Kegan rubbed his forehead with the hand not holding mine. "Jen's probably the worst example. But I've been a pain in the ass to a lot of women."
"Not to Tess. Not to me. Or Dorothy. Or Mildred. Your sister obviously adores you."
"Five women don't hate me. How many are on the planet again?"
"Six."
We laughed.
"Five out of six women don't hate me. I'll take it." He gave my hand another squeeze and released it. "But in all seriousness, I don't want to be that guy any more. It's hard, though. I want things done right."
My hand felt cold and lonely. "Of course you do. Especially with your restaurants."
He shook his finger at me. "Don't mention them. I don't want to talk work tonight."
We smiled at each other and warmth flooded me, nearly making up for not holding his hand any more. I couldn't deny it: I was falling for him. I knew better, but I couldn't help myself.
"But I do want to talk you. What's the deal with your neighbor?"
His eyes were intent on my face, and realizing the answer mattered to him made me glad I could say, "No deal at all. We've only spoken a few times since my clot."
"Was there ever a deal?"
His voice had gone softer and a little rough, and it sent shivers through me. Was he falling for me too? Knowing if I told him I didn't want to discuss it he'd let it go, but also knowing he wanted to know and I didn't want to lie to him, I said, "Yes. Once. Both of us drunk and depressed on Valentine's Day. Dumb thing to do."
His eyes held no judgment, only sympathy. "It happens."
"Yeah, but it shouldn't when you're married."
"True. How long until you're not married any more?"
"I walked out on January sixth, so we can get divorced next month. And we will."
"No chance of a reconciliation?"
"I can't imagine how. We've barely talked since. He talks to my mother but not to me."
"Better her than you, I guess."
I gave a grunt of a laugh. "Definitely. They always got along better than he and I did. Or than she and I do, for that matter."
He shook his head. "Why did he not want you to have a career?"
I sighed. "I don't know. I don't think he really knew. His parents split up when he was young and he had this... vision of what a marriage should be that just wasn't realistic. He wanted the white picket fence and all that, and we actually had that fence installed when we started renting our house but it wasn't enough."
"And part of the vision was you at home, I guess."
I nodded, and he shook his head again. "I wouldn't be able to be involved with a woman who didn't have a career, or at least something she was passionate about, even a hobby like reading. I've never dated someone who wasn't driven in some way."
I'd left Charles, moved from my hometown, and sold the car I loved to get ahead in my career. That counted as driven, didn't it?
Our eyes met, and Kegan's slow smile suggested it did.
*****
We moved into less intimate topics of discussion, and soon I knew more about Kegan than I'd ever known about a boss and still longed to know more.
Our conversation wasn't all about him, either. Not even close. We talked about my childhood and my best and worst working experiences and what I'd thought of the movies and music he'd sent me when my clot was diagnosed. We talked about the underwater hockey team and he touched me by saying he'd love me to join but hadn't wanted to put me on the spot to commit when that guy had brought it up. And we talked about Tanisha and my growing friendship with her.
We saw each other at least once a week but I still hadn't done what I knew Mildred wanted and gotten her back to school.
"Do you know why she stopped in the first place?"
I did; she'd told me a week ago after a few glasses of wine for her and half of one for me. She'd been saying how much she'd liked her professor, and then said, "One night of sex with the wrong person and everything falls apart." But she'd seemed shocked at herself for telling me and changed the subject, and I doubted she'd want Kegan to know, so I just said, "I think it was a personality conflict with her professor."
He grimaced. "It's too bad. She's smart, and Mildred would so love it if she got her life back together."
I nodded. While I wouldn't tell him what she'd said, I could and did say, "It doesn't seem like enough to make her put her whole degree on hold. But I guess it is, to her."
He smiled at me. "If anyone can get her going again, it'll be you. Look how you motivated me to open Magma."
"You wanted to. I just helped you see it."
"Nobody else saw it, though. You listened to both my words and what I didn't say."
He did too, throughout the evening. Really listened. No other man had ever listened to me like that, not just waiting for his turn to talk but really thinking about what I said and letting it guide what he said back. I felt like I mattered to him.
Inevitably, though, the night drew to a close. He drove me home and walked me up to my apartment, and as we reached my floor I wondered if he'd try to kiss me and wondered further if I wanted him to. I did like him, no doubt about that. But I loved my job. And making out with my boss was a great way to end up with no job and no make-out partner.
I unlocked my door and turned to face him. "Thank you so much. I had a great time."
He smiled. "There's nobody else I'd rather have been with today, and tonight." Then he reached out and brushed his fingers slowly over my hair and down onto my cheek.
I caught my breath at the feel of it, the way my skin blazed under his touch and tingled after he moved on.
His hand moved even slower, even more deliciously, his eyes following its path along my face. When he reached my chin, he let his fingers rest for a moment, their warmth pouring into me, then drew them back. "I'll see you tomorrow morning, okay?"
"I'll be there," I managed through the sensations dancing through me. I'd had sex that was less enjoyable than Kegan's single touch.
We stood looking into each other's eyes, then he said, "Good night, Mary," and turned to head for the stairs.
"Good night," I said softly, relief and disappointment battling inside me. Though I knew we shouldn't kiss, disappointment won. I felt sure he'd be a spectacular kisser, but I wanted to know exactly how spectacular.
He looked back and winked at me before vanishing into the stairwell.
I smiled, though I knew he couldn't see it, then my smile vanished and adrenaline flooded me in a dizzy rush as Brian opened his door.
He said, "Dating your boss now? Saw him mauling you," in a too-loud voice, and I realized he was drunk.
Kegan hadn't mauled me. But Brian must have been watching us through his peephole. Anger ripped through me. "No, I'm not. And it's none of your business anyhow."
I tried to pull my door closed but he got his foot into the gap before I could.
"Then why'd he bring you home at eleven o'clock?"
Was it really that late? We had been at the restaurant a long time. "We were working. That's what you do with your boss."
"We used to be friends. And then you got that job and now you don't have time for me."
"You don't want to be friends, you just want money. Or to dump your problems on me."
"That's not true. I feed Saffron. I help you out."
I didn't want him here, ruining what had been a glorious evening. "You're right. I'm sorry. I need to go to sleep, Brian."
His foot slid back an inch but not enough for me to close the door. "I need to talk. If I don't get a job soon, or get three hundred dollars some other way, I'll lose my apartment."
Even as part of me thought, "Which would stop you bugging me," the rest said, "I don't want that to happen."
"Then please. I can't figure it out on my own. Help me."
I sighed. "Will you actually listen and do something to help yourself?"
"Of course. I promise."
I let him in, although my every instinct screamed not t
o, and spent the next two hours listening to him whining and rejecting my possible solutions. He didn't even ask about my leg.
When I fell asleep on the couch in the middle of his sentence, he woke me up and asked me to lend him the three hundred dollars he needed. Half-asleep and dopey, I agreed before I realized what I'd done then couldn't figure out how to back out. He did leave when I gave him the check, though, so I managed to convince myself it was worth it.
Once he finally left, I went to bed without washing my face. Even now, when I concentrated I could still feel Kegan's caress. I didn't want to lose it.
*****
I woke up the next morning disgusted with myself. Partly for what I'd given Brian, but mostly for how I'd replayed Kegan's touch over and over as I fell asleep. Yes, I had feelings for him, and yes, that caress had woken parts of me that had been dormant a long time, but he was my boss. My career dreams had been dormant a lot longer than my libido, and I would not sacrifice the former for the latter. No way.
That resolved, I took a shower and dressed to spend the day at Magma, then checked my email over breakfast in case Kegan had any instructions for me. We didn't have Internet access at Magma yet since the office was still being renovated.
Nothing from him, but to my surprise I had one from Charles. The surprise turned to shock as I saw the subject line: I want you back.
I stared at the screen as if I could somehow make the email vanish, the toast I'd eaten turning to concrete in my stomach. No. Please, no. Why would he send such a thing? Had my mother put him up to it? If she had, still he'd been weak and stupid enough to send it. If she hadn't, if he really did want me to come back to him...
My hands shook so hard I couldn't keep the mouse pointer positioned over the email, but with a spastic jerk I managed to get it there and click to open the message. Then I shut my eyes. I couldn't face it.
The depth of my revulsion stunned me. I couldn't think of anything worse than going back to Charles. Marrying Jimmy felt like it'd be a step up, maybe even two steps. And yet only a year ago I'd thought Charles and I would stay together forever.
True. But I hadn't thought we'd live happily ever after. I just hadn't thought I'd find the nerve to leave, and I hadn't had the final trigger to make me leave.
I had nerve now. I had faced down Kegan and won the job of my dreams. I'd made it through the blood clot mostly on my own. And while I hadn't been able to make Jimmy permanently back off, I had found the strength to clearly tell him I didn't like his actions, even if only once. I was tougher than I'd ever thought. Maybe I always had been.
I opened my eyes and read the email.
Need electronics? I need you back. Much-loved former customer, come again and buy computer, phone, even television, all at great prices. Click link to buy.
I'd never been happier to realize someone's email had been hacked. My relief was so overwhelming that I burst into giggles and then full-on laughter. I did feel a tiny bit of sympathy for Charles, but mostly a great deal of "serves you right" since he'd always been so dismissive of people "too stupid to keep their accounts safe". Takes one to know one, buddy.
That thought made me think of Kegan and Lola, and my laughter died down. I'd have been surprised if Kegan had for some reason sent me an "I want you back" email, or if either of my exes had, but I wouldn't have been freaked out. And I hadn't just been freaked out. I'd been disgusted, revolted.
I'd known I didn't want to get back together with Charles. Now I knew I couldn't. My body was repelled by the mere thought.
Chapter Fourteen
I waited outside Kegan's closed condo door, smiling as I heard Rudy shriek, "Mary's here!"
The door flew open, and I stepped in past the clearly over-excited boy.
"Give me one second, Mary," Kegan called from the living room. "Just beating Lola at car racing, then I'll come say hi."
"You're not beating me!"
I set my bag of gifts on the hall chair. Kegan and I hadn't discussed exchanging Christmas presents but I'd wanted to get him something to thank him for all he'd done for me, and then I'd felt strange about not bringing gifts for the kids too. I shucked off my snow-dampened coat and my boots, while Rudy stood watching me intently. The instant my second foot came free of its boot he said, "Will you make cookies for us?", speaking so fast the words were almost unintelligible.
"I... sure, if your uncle has the ingredients."
Lola whooped in triumph and Kegan appeared. "Thanks for coming. I need all the help I can get with these two."
"I hear I'm making cookies."
He turned to Rudy. "You asked her already? What did I say?"
"To wait until she had her coat and boots off."
I burst out laughing. "He did. Just."
Kegan shook his head, grinning. "Rudy, I meant to let her get inside and relax first."
Rudy pouted, and I said, "It's okay. I like making cookies."
"Chocolate chip!" Lola joined the party in the hall.
"If there are chips here."
"Trust me, we could outfit a bakery. I took these weasels grocery shopping this afternoon. Cost me two hours and at least a year off my life, but I can't imagine there's anything cookie-related we don't have. Or any kind of junk food or candy."
I smiled at him. "It's nice of you to give your sister a break."
"It's her main Christmas present. And she better appreciate it."
"Mommy has a party at work tonight, and then tomorrow she's buying our presents!"
"On Christmas Eve? She's brave."
"We picked up your present today," Rudy said.
Kegan had bought me something? How sweet of him. I didn't have time to dwell on it, though, because Lola was viciously shushing her brother. "Don't tell!"
"I wasn't going to, I was just saying we—"
Not wanting to see a war erupt, I said, "Well, I have presents for you guys too."
"Can we open them now?"
I looked at Kegan.
He smiled. "If you're good, you can open them after dinner. Go play with the PlayStation for a while."
They went off in silence, obviously trying to be on their best behavior, and Kegan said, "That should buy us at least a little peace."
I smiled, then laughed with him when Lola screeched at Rudy for taking her controller. "You did say a little peace."
"Microscopic peace. Anything interesting at Magma today?"
No, just tediousness. I liked John Franklin but he did have a tendency to patronize me. I'd so far tried to get him to put shelves, electrical outlets, and the telephone jacks exactly where I wanted them and he'd always had reasons why his choices were better. I hadn't quite been able to make him do it my way because my only reason was "because I said so". I'd be able to work around everything, though, so we'd be fine. "Nope. Oh, the bathroom walls are finished. That shimmery paint looks amazing."
He grinned. "Better than the one coat did?"
"Totally."
I'd expressed my concerns about the slightly scruffy nature of the paint after a single coat during dinner the night before. We'd had lunch or dinner or at least a long coffee break together every day since the fifteenth. Ostensibly they were working sessions, but in reality we spent a few minutes discussing work and then just enjoyed each other's company. No further caresses, but the way he looked at me felt nearly as good.
I'd decided several times that I couldn't risk my career by imagining a relationship with Kegan, and I'd meant it each time, but I found myself imagining it anyhow. We got along so well outside of work, and ninety-five percent of the time at work too.
That other five, though... When I'd first started working with him I thought we'd always be on the same page but at times now we didn't even seem to speak the same language.
I'd known he would be keeping an eye on my work, he'd warned me of that himself, but I hadn't expected the degree to which he'd interfere with my plans. Time and again he called himself on his own control issues, and then the next day he'd be right bac
k telling me I should garnish a dish with three mint leaves instead of just two.
I knew he needed that level of control: a huge part of why Steel had been so successful was Kegan's focus and attention. But I couldn't help being annoyed when he got in my way even though he always apologized.
"I'll go see it next week, after Christmas. Assuming I survive tonight and tomorrow with the monsters."
"So what's the plan?" I'd been surprised when Kegan asked me to hang out with them, but also pleased. I'd seen the kids a few times at Steel and we got along well, and I certainly didn't mind spending more time with Kegan. Besides, it got me out of the apartment and away from Brian's annoying visits. Still no job, still no money, and still no gumption to fix his life.
"I ordered pizza already, and—"
"I'd have made us dinner."
"I know, which is why I ordered pizza. So you wouldn't have to."
I smiled at him. "But I still have to make cookies."
He grinned. "You can tell them you won't, but I can't guarantee your safety after. And then I figured we could watch one of the eight hundred movies they made me rent and play some video games."
"Good plan."
We went into the living room, Kegan carrying my bag of gifts, and sat on the love seat together to watch the kids play. He dragged over an ottoman so I could put my leg up, and we chatted about nothing in between cheering on the kids. Being so domestic with him felt good. Too good, in fact, since I knew we shouldn't consider getting together, and I found myself half-disappointed and half-relieved when the pizza arrived and we had to focus on feeding Rudy and Lola.
Once everyone had eaten enough, Rudy said, "Cookie time?"
Lola shook her head. "Present time!"
Rudy jumped on the bandwagon. "Can we?"
Kegan looked at me. "Would you say they've been good?"
Our eyes caught and held and a shiver rippled down my spine at the connection between us. I took a deep breath, pushing it away. Hardly the right time or place. "Oh, I think so."
The kids cheered and scattered. Rudy found my bag and pulled out two presents, and Lola gave me a small silver-wrapped box. "You should go first, I guess. You're the guest."
Toronto Collection Volume 1 (Toronto Series #1-5) Page 87