A Kiss in the Dark

by White, Tiffany

  “I told you it was wicked….”

  “What? What were you saying?” Brittany asked, realizing he’d asked her something.

  “I was wondering if you’d agree to having sex on my desk. Then, whenever I’m sitting there, I could remember us.”

  “Ethan, you have way too much free time.”

  “Tell me about it.”

  She hadn’t meant to hurt his feelings, to bring up his being sightless. “I’ll agree to do it on one condition,” she hurriedly said, trying to make up for her carelessness. “I get to clear it off first. I don’t fancy being stapled or anything.”

  “Be my guest,” Ethan said eagerly.

  Brittany went to his desk and began gathering up the papers and books on top of it. As she was moving the silver water pitcher, a formal invitation caught her eye. She picked it up.

  “What’s this for? Don’t tell me you’re still going to debutante balls,” she said, waving the invitation in the air.

  “Is that the invitation to my class reunion? If it is, just toss it. I’m not going to attend.”

  “Why not?”

  “I think that should be obvious. I have no stomach for going and having my old classmates feel sorry for the blind guy. I don’t want anyone’s pity.”

  “That isn’t how it sounds.”

  “What do you mean?”

  She was probably being way out of line, but someone had to tell him. Dawson more or less ignored him, and his family coddled him.

  “People take their signals on how to treat you from the way you behave. If you hide from the world instead of going out and living your life to the best of your ability, on your own terms, then, yes, people are going to feel sorry for you.”

  “Will you go with me?”

  “If you’d like.”

  “I’d like.”

  She could tell by the way he said it that he would. Maybe that was why the invitation had been lying all by itself on the desk where she couldn’t possibly miss seeing it. He’d wanted to ask her, but had been hesitant for whatever reason a prideful man might have.

  He made his way across the room toward her.

  “I hope the desk is cleared off. If it isn’t, I may do it in one fell swoop,” he said, leaning her back across it.

  And then the game they’d been playing since she’d brought along that book to read, resumed. Ethan picked up and embellished one of her stories, his voice laced with passion.

  “So, young lady, do you understand why you’ve been sent to the dean’s office? Do you understand that I can expel you for your misconduct in class?”

  Brittany became a willing participant in this new twist….

  “But Dean, isn’t there any way I can get back into my classes? Surely there must be some extra project I could do for you as penance. I promise I’ll be really, really good. It could be our little secret. You wouldn’t have to report me that way.”

  “Well, young lady, as it happens, I could use an assistant for, say, a half hour every day….”

  Ethan’s hand began inching up Brittany’s sexy, short black dress.

  “Oh my, Dean. Does this mean I have a chance at a 4.0 grade average?”

  “Well, young lady, we’ll have to see. To get a perfect grade point average, you’ll have to be really, really good.”

  Twenty minutes later, Brittany smiled with delight at the sound of Ethan’s carefree whistle.

  10

  ETHAN STOOD AT THE window in the library.

  He was alone, having sent Dawson out on a morning of errands.

  The library had become Ethan’s safe place almost as soon as he’d moved into the rented brownstone. It was as if he were a bear and the library was his den. How fitting, then, that he should “wake up” from what had been a very long hibernation, in this very room. It had happened suddenly—last night, when he’d been dancing with Brittany.

  It had been when he’d spun them around very quickly.

  Brittany hadn’t noticed anything because he’d tried his best not to let on. At first he almost hadn’t believed it himself when he saw the shadowy images before his eyes. It had been like walking into bright sunlight from a darkened movie theater.

  Brittany hadn’t spent the night because of an early meeting.

  He’d stayed up the rest of the night, afraid that if he went to sleep, he would wake up sightless again. He’d tried watching Letterman before he realized he might be straining his eyes, damaging them.

  The doctors had explained all about the bruised retinas, hemorrhaging, et cetera, but he hadn’t listened. He hadn’t wanted to know what could go wrong.

  He’d had Dawson call for an appointment with the eye specialist, delaying it until tomorrow. He wanted a full night of hope with Brittany first. Hope that his eyesight would indeed return.

  “WOULD YOU LISTEN TO THIS,” Francesca said, munching on a bagel and reading from People magazine at breakfast the following morning.

  “What?” Brittany looked up-expectantly from her bowl of fresh fruit.

  “What’s-her-name is getting a divorce.” Francesca slathered light cream cheese on the rest of her bagel.

  “Who’s What’s-her-name?”

  “You know, Ethan’s ex-fiancée. The one who jilted him.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes, really. There’s a picture and everything.”

  “But I don’t understand. Why is she in People magazine? She’s not a celebrity or anything.”

  “No, but her soon-to-be-ex-husband is marrying one. Some actress on one of the soaps.”

  “Let me see,” Brittany said, reaching for the magazine.

  “You’re right, it is her.” Brittany wrinkled her nose. “And she still looks great.”

  “What are you worried about? You’re the one with her old fiancé.”

  “What if she wants him back?” Brittany said with a sinking feeling.

  “I’m sure he doesn’t want her. They don’t even travel in the same circles anymore. She’s in L.A., Ethan’s in New York.”

  “Yeah, you’re right,” Brittany said, relaxing.

  “So how are things going with you and Ethan, anyway?”

  “Well, he’s asked me to go to his class reunion with him next weekend.”

  “That’s great. It’s your birthday and you’ve got a date with Ethan. You must be thrilled.”

  “I am.” Brittany toyed with her fruit cup. “Unless… You don’t think she’d show up at the reunion, do you?”

  “No. Of course not. Probably not.”

  ‘But what if she does?”

  “Then she does. What are you so worried about? Don’t you have an early meeting today?”

  “Oh gosh, I almost forgot.” Brittany pushed her fruit cup away and stood to collect her things for the office.

  “I’ve got an eleven o’clock flight to the coast today, so don’t wait up,” Francesca said casually as Brittany checked her watch and picked up her briefcase.

  “You got the video!” Brittany screamed, dropping her briefcase and throwing her arms around her sister.

  “I got the video!” Francesca screamed right back, as they jumped up and down hugging each other as if they’d just won a tag-team game of jacks.

  BRITTANY SAT IN HER office with the door closed.

  If her day got any better, she’d faint.

  Her assistant had just quit. It seemed the West Coast agent had offered her a job as an agent trainee and Sandy had decided there was more glitz and glamour in L.A.

  Now, if only Tricia would stay in L.A. and out of the picture where Ethan was concerned…

  She cleared her head and concentrated, editing the final chapters of a mystery by a new author she’d acquired.

  Right before lunch her assistant brought her another piece of good news. The USA Today bestseller list that was published every Thursday listed one of Brittany’s romance authors at number thirty-two.

  T
hat was a coup, as the list reflected cash-register sales of the top fifty hard/soft, fiction/nonfiction books in the entire country.

  After she made a celebratory call to the author and had Sandy send her a bouquet of flowers, Brittany treated herself to lunch at the new Barney’s uptown store. She had a sandwich in the Chelsea Café, then taxied back to her building.

  Back in her office, Brittany sat down to work on her speeches for the upcoming sales conference. It wasn’t to be, however.

  There was one flaw in her perfect day and she couldn’t avoid it any longer. Tricia What’s-her-name was getting a divorce.

  She would have to tell Ethan the truth.

  It was a risk, she knew. A very big risk.

  But she didn’t have a choice. If Tricia showed up at the reunion…!

  WHEN SHE GOT HOME from the office there was a message on her answering machine from Dawson, telling her not to eat dinner.

  Ethan had made plans.

  Oh, great, she thought, kicking off her shoes and tossing down her briefcase. Dawson hadn’t said what the plans were.

  Hours later, as they sat listening to jazz at the Blue Note Club in the Village, Brittany was glad she’d decided to dress up.

  Ethan Moss knew how to give good date.

  Once she’d arrived at his apartment, he’d whisked them off on a fifteen-minute helicopter tour of Manhattan. The weather was perfect and it felt positively decadent to be flying above the rush-hour traffic. She’d never been in a helicopter before and loved the feeling of freedom.

  The helicopter pilot returned them to the limo Ethan had hired for the evening and they were off to the Metropolitan Museum of Art, which stayed open later on Friday evenings.

  There, as they’d walked through a tiny part of the museum, she had described the exhibits to Ethan. He’d linked his arm with hers and allowed her to lead him. The fact that he was letting the world know they were a couple thrilled her.

  Afterward, they’d sat on the mezzanine at a table decorated with little candles and listened to a string quartet. Then, as now, she had rested her head on his shoulder and enjoyed the romance she had been so starved for with the only man who could quench her hunger. She knew she’d had a giddy smile on her face the whole time she’d sat there fiddling with the earrings Ethan had bought her in the museum shop.

  From there, the limo driver had taken them to the next place Ethan had mapped out for their date.

  Like a freshman taking a junior to the prom, he’d gone all out to impress. He’d made reservations for them at Robert De Niro’s Tribeca Grill. She’d loved it.

  The restaurant had been glamorous and noisy, like a big party. They’d shared a bottle of wine over dinner.

  Brittany hoped the wine would help her summon the nerve to do what she had to do. It was time.

  She’d put it off long enough, having allowed herself this one perfect romantic evening with Ethan in case he hated her after she told him what she’d done. In case he never wanted to see her again.

  She wouldn’t be able to blame him, either.

  “I HOPE YOU HAD AS great an evening as I did,” Ethan whispered when he forced his lips from hers. They were back on the library sofa. “Did you enjoy yourself tonight?”

  “Very much,” Brittany assured him.

  “Does this mean you’re going to read me a bedtime story and stay to tuck me in?”

  “As a matter of fact I brought the new issue of People magazine. There was something in it I wanted to read to you.”

  Acting before she could talk herself out of doing what she knew was right, Brittany eased her way out of Ethan’s embrace, and got up from the sofa to retrieve the magazine.

  “I feel I should tell you I haven’t ever felt the need to read People magazine,” he said. “My mother’s daily phone calls keep me up-to-date with more than I want to know about people, especially people I don’t even know.”

  Brittany hadn’t thought of that. Hadn’t thought someone might already have told him about Tricia’s divorce. It was the kind of thing a mother would relay. Particularly Ethan’s very social mother.

  After locating the magazine, Brittany returned to the sofa to sit beside Ethan. “Okay, now stop me if you’ve already heard about this,” she told him, and began hunting up the page.

  She found it and started reading. ‘“Patrick York, the ace reliever for baseball’s California Angels, has announced he is divorcing socialite Tricia Edwards to marry soap star Monica Collins, who plays Jessie on “The Restless Heart.” The ex-Mrs. York is relocating to New York.’”

  Ethan didn’t comment right away. “Mother missed telling me that, somehow,” he said finally.

  “How do you feel about it?” Brittany probed.

  “About what?”

  “Tricia—”

  “I told you I didn’t talk about her,” Ethan said, cutting off the questions she would have asked.

  But she wasn’t to be refused.

  “Why?”

  “Because Tricia taught me about the deceitfulness of a woman. It took me a long time to find a woman I could really trust after her. I didn’t think I ever would until I found you, freckle face.” He pulled her toward him, brushing a kiss on her nose. “You’ve forced me to open my eyes.”

  “Did you ever forgive her for running off with another man on your wedding day?”

  “It’s not the sort of thing a man would ever forgive. Or forget,” he said softly.

  “Ethan?”

  “Hmm…?”

  “Will you listen to something I have to tell you and not say anything until I’ve finished?”

  “What’s this all about?” he asked, picking up the quaver in her voice, her nervousness.

  “Will you promise to just listen and hear me out?”

  “But—”

  “Promise.”

  “Okay. I’m listening.”

  “I remember the first time I saw you. I was fourteen years old. You were playing polo. I think I fell in love with you on sight. I don’t know how to explain it. Some people might say we were together in another life, that that was why you seemed so right. Or just that it was a young girl’s first infatuation.”

  She moved nervously beside him on the sofa and continued, “Whatever, it didn’t go away.

  “I turned into your biggest fan, only you didn’t know it because I was so much younger than you… and I was very shy.

  “I filled scrapbooks with news clippings and photos and anything else I could find on you. Francesca teased me constantly about it, about you. I accepted her teasing because I knew that someday when I was old enough, you and I would be together. I just knew it. I believed it.”

  She took a deep breath to quiet her nerves. “The worst day of my life was when Francesca told me you’d become engaged to Tricia Edwards. I was crushed that you hadn’t waited for me. I know that was totally unreasonable, but I couldn’t help how I felt.”

  She couldn’t look at him as she finally revealed the secret she’d carried all these years. Guilt washed over her as she blurted, “Poor Francesca got the full brunt of my misery. I was a hopeless case. Finally—I think in a desperate attempt to snap me out of it—she flippantly suggested I try to do something to help myself rather than wallow in my own misery.

  “Of course, she’d meant take up tennis or another hobby and fall in love with someone else.

  “I took it to mean find a way to make you see that Tricia wasn’t the right woman for you. To make you change your mind about marrying her.”

  Ethan was very still beside her. She got up from the sofa and began pacing.

  “So I began planning.

  “But I couldn’t think of any way to make you change your mind about Tricia. She was so beautiful.

  “It wasn’t until right before your wedding that I hit upon an idea. I pestered Francesca until she agreed to help me with it.”

  Brittany paused, glancing over at Ethan, but he said nothing. />
  She took a deep breath and continued before her nerve left her.

  “At the time, Francesca was dating a baseball player, and there was this other player on the team, Patrick York, who was considered a real ladies’ man. It was a reputation he took great pleasure in. Francesca used to talk about him because she and her baseball player would often double with Patrick, and he’d have a different girl every time they dated.

  “Since I knew you were having a bachelor party with all your polo buddies the night before your wedding, I had Francesca talk Tricia into having a bachelorette party the same night. Then, using all the money I had saved up, I pestered Francesca until she agreed to wager my thousand dollars with Patrick York that he couldn’t get Tricia Edwards to fly to Las Vegas with him the night before her wedding.”

  There was still nothing; no response of any kind from Ethan.

  Brittany gave a nervous little laugh.

  “Well, of course, it was an offer his ego couldn’t refuse.

  “And you know the rest.”

  Her voice took on a pleading tone. “But I couldn’t have known that she would marry Patrick York in Las Vegas that night and you’d wake up on your wedding day to find the announcement in the headlines.”

  A tear rolled down her cheek. “I’m sorry, Ethan. I’m so sorry.” Her voice quavered. “I know what I did was wrong, but I never meant to hurt you. I just loved you so much….”

  Brittany didn’t know what to expect—what Ethan’s reaction would be when she told him the truth about her part in Tricia’s deceit.

  For the longest time he didn’t react at all. He just sat there. The room was as silent as a crypt.

  When he finally spoke, his voice was cold and emotionless. “I’d like you to leave now. I’ll have Dawson mail you your check. Leave the key on the hall table.”

  “But—”

  “Just go.”

  His words were final.

  “Ethan, please don’t hate me. I couldn’t bear it if you hated me,” she pleaded.

  But he wouldn’t answer her.

  ETHAN HEARD THE DOOR close as Brittany let herself out. He picked up the People magazine she’d left on the sofa and threw it across the room with an oath.