didn’t fit, so I could put you out of my mind and be done with you. The only thing last night proved is how dangerous you are to me.”

  “Life is dangerous,” he told her earnestly. “What would the stories we read be worth if the characters didn’t take wild chances? You want to live your life safe? I always thought I did. Meeting you has taught me differently. I’ll make whatever changes and take whatever chances I have to, Gerri Webb, in order to have you in my life.”

  She shook her head. “You say that now, when this is all new and vital. But I’ve seen what relationships can become.”

  “Trust me,” he implored. “You were able to trust me when I snapped those cuffs on your wrists. Why not going forward?”

  Disconcertingly, her eyes filled with tears. “That was fantasy. I don’t want you to make changes in order to fit into my life, Leo. It would never work. Anyway, you’re perfect the way you are. I think—I think we should chalk this up as a fabulous interval and call it quits.”

  Protest clawed up from Leo’s chest and desperation nearly choked him. “You’re wrong.”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “Can you really turn your back on what we have?”

  “Leo, life isn’t lived between the sheets, and we don’t exist between the pages of some adventure novel. You asked me; I’ve given you my answer.”

  He got to his feet, anger and dismay filling him. A reasoned man, he rarely raised his voice and refused to do so now. He held Gerri’s gaze and said, “Try to protect yourself as you will—you’ll regret this. Because, Gerri Webb, you can’t deny love.”

  Chapter Nine

  No flowers arrived in the ensuing days, no fantastical gifts of any kind. Leo Rankin never called Gerri’s number, never attempted to seek her out. She’d asked to break things off, and he’d accommodated her request to the letter.

  That didn’t keep Gerri from looking at the door every time the bell jangled. Nor did it keep her heart from leaping whenever her phone rang. She relentlessly reexamined the wisdom of what she’d done. The hurt would grow less, she reasoned. Anyway, hurting a little now had to be better than hurting a lot later.

  Trouble was she didn’t just hurt a little. Life became a desert of tasks to be accomplished during joyless hours. Leo Rankin haunted her—the scent of him in her bed that made her launder her sheets in a frenzy. The bag of candy hearts, each of which she’d picked up carefully off the tablecloth and saved. The memory of a smile in chocolate-brown eyes.

  Her colleagues at the parlor eyed her uneasily but asked no questions. A few of them had been around long enough to watch her weather past disastrous relationships.

  She immersed herself in her work, trying to forget everything else, but couldn’t lose the heartache.

  Finally, during a lull in customers when just the two of them occupied the shop, Max approached her, his handsome face creased with concern.

  “Hey, Gerri, girl,” he began. “What ever happened to the guy who sent the flowers? He seemed pretty interested there for a while.”

  Gerri quickly dropped her gaze. “He was interested. Maybe a bit too interested. I thought it better to break things off.”

  “Really?” Max raised his eyebrows and tipped his head. “Well, how’s that working for you? I haven’t seen you this miserable since your last break-up. Why don’t you call him?”

  Gerri gave Max a quick look and said, “I don’t want to call him.”

  “Liar. I know better than to butt into your business, and I’m not about to tell you how to lead your love life—”

  “It’s not love,” Gerri interrupted, stating what she’d already repeated a dozen times. It couldn’t be. She barely knew Leo Rankin and, anyway, he was utterly wrong for her.

  Despite all the signs. And despite what he’d said the night he walked out her door: You can’t deny love.

  She’d pondered those words over and over, wondering just what he meant by them. Had he been implying he loved her? But that couldn’t be. Love came over time, rooted deep, and grew slowly. What they shared went by the name of attraction.

  “Well”—Max studied her with fond eyes—“you could have fooled me. I thought things were hot and heavy between you and—?” He paused suggestively, asking for a name.

  “Leo.”

  “He showed signs of being a real suitor, someone willing to give you the kind of attention you deserve. Why not give it a shot?”

  “We just didn’t fit.” Except when he slid into her, or when their imaginations meshed, and when they laughed together.

  Max looked dubious. “Gerri, honey, I’ve seen the losers you chose in the past—bad boys all with attitude up the wazoo. How’d they fit?”

  “Not so good, which is why I’ve decided I’m better off alone. My life’s full enough without a man.”

  “Sure. You’ve got your art and friends who care about you. But there can be lonely times. Look at me.”

  Gerri lifted her gaze to study him. He’d been in a good relationship for the last five years and had a baby on the way. “You and Roberta are perfect for each other.”

  “I didn’t think so at first. Told myself I didn’t w
ant to be tied down with one woman. Wanted no part of some tame family life. But when it came down to it, I knew life was better with her than without her, whatever the cost. I’d live in a dungeon with that woman rather than a palace with anyone else.”

  Foolish tears sprang to Gerri’s eyes. She hadn’t shed any since sending Leo away. Now she wanted to sob in Max’s arms.

  Instead she told him, “That’s your path, Max, not mine. I guess I’ve decided I’d rather shut myself in that dungeon, away from the sunlight, than let myself be hurt again.”

  “Honey, life’s all about getting hurt. There’s no safe place.”

  “That’s what Leo said. But you don’t understand, Max. With Leo, it feels like I’m standing on a precipice. I know if I fall this time, it could finish me.”

  Max leaned closer and whispered, “Or you two could fly. Why not jump and see?”

  ****

  Yet another stuffy reception. Leo glared at the cup of tea in his hand and wondered what had happened to his life. The last time he’d attended one of these things, he’d been with Gerri Webb. She still accompanied him, but only in thought—haunting and relentless.

  This reception, held to welcome a new department member, differed little from others in the past. Leo sipped his tea while despair rose and threatened to choke him, a familiar enough sensation lately.

  Last night he’d barely resisted driving by the library on Waterbury and then on to Gerri’s house. However desperate he might be, he wouldn’t stoop to stalking.

  Gerri had made her wishes clear. He could only abide by them.

  “So what do you think of her?”

  Leo started and looked into the face of his colleague, Tom Packard. Did Tom mean Gerri, whom Leo thought breathtaking, incomparable—impossible to match? “Eh?”

  “Our new colleague,” Tom said. “Pretty, isn’t she?”

  “Oh, sure.”

  Leo glanced at the young woman in question. She wore her fair hair in a sophisticated twist and her conservative suit clothed a willowy figure. When she caught his eye she cast him a smile.

  “She’s barely stopped looking at you,” Tom observed. “That’s an invitation if ever I saw one.”

  Leo scrutinized her more closely. She epitomized the sort of woman he usually dated, right down to her glasses, which mirrored his own.

  Was it time for him to surrender his hopeless cause and move on? Everything within rebelled at the thought. Leo Rankin, rebellious? Never. Well—maybe.

  “Not interested,” he told Tom.

  “Really? ’Cause I was thinking of striking up a conversation.”

  “Go for it,” Leo urged.

  Tom grinned, straightened his suit coat, and sallied forth. Leo figured their new colleague didn’t stand a chance.

  Chapter Ten

  Two weeks dragged by, and then a third, limping. The first day of spring drew near, but Gerri could find little happiness in her heart.

  It will get easier, she repeated over and over. How long could she miss a guy she barely knew? But she couldn’t deny that along with Leo a spark had gone from her life.

  The beautiful bouquet of flowers long gone and the chocolates eaten, she had only the necklace as a tactile reminder. And the memories associated with that—far too vivid—possessed the power to wound. Unable to relive that magical night, when Leo had stripped everything but the necklace from her body and loved her as she’d never been loved before, she put the exquisite piece away and tried not to imagine what might have been.

  During a cleaning frenzy, she attempted to toss out his card, as well, but couldn’t quite. No matter; his number still lingered in her phone, and she hadn’t been able to delete that, either.

  She hoped that didn’t say something significant about her, hoped she didn’t still hold out a hope for them. Parting ways had been the right thing to do, from a practical standpoint. Trouble was, she now began to realize that while her head might be practical, her heart still longed for the impossible.

  She avoided the library, ridiculously convinced they might bump into each other the way they had that first night. When, on a blustery mid-March day spitting rain, she came home from work and gathered up her mail, she saw with some surprise an envelope from the library nestled among the others.

  Her foolish heart leaped. Was this somehow connected with Leo? Just thinking his name made longing to see him flood through her, and she tore into the envelope.

  An overdue notice. But she didn’t have any books checked out right now. The last time she’d set foot in the library had been that fateful night, looking for something to take to bed with her.

  She’d found it.

  The book! The one they’d agreed to share—it had been checked out on her card.

  Her eyes scanned the apartment. What had she done with it? Given everything else that had happened between them, they’d never got around to unwrapping it. And during her attempted purge of the place, she’d stuck it somewhere.

  There, on the bottom shelf of a table, nearly out of sight and quite surely out of mind. Gerri took the volume in her hands, and memory invaded her even more strongly, piercing her heart. She sank onto the sofa, clutching the book to her chest.

  Had she truly done the right thing, sending Leo Rankin out of her life? Sure, she wanted to protect herself. And yes, many of her past relationship choices had been disastrous. Was she prepared to risk her heart? Because every instinct told her if she gave her heart to Leo, it would be for good.

  She trembled, staring into a possible future that terrified her—and took her breath away. What to do? Continue trying to chase him from her mind, or take one more chance on love?

  With unsteady hands, she tore the brightly-colored paper from the book and stared at the title. She began to laugh, softly at first and then till the tears came.

  She had her answer; it had lain here in her apartment all the time.

  Now she had only to convince Leo.

  ****

  Leo’s phone rang when he’d corrected less than half the papers in the pile at his elbow, and his heart made a sickening leap into the back of his throat.

  Not her. It wouldn’t be her; it never was—not all these interminable, joyless days since she’d pushed him out of her life. Why couldn’t he, in turn, push away his persistent hope?

  No question that Gerri Webb had stolen all the light and warmth from his days—and nights.

  He snatched his phone from the table beside him and scrutinized the number. Tom.

  “Hey, buddy,” his colleague greeted him when he answered. “A bunch of us are going out for drinks. Thought you might like to drag yourself from that cocoon of yours and join us.”

  “I have papers to grade,” Leo protested.

  “We all have papers to grade. Man cannot live by grading alone. And I don’t think it’s healthy for you to keep yourself shut away from the world.”

  Probably not, Leo thought. But what he sought at a basic level wouldn’t be found even in this group of good friends, and he didn’t know if he could stomach watching Tom and Allison, their new faculty member, bill and coo.

  “Thanks for asking,” he told Tom sardonically, “but I’ll have to decline, with regret.”

  Tom called him an idiot and ended the call. Leo returned to an essay that purported the First World War had been triggered by taxation without representation.

  His phone rang again, and he snatched it up without bothering to check the number. “I said I’m not interested. Can’t you take a hint?”

  A lengthy silence met his outburst, before he heard Gerri Webb’s voice.

  “I can, actually. Sorry I—”

  “No—wait!” Leo sprang to his feet, upsetting the pile of papers. “Gerri, I thought it was somebody else.” He added in a voice like a caress, “I want to talk to you.”

  “Sure?”

  “Never been more sure of anything.”

  She exhaled. “I hoped we could meet.”

  “Where?”

  �
��The library. I’d like to show you something.”

  “When?”

  “Well, when’s good for you? If you’re busy…”

  “I can be there in fifteen minutes. Ten.”

  She laughed softly, and fire flared in his blood, warming him for the first time in weeks to something approaching human. “Fifteen’s good. See you then.”

  “Gerri, I—”

  “I’ll explain when I see you, okay?” she appealed.

  “Okay.”

  She ended the call, and he stood staring at his phone like a man in a trance. His tormented heart rose on a wave of mingled joy and longing. All he’d wanted was another chance with her. It seemed he’d get at least one.

  ****

  A March wind chased litter and pedestrians down Waterbury as Gerri stood waiting by the library steps. Her heart pounded in an uneven rhythm that quickened when she caught sight of Leo hurrying up the street. She didn’t know where he had parked, but he came loping with a lithe, long-legged stride that snagged her attention and didn’t let go.

  She stood with the book clutched to her chest and wondered if he’d understand. She’d sent him away for what she’d considered all the right and practical reasons. Would he think her crazy, inviting him back in on a flight of fancy?

  Ask me, his voice whispered in her mind even as he reached her and paused on the sidewalk.

  “Hi.”

  “Hi, Leo. Thanks for coming.”

  He tossed his head but didn’t reply. The wind caught his brown hair and tousled it on his forehead, making him look boyish. Nothing childlike, though, about the way she felt toward this man.

  “Let’s go inside,” she suggested.

  The interior of the library bustled with patrons and staff. A meeting of the book club had just broken up; the circulation desk looked crowded.

  Gerri took Leo’s hand. Just as on their first night together, his fingers laced through hers and their palms met effortlessly.

  “Come on. There’s a reading nook—”

  “I know the one.”