Shattered

by Olga Bicos

  She didn’t answer him, just kept on going. Why try and defend her choice?

  “You want people to use you?” he asked, not giving up. “You want more episodes like today?”

  “I’ll be more careful.” Of course, he wouldn’t believe her. Who would, under the circumstances? “I’m on guard now, you see.” The argument sounded weak even to her ears, but it was the only one she had.

  They were standing outside, the valet looking nervous with their raised voices.

  Ryan pulled her aside. “Trust me on this, you’re not ready for what’s coming.”

  “And still, it will be a refreshing change from unemployment.”

  “I haven’t told you everything.”

  “That much I figured out.”

  “There’s no reason for you to stay and more than enough reasons for you to leave.”

  With a glance back at the valet, Ryan grabbed her hand and guided her down the street. When they turned the corner, it was like that night in the alley. Suddenly, there was no one around to help if it all went wrong, which it most certainly would. But not in the way she’d feared that first night. What was happening between them now was totally different—and even more dangerous.

  Because she was starting to think all sorts of crazy thoughts. That sometimes things happen for a reason. That what she was feeling now, staring up at him—practically in his arms—might be as good as any reason she could come up with.

  “It’s not as easy as you think to walk away,” she told him, not talking about Cutty House anymore.

  “It should be.”

  They’d been having an argument. He needed to make her listen to reason. Logic, the male cornerstone.

  But suddenly, the energy between them changed. Ryan kept staring at her mouth. Holly raised up on her tiptoes.

  He kissed her, his mouth opening over hers. He held her by her shoulders, bringing her closer. It was unexpected and passionate and more devastating than she could have ever planned. What’s more, she kissed him back.

  “If you’re trying to scare me away,” she said, “this is a really bad tactic, because I’ve been thinking about this for a very long time.”

  He didn’t answer, just pushed her up against the wall and leaned over her, his two hands on the brick on each side of her face. Deepening the kiss, he whispered urgent words she couldn’t quite understand as his hands stroked and eased. She didn’t know how long the kiss lasted, a few seconds or forever. She just knew she didn’t want him to stop.

  Only, Ryan did, stepping away from her as if it were the hardest thing he’d ever done. He caught his breath, his hard blue eyes asking the question: What next?

  She’d never been one for silence, comfortable or otherwise. There’d just been too much of it in her life. Harris, working all those hours. Her father relegating himself to the role of failure, a mere observer as his children struggled to keep the boat afloat.

  “This isn’t who I am,” she said, breaking that tense silence. “I don’t do crazy.”

  “If you stay, it will only get crazier. You’re living the life of another woman. You’re stepping into her shoes. Trust me, it’s not a place you want to be.”

  But that wasn’t what worried Holly. Right then, she focused on something much more trivial.

  “Just now. That kiss?” she asked. “How do I know you weren’t kissing Nina?”

  “My point exactly.”

  She hated that he’d said it. She hated even more that he could look her in the eye, making himself seem strong when she thought he was only being weak.

  Or did she have it wrong? Was she the weak link here, wanting him to give in to the fantasy she’d been building for them?

  How do I know you weren’t kissing Nina?

  “Well,” she said, stepping away. “I guess this is good night, then.”

  Now it was Holly putting distance between them, horrified that she’d compared herself to Nina in the first place. She walked to the restaurant just down the block. She handed the valet her ticket, trying to settle her breathing. She told herself not to look back. Keep your eyes forward.

  When her rental drove up, she stepped inside, tip in hand. She didn’t turn to look around, didn’t search the sidewalk to see if he’d be there waiting.

  When she drove away, she told herself to be careful. Don’t get distracted. It was a busy street, after all. She only glanced in her rearview mirror the one time.

  She saw him then, standing at the corner where she’d left him, watching her drive away as the fog circled and teased.

  Watching the lights of North Beach slip past, she focused on the road. At the next stop, she took a breath. She touched her lips.

  His kiss. A very bad move on his part. Because despite everything he’d told her, Holly was learning that, these days, she didn’t always do what was sensible.

  19

  Emma didn’t believe in regrets. Twelve years ago, she’d learned how to take that kind of emotion and bury it so deep, most times it couldn’t even hurt. Like making love to Harris. She couldn’t say it was something to repent.

  But here she was, first thing in the morning, full of regret. Drowning in it. Because right now, more than anything, she didn’t want to be lying next to Daniel in his bed.

  Last night had opened some peculiar door inside her, allowing regret inside as Daniel coaxed her to stay. Not for sex, he assured her. And they hadn’t made love. They’d just lain in bed, their clothes still on, Daniel holding her.

  The fight had been their excuse. He’d hurt her. He didn’t deserve her forgiveness. Certainly not her love. Not yet. He’d work on it. He’d earn her back. He’d done it before. Many times.

  But all night that regret bloomed inside her, opening the door to others.

  Emma slipped out from under the covers, trying not to wake Daniel. She didn’t succeed. He grabbed her hand, reeling her back into the bed, his arm anchoring her there.

  “Don’t go,” he whispered. “Stay.” He kissed her neck. “Just a little longer.”

  She settled back against him, giving in.

  You always give in.

  She’d never thought of it like that before. Giving in. Whatever Daniel wanted, it just seemed right, a part of her. She couldn’t remember a time in her life that she hadn’t loved Daniel.

  She used to dream that he would marry her. She remembered the first time: Please, God. Let me marry him. Remembered how handsome he’d looked in his pristine white apron over black slacks, white shirt and tie. All the others waiters hovered around him, the center of the kitchen like the old-fashioned stove. She’d thought even then she’d be the luckiest girl in the world if he’d have her.

  “I have to go,” she told him, her memories choking her with regret.

  This time, he didn’t to stop her. It surprised her a little that Daniel was capable of guilt, at least where she was concerned. In Daniel’s book, everything else—Cutty House, the family—was owed him.

  She showered and dressed quickly. Before she left, she sat beside him on the bed. He’d expect that. No use causing a scene, leaving without saying goodbye.

  He huddled closer, the smile on his face letting her know he expected forgiveness.

  “I’ve been thinking,” he said.

  “Hmm.”

  She didn’t want to hear his plans, and she thought she should leave before she told him so to his face.

  “You were right.” He stroked her arm, sitting up in bed beside her. “It’s a fine idea. You getting to know Holly’s brother. Harris is his name, right?”

  “Yes. Harris.” She wondered how she could feel so dead inside and still sound normal.

  He gave her hand a squeeze. “I won’t be jealous anymore. I promise.” And then, more tentatively still, “You understand?”

  “I understand.” That he’d found another use for her.

  “I don’t love her,” he whispered.

  For a minute, she wasn’t sure who he was talking about. Nina…Holly…or possibly hers
elf.

  “I don’t know if I ever did,” he said.

  Nina, then. “Sure.”

  “Don’t say it like that,” he chastised. “Like you don’t believe me.”

  She sighed. “Daniel, she was pregnant with your child.”

  “Shh. I don’t want to talk about it. Come back to bed.”

  But she gave him a quick kiss and stood. He followed her out, letting her know he felt bad enough to make the effort. She knew all his secrets, after all.

  At the door, he kissed her again. “I’ll see you at the house, okay?”

  That’s what they called Cutty House. They’d called it that since they were kids, pretending they would live there someday like royalty.

  She’d been part of his plans even then, she thought, taking the elevator down to the ground floor. She and Daniel against the world.

  Only, it was all changing now, coming apart. And she kept thinking about what they’d done by bringing Holly here. Giving the past new life. How it couldn’t end well for anyone—even Daniel.

  But Daniel wouldn’t see it that way. He’d just keep at it. Like this morning—I won’t be jealous anymore—pushing her. He didn’t know any better. He just wanted…needed. Later, when it all went to shit, then he’d think, What was I thinking?

  By then, of course, it would be too late.

  Emma found Harris waiting for her at the gates to Cutty House. He stepped out of the shadows, looking as if he hadn’t slept. She imagined him waiting there all night, a romantic notion not rooted in any sense of reality, but a nice antidote to her morning with Daniel. As if she could ever be that important to anyone.

  But he was there. And he was waiting for her, making Emma hate herself even more for wanting him there.

  “You need a shave,” she said.

  “I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

  His eyes. He had the most beautiful eyes. Brown, very mellow, but at the same time watching you with this intensity.

  “I would have gone to his place,” he said. “Done the whole knock down the door, high drama.” He shrugged. “But I thought I would make everything worse.”

  She nodded. “Incredibly worse.”

  And then he did the strangest thing. He held out his hand to her, still watching her with his lovely brown eyes. And she found herself stepping forward, slipping her hand into his hand as if it belonged there, for the first time in her life desiring someone other than Daniel.

  “Do you have time for a walk?” he asked.

  She nodded, taking her first steps into another kind of deception.

  Holly slept in fits and starts, falling in and out of the strange dream. She and Daniel were dancing in the ballroom at Cutty House. They both wore masks, the kind that just covered the eyes. Dressed to the nines, they were the only two people in the room. A string quartet played from the music shell, and when the music stopped, she felt a hand on her shoulder turn her around. Suddenly Ryan stood before her. He smiled, as if about to cut in, but instead reached over and ripped off her mask.

  “You’re not Nina!”

  She sat up straight in bed. I’m not Nina.

  “I’m not Nina,” she said, repeating the words out loud in the dark bedroom.

  In the dream, she’d been wearing Nina’s black gown from the portrait. She remembered Ryan’s warning, that she was stepping into another woman’s life.

  Which was probably what had brought on the dream. Her fear that he was right. She was playing a part. Enjoying the clothes she bought with Emma, the posh apartment given by Daniel—and kissing Ryan, that most of all. The practical, hardworking Holly Fairfield had vanished. In her place was a woman taking risks—and liking it so very much.

  Living the life of another woman.

  “Arghh!” She covered her face with the pillow.

  The picture didn’t get any clearer walking to work in the chill early morning. Almost within reach of Cutty House, she saw the mansion looming, and stopped. The street ahead fell away like a roller coaster, as if the house resided at the edge of some dark precipice, reminding her of the passage from Poe’s, “The House of Usher.” During the whole of a dull, dark and soundless day…a sense of insufferable gloom pervaded my spirit.

  A businesswoman, a briefcase swinging in hand, stepped around Holly, reminding her to move on. She prompted herself to put one foot in front of the other, knowing that, at times like these, life had to be reduced to its simplest components.

  A few minutes later, she arrived on the second floor of Cutty House with her coffee in hand. As she backed into her office, she was giving herself The Talk: One day at a time, girl! She even felt a little better for those last few minutes of concentrated optimism. As she’d told Ryan, she was on guard now. Once everyone figured out who she was—that’s right. Not Nina. That architect woman. What did you say her name was?— then everything would fall into place.

  “I hope it’s all right that I showed myself in.”

  The voice caught her off guard. If Holly had been a little less tired, she might have overreacted. Might have jumped right out of her practical walking shoes, instead of managing a fairly decent about-face to find Vanessa Cutty leafing through her design sketches.

  “Please.” Vanessa gestured toward Holly’s desk. “Sit down.” Like she owned the place. But then, of course, she did.

  Holly slipped behind her desk and dropped the briefcase at her feet. She kept her coffee in hand, praying for the magic of caffeine to kick in. She had the idea that she was looking at her opposite number. Nine in the morning and Vanessa already looked as if she’d spent a productive day at the salon. She wore her shoulder-length hair perfectly coifed, a very chic take on the old-fashioned flip. The clothes were equally stylish, a python print pantsuit in a subtle tan-and-white. For the life of her, Holly couldn’t remember what she was wearing under her trench coat—not a good sign.

  Vanessa glanced at the drawings spread out on the drafting table. “These are lovely.”

  She could just as easily have used words like cute, fun…interesting. Vanessa Cutty wasn’t here about Holly’s work.

  Watching her cross the room, Holly wondered if she could ever achieve that kind of sophistication. At the same time, she remembered Marta Travers, how she gathered people around her by the warmth of her smile.

  “There’s a few things I think Daniel has, regrettably, kept from you, Holly,” Vanessa said, taking off at a full gallop. “Let’s start with his name, Daniel East. That’s incorrect.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “Estes. His name—his father’s name. Panamanian, I believe. Daniel excels at creating a fantasy, then making it come true.”

  Vanessa relayed the information with a complete lack of expression on her face. Don’t crack a smile, you’ll get a wrinkle. As if someone had overdone the Botox.

  But then, Holly thought there might be more to it. She doesn’t like me—I’m part of that fantasy Daniel’s creating.

  “His mother, my husband’s older sister, ran off with the hired help,” she said, confirming Emma’s story. “Of course, my father-in-law and his wife never approved. As a result, they disowned her. She had Daniel less than a year later. Daniella. That was her name.”

  She made a face. Daniel’s mother had named her son after herself—Vanessa didn’t approve. As if she couldn’t stretch her imagination beyond the obvious.

  “I’m sure it was difficult for my sister-in-law. Especially since that fool man left them both. By the time Daniel was eight, Samuel, on my insistence, brought him to live with us. I tried to make him feel welcomed, part of the family, but you can imagine.”

  This time, her expression was as good as a prompt card. “Of course,” Holly said, not really sure she could imagine. According to Emma, Daniel had been treated more or less like the hired help.

  “I think you may have guessed that Daniel and Emma are an item,” she said, almost reading Holly’s mind that Emma might not be the most objective source. “Though they try to hi
de it. Emma’s father was our chef for years. A fantastic cook when he wasn’t falling-down drunk. Emma and Daniel have a lot in common. Only children of single parents. The struggle that binds. Daniel started working in the kitchen when he was ten. Emma spent a lot of time there because of her father.”

  Vanessa looked like she was just warming up. And boy, did she know how to keep an audience. Give her a minute, enjoy the show.

  “If Nina hadn’t died…It’s impossible to know how much that horrible day changed our lives. But after her death, Ryan felt certain obligations to Nina’s parents. Admirable, yes, but devastating for Cutty House.”

  Holly noted the careful wording. Devastating for Cutty House, but no mention of her own feelings. A mother’s rejection. Strictly business.

  “As you can see, Daniel has stepped in, something I appreciate more than I can say. He runs Cutty House.” A delicate pause—a simple glance. “And now, it seems, he’s hired you.”

  Holly could feel the caffeine kicking in. “Now he has both Cutty House and Nina. You think he’s trying to take Ryan’s place?”

  Vanessa sighed. She liked the subtle approach. And here was Holly forcing her to be all crass and direct.

  “He’s certainly done his best to convince both my husband and myself that you’re here on merit and not on looks.” She glanced back at the drawings, her expression not quite insulting. “But I do worry,” she said. “Daniel…he’s still working through his past. Cutty House means everything to him.” She smiled. “Yes, you’re right. I am afraid that on some level he’s still competing with his cousin.”

  “I’ve met Ryan. We’ve talked about Nina,” she said, needing some defense in the face of Vanessa’s assault.

  “Of course you have. He saw you at the party. I assume he couldn’t let it pass. But I think you should be careful just the same.”

  She spoke the last words so softly, Holly wasn’t sure she heard correctly the warning there at the end.

  “Of Ryan?” she asked.

  The door opened. Daniel stepped inside. The look on his face when he glanced from Holly to Vanessa said he wasn’t happy to see them.