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

by Heather Wardell

  And I'd thought I'd been the first since Marika. Wrong, but I felt sure I'd been the only one with whom he'd made love. With the others, he'd have kept himself distant. It would have been nothing more than release, somewhere to hide from his pain, a moment of oblivion. I knew he'd have hated himself for using those women like that, and pity twisted my stomach. Oh, Forrest.

  "But he didn't take his shirt off?" I hoped I sounded faintly amused, hoped my anguish didn't sneak though. "Wouldn't that be awkward?"

  Magnus shrugged. "His first day with us, he told us he wouldn't discuss the scar. We all knew about the accident so we wouldn't have bugged him, but he made it pretty damn clear he wouldn't talk. He probably acted the same with those women, and they'd have wanted to sleep with him enough that they wouldn't have cared what he wore. I'm actually surprised he showed you, but I guess he needed to for massages, right?"

  "Right," I echoed. For massages.

  I left the club after our dance, claiming exhaustion. Magnus offered to take me home, but I insisted he stay and have fun. He hugged me, and to my surprise so did all the other players.

  Several asked while hugging me whether Filmore had offered me a permanent contract yet. Not wanting to explain my art career in a noisy club, I simply said no, and they all tried to comfort me by insisting Filmore always waited until the last possible second. They'd have been more convincing if they hadn't seemed disappointed and worried themselves even as they told me not to worry.

  I wouldn't. I had enough to worry me already.

  Chapter Thirty

  Too upset to sleep when I got home, I finished the tenth and final miniature for the show. I packed it up along with the other two for Jayne, wishing I cared about them, and sat studying the ones I adored until I was finally tired enough for bed.

  I woke the next morning buzzing with a powerful awareness of how short and fragile life could be. Nobody would hurt me by cutting my goggle strap or anything like that, but I could still die at any time. I needed to get out there and live while I could.

  Forrest wasn't living. The promise he should never have made kept him tied to his past, to Marika and his guilt. Until he managed to let go and move on he'd never be able to enjoy his life.

  Jen hadn't been living, but she was beginning to. She and Don were good friends now, clearly heading for more, and her bathroom was looking amazing, but Don wasn't the cause of her renewed zest for life. The true cause was her willingness to step up and try again even after how badly her ex, the contractors, and even Kegan had hurt her. I admired her for that, more than I could ever tell her.

  Pam wasn't living. She was subsisting, drowning everything she thought and felt in alcohol. The library miniature I'd made showed her life as it was and could be again. Would she like it? I'd never know if I kept it with me.

  Driven by my new urgency, I prepared the piece for mailing. I considered including a note, but the piece itself said it all. She might hate it, might destroy it, but I had to try.

  A thought struck me. I was taking this risk, but what about the even bigger one I was avoiding? Keeping all the pieces that mattered to me was just another way of hiding from life. Mango had told me not to make them, but I'd had to. Now that they existed, someone might buy them and love them. They might change someone's life.

  Ignoring the nervousness sweeping through me, I packed them up. The glowing heart. The court of love. The starfish lemmings, back to Jayne for another try. I hesitated over the one I'd made after the swim meet, but hardened myself and included it. Time to give my art everything I had. Everything in my heart and soul. Jayne might not want to sell them, but at least I'd know I hadn't held anything back.

  I took the pieces with me to the arena. Forrest, without telling me, had skipped the morning's optional practice, but Magnus begged me to show him my art, which I did after his massage.

  "They're awesome, Tess. Can I buy them all?"

  I laughed. "Come to the show on Friday night and you can."

  "I wish I could, but I have a birthday party to go to. I'll be thinking of you, though."

  His intensity embarrassed me, and I gave him a quick smile before fleeing.

  When Jayne's gallery opened at ten, I was there. To my surprise, she hugged me hard.

  "I'm so glad you spotted that tape," she said, holding me at arm's length. "I watch the games from home because I get too nervous at the arena, and when they all went back into the dressing room I knew something was wrong. From the way Forrest played it was obvious he was upset, so I called him last night. He tried to pretend it was nothing but I eventually got the truth out of him. Thank you, Tess. Who knows how horribly he'd have been hurt without you?"

  He'd been horribly hurt with me, but at least not physically. "I'm glad too," I said, touched by the love for Forrest I saw in her eyes. I knew they talked on the phone regularly, and had occasional meals out, but she'd never shown me this side of her before.

  She gave my shoulders a squeeze and released me. "Didn't mean to get all emotional there, sorry. You're here for your art, not for Forrest."

  "I don't mind," I began, but she talked over me.

  "So, let's see your pieces."

  After inspecting them, she said, "You brought this one before," her finger hovering over the largest starfish.

  I nodded.

  "You're sure it belongs here?"

  My first outing with Forrest. "Yes. I want this career to work. So, yes."

  She smiled. "Well, they're not all quite what I asked for but I do like them, so we'll see what happens." She pulled out a file folder and flipped through, then said, "Good job, we have fourteen to sell."

  "You really think I can do this? Be a success, I mean?" The words tumbled from me, unexpected, and her surprised expression made me wish I'd somehow held them back.

  "Tess, I wouldn't be working with you if I didn't. When you run amok, I'm never sure what I'll get, but even those pieces have something. We'll get you on track and then who knows. You might be the next Mango."

  Delight and dread swirled through me, in approximately equal measure.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  I didn't build another piece all week. Jayne had what she needed and nothing inspired me to make one for myself. Instead, I did nothing but swim, massage, and panic, over and over like some unholy never-ending triathlon.

  When Forrest arrived for his next massage, he stared at the floor and muttered an apology for being rude to me the night before. I refused to accept it since he'd been freaked out for good reason and so didn't need to apologize, but he insisted. I eventually told him I'd understood at the time and of course I forgave him, and we gradually began to relax with each other again.

  Physically, he was healed. Emotionally, not so much, and I still longed to help him.

  By Friday night, though, I was the one in need of help. I woke up far too early after dreaming of everyone laughing me out of the gallery, and as the day progressed I grew steadily more nervous about the reaction of Jayne's highly polished clientele.

  Show time finally came, and went with no Mango.

  "I told you he'd be late," Jayne said, bustling past. "Likes to make an entrance. If he's here in half an hour we'll be lucky."

  "Half an hour?" I said to Jen. "I'll be a drooling pile on the floor by then."

  Poor Jen, fighting her own fears on my behalf, had tried to keep me calm, but what little sanity I had left was largely due to Forrest. He'd arrived right after practice, two full hours before the show, and Jayne had kept him busy ever since, but whenever he found a moment he wandered over to me and Jen, smiling, telling us jokes, promising to buy every piece if necessary although insisting they'd all sell. His strong solid presence helped soothe my nerves, and it seemed to work on Jen as well.

  I'd invited my parents, of course, but they'd already committed to a good friend's wedding. Pam hadn't responded to her invitation, and I hadn't been surprised. I missed my family, but having them there would have only increased my stress. Even without them,
and despite Forrest and Jen's efforts, when Mango arrived forty minutes late I was terrified.

  Apparently it showed.

  Mango patted my shoulder and said, "Deep breaths, my dear, deep breaths," as Forrest took his coat, then added, "They're all here to see you, you know. Nobody cares about old tired me when there's young gorgeous you around."

  His leer made me laugh, but Jayne signaled for silence and my nerves leapt again.

  After a brief introduction of Mango, whom everyone already knew, and a longer one of me, Jayne said, "And now, let's see their work, shall we?"

  The audience cheered, and Mango pulled the black silk drape from his first piece with a flourish. It was a two-faced man, carved from a rich red wood. A tear ran down the first face's cheek, while the other face had its tongue out catching a drop of water. It gave me the shivers.

  A large video screen showed detailed pictures of the piece, and the crowd stared at them, not the artwork itself, for several seconds before breaking into applause.

  Mango smiled, seeming to suck in their enthusiasm and grow big with it, then waved his hand. "Enough, my darlings. Let's see what Tess has for us."

  My hands shaking so much I could barely keep the silk between my fingers, I tugged the covering off the glass dome protecting the first piece. I couldn't bring myself to watch the crowd's reaction, so instead I studied the city hall and its staff of creatures.

  I'd known what 'sale' meant, of course, but unveiling a piece born of a ridiculous conversation with Jen, seeing it here in front of all these people on its own pedestal with a discreet price sticker at the base? I'd never felt anything like it.

  The crowd clapped, and my heart fluttered as several people murmured in appreciation, and we moved on, alternating between my work and Mango's.

  For some pieces, my only emotions were happiness and anticipation. Death by chocolate, the cabbage garden, the 'baby daddy': I'd be delighted to see any of them find a good home.

  For others, though, my reactions were darker. The starfish lemmings, the triumphant creation of the letter A, the court of love... seeing those on sale hurt. Hearing the crowd, no more appreciative than they'd been for the others, hurt too. Pieces of my life, soon to be gone to strangers.

  Jayne had spent ages deciding on the show order, and had eventually decided to put "Bearing Disguises" last. I'd thought the one with the glowing heart, which after much thought I'd named simply "Shine On", would be a better ending, but she'd said, "They won't get it. The bears and bull make more sense."

  I didn't think Jayne got the piece either.

  But Mango did.

  When I drew away its covering, he looked up at the screen and his showy smile subsided. He studied the piece itself, his face intense, even after the audience stopped clapping.

  The room held its breath.

  At last he laid a hand on my shoulder in a gesture somehow religious and sanctified. "So brave," he murmured, his eyes holding the same pain they'd held at our lunch when he'd talked about my difficulties in making the pieces Jayne wanted instead of the ones I wanted.

  Then he called out, again in the richly dramatic voice of Mango LaRue instead of whoever he'd been before, "Jayne, I must own this piece. My life will be incomplete without it. Indeed, how have I survived thus far?"

  The crowd cheered and Mango swept me into his arms.

  "It's too personal for them," he whispered. "It belongs with someone who understands. Please, let me buy it."

  "You don't have to," I said, tears rising. "You can have it."

  "No, I will buy it. And I will cherish it."

  I stood, blinking and grinning, watching him scrawl his initials on the 'sold' tag Jayne provided.

  "Now, let the sale begin," Mango said grandly when he'd shown his last piece.

  I frowned, and Jayne said, "Tess has one more to reveal, Mango."

  "Of course, how silly of me," he boomed. "Tess, ready to unveil it?"

  He barely glanced at the bears piece, and I knew why when I looked at it. There was no soul to it, no life, no energy.

  It got the same applause as the earlier pieces, though.

  Mango kissed my hand, to cheers. "Tess Grayson, everyone. Remember this day. It's not often we see the beginning of such an incredible new career."

  Overwhelmed, I threw my arms around his neck and whispered, "Thank you."

  "You're braver than me. I hope you survive."

  Mango's admirers pulled him away, and people began asking me how I'd made certain pieces. At first I gave honest answers, but their eyes glazed over and I realized they didn't care, so I copied the kinds of responses I could hear Mango giving.

  "Oh, constant work, my dear, that's the secret."

  "Ideas? They're everywhere, my good man. You just have to pick them up."

  "Yes, I'm sure you could make it yourself. But how clever of you to let me do it for you."

  A short woman with fluffy white hair and a four-strand pearl necklace locked so tightly around her throat I feared for her airway finally finished talking to me and I fell into the arms of Jen, who'd been waiting behind her with Forrest.

  "You're amazing," Jen said, squeezing me tight then releasing me. "Right into a new career as the old one winds--" She cut herself off and looked flustered.

  "Hey, old career here." Forrest gave Jen a gentle punch on the arm. "She's not rid of us yet. Sunday's her last day, and Filmore--"

  I put my hands over my ears. "If you tell me Filmore always waits until the last second to give contracts, I swear I'll bite you. That's all I've been hearing this week." Nearly every player, and even Mike, had asked about my future with the team, and they'd all rushed to reassure me when I'd said I apparently had none. Sweet, but beginning to grate. I wouldn't take a contract, but I'd have liked Filmore to offer it.

  We laughed, and I uncovered my ears.

  "It doesn't matter tonight anyhow." Forrest moved closer and put his hands on my shoulders. "Congratulations." He looked deep into my eyes. "You've done such a great job."

  I stepped forward into his embrace, wrapping my arms around his waist. He held me close, warming me inside and out as if I sat near a glowing fire. I could have stayed there forever, but he began to draw back so I made myself release him before he had to pull away.

  Turning back to Jen, I saw her brushing a tear from her eye and bumped her with my hip. "What are you crying for?"

  She gave me a watery smile. "You look better in my skirt than I do."

  The three of us laughed again, and I looked down at the swirling shades of silvery gray in the long full skirt I wore with a white top and the blue shawl she'd made me. "I hate to say it, but you're right."

  She shook her head. "Always so tactful, that's why I love you. Hey, I was surprised by some of those pieces. Weren't you going to keep them?"

  I'd been afraid she'd bring that up. "I was, but I figured if I was going for this, I should really go for it. You know?"

  She looked doubtful. "But you loved those ones. The starfish, and the one with the A."

  Forrest looked past me. "Ladies, will you excuse me? I think my mother needs help," he said, and took off.

  Jen was still waiting for an answer.

  "It's too late to get them back now," I began, but her look of horror made me change direction. "I don't mean it like that. They're here now, on sale, and I'm glad. Yes, I am. I want this career more than anything."

  She grinned. I knew she still had doubts, but she wouldn't dump them on me. "Good for you. Go big or go home, right?"

  "You got it."

  "Given the subject matter, shouldn't it be 'go small or go home'?"

  I smiled. "Whatever you say, babe. Just don't go home. I need you."

  She hugged me. "Not a chance, as long as we can go big at the food table. I'm starving."

  We'd both been too nervous to eat the pizza Jayne had ordered pre-show. "You bet."

  When Forrest returned, Jen said, "Tess, do you mind if I wander around for a while? I've never been to o
ne of these dos and I want to soak it up, listen to all the upper-crust talk."

  Before I could answer, she looked at Forrest. "You'll guard her, right?"

  He stretched to his full height and loomed over me. "With my life."

  She grinned at him. "That might be excessive, but good for you." She looked back at me. "Is okay?"

  "Absolutely. Have fun."

  Jayne had told me to mingle, and I did, but Forrest stayed near. Even when people recognized him and started conversations about the team's prospects, his eyes kept returning to me, making sure I was all right.

  Jayne eventually called for silence. When she got it, she said, "For your information, Mango has only four pieces left for sale tonight and Tess has three."

  The blood rushed from my head, and I stared at Forrest in shock. "I was afraid I wouldn't sell any and I've sold eleven?"

  Nearby people laughed, not unkindly, but the short woman with the pearls said, "No need for the false modesty, dearie," her tone making it clear it wasn't a joke.

  "Tess only has real modesty," Forrest said, his voice cool without being rude, and took me by the elbow. "Let's go see which ones sold."

  Once we were a few feet away, and for the moment relatively alone, he said, "Is that okay? I had to get away before I body-checked her."

  I laughed. "I wish you had."

  He dropped my arm and made to retrace our steps.

  I caught his shoulder. "Don't you dare."

  We smiled, then his eyes turned serious. "I'm so proud of you, you know," he said awkwardly. "It's not my place to say it, I guess, but I am."

  "It's okay," I said, feeling so touched and like an idiot at the same time. "You can say it."

  "So many people would have quit by now, but you didn't even consider it."

  "I did," I whispered, not wanting to lie to him.

  He moved closer. "But you kept going. You're so driven. It's amazing. You're amazing."