by Cat Schield
“I don’t know if I was or wasn’t. Boys didn’t notice me. I was too quiet. Utterly forgettable.”
“Now that I don’t believe.”
If he’d met her at seventeen would he have been equally blind? Probably. Only a mature man could appreciate a woman with complex layers. Had that been the case with her ex-husband? There had been a ten-year age gap between them. Yet from everything Zoe had—and hadn’t—said about her ex, it didn’t sound like the man had wanted to cherish, only to control.
“It’s true. I was pretty socially awkward. I still am. As Tristan’s wife I learned to handle myself in public, saying all the right things, joining the right groups, making the right friends.” Bitterness gave her voice a sharp edge. “I lost sight of who I was.”
“I think most people wear some sort of façade in public,” he said. “We want to fit in and be liked.”
“You don’t do that.”
His tone was firm as he said, “We all do it.”
“Until I met you I’d forgotten how nice it was to speak my mind and not worry about the consequences.”
Consequences? Ryan frowned. What sort of cost had she endured just because she’d voice her opinion? His chest tight with emotion, Ryan wrapped his arms around her and buried his face in her neck.
Playing the part of Zoe’s hero might lead him down a dangerous road. The last time he’d tried to rescue a damsel in distress it had backfired spectacularly. Yet tonight he’d embarked on a journey. A first step back to trust. And Ryan couldn’t bring himself to slow down.
Eight
Zoe caught herself humming as she worked on the books in her “office” in the back room of Second Chance Treasures. For the first time since she’d signed the lease, Zoe glimpsed light at the end of the tunnel and knew they were going to be okay. The relief made her feel lighter than air.
Or maybe her positive outlook had more to do with Ryan.
After being married to Tristan for eight years, she was cynical enough to attribute her happy glow to all the fantastic sex she and Ryan were having, but deep down she acknowledged there was more to it. She enjoyed hanging out and talking with Ryan. And the man actually listened while she went on and on about her hopes for the store and the challenges of helping victims of domestic abuse. He didn’t shy away from her need to vent and Zoe valued that as much as she did his glorious kisses.
“Here’s the mail,” Jessica said, setting a stack of envelopes on the desk and startling Zoe out of her musing. “Is it okay if I head to lunch in ten minutes?”
“Sure.” She realized it was nearly noon. She saved the spreadsheet she’d been working on and closed her laptop. “I’ll just go through the mail real quick, and then come up front.”
“No hurry. The morning rush has mostly cleared out and Eva mastered the register really fast.”
With the store’s desperate and immediate financial pressures eased somewhat, Zoe had hired Eva to replace Magnolia. Like Jessica, Eva had a school-age child, a daughter with her mother’s blond hair and big brown eyes. She had a neighbor who could watch the little girl on Saturdays so Eva could pick up some extra hours at the store.
In the wake of the theft, Zoe had pondered what to do about reporting the stolen money. After much soul searching, she’d chosen not to pursue legal action. Magnolia had never struck her as a thief. If she needed the money that badly, her situation must have been desperate. And Zoe was all too familiar with how that felt.
Besides, the way traffic continued to increase over the last couple of weeks, the store was in a much better situation. She might be able to bring on even more help. The irony wasn’t lost on Zoe. None of this would be possible without Ryan and Susannah’s support. Zoe had wormed her way into the candidate’s orbit so she could dig up dirt. Instead she’d been helped by Susannah working her connections to bring Second Chance Treasures to the attention of other well-meaning socialites. The word-of-mouth advertising had brought women in, but it was the quality of the inventory that encouraged them to pull out their wallets.
It seemed as if ever since she’d set foot in Susannah’s campaign headquarters, her financial and emotional situations had taken a positive turn thanks to the Dailey siblings. And how was she responding to their kindness? With betrayal and lies.
Hundreds of times a day she sought a way out of her pledge to harm Susannah, knowing that Everly wouldn’t listen to any of Zoe’s pleas to escape their revenge bargain. Everly was determined to have her pound of flesh and expected Zoe to serve it up on a silver platter.
Plagued by gut-churning anxiety, Zoe made quick work of sorting the mail. Most of it was advertising and catalogs. She set the phone bill on the pile of invoices she needed to write checks for and reached for the final envelope. It was large and plain with only her name and the store’s address neatly printed on the front. Expecting it was one of those tricks companies used to pique someone’s curiosity so they’ll open the envelope instead of sending it straight to the trash, Zoe slit it open and pulled out the contents.
At first she had trouble registering what she held. Quickly, however, uneasiness spread through her as she realized it was pages and pages of legal documents and bank statements belonging to a series of limited liability companies. There were five companies in all, each owned by a different LLC entity. The exact meaning of what she was staring at escaped her, until she scanned the paperwork for the last company and noted her ex-husband’s name.
An electric shock blasted through her. She matched up the legal documents with the bank statements. Here was the money Tristan had hidden from her. He’d created a series of foreign shell companies to conceal his funds, but the banks he’d used were all located in the United States. How could he do something like that and get away with it?
That was a question for someone knowledgeable in such matters. Zoe considered if she should take this to her divorce lawyer. The idea of going up against Tristan in court a second time with Sherman Sutter at her side gave her pause. He’d been badly outmatched by Tristan’s team of sharks. It almost wasn’t fair to put him through what would likely be an even more contentious fight.
The bell on the store’s front door tinkled merrily, reminding Zoe that Eva was alone out front. She tucked the papers back in their envelope and slid them into the desk drawer. Then, feeling as if she’d just been handed a ticking time bomb, Zoe headed into the store.
Not even a steady stream of customers could keep Zoe’s thoughts off the implications of the documents in her possession. Once the shock had worn off, it had occurred to her that they’d probably come from London. How she’d managed such a daring feat, Zoe had no idea, but it drove home a painful truth.
Everly and London had completed their part of the bargain. Now it was up to Zoe to either find or fabricate something that would damage Susannah’s campaign. The thought of hurting Ryan or his sister made her ill, but she couldn’t back out of the plan. Everly was too invested in avenging her sister to ever let Zoe walk away.
* * *
Ryan flopped onto his back, chest heaving. On the living room rug beside him, Zoe was equally winded. As they panted in unison, he found that he was grinning. Once again they’d been unable to make it upstairs to his bedroom. They hadn’t even managed to get fully undressed before lust had overpowered them.
Since finding out Zoe was on birth control and they’d agreed condoms weren’t necessary, every room on the first floor had seen some sort of action. Ryan couldn’t seem to keep his hands off her and Zoe had proved an eager and willing partner.
“Damn,” he murmured in appreciation. “We did it again.”
“Third time this week,” Zoe agreed, sounding somewhat bemused. “I’ve never been like this before.”
Ryan turned his head and gazed at her profile. “Like what?”
“Horny all the time.” She heaved a long-suffering sigh. “It’s really distracting. And
annoying. I’m half as productive as I used to be.”
“I like this new side of you.” In fact, he liked all sides of her.
Without moving her head, she shifted her gaze from the ceiling to him. “What new side of me?”
“The one where you’re a lot more open.”
“How do you figure I’m more open?”
“When we first met you were a closed book. Now you speak your mind.”
“It’s not always polite to do so.”
“Maybe not,” Ryan said, “but it’s real.” He ran his lips across her shoulder, sending a shiver down her arms. “I can work with real.”
“What does that mean?”
Zoe sat up and started to pull her clothes back into place, signaling the end of their intimacy. She was often skittish after they made love, as if she regretted letting go. Her defensive behavior left Ryan wondering what had gone on during her marriage. So far he hadn’t pried, but his curiosity was getting the best of him.
He’d already concluded that she was a survivor. Not that she’d confided any such thing, but her passionate stand against domestic violence hinted that she’d been a victim herself.
“I hope you realize that this has grown past a casual fling for me,” Ryan said, deciding to put his cards on the table in a show of good faith. “I want you to be able to trust me.”
“I do.”
Her quick answer didn’t satisfy him. “Sometimes I feel like I barely scratch the surface with you.”
She drew her knees to her chest and faced him. “I’ve spent a lot of years hiding my true feelings.”
“You don’t have to do that with me.”
“Opening up scares me.” She set her chin on her knees and avoided his gaze. “I feel vulnerable and exposed.”
“What do you expect me to say or do to hurt you?”
“Nothing.” Yet her flat expression and closed body language said otherwise. “I don’t think you’re the sort of person who would judge or ridicule me.”
Meaning others had come before him who had. “Did your ex-husband do those things?”
“I don’t want to rehash my marriage.”
“I’ll take that as a yes.”
She scowled. “You are so annoying.”
“So you’ve mentioned.” He grinned at her, preferring insults to carefully worded statements that hid her true emotions. “You know I’ll eventually get the truth out of you, so why not just come clean now?”
“Ugh.” Zoe pushed to her feet and stalked to the dining table where they’d abandoned plates of chocolate cake to feast on each other. She returned with one of the decadent desserts and plopped down beside him. “Why would you want me to talk about my relationship with Tristan?”
“Because I want to know more about you and I think you’re holding on to a lot of pain and anxiety about your marriage.”
She popped a bite of cake into her mouth and took her time savoring the flavors. “He was very controlling and highly critical of my appearance.” As she spoke, she offered him a forkful of cake.
“You’re a stunningly beautiful woman,” he told her, his tongue flicking out to catch a bit of chocolate off his lip. “What is there to be critical of?”
“He wanted me to look a certain way. I was expected to be thin, but without muscle definition. He demanded my hair be a certain length and color. He preferred me in pastels, pink, peach or blues, and hated any shades of yellow or green. No bright colors and no black.” Her hand shook as she speared into the cake once more. “I learned early on not to voice my opinion or to offer suggestions.”
“Why did you marry him?” The question came out more bluntly than Ryan would’ve wished, but he couldn’t reconcile the Zoe he’d come to know with the woman she was describing and needed to understand.
“I was young and naïve and I didn’t have a clear sense of what I wanted to do with my life. My mother was thrilled that I’d caught the interest of a handsome, wealthy businessman and pushed me to ‘be smart’ every time I doubted if he was the right man for me.” While she talked, Zoe devoured the rest of the cake as if the sugary dessert eased her discomfort.
“So your new look...” Ryan indicated her short hair and the long graphic tank she wore like a minidress that bared the strong, sexy muscles in her arms and legs. Her over-the-knee boots lay a little distance off. “Is it a complete rejection of everything your ex demanded or the real you?”
A fleeting smile crossed Zoe’s lips. “There’s no question I’m rebelling. When I first cut my hair, I felt empowered and revolutionary.”
“Now?”
She shrugged. “I’m a work in progress.” Her gaze caught his. “Does that bother you?”
“Why should it?” He had no intention of judging her. “I like to think we’re all evolving.”
“Even you?”
He’d asked her to talk about herself, so it was only fair that he share a bit of his own inner struggles. “After what happened with Kelly Briggs, I’ve had a hard time trusting people I don’t know well.”
“Like me?”
“Yes.” He wondered if he should come clean about his ongoing suspicions. If he kept silent and the truth came out later, it might damage their intimacy during a period when their relationship was heating up. “When you first volunteered for Susannah’s campaign, we all thought you were working for Abernathy.”
“And now you believe otherwise.”
Ryan paused a beat before answering. “The reason I caught your lease up was because your landlord is a friend of Abernathy’s and I wondered if they were using your financial problems as a way to get you to spy.”
Zoe’s eyes widened. “But that was only little over a week ago. You still thought I might be working for Abernathy when we...” She shook her head. “And now?”
“Now, I—”
“Wait,” she said, interrupting him. “I understand if you still don’t trust me. I haven’t exactly been an open book. And after what happened with your company, you have every reason to be suspicious.”
Taking the empty plate from her, Ryan set it aside and slid his fingers around the back of her neck, drawing her in for a kiss. “But I don’t want to be,” he told her, his lips drifting against hers. “I think there’s something really great happening between us and I don’t want our past experiences to mess up what’s going on now or what could develop in the future.”
As he finished speaking he noticed how Zoe’s muscles had gone still. He glanced down at her expression and noticed her frown. Was he moving too fast? She’d only recently finalized her bitter, contentious divorce. Maybe she wasn’t ready to think about a future with him.
Just as Ryan was wondering whether he should walk back his declaration, Zoe scooted closer and put her hand on his knee and said, “That’s exactly how I feel.”
As she pushed her lips hard against his, stirring the explosive chemistry between them to life once more, hazy suspicion lingered in the wake of her declaration. However, before he could pursue the questions that infiltrated his thoughts, they were incinerated by a fiery rush of passion.
* * *
On the Saturday of Susannah’s fund-raiser, Zoe regarded her reflection while a familiar anxiety created a lump in her stomach. As she’d applied her smoky makeup and slipped into the strapless navy gown embellished with gold sequins, she’d been imagining the shocked disapproval of her former acquaintances as they took in her short blond hair and celestial-themed dress.
One purpose in changing her look had been to reinvent herself postdivorce. But had she gone too far?
It frustrated Zoe that she cared what anyone from her previous life thought. Maybe the resilience she’d gained in the wake of her divorce was proving to be more fragile than she’d hoped.
Had it been a mistake to attend an event where she ran the risk of crossing paths with people from h
er past? Only time would tell. At least she wouldn’t have to face them alone. She’d be on Ryan’s arm and that was a huge confidence booster.
A knock sounded on her front door, jolting her out of her reverie. Mouth dry, palms clammy, she rushed to it, hoping to see Ryan’s eyes light up when he saw her. Swinging the door open, she stared at the man standing before her. His broad shoulders looked even more imposing clad in a flawlessly tailored tuxedo jacket. Instead of the traditional black bow tie, he’d chosen to accent his crisp white shirt with a dark gray tie dotted with white. She loved his unconventional approach to formal wear.
“Wow,” she murmured, leaning against the door while she took him in. “You look great.”
His slow smile sent heat rushing through her. “You look pretty wonderful yourself. Let me get a better look at you.” He captured her hand and spun her slowly. “Gorgeous.”
The approval glowing in his gray eyes unraveled the knot of worry in her chest. If she’d believed herself past the point where she required a man’s praise, she’d been completely wrong. But Ryan was different in that he would have appreciated anything she’d chosen to wear. Not once had he passed judgment on her appearance.
When she’d left Tristan’s house, she’d abandoned most of her formal wardrobe, except this one dress that she’d bought, knowing Tristan would never let her wear it. The mermaid-style gown showed off her toned arms and clung to her lean curves, accentuating her sensuality. In it she felt sophisticated and strong, two things she’d never known during the years she’d been married to Tristan.
“I’m going to be the luckiest guy there tonight with you as my date.”
“And I’m the luckiest girl,” she murmured, for the moment letting herself bask in the glow of his admiration.
For several heartbeats they stood grinning at each other and then Ryan tugged at her hand. “Let’s get going. The sooner we put in an appearance, the quicker I can get you home and out of that dress.”
“And here I thought you liked it,” Zoe teased, pulling the door shut behind her.