Don't Forget Me

by Meg Benjamin

  “I’ll walk with you,” Nando muttered.

  Her eyes widened slightly as her lips compressed. She looked as if she’d prefer taking her chances with the muggers.

  He held her gaze for a moment, keeping his own desperation to a minimum. “You said it wouldn’t take long.”

  She blew out a breath, then gave him another of those grimace smiles. “I think I can guarantee it’ll take no time at all.”

  Kit wondered which of them would break first as they walked up the street. Actually it was more like a trot than a walk. Clearly, he didn’t want to be walking along Main at her side any more than she wanted him to be. Still, talking would probably have been an improvement over the strained silence between them. Except that she couldn’t think of a thing to say that didn’t sound idiotic.

  When they reached the intersection of Firewheel Lane and Milam, Nando turned toward her. “I saw you in town.”

  She stiffened. So he had seen her that afternoon. She took a breath, trying to think of some way to downplay the whole panic thing. “Oh?”

  “Yeah, you were talking to Docia.”

  Docia. She blinked. “Oh. A couple of days ago.”

  “Yeah. I should have said hello I guess. I didn’t…” He shook his head. “Look, we need to talk.”

  Kit pulled herself up, wishing she had on heels that would bring her eye-to-eye with him. “About what?”

  “We’re living in the same small town.” He sighed, stabbing his fingers through his hair. “We know the same people. We go to the same places. We’re going to run into each other regularly. We need to agree on how that’s going to go down, or people are going to start running in the other direction when they see us coming. I mean, you saw how everybody acted tonight—like we were going to explode or something.”

  Kit’s jaw tightened. She wished she could see an error in his logic, but at the moment she couldn’t. “So?”

  “So how about a truce?” Nando looked at her directly for the first time since they’d left the bar. She’d forgotten the depth of those brown eyes, sort of like black coffee. As she recalled, they turned to velvet when he was aroused.

  Pull it together. Now. “A truce involving what?”

  “Polite conversation when we have to. Silence as long as we can do it without making other people uncomfortable.”

  “Works for me.” She kept her gaze on his Adam’s apple.

  He sighed. “All right then.”

  She glanced up the street toward Aunt Allie’s house. “I can go on home by myself from here.”

  He nodded. “Okay. I guess I’ll see you around.”

  Not if I see you first. She watched him start up the street, trying unsuccessfully to ignore the pinch of her conscience. “Nando.”

  He half turned back. “What?”

  “Thanks for walking me home.”

  He nodded. In the dimness between the street lights it almost looked like he gave her a small grin. “De nada.” He turned and headed back up the street toward Main.

  Chapter Four

  Kit walked in the front door at Allie’s, telling herself she was perfectly okay. She’d seen Nando. She’d exchanged a few sentences. She’d escaped unscathed. More or less. She didn’t really feel nauseated. She wasn’t really short of breath.

  Okay, it hadn’t exactly been her finest hour, but she’d gotten through it. And she’d managed not to show anybody how she felt about seeing him again. Her chest tightened, and she closed her eyes for a moment. Surprising how much it still hurt. It had been over a year, after all.

  But there hadn’t been anyone else during that year, or no one else who made her feel the way Nando did. That mixture of ecstasy and terror, the certain knowledge that nothing that hot could last.

  And she’d been right, of course. It wasn’t like he’d cheated on her just yesterday. It sure felt like it, though.

  “Aunt Allie,” she called. “Are you here?”

  “Here.” Allie’s voice drifted down the hall.

  Kit saw a light in the kitchen. There was a faint thumping sound. She headed toward it.

  Allie was seated on the floor, surrounded by pots and pans. Apparently she was rearranging the cabinets. Which Kit knew for a fact she’d already done only a couple of days ago.

  “Hi,” she said, tentatively. “Need some help?”

  Allie blew a lock of hair off her forehead. “I’d say yes, but I’m not sure what I’m doing yet. The way I set this up the other day just isn’t working. I can’t seem to get things exactly the way I want them to be.” She started rearranging the pot lids on a sliding rack.

  “Steve’s not here?” Kit settled into a kitchen chair.

  For a moment, Allie’s jaw tightened. Then she shrugged. “No. He went home for the evening.” She went back to rearranging the lids again.

  Ooookay. Kit leaned forward on the table. “I saw Janie this morning before I headed to the Woodrose.”

  “Yeah?” Allie said absently. “What’s new with her?” She slid the rack back and forth slightly, narrowing her eyes.

  “She says she’s got some more pictures of bridesmaid dresses to show you. You’re supposed to drop by the bookstore tomorrow when you get a chance.”

  “What?” Allie stared at her, sliding the lid rack into the cabinet with a sudden clang. “Why? Why would she want me to do that?”

  “She said she’d seen some nice dresses in this magazine and maybe they’d work…” Kit’s voice trailed off. “Is something wrong?”

  Across from her, Allie’s hands were clasped so tightly on the floor in front of her that her knuckles showed white. Her eyes looked suspiciously bright. “She’s always trying to get me to make decisions on dresses when I’m not ready yet. I just wish everybody would back off on the whole wedding thing. Just back off for a while and give me room to think.”

  Uh-oh.

  Kit leaned forward in her chair, placing a hand on her aunt’s shoulder. “Aunt Allie, what’s happening? Did you call off the wedding? Did Steve?”

  “Call off…” Allie stared at her blankly. “No, of course not. Why would I call off the wedding? The wedding’s great. Steve’s great. Everything’s great. I can’t wait for the wedding. Whenever we get around to it.”

  “Get around to it?” Kit narrowed her eyes.

  “Right. Well, I’ve just been so busy. The holidays, and then I went to that food festival in Florida. And I’ve got the cookbook coming out.” She licked her lips. “I’m sort of behind on my wedding planning. I haven’t done as much as I should. But, I mean, why would you think we weren’t getting married?”

  “Well, I don’t know exactly. You just seem so…uncertain about it.” Kit swallowed. “And then Steve seemed kind of…upset tonight.” And last night. And the night before. She took a deep breath. “Look, Allie, I feel like I’m tiptoeing blindfolded through a china shop here. You’re upset about something. I can see that. Is it the wedding?”

  Her aunt rubbed her hands across her face, closing her eyes for a moment. Then she shook her head. “No. The wedding is on. Definitely. Honestly. It’s just me. All me. I’m off.”

  “Off how?”

  “I can’t seem to make any decisions about anything,” Allie blurted. “I can’t decide where to have the ceremony and the reception. I can’t decide what decorations we’re going to have. I can’t make up my mind about a dress for myself, let alone dresses for bridesmaids. Jesus Christ, I can’t even decide on a wedding cake! Me. I mean, I’ve made hundreds of wedding cakes. Maybe even thousands. And I can’t decide what kind of cake I want for Steve and me. Every time I try to work on it, I end up putting it off. I’m a freakin’ basket case.” She covered her face with her hands, resting her elbows on her bent knees.

  “What does Steve say?”

  Allie sighed, looking up at her again. “He’s getting antsy. He keeps asking me when we’re going to get going on the date and the venue. He thinks maybe I’m having second thoughts.”

  “Are you?” Kit asked slowly
.

  Allie shook her head so hard her hair went flying. “No. Honestly, I’m not. I’m just… It’s everything at once. I can’t seem to get it all put together. I can’t even get started.”

  “But, Allie, you do this for a living.” Kit frowned. “I mean, I’ve seen the events you’ve put together at the catering company. You’re a star.”

  Her aunt groaned. “That’s part of the problem. I do this all the time for other people. Now I have to do it for myself. What if I mess up? What if it’s not perfect? Hell, what if it’s a complete disaster? I’ll never live it down.”

  “But it doesn’t have to be perfect. It just has to be what you want. And what Steve wants.” Kit took a breath. Clearly, she still wasn’t out of that china shop yet. “Couldn’t he help you somehow? You know, maybe take over some of the decisions so you don’t have so many to make?”

  “Steve!” Allie exploded. “His only suggestion so far has been a country and western band to play for the ceremony. Not the reception, mind you, the actual wedding ceremony. Maybe ‘Whisky River’ for the introit.” She shook her head. “I can count on him to show up and to take care of the best man and the groomsmen. And he’s already said he’ll pay for everything, although I don’t think I’ll let him do that. I mean, I’ve got money of my own. But I can’t count on him for anything else, certainly not for planning a perfect wedding.”

  Kit rubbed a hand across the back of her neck, thinking of all the Maldonado wedding bashes over the years. “Why does it have to be perfect?”

  “It just… It does. That’s all.” Allie’s lips thinned. For a moment, Kit was afraid she might cry.

  “But you’re sure this isn’t about you and Steve?” she asked carefully.

  “It’s not. Honestly, it’s not.” Allie took a shuddering breath. “Honestly. I do love him.”

  Kit ignored the fainted buzzing of alarm bells at the back of her mind. So what if Allie sounded like she was trying to convince herself as much as Kit?

  “Do you have a date you’re thinking of?” she asked hurriedly.

  Allie nodded. “Sort of. I mean I’ve got no venue or anything, but I thought maybe in May. Or possibly April. Just not June. That’s so passé.”

  “May. Possibly April.” Kit stared at her for a long moment. “You do realize it’s the beginning of March right now.”

  “Yes I realize that. Believe me I’m only too well aware of that.” Allie sounded as if her teeth were gritted. Her eyes were tearing up again.

  Kit’s chest squeezed painfully. Her Aunt Allie’s house had been a refuge from Antonio’s Fine Mexican Cuisine for as long as she could remember. Allie had gotten her out of all the family drama that inevitably surrounded the restaurant a couple of times a year and let her run wild in the Hill Country as long as she helped out occasionally in the bakery. Allie had showed her that there was more to life than opening and closing the restaurant on time, that cooking could be something to be proud of and something to enjoy. That serving people was an art, and making them happy was a pleasure all its own. Allie was the reason she’d ended up in hospitality management instead of something like nursing. Because she wanted to be like Allie some day. She owed Allie a large chunk of her sanity. She owed her more than that.

  “Can I help?” she murmured finally. “With the wedding, that is? Maybe do some of the planning? Find you a venue or something? I’m not as expert at the whole thing as you are. I mean I had a couple of PR classes that covered event planning, but I haven’t really done anything on my own. I’d be willing to try if it would make things easier for you, though.”

  Allie took hold of her hand, squeezing so tightly it was almost painful. “Oh my lord, Catarina, are you serious?”

  Kit nodded, ignoring the feeling of panic that made her shoulders clench tight. “Absolutely. I’d be glad to.”

  “Hallelujah.” Allie gave a long sigh. “I’ll take you up on it. You have no idea how big a relief that is.”

  Actually, Kit thought she knew exactly how big it was. The whole load had just landed on her own shoulders, after all. Oh well, at least it would take her mind off anything to do with Nando Avrogado.

  Nando didn’t bother going back to the Faro after he watched Kit walk up the steps to Allie’s porch. He didn’t particularly want to answer any questions, and he knew damn well there’d be some, from Deirdre if no one else.

  He unlocked the apartment and walked down the hall, only to stop when he reached the kitchen. His brother’s cat, Guinevere, was sitting in the middle of the table.

  Nando knew nothing about cat breeds. He did, however, know that his brother’s cat looked less like a Guinevere than any cat he’d ever seen. She was huge, for one thing, and she had a more than passing resemblance to a bobcat, assuming that bobcat had gray tiger stripes. Her ancestor, Arthur, had been the winery cat at Cedar Creek. Guinevere was a product of some long ago liaison between Arthur and another winery feline. She had Arthur’s Maine coon ears and body, but her eyes were pure savagery, a kind of glowing gold that sometimes raised the hair on the back of his neck. Nando tended to avoid her whenever possible. Now, however, his mood was just rotten enough to take her on.

  “Hey, you, Bozo,” he snapped. “Off the kitchen table.”

  The cat regarded him with contempt for a moment, then rose slowly to her feet, stretching at the end, toes extended.

  “Get down, I said,” Nando snarled.

  Guinevere moved ponderously to the edge of the table, then jumped to the floor with a heavy thump. She gave Nando another contemptuous look as she stalked past his boots. See? I did it. So get off my case.

  He grimaced. He was arguing with a cat. But somehow that seemed easier than deciding on a course of action for the future with Kit. Going for an extended vacation somewhere out of state didn’t seem feasible, given that he was supposed to be proving himself to the town in his new position as Assistant Chief of Police. No, he’d just have to live with Kit being in town for a while. Surely he could do that. He was a full-fledged adult, after all.

  “Right,” he muttered. “All of this is a really mature reaction.”

  “Talking to yourself?” Esteban walked across the kitchen to the refrigerator where he took out a pitcher of tea. “Things may be more dire than I thought.”

  “What things?” Nando settled into a chair.

  The cat was regarding Esteban with an expression of reverence. Clearly, his brother had at least one acolyte.

  “I heard about Kit.” Esteban leaned down to scratch Guinevere’s ears. “About the two of you hooking up at the Faro. I was down there later and Chico told me.”

  Nando sighed. “We didn’t hook up. We had a very brief conversation and then I walked her home so that she wouldn’t be on the streets by herself.”

  “So is anything going on between you and her?” Esteban poured him a glass of iced tea along with his own. “Are you going to try to get back with her again?”

  Nando shook his head. “No chance of that. She wouldn’t want me even if I tried. The best we can probably do is to be civil to each other. Beyond that, it’s mostly a lost cause.”

  Esteban shrugged. “You could always apologize.”

  “No I couldn’t.” Nando’s jaw clenched tight. “I tried that before and it didn’t work. And after a year, there’s not much chance she’d be interested. Best to just let it go.”

  His brother leaned back in his chair, shaking his head. “Lizzie Farraday.”

  Nando closed his eyes briefly. “Let it go.”

  “What did you see in her anyway?”

  “Nothing.” He sighed. “I didn’t see anything in her, and she didn’t see anything in me. It was just one of those stupid things.”

  “She never struck me as much competition for Kit,” Esteban mused.

  “She wasn’t. Not one of my smarter moves.”

  “Got that right. Did you ever…”

  Nando gritted his teeth. “What part of ‘Let it go’ do you not understand?”

 
Esteban glanced at him, smiling faintly. “That bad, huh?”

  Nando rubbed a hand across his face. “Oh yeah. Definitely that bad. Nothing like having your worst mistake waved in front of your face every day.”

  Esteban took a swallow of his tea. “So tell me what happened. Everybody in town’s gonna be talking about it soon enough. Might as well let me know too.”

  “You mean what happened tonight or what happened then?”

  His brother shrugged. “Then.”

  Nando closed his eyes. Might as well get it over with. “We had a fight. A big one. Epic. Kit told me to get the hell out and then she walked out too. I went down to the Dew Drop and ran into Lizzie Farraday. That’s it. Unless you want the lurid details of us doing the nasty in the backseat.”

  Esteban frowned. “Whatever happened to Lizzie Farraday?”

  “Damned if I know. She took off a few weeks later. Didn’t bother to say goodbye. Not that I wanted her to. We didn’t have anything much to do with each other after that night.”

  Esteban grimaced. “Nice story.”

  “No it’s not. But that’s what happened.”

  “You want a beer? There’s some Shiner in the fridge.”

  Nando shook his head. “Not tonight. I’m tired. I’m turning in.” He pushed himself up from the table and started down the hall. So what if it was only nine-thirty? If it was a choice between sleep and alcohol, at least this evening he’d be smarter than he’d been the night before.

  Behind him he heard the pad of feet. Guinevere stared up at him when he turned back. “Beat it,” he muttered. “I don’t need company.”

  The cat stayed where she was, studying him with burning golden eyes. Bite me, tough guy.

  After a moment, he sighed, pushing open his bedroom door. He wasn’t even particularly surprised when Guinevere jumped onto the foot of his bed and stretched herself out full length.

  Just another female getting her own way at his expense. Seemed to be the way his luck was running these days.

  Chapter Five