You Made Me Love You

by Neesa Hart

  “Whatever happened the night of the accident, it was incredibly traumatic to her. There are lots of reasons why she can’t talk about it. And of course it’s going to be a barrier between the two of you. You’re the last real link she has to her mother. Her grandparents want her to replace Mara, and Grace knows she can’t do that.”

  He swore, low and violently. “That’s just what I mean, Liza. You shouldn’t have to tell me things like that about my own daughter.”

  “You aren’t being fair,” she insisted. “If I had a medical problem, I couldn’t possibly diagnose it without help. I’d need someone with the experience and knowledge to tell me what to do, what to look for. No one expects you to solve all the problems of the world.”

  He flinched. “Some people do.”

  “Then they’re idiots.” Frustrated, she drummed her fingers on his chest. “When you decided to bring Grace here, you trusted your instincts. You have those instincts because you love her, because you’re her father. And it was the right choice. You knew her well enough to make that decision, trust yourself to know her well enough to be there when the time comes.”

  “I’ll fail her,” he said.

  “No, you won’t.”

  He shook his head and she sensed the war raging in his soul. “Liza, you don’t know. You don’t—”

  She kissed him softly to end the argument. “I know that I have seen thousands of children come through these doors. They’ve had every kind of problem and family crisis you can imagine. And I’ve never seen one who had the kind of devotion from her parents that Grace has from you.”

  “I’ve got to go to New York again,” he told her. “I can’t trust this to anyone. The stakes are too high.”

  “I know.” Liza recognized the slightly desperate look in his eyes as the same one she’d had when she’d contemplated taking him to see Joshua’s grave. “When are you leaving?”

  “As soon as possible.”

  “Are you taking Grace with you?”

  “Lord, no. I don’t want her anywhere near this.”

  “Would you like me to stay with her?”

  He nodded. “I’d feel better about that than anything else. Do you mind?”

  “No.”

  “Is this going to cause problems? With my classes I mean.”

  She shrugged. “We’ll take care of it. Breeland has a long history of taking care of our people.”

  His expression turned bitter. “Until today?”

  She knew he referred to the confrontation in Anna’s office. She scoffed. “Oh, that. Don’t even worry about it. Rose is prone to, er, fits of temper.”

  “What about Bill?”

  “He’ll come around.”

  “You’re sure?”

  She wasn’t, but didn’t say so. He needed a clear head, not one filled with worry about the situation he was leaving behind. “I’m sure.”

  His eyes drifted shut. “What am I going to do, Liza?”

  She smoothed her hands over his face, remembering how lacerated her emotions had seemed that night in New York. Then, she’d needed the respite he could give her—the simple, life-affirming act of being with a person who cared for her. Just as he needed it now. She could give him this, and she would, gladly.

  She raised up on her tiptoes to kiss him fully on the mouth. His response was longer than usual in coming, but he finally groaned deep in his chest and crushed her to him. “Liza—”

  “I know,” she told him again. “It’s all right.”

  He devoured her. His hands moved over her, seeking, demanding, asking for things she’d never given before. Seconds later, she found herself seated on the cold slate work desk and threw her head back to surrender to the sensual storm, guiding him with her to a place of sweet abandon.

  When he called her name at the end, and held her so closely that they shared one heartbeat, she admitted to herself what she’d been denying for days: he had stolen her heart—and she could never have it back.

  16

  Eli left two days later. Liza had chosen to move some of her things to his apartment so she and Grace could stay there. Grace seemed tense, but not overly concerned. As the week wore on, Eli called to speak to them at least once a day, and though he always asked, she deliberately didn’t tell him how things were developing on campus. The petty in-fighting on the board, and the increasing speculation among the faculty seemed ridiculously unimportant next to his own mounting problems.

  Thus far, he assured Liza, he’d managed to prevent Doris from getting a court order for paternity testing, but he sounded wearier each time she talked to him. By week’s end, she noted, he changed his pattern. He’d speak to Grace first, ask about her classes, assure her everything was fine, then talk to Liza—as if he couldn’t make himself maintain the positive tone he used with his daughter for more than a few minutes.

  By the following Monday, Liza was a mass of nerves. She looked at Anna in the early morning light as they shared their morning routine. “Did you speak to him last night?” Anna asked.

  “Yes. He sounds terrible.”

  “He must be exhausted.”

  Liza gave her a worried look. “‘Good Morning America’ is carrying a piece on Paschell’s case this morning.”

  “Eli’s talking to them?”

  She shook her head. “They’re interviewing Doris and Leonard.”

  “Oh, dear.”

  “I know. Eli’s furious. He sounds really weary when he calls.”

  “It’s got to be taking a toll,” Anna said.

  Liza studied the gray circles under her friend’s eyes. Anna looked older, slightly strained. “Speaking of that”— she lifted her eyebrows—“how is the board taking this.”

  Anna’s expression altered. Liza saw the determination in her faded blue eyes. “I can handle the board.”

  “Which means they’re not taking it well?”

  The older woman shrugged. “You know Rose. She’s like a dog with a bone.” She managed a slight smile. “One of those annoying little yipping dogs with a bone.”

  That made Liza laugh. “I’ve never envied you the task of dealing with that woman. She makes me crazy.”

  “You, and just about everyone else.”

  They sipped their coffee in silence for long seconds. Liza finally broached the subject she’d been avoiding. “How is Bill?”

  Disappointment, and something else, flickered in Anna’s gaze. “He’s fine. Why?”

  “He seemed, uh, agitated, that day in your office.”

  “He’s under a lot of pressure. Leonard Paschell is offering us three million dollars.”

  “It’s not like Bill to—”

  “I know,” Anna said coldly.

  Liza worried her lower lip with her teeth. She’d suspected, for years, that Anna and Bill had a deep affection that went beyond the bounds of friendship and professional respect. Anna had never brought it up, so she’d respected her friend’s privacy and never asked. Still, she sensed that Bill’s apparent betrayal was hurting her deeply. “Anna,” she said carefully, “if I can—”

  Anna shook her head. “Don’t worry about it, Liza. I’ve got everything under control.”

  Like always, Liza mused. “May I come to the next meeting, at least?”

  “I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”

  “I’d like to be there. You should have someone who’s on your side.”

  Anna thought it over. “It’s not going to be pleasant. I’ve protected you as much as I can.”

  “Anna,” Liza leaned forward in her chair, “you’ve been protecting me for most of my life. I’m all grown up now. I can look after myself.”

  “I don’t think you understand—”

  “Sure, I do. Rose is casting aspersions on my character because I’m sleeping with Eli Liontakis. Someone needs to tell her that if she concentrated more on Breeland’s students and less on other people’s business, she’d be a lot easier to get along with.”

  “We have a very traditional
environment here. You know that.”

  Liza frowned. “What are you trying to tell me?”

  “All I’m saying is that with the scrutiny the summer program gets because of our work with government sponsored institutions, we’re not as autonomous as we’d like to be.”

  “Anna—”

  “Don’t get me wrong. I’m not telling you that I don’t think you and Eli had every right to get—involved.”

  “But—”

  “But there are several members of the board who feel that the two of you could have exercised more discretion.”

  “More discretion?” She fought a bubble of outrage. “Are you serious? We’ve hardly been together since we got back from New York. We’ve never even indicated that we were having a relationship in front of the students, or the faculty, to my knowledge.”

  “Faculty meetings—” Anna began.

  “Oh, these people need to grow up.”

  “I’d agree with you there.”

  Liza took a calming breath. “I thought that the issue here was the publicity surrounding the Paschells’ custody case and the possible reflection it might have on Breeland.”

  “It is—” She sounded unsure.

  “But it’s really about the fact that he’s having sex with me?”

  Anna gave her a shrewd look. “Is that all it is?”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “It’s not like you to be crass. I realize I’m a generation or two ahead of you, but I’ve never heard you refer to your personal relationships like this.”

  Liza drew a shaky breath. “I’m sorry. I’m seriously irritated this morning.”

  Anna pursed her lips and studied her across the desk. “Are you serious about him?”

  “Define ‘serious,’” Liza hedged.

  “I mean, would you consider marrying him?”

  “Who said anything about marriage?” She fought the urge to squirm. Anna knew her too well, and had never allowed her to hide behind a facade—no matter how carefully planned.

  “It’s been a while—unless I miss my guess, a long while, since you were intimately involved with someone. I just wondered what you were expecting from this relationship.”

  “I’m not expecting anything.”

  “So, what are you putting into it?”

  “Anna, I don’t think—”

  She held up a hand. “Listen to me. You’re in a twist because you think the board is judging you, and him, unfairly. But ask yourself this: if you’re not serious about him, and he’s not serious about you, then aren’t the two of you involved in a casual fling with no meaning and no strings attached?”

  Liza winced. “I wouldn’t say that exactly.” How could she explain that she felt her survival was contingent on thinking of Eli in the here and now? If she thought of a future with him, the stakes would go too high.

  “But you wouldn’t say that the two of you have a commitment, either?”

  “We haven’t discussed it.”

  “What do you think Eli expects?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Really?” Sarcasm laced her tone.

  “Don’t look at me like that,” Liza protested. “I’m serious. We’ve never discussed the future. As far as I know, he’s content to enjoy what we have, then move on.” At Anna’s frown, she continued. “What else can there be? At the end of the summer, he’s going back to his life, and I’m going back to mine.”

  “And you intend to tell him that all this meant nothing more than a pleasurable interlude in your life?”

  “That’s not fair. It isn’t that simple.”

  “But you’re not willing to sacrifice to keep it?”

  Liza swallowed. “Hell, I don’t know. I’m not sure he is either. Why should I be the one to make all the changes?” She met Anna’s gaze with cool determination. “I did that once before, if you’ll recall, and it didn’t work out so well.”

  Anna shook her head. “You don’t have to pay for that for the rest of your life, you know?”

  “You sound like Rachel.”

  Anna didn’t respond. Instead, she spread her hands on the desk and leaned forward so Liza felt pinned by the searching look in her eyes. “Tell me this, then, if you’re not taking your relationship with him seriously, why should the board?”

  “Excuse me?”

  “If it’s nothing more than a summer fling with him, why do you expect the board of visitors to view it as anything else?”

  “It’s none of their business what it is.”

  “Isn’t it? You’re smart enough to know that the publicity surrounding Dally’s claims could damage Eli’s reputation. If that happens, it could reflect on Breeland.”

  “He didn’t do anything wrong,” Liza said through gritted teeth.

  “So he says.”

  “And I believe him. You should believe him.”

  “I do. That’s not the point. The thing is, there are several members of the board who feel that, maybe, you’ve got clouded judgment.”

  “Because I don’t think we should just fire him without substantive justification? If we fired every faculty member who’d ever had a scandal in their life, we’d never keep anyone.”

  “Liza, try to understand. Most of the members of the board have known you since you were a student here. They have trouble thinking of you as an independently-minded adult. To them, you’re still that kid who came here with no direction and no hope.”

  “Despite the fact,” she said bitterly, “that I’ve been married, had a baby, and buried that baby?”

  “Which some of them don’t even know.”

  “I can’t believe this,” Liza muttered.

  “It’s sticky,” Anna said gravely, “and Rose and a couple of board members are making it stickier. I just want you to be aware of that.”

  “I am.”

  “You know how much resistance there was to bringing Eli here. The people who lost that battle are now feeling vindicated.”

  Liza muttered a curse. “One of the things I like about this place is the way we take care of each other. Eli needs all the friends he can get right now. What right do we have to turn our backs on him?”

  “They don’t feel the same loyalty you do,” Anna pointed out. “And like I told you, your situation is a little different. You might find it difficult to be objective.”

  Feeling outraged and uncomfortable, Liza gripped the arms of her chair. “I thought you were on his side.”

  “I am.” Anna held out her hands. “I am. But I’m also trying to understand why Rose is so determined.”

  “Because she’s a meddlesome old hag.”

  A smile tickled Anna’s lips. “Who happens to love this school just as much as you and I do. All I’m saying is that it wouldn’t hurt you to be a little sensitive to the delicacy of the situation. If you want to come to the meeting, then do. They’re open to the faculty. I couldn’t stop you even if I wanted to.”

  “Do you want me to come?”

  “I want you to think very carefully about how you might respond if someone verbally attacks you or Eli.”

  “May I throw Rose out the window.”

  Anna smiled. “You may not.”

  “Damn.”

  Anna’s tinkling laugh filled the room. “He’s rubbing off on you, you know. Before he got here, I had you trained down to ‘crumb’ as an expletive.” Her expression sobered. “Just promise me that you’ll consider what I said.”

  “Which part?”

  “You know which part.”

  She did, of course—the part about what she expected from her relationship with Eli. The part that had kept her up nights wondering if she’d lost her mind. The part that told her it was way too late to protect herself, because he already owned her heart. The part that said soon, too soon, she was going to have to make tough choices, and she was too much of a coward to make them.

  When Liza didn’t respond, Anna folded her hands on the desk top. “It’s going to be all right,” sh
e said softly.

  Liza met her gaze. “Are you sure?”

  “Yes. No matter what happens, as long as Eli stays focused on maintaining custody of Grace, the rest will take care of itself.”

  “I know.”

  “Does he know?”

  “Yes,” Liza said softly, “he does.”

  “Then that’s all that matters.”

  “I’m still coming to the meeting.”

  Anna gave her an amused look. “I’ll look forward to it.”

  “I’m sure you will.”

  Picking up the stack of reports on her desk, the older woman determinedly set her coffee aside. “Now, let’s get to this. We’ve wasted enough time for one morning.”

  Liza walked into Eli’s apartment late that afternoon to find Grace, huddled on the sofa clutching a stuffed elephant. Tears ran down the child’s face as she sobbed uncontrollably into the blue fur.

  Alarmed, Liza dropped her bag and rushed forward. “Honey. Grace, what’s wrong?” Grace was supposed to be rehearsing her tap routine with Lindsay this afternoon, not home alone in obvious misery.

  Grace didn’t respond. Liza stroked her shoulders. “Did something happen. Where’s Lindsay.”

  Sniffling, Grace wriggled until she produced a crumpled piece of paper from beneath her and thrust it at Liza. “I didn’t go to rehearsal. I got that in my mailbox.”

  Frowning, Liza smoothed the paper open. Every student at Breeland had a personal mailbox for inter campus mail and personal mail from family and friends. Grace had evidently been assigned a box despite her unusual living arrangements. Liza’s frown deepened when she saw Doris Paschell’s spidery signature at the bottom.

  Quickly, Liza scanned the letter, fighting a surge of anger. Doris took great pains to assure Grace that although Eli’s legal troubles were mounting, and that things didn’t look good for him, that she’d always have a place to go where someone loved her. Doris and Leonard, her grandmother wrote, would welcome her no matter what horrors might befall her father. Smothering a dark curse, Liza thrust the paper aside and pulled Grace into her arms. “It’s all right, sweetie.”