Well, she deserved whatever happened to her. She'd been such a fool. Richard was right. For an educated woman, she was so naïve.
A light knock sounded on the door. Candy sprang for it, her heart doing double time. Even if she'd never see him again, she needed to say goodbye. She had to tell him…
"Ms. Nelson. Are you ready to go?"
The cabdriver. Candy swallowed hard. "Of course. Just let me get my things."
She had to pull herself together. She wasn't going to cry in front of this man. She wasn't—
A note. She would leave a note. Not that she'd even expect Brooke to find it, but she had to try. She grabbed her lipstick out of her purse. The bathroom. The cabdriver wouldn't see what she wrote there.
Two minutes later she was ready to go.
Over. It was all over. "Get me out of here," she ordered the driver.
*****
Monday, 24 December, 2001
"Thank you for rescheduling with me," Candy offered with her most professional smile as she rose to leave. "And I apologize again about missing you Friday. The seafood here in Singapore must not have agreed with me."
The client merely smiled as he kissed her hand. "I would not have missed meeting with you for the world, cherié. Thank you once again for your time. Brasden-Marten has quite a treasure in you. If they ever forget that, come to work for me directly. I promise to make it worth your while."
Candy gave him her most brilliant and professional smile. "Thank you, Vince. You are a pleasure to work with."
His assistant showed her to the door. She kept her façade in place until the doorman pushed the cab door gently closed behind her.
It all seemed so unreal.
So useless.
It would almost have been better if they'd arrested her. She wouldn't have had to step back into her life again as if nothing had changed.
Everything had changed.
Back at the Oriental Mandarin, the hotel doorman opened the cab door for her. "Good to see you again, Ms. Nelson."
"Thank you."
The Concierge looked up, smiling as she walked by. "You're looking lovely today, Ms. Nelson."
"Thank you." Candy flashed him her standard professional smile.
She couldn't do this anymore. Couldn't keep smiling and laughing and flirting with clients while she accomplished nothing with her life. Halfway around the world and thousands of dollars and billable hours to get some drunken asshole of a singer a contract that paid him twice what he was worth. No. Twice what his competition would work for. He had no worth. Not to her.
Her work had no value beyond the salary she was paid.
The faces of the women the German had purchased kept flitting through her mind. She had been young and idealistic once. She'd wanted to do something, to help people. She'd settled for Richard and Brasden-Marten. It wasn't enough. It would never be enough. She would never settle again. The moment she got back to New York this was over.
She might never know who Brooke had worked for. Maybe, someday, she would find Brooke. And if she didn't, she would find someone who needed her. Something she could believe in.
Maybe she could help repay some of her debt.
Her key swiped through the lock with a little more force than was necessary. The staff had put the room back in order without a comment of course. She didn't want to know what they thought might have happened to the lamp. Or the cord.
Apparently the people Brooke worked with had managed to pluck the Schumacher brothers away and deposit them safely into custody without attracting any undue attention. There was certainly no sign that they'd ever been in her room.
Or that Brooke had ever been here.
Or that anything in her life had changed.
But it had. Nothing would ever be the same again.
The scent of cinnamon and spice hit her nose. Candy stopped in the doorway, her hand on her purse. Nothing looked out of place. Except the table.
An apple pie sat steaming in the middle of the table, flanked by candles and two plates and two glasses of milk.
Candy swallowed hard. She dropped her purse, scanning the room with her heart in her throat. The bedroom. He'd be in the bedroom.
She stopped in the bedroom doorway, her hand flying to her mouth.
He was wearing the charcoal Armani suit, and for the first time since she'd met him, he was wearing a tie.
Sort of.
There was a wide red ribbon threaded through the shirt collar, tied in a bow in the front. The ends were long, trailing across the white shirtfront.
Her legs were shaking so badly she couldn't move. She put a hand over her mouth, trying to hold back the hysterical sobs that were about to break lose.
He crossed the room, slowly, as always, stopping before her to hold out his hands, palms up. Candy threw herself into his arms.
And then his hands were on her, comforting, stroking, caressing, holding. And his lips were on her, kissing , nuzzling, soothing, arousing.
"I didn't find your message until this morning," he whispered against her ear. "I didn't think you'd want to see me again."
Her hands trembled as she held him. "I've been dying inside without you. I thought you wouldn't want to see me again."
"I've been going crazy without you. I told them if they didn't let me know where they'd taken you I'd leave the organization."
"I'm going to resign from Brasden-Marten. I need to do something. I need to help, Brooke. That isn't really your name, is it? Kelly emailed me back this morning. You don't exist."
"David. David Ellis."
"David." She laughed. "I like that name. Always have."
He kissed her, then, in the way that always made her knees tremble. "We'd make a great team, Candy."
"I'd like that."
"Work, too. But I'm not talking about that."
Candy raised her gaze to study his eyes. They were darker gray now, and stormy with passion. She could feel the heat of him pressing against her. "Neither am I."
"I love you."
She couldn't keep from grinning. "Good. Because I'd hate to be here alone."
"Marry me."
Her heart turned over with a thud that surely should have been audible. "David, I—there are a lot of things you don't know about me."
"No excuses. Marry me." His voice was husky.
"I'm already married, David."
His arms didn't loose their hold on her. "How married are you?"
"We don't live together. Haven't for over a year. We just never got a divorce. He said it was better for the firm's image. I never bothered to argue."
"Do you still love him?"
"No." Something inside her let go with saying it out loud. "And I don't think he ever loved me. And I will file, just as soon as I get back in the States. But it'll take a while. Probably a year or more."
"OK. We don't need to be in a hurry."
No. He never hurried… "There's something else. I'm older than you think I am, David. I'm forty-one."
"So?"
"You might care about that when you're in your forties and you have a sixty year old wife."
"I may not live past my next assignment. You might care about that."
Her arms tightened around him protectively. "If we go, we go together."
"Not if you're alone because you're busy worrying about how old you are."
"You really don't care?"
"You never even asked me how old I am. If you don't care, why should I?"
Candy took a deep breath. "How old are you, David?"
"Thirty-six."
She let that sink in a moment or two. "You're not a grad student."
"No." He sighed. "Part of my cover. I got my doctorate years ago, but people always said I looked younger." His eyes gentled. "I’m so sorry for the lies, Candy. Please believe me. At the time I didn’t know…"
She nodded in understanding. She could have been anyone, done anything to him. He hadn’t known if he could trust her. "Anything else?" she a
sked quietly.
"Yeah."
She sighed. "What?"
"I want to hear you say what you wrote on the mirror."
Her body stilled. She willed herself not to cry. "I love you. No matter what happens, I always will."
A sob shook him. "I didn't think I'd ever hear those words again. I promised myself I'd never care about anyone again, Candy. You've changed all the rules."
"Did you love her? The girl that died?"
It took him a while to answer, and when he did, his voice was barely audible. "She was my wife. She went home to visit her family. She wanted me to go…I didn't."
Candy held him, not knowing what to say. "I'm sorry seems like so little…"
"It's going to be better now. Schumacher's behind bars, and he'll be there a long, long time. And you've given me a reason to care again. I don't want my life back the way it was before, Candy. I want more. So much more. And I want you in the center of it all."
"You've got me," Candy promised. She tilted her face up, offering her lips for a kiss to seal the promise. He didn't disappoint her. "I don't want to wait till tomorrow to open my Christmas present."
He laughed at that, his voice steady again. "You don't have to. In my family we open Christmas presents on Christmas Eve."
Candy smiled as she ran her hands over the broad expanse of his chest, reaching slowly for the crushed red bow.
"Candy?"
"Merry Christmas."
Her eyes glittered with a mixture of happiness and unshed tears. "Merry Christmas, my love."
1 Shiok (Malay -- fantastic or marvelous - a great place)
2 Lah (Singaporean expression -- yes? used at the end of sentences for emphasis)
3 Sotong (Malay -- This doesn't make sense)
4 Terok (Malay --Unsafe)
5 Ulu (Malay -- rural or deserted place)
6 Kayu (Malay -- not very smart)
7 Pai seh (Malay -- this is embarrassing)
8 Pad Thai (Popular dish from Thailand -- rice noodles stir fried with prawns, chicken, bean sprouts, green onions, egg and Pad Thai sauce, topped with ground peanuts.)
9 Chung lai (Vietnamese -- leave me alone)
10 Di di (Vietnamese -- go away)
11 Da khong (Vietnamese -- no)
12 Dung lai (Vietnamese -- stop)
13 Xin loi (Vietnamese -- I'm sorry, forgive me)
14 Pom rak khun (Thai -- I love you)
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Also By Shelby Morgen:
Ellora’s Cave
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All I Want For Christmas Page 8