For You I Will

by Donna Hill

  Kai had hit it off with Tiffany Howard from the moment Tiffany had sought Kai’s medical assistance when she needed a prescription for the morning-after pill. Tiffany was so warm, friendly and open that Kai had taken to her right away. They found themselves talking and laughing and finding more and more things in common long after the prescription had been written, and they hadn’t stopped sharing confidences ever since.

  Kai gave her the bug-eye. “Very funny.” She cut her Caesar salad into smaller bite-sized pieces, and made sure that every slice of lettuce was sufficiently coated with dressing before putting it in her mouth.

  Tiffany observed this ritual with wry amusement. “I swear you are the only person that I know that can actually make a major production out of eating a salad.”

  “Would you stop?” She cut up some more pieces. “What should I wear?”

  Tiffany pursed her lips in contemplation. “Hmm. Gallery. Evening. First date. Famous author. Sexy doctor. I say wear the navy wrap dress.”

  “You don’t think that dress is a little too low-cut?”

  “Low-cut? You’re kidding, right? Of course it’s low-cut. It’s supposed to be. That’s the point. If you would ever come out of hospital garbs and sweat suits, you would know that.”

  Kai made a face. “I don’t want him to get the wrong idea.”

  “And what if he did? Would that really be so bad? What would be so wrong with a handsome, sexy, intelligent man showing you how much he wanted you?”

  Kai studied her salad. “It’s just...I don’t know if I want things to go that way.”

  “But you’ll never know if you don’t at least open yourself to the possibility. You said yourself that he’s a really great guy.” She smiled at her friend. “And he’s been after you for a date for forever.”

  Kai giggled. “True.” She released a long breath. Her eyes sparkled in the afternoon light. “I do kinda like that blue number and haven’t had a chance to wear it.”

  “Now you’re talking.” Tiffany pointed a well-manicured finger at her friend. “And don’t forget heels...the higher the better!”

  “Girl, you are a mess.”

  After leaving Tiffany, who had an appointment with a client who wanted to buy some of her imported jewelry, Kai took a walk down to the nail salon and treated herself to a well-deserved and long overdue mani and pedi. She was enjoying the feeling of the warm sudsy water bubbling around her feet when pedestrians strolling past the plate-glass window caught her attention. She jumped up so quickly she splashed water all over the floor and the manicurist.

  “Oh...I’m so sorry.” Kai snatched up a towel and dutifully wiped the young woman’s damp arms. “I’m really sorry,” she repeated.

  “Don’t worry about it. Is everything all right?” She stared at Kai whose attention was glued to the window.

  Slowly, Kai sat back down. In that split second of confusion he was gone. Poof, like an apparition. But she was certain it was him—the man she’d seen in the photo that she’d taken. She lightly shook her head and offered a half smile. “Thought I saw someone...”

  The young woman continued to massage Kai’s feet. “Must be someone important,” the woman prompted.

  “Just someone,” she said absently, even as her entire body was consumed with an inexplicable heat from the soles of her feet to the top of her head, and it wasn’t from the water. Just someone.

  * * *

  Kai took a final look in the bathroom mirror, dropped her lipstick in her purse and returned to her bedroom just as the front doorbell rang. Self-consciously she pulled on the deep V of her dress to no avail. She drew in a breath and went to the front door.

  “Andrew,” she greeted, pasting a broad smile on her face, a combination of nerves and more nerves.

  For an instant his eyes widened with pleasant surprise. “Wow.” He grinned. “You look...great.”

  Her face flushed. “Thanks.” She swallowed. “So do you.”

  “Guess doctors can clean up pretty good, huh?”

  “Guess so.” She stepped aside. “Come on in for a minute. I need to get my purse.”

  Andrew came inside. Kai shut the door behind him. “Have a seat. I’ll be right back. Can I get you anything?”

  “No. Thanks.”

  “Be right back.”

  He took a slow look around the airy living area, which was dominated by a soft taupe-colored sectional couch with a bronze-and-gold stripped throw that looked like it had been meticulously hand-sewn. One wall held a bookcase filled with a cross-section of titles that included medical journals, British classics, contemporary thrillers, romances and a full shelf on photography. A flat-screen television was mounted on the wall. But what drew his attention was above the mantel. It was a near life-size black-and-white photo of the beach during a storm. The composition was breathtaking. Andrew could feel the fury of the surf as it roared toward the shore. Beyond the shoreline, the inky black sky was illuminated by a flash of lightning that exploded from an angry gray cloud and sliced through the horizon. He stepped closer to see the name of the photographer.

  “Ready.”

  He turned and his heart knocked hard in his chest at the sight of her. She was so gorgeous. “Yep. Incredible photo,” he said, hooking a thumb over his shoulder. “Who’s the photographer?”

  She gave a shy smile. “Me.”

  “What!” He chuckled. “You. Are. Good.”

  “Thanks.” She gave a slight shrug of her right shoulder.

  He crossed the gleaming wood floors to stand a few feet in front of her. “How long have you been taking pictures?”

  “Years. It was always a hobby of mine, but with patients, working at the hospital for an inhumane number of hours a week, there wasn’t much time to indulge in my little hobby.” She drew in a breath and smiled. “When I moved here and my life slowed down...” She shrugged again.

  “Well, you definitely have skills, doc.”

  “Thanks.”

  They stood facing each other in an odd moment of silence.

  “Guess we better get going,” Andrew finally said, snapping them both back to the moment.

  “I’m looking forward to meeting Mr. Coben.”

  “You have quite a few of his novels on your shelf.”

  “Ya think?” she teased as they walked to the door and out.

  * * *

  Andrew held the door for her and she slid onto the smooth leather of the Mercedes-Benz CLK. The interior still smelled showroom-fresh and she briefly wondered how long he’d had it.

  “I made reservations at Drummonds, the new place on Main. Have you been there yet?”

  “No, I haven’t.” She settled herself in the car and fastened her seat belt.

  “Good, it’ll be a first for both of us. A colleague from the hospital said the food was great and they usually have live music.”

  “Really? Sounds great.”

  “I can’t remember the last time I’ve been out for dinner where I could simply relax and enjoy myself. Dinners always seem to invariably revolve around business, patients, and hospital administration.” He cut a quick look in her direction as he pulled onto the narrow two-lane road. “So I hope you won’t mind if we don’t utter a word about anything that has to do with patients and health care.”

  Kai laughed lightly. “Fine by me.”

  They drove for a few moments in silence. “I’m really glad you decided to go out with me,” Andrew said, his normally assured voice laced with a hint of uncertainty.

  Kai stole a look in his direction. His profile was set against the backdrop of the darkening sky. “Thanks for asking...again.”

  They both laughed at the obvious implication. Andrew had lost count of how many times he’d asked Kai out and she’d always found a reason to gently say no.

 
“Had I only known that all it would take to lure you out was a Harlan Coben book signing, I would have found a way to get him here long before now.”

  Kai laughed. The dimple in her right cheek deepened. “Was I really that bad?”

  “Yes. Good thing I have a healthy ego or I would be permanently scarred.”

  “I doubt that very seriously.” She relaxed in her seat, glanced briefly at the crest of the horizon beyond her passenger window then turned slightly toward Andrew.

  “Do you even like mysteries?”

  He gave a slight shrug. “I’m more of a Stephen King kind of guy.”

  She gave a fake shudder and a little frown. “Horror! Really? I would have never thought that in a million years.”

  “Why?” He stole a quick look at her and was delighted to see the amusement in her eyes.

  “Hmm, I’m not sure. I guess I figured you for a history or a biography buff.”

  “Real straight, no rough edges.”

  “Not exactly but...”

  “I get it. I totally get it. That’s why it’s more important than ever that you get to know the real me. I’m much more than a pretty face and brilliant mind, you know.”

  Kai tossed her head back and laughed. “That’s to be determined.”

  Drummonds was everything that Drew had said and more. The circular tables were draped in brilliant white linen, with sparkling crystal glasses and gleaming silver. One entire wall was smoked glass from end to end and looked out onto the pier, giving view to the gently flapping sails of the docked boats undulating on the water. The circular bar was a mixture of chrome, dark red wood and marble. Every stool was taken.

  “Welcome to Drummonds. Do you have a reservation?” the slim hostess donned in all black asked.

  “Yes, two for Clarke,” Andrew said.

  The hostess checked her reservation list, looked up and smiled. She took two menus from the rack. “Right this way. Your table is ready.”

  Andrew placed his hand at the small of Kai’s back and guided her behind the hostess who wound her way around the tables, dance floor and up one level to their table in front of the window. She placed the menus on the table. Andrew helped Kai into her seat then took his.

  “Can I get you anything from the bar before your waiter arrives?”

  Andrew looked to Kai with a questioning rise of his brow.

  Kai glanced up at the waitress. “A glass of white wine.”

  “Anything for you, sir?”

  “Why don’t you bring us a bottle of sauvignon blanc?” He gave Kai a quick look of inquiry.

  She offered her assent with a shadow of a smile. “Please.”

  The hostess tipped her head. “Right away.”

  Andrew turned his full attention back to Kai.

  “I had no idea Drummonds was anything like this,” Kai said.

  “Very Upper East Side Manhattan,” he joked.

  She laughed. “Exactly. I mean the restaurants here are very nice but mostly quaint and cozy.” She gazed around in appreciation.

  The waiter arrived with their bottle of wine and filled each of their glasses then took their dinner order before leaving as quietly as he’d arrived.

  Andrew lifted his glass. “To a wonderful evening.”

  Kai lightly tapped her glass to his.

  “So tell me some more about your photography.” He took a sip of his wine then set his glass down.

  Kai wrapped her long, slender fingers around the stem of her glass and gazed into the crystal depths of its contents. “I suppose I always had a thing for seeing things in parts.”

  “In parts?”

  “Yes. This may sound a little quirky but...” She pushed out a breath. “To me, I see things in pieces, not as a whole. It’s like looking at what’s in front of me in...frames. I compartmentalize.” She looked at him from beneath her long lashes.

  A line of concentration etched itself between his brows. “All the time?”

  “Pretty much.”

  He thoughtfully sipped his wine. “So you’re not the ‘big picture’ kind of a girl.”

  Kai grinned. “Nope. Guess not.” She sipped her wine. “What about you when you aren’t doctoring?”

  Kai listened while Andrew talked about his love of the outdoors, the yearly camping trips with his college buddies and the marathon that he ran every year. She listened, nodded and “mmm-hmmed” in all the right places and wondered if she could ever put Andrew into one her compartments and label it “her man,” “significant other,” or “husband.” For whatever reason, she simply could not see him fitting into any of those spaces in her life. Maybe she had been out of the relationship game for so long that she no longer knew how to play.

  When Kai and Andrew arrived at the Grenning Gallery there was a line waiting to get in.

  “Looks like it’s going to be pretty crowded in there,” Andrew said as he guided Kai onto the line.

  “This is so exciting. I can’t wait to meet him.”

  “You and a lot of other fans.”

  They inched along on the line and finally made it inside. Andrew was right. The Grenning Gallery was packed, upstairs and down. The reading and signing were set up on the upper level. The lower level was for appetizers and refreshments. The crowd was an eclectic blend of the die-hard fan and the curious, garbed in everything from jeans and sneakers to evening wear.

  “Can I get you something to drink?” Andrew asked, leaning close to be heard over the mild din.

  “Hmm, sure. A glass of white wine.”

  “Stay put. I don’t want to lose you,” he said and flashed Kai a look that gave his words much more meaning.

  Kai held her small purse to her chest and took in her surroundings. It had been a while since she’d been to the gallery, partly because she’d totally run out of excuses why she would not exhibit her photography and couldn’t bear disappointing the owner again. She’d donated a couple of her photos months earlier for a fund-raiser and the owner had been after her to do a show ever since.

  Hopefully with all the people at the gallery, they wouldn’t cross each other’s paths.

  Her gaze slowly moved around the room, capturing images of the art, the people and the movements, and forming a montage of sorts in her mind. With each blink of her eyes, another image was snapped. Then there was a big hum in the air, the buzz of excitement that always preceded a major event. The author had arrived, accompanied by his publicist and a photographer. The surge of the crowd moved her along in their wake.

  The bevy of guests began taking cell-phone pictures as Harlan Coben made his way through the throng, smiling and shaking hands along the way as he was led upstairs.

  Kai peered over the sea of heads and shoulders trying to locate Andrew when her gaze landed on him. Heat rushed to her head and her heart banged in her chest. It was him. He was partially turned in her direction. His profile was identical to the one she’d snapped months earlier. He was turning in her direction. Something or someone drew his attention and he turned and walked in the opposite direction.

  “There you are.” Andrew had come up behind her. “Thought I’d lost you to the crowd. Did you get to see him before he was swept away?”

  She glanced over her shoulder at Andrew. Her cheeks were hot. “Oh...yes. Just for a minute,” she said.

  Chapter 3

  “Mr. Weston, your wife is on line three.”

  Anthony Weston’s dark brows tightened across his forehead. He didn’t know how many times he would have to tell his secretary, Valerie, that Crystal was the ex-Mrs. Weston. Maybe Val couldn’t or wouldn’t get it right because he was still wrestling with that reality nearly two years after their divorce.

  He pressed the flashing light on his phone. “Hey...Crystal. What’s up?”

  �
��How are you?”

  Her voice still flowed through his veins like good brandy, warm and fluid, and could sneak up on him and knock him out when he least expected it. “I’m good. You?”

  “Fine. Trying to get everything together for Jessie’s trip...and mine. She’s so excited.”

  “I’m looking forward to it.”

  “I wish I’d had the chance to see where you’ll be staying, Tony.” The hint of censure in her tone caused his jaw to tighten.

  “I wouldn’t take our daughter anywhere that you or I wouldn’t stay. The house is beautiful. The locale is safe and she’ll have a ball.”

  Crystal pushed out a breath. “I’ll drop her off in the morning?”

  “Sure, or tonight if you want.”

  “No. I want us to have one more night together.”

  “You make it sound like she’s going away forever. It’s just a couple of weeks. With her father,” he added a bit more harshly than necessary.

  “I know that,” she snapped.

  Anthony squeezed his eyes shut. It never ceased to amaze him how their conversations could go from zero to sixty in a flash, and that was not always a good thing. “What time is your flight tomorrow?”

  “Two.”

  “Do you want me to pick up Jess and take you to the air—”

  “No,” she said, quickly cutting him off. “It’s not necessary.”

  Anthony was silent for a moment. He knew what that meant. Gordon Russell was taking her to the airport and more than likely traveling with her on the Caribbean vacation. It stung, but not as much as it once did. Crystal had stopped mentioning anything about Gordon after Anthony’s last “another man around his daughter” tirade. He knew he’d taken it too far. He’d allowed his ego to run roughshod over his common sense. It took his and Crystal’s amicable though cool relationship to an arctic freeze and it was still in the throes of unthawing.

  “Hey, no problem. What time are you dropping Jess off?”

  “About eleven.”