Toronto Collection Volume 1 (Toronto Series #1-5)

by Heather Wardell

  I pushed my chair back away from the computer as if it were trying to bite me. The first week?

  TheHammer: A bunch of us were talking, and the subject of families came up. Someone asked about my parents and I told about the accident. Jessica said if she'd been me, she'd have blamed you for it.

  How lovely of her. Another message appeared almost immediately.

  TheHammer: Everyone else was horrified, but she said she'd have known it wasn't your fault but it would be natural to feel angry and upset. I stood up and said I'd never felt that way and took off. She came out after me and...

  NinjaCatRocks: And WHAT??? You keep trailing off at the end. What did you do?

  TheHammer: I really don't want to tell you.

  NinjaCatRocks: Did you sleep with her?

  It was the longest pause yet. I sat, staring at the screen, barely breathing. What would I do if he said he had? I'd thought I'd been jealous when Kegan had talked about other women, but I hadn't felt anything like this, like I was being ripped into bleeding shards.

  At last, his message appeared. I couldn't bring myself to read it right away, but eventually my need to know overwhelmed my terror.

  TheHammer: No. I promise you, no. We went out where there was nobody around and we were arguing about it and then I admitted that I had felt that way and I hated myself for it, and she hugged me and said I shouldn't, and then somehow we were kissing.

  Somehow.

  A rage like nothing I'd felt before was rising in me. I wanted to kill this Jessica with my bare hands and then do some serious damage to Ian too. Not even a week in, and he was throwing himself on some girl. Even though I didn't know what she looked like, I could see him wrapped around her, his hands on her, his mouth...

  NinjaCatRocks: And then what?

  TheHammer: It went on for a while, I guess. After, she just hugged me again and went inside and I sat outside thinking for ages. We talked the next day, like I said, and we're friends now.

  Friends with benefits?

  I thought back to the first phone call, which would have been after this little incident, and realized something.

  NinjaCatRocks: She was there, wasn't she, the first time you phoned me?

  A long pause, and then...

  TheHammer: Yeah. Made me feel weird. After I got off the phone, she took me outside again and said if I couldn't tell you I loved you, maybe I didn't. I told her I did, and as I said it I realized how much I did. Do. She didn't believe me and tried to kiss me again, but I wouldn't. Not when I know for sure how much I want to be with you.

  My fury spilled over and I couldn't hold back.

  NinjaCatRocks: Well, gee, honey, thanks so much for thinking of me. Sorry you didn't get even more fun.

  TheHammer: Um, hello, I'm not the only one. Nice job on picking back up where you left off with Kegan. Have you been dreaming about him the whole time we've been married?

  NinjaCatRocks: Maybe I should have been. At least he never cheated on me. Mom always preferred him, maybe she was

  I snapped my fingers off the keyboard and balled my hands into fists, pressing them to my mouth. Reaching out again, I carefully deleted the entire message before I could accidentally send it. This wasn't remotely productive. Yelling at each other wasn't going to solve anything.

  NinjaCatRocks: I never wanted to see him again. When he showed up at work, I was stunned. I swear, I haven't talked to him once while we were together until now. Ian, I love you.

  I waited, my hands trembling.

  TheHammer: Candice, I love you.

  The tears welled up in my eyes again and I reached for the keyboard, but he wrote again right away.

  TheHammer: What are we going to do?

  NinjaCatRocks: I don't know. Do you still want to be with me?

  TheHammer: ABSOLUTELY. Do you?

  NinjaCatRocks: ABSOLUTELY. Do you think it'll work?

  TheHammer: I hope so.

  NinjaCatRocks: How did this HAPPEN?

  TheHammer: I don't know. I guess we've had a rough year.

  NinjaCatRocks: That's the reason??

  TheHammer: No, but... I swear I didn't feel like this at home, but now... don't you feel a bit like we do the same thing day in and day out? There's not a lot of variety.

  NinjaCatRocks: Variety? Like, handcuffs and stuff?

  TheHammer: Wow, dirty girl! Where did that come from? No, I totally didn't mean that. (although... :)

  My rage flashed again at his response. I hadn't been trying to be dirty, I really hadn't understood what he was suggesting. Did he have to make a joke right now?

  I took a deep breath. At least he was joking about me, not about her. I decided to ignore his comment and move on.

  NinjaCatRocks: *blush* Okay, tell me quick now that I feel like an idiot.

  TheHammer: We go to the same restaurants, eat the same food, watch the same TV shows, watch way too much TV... we don't do anything exciting. Jessica, well, she's new. I don't know what she does when she's not here, and that's kind of exciting. You know?

  I thought of Kegan and his jazz CDs and scuba diving lessons. I wondered what Ian would think of my tattoo.

  NinjaCatRocks: I do know. But how do we fix that?

  TheHammer: I don't know. I guess just make sure we don't fall back into the same old rut when I get home?

  But would that be enough?

  NinjaCatRocks: I guess. Do you WANT to come home?

  TheHammer: Definitely. I've really missed you. I know this is horrible, but it really didn't mean anything to me. It just happened.

  NinjaCatRocks: I guess I can see that. I know I don't have the right to be upset, but I still am, somehow.

  TheHammer: Of course you do. I was so mad when I read your email I punched a hole in the wall. (I still have to fix that before I leave.) Do you want me to come home?

  He punched a hole in a wall? Because of me?

  NinjaCatRocks: I do. Do you think we'll be okay?

  TheHammer: God, I hope so.

  I stared at the message. He sounded about as confident as I felt.

  NinjaCatRocks: Me too.

  TheHammer: Don't tell your mother, okay?

  NinjaCatRocks: Did you sunburn your BRAIN? Of course I won't.

  TheHammer: I should get going. I need to take a shower before work.

  So he'd be nice and clean for Jessica. The anger filled me again, but just for a second. This was how it was going to be. I had to trust him.

  TheHammer: Were you thinking it was so I'd look good for Jessica?

  NinjaCatRocks: Um, kinda.

  TheHammer: We're meeting with some charity officials today to show them around.

  NinjaCatRocks: Oh.

  TheHammer: We have to trust each other, or this is never going to work. Like, see how I'm not asking if you're seeing Kegan? (Of course, if you want to tell me, go ahead.)

  NinjaCatRocks: I asked Lou to do the rest of the meetings. Talk about awkward - I had to tell him why - but he's going to do it. So no, I won't.

  TheHammer: What if he wants to?

  NinjaCatRocks: He knows it's not going to happen. I don't think he will. And even if he does, _I_ won't.

  TheHammer: I hate that he knew about the cancer stuff and I didn't. I should have been there for you.

  Yes, he should have been. And...

  NinjaCatRocks: I should have LET you be there. I wished I had, a million times. I'm so sorry. Do you think we can get through this? Really?

  Another long pause.

  TheHammer: All I know is, I love you. I hope it's enough.

  NinjaCatRocks: Me too. And I love you too.

  TheHammer: I really do have to go, Candice. I'll email later. I love you.

  And he was gone.

  I shut down the computer and curled up on the couch, staring into space. Ninja climbed up beside me and started to purr, and I stroked him with one hand, hardly noticing what I was doing.

  Four days. I'd been doing everything I could to stay professional with Kegan, and playin
g with the yarn Ian'd left, and thinking about Ian, and four days after he left he was kissing another woman. I felt sick.

  I knew it was hypocritical, but I couldn't help it. I'd done the same thing, but somehow it just seemed to be worse the way he'd done it. All those emails, and never a hint that anything had happened.

  Was there more that he hadn't told me? Why had he needed her to make everything clear to him? How far had it really gone? What were those kisses like? What did she look like? I wanted to know even though he'd said I didn't. Was she a better kisser than me? Would he be dreaming of her when he slept in our bed, thinking of her when we...

  For that matter, would I be dreaming of Kegan?

  I pulled Ninja onto my lap as the tears started to fall, wrapped my arms around his soft warm body and cried for a long time. By the end, I was lying on my side with Ninja tucked up against me. We fell asleep that way.

  Friday, August 26th

  I woke up stiff and sore from being crunched into the back of the couch by my space-stealing cat, my eyes sticky and tired. Not a great start to the day. I dragged myself upstairs to take a shower and then decided I'd do something even better.

  I put on my gym clothes and headed out for a workout.

  I hadn't used the weight machines at the gym since I'd backed off on the daily visits, but I put myself through two rounds of the circuit. Pushing and pulling the weights was strangely cathartic, even though a couple of little old ladies were following right behind me, increasing the weight before they used the machine I'd just vacated.

  After the circuits, I climbed onto the elliptical machine and pounded out a solid twenty minutes, then walked on the treadmill for another twenty. I even broke into a jog a few times for a minute or so each time.

  Finished, I felt much better. I'd managed not to think about the whole mess during my workout and my brain had cleared. My body was pleasantly tired now, instead of the sickening exhaustion I'd felt when I first woke up, and surviving the day began to seem like a possibility.

  In the shower, I remembered it was my mother's birthday, but put it out of my head again. I would call her after work. I couldn't face it now.

  As I walked from the subway station, I sent a message to Larissa to see if she might be able to have dinner with me. I didn't tell her why; there was no way I was explaining what Ian had done in a text message.

  She called me back a minute later.

  "Yeah, dinner sounds good. What's up?"

  "Nothing. I'll tell you tonight."

  Silence, then, "You didn't see Kegan, did you?"

  "No. I told Ian."

  "You told-- oh. How'd he take it?"

  I sighed. "What time do you want to meet?"

  "Ah. Seven?"

  *****

  Lou'd been strange all day, distant and quiet, and we were wondering what was going on. He'd been in and out of Richard's office, and didn't seem to want to talk to anyone.

  We held furtive little conferences when we passed in the hall, and the rumors grew over the course of the day, as rumors do.

  "I heard he quit."

  "But then wouldn't he be thrilled instead of all weird?"

  "Maybe he is thrilled, but he's trying to hide it."

  "Maybe Richard fired him?"

  "But he'd be gone already, wouldn't he?"

  "Maybe he's sick."

  But the rumor that really took hold was the idea that he was having some kind of embarrassing surgery soon and was feeling nervous about it. The staff tossed around a great many ideas, most far too revolting to repeat, and finally decided he was probably having his 'throbbing manhood' enlarged.

  This led to a heated debate, frequently cut off as Lou walked through the office (although 'cut off' might not be the best choice of words in this context) about whether length or width was more important. As always, the few men in the office sided with length and the women were all about the width.

  I would ordinarily have been an active participant in this discussion but working was distracting me from imagining Ian and Jessica, so I kept my head down and worked hard, unlike Allyson who spent the entire day trying to get the guys to explain what good length would do anyone. For the record, 'bragging rights' was the only answer.

  Since I had managed to accomplish a few things, I was surprised when Lou called me into his office at just a few minutes before five. Surely I didn't deserve a lecture.

  He closed his office door behind me and waved me to a chair. I sat down, he settled himself behind his huge desk as I wondered whether executives have big desks to compensate for lack south of the belt, and we sat in silence for a moment.

  I was just starting to wonder whether I had accidentally asked for a meeting when he spoke. "Tell me, how do you think you did on Kegan's restaurant?"

  I blinked. "Very well. I put in the extra time to search all three government databases instead of just the usual one, I contacted the past site owner to see if he had any suggestions about dealing with the loud neighbors, and I had the research done a day early. I think he was happy with how our meetings went." A blush rose at the thought of our later meetings, but I carried on through it. "Why?"

  Lou leaned back in his chair and eyed me thoughtfully. "What are your career goals, Candice?"

  Not sure where he was going, I said, "I like working for you, and I think I'm doing a good job, but I do think about becoming a designer myself. At the same time, I think I make a good assistant. So I really don't have my goals nailed down."

  He nodded. "We should get them nailed down."

  We?

  "I think you're a great assistant, but I also think you could do a lot more. Your work with Kegan really was excellent, especially considering... well, considering the personal issues. I was impressed before, but..."

  Lou pushed a sheet of paper across the desk toward me, saying, "Kegan faxed this to me today." I picked it up and skimmed through it, my eyes widening as I read. By the end, I was fighting to keep a grin from my face and tears from my eyes at the same time.

  "You can keep that," he said as I tried to hand back the paper. "I made a copy. Several, actually. One's in your file and I gave one to Richard."

  I stared at him, speechless.

  "Richard insists that you not be held back any longer," Lou said. "I didn't think I was holding you back--"

  "You weren't," I jumped in.

  He smiled and went on. "At any rate, you can't be a full designer right now since you're not certified. However, Richard wants me to have you do all the designs for the next restaurant. I'll sign off on them, and give you whatever help you need, but we want to see what you can do. If it all works out, Richard is willing to help with the cost of getting you trained."

  Was this what I wanted? I paused for a split second to look inside myself, and the warm glow told me it was. "Thank you, Lou. I promise I'll do a great job."

  He grinned. "You always do. Let's just hope the client's not an ex-husband or something."

  I laughed. "You're safe on that score." Then a thought struck me. "Lou, if Kegan hadn't written that letter, would you and Richard still have done this?"

  "Probably not today," he said. "Kegan's endorsement got Richard stirred up. But yes, it would have happened. Richard and I review staff in December or January, and I would have suggested it then."

  I smiled. I didn't want it to be just because of Kegan.

  Lou smiled back. "Good enough," he said, standing and holding out his hand for me to shake. "Well, my new assistant designer, shall we go announce your promotion?"

  Oh, yes, please.

  *****

  Ordinarily after a promotion is announced, the newly promoted one takes everyone out for drinks. I promised to do it on Monday; I had to talk to Larissa, now more than ever.

  Once we were settled at a table, she said, "Okay, so how'd it go?"

  "I have other news."

  She shook her head. "Tell me about Ian first."

  "No, I want to tell you about my promotion first."


  Her eyes lit up. "Congrats! Promotion to what?"

  "Assistant designer. I design the next restaurant, and Lou watches what I do. If I do it right, they'll actually get me trained. Well, help pay for it, but still. And then I have a career!"

  We grinned at each other, and she said, "What made them decide to do it right now? Not that you don't deserve it, but..."

  I pulled the paper Lou had given me from my purse and passed it to her. She read it in silence, her brow furrowing as she went. When she reached the bottom, her eyes flicked immediately back to the top of the page. After the second read, she handed it to me. "Did you ask him to do that?"

  "Oh, yeah, right. 'Kegan, I'm staying with my husband. Could you write me a nice letter of recommendation?'"

  "That's not a nice letter. 'She did a good job' is a nice letter. Saying he's never worked with someone as dedicated as you are? All the stuff about your eye for color and artwork?" She took the letter out of my hand. "Not to mention, 'I am confident that Steel will be a success in large part due to the excellent work of Candice Warburton'."

  She dropped the letter on the table and shook her head. "I would never have expected him to do something like this. There's nothing for him to gain."

  "I think that's why he did it," I said. She looked at me, and I blinked several times to hold back the tears. "He said he'd do anything to help me with my career. I guess he thought this would be a good way."

  Larissa propped her elbow on the table and rested her chin in her hand, her fingers over her mouth. "I don't know what to say. I really didn't believe he was sincere, but... God, you think you know somebody, what they're like, and then he goes and does something like this."

  I squeezed my eyes shut. She could be talking about Ian.

  "What else did he do?"

  "Not him. Ian."

  I opened my eyes as our waitress arrived with our drinks. Larissa thanked her quickly and turned her attention back to me.

  "Was he mad when you told him?"

  Should I tell her? Was it better for me to keep it all to myself, not let her know what Ian had done? I took a sip of my drink to give myself a little time to think. I'd planned to tell her but now I wasn't so sure.

  I looked at her, at her concerned face, and decided to tell her. I wouldn't tell anyone else, but it would be good to have someone else know. I wouldn't have to carry it all by myself.