by Holly Rayner
She would be saved.
The thought of not needing Jay anymore didn’t sit quite right with her. If his name was cleared and the funds released, their engagement would be over, no harm, no foul.
And yet…
The thought of it left a gaping sadness in her heart. Her mind raced with possibilities as the driver swiftly drove across town and parked in front of a trendy upscale steakhouse. Before the driver could do his usual thing and walk around to open her door for her, Marianne opened it herself, stepping out.
“Thank you again!” she said.
The man glanced back at her and nodded.
“You’re welcome,” he said.
She waited for him to say something else, like that he would be on call if they needed, or perhaps some kind of message for Jay. When he said nothing more, she waved and closed the door behind her. She turned and faced the building, wondering what to do next.
“I’m sorry, Marianne.”
She turned and saw Jay rushing toward her. He pressed a hand against her back, then realized what he was doing and swiftly pulled it away, placing it by his side.
“It’s perfectly fine. Thanks for the ride,” Marianne said.
His gaze was distracted, his eyes darting around as though he were calculating a particularly difficult math problem.
“Do you want to go in?” Marianne asked.
“Yes. Yes, of course. Let’s.”
He opened the door for her to walk in, and he followed close behind. When they reached the host stand, once again Jay was recognized.
“Mr. Parish! We have your regular table ready to go,” the young man said.
“Do you have table real estate at every restaurant in town?” Marianne joked.
Jay’s eyes darted to her, then perused the room.
“No. Not every restaurant.”
And that was that. Something was obviously wrong, but Marianne had no idea what. They were seated at a table with a lovely view of the park’s northern side, and Marianne ordered a glass of cabernet. Jay ordered a whiskey, neat.
Something definitely was wrong.
Marianne cleared her throat.
“Well, while we’re here, I’ve been thinking,” she said, though she couldn’t finish.
The waitress was quick, and they had their drinks delivered right then. Marianne took a sip of her drink, her nerves blossoming further. Maybe the wine would help.
Jay took a long pull of his whiskey, before he turned his attention back to her.
“You were saying?” he prompted.
What was she saying? Ah, yes.
“I’ve been thinking about planning ahead. I’m curious what your thoughts were on marriage arrangements. What kind of timeline do you have in mind, for instance? And do you want to have a large ceremony, in keeping with the big show of all this, or something smaller and more intimate?”
His gaze met hers, but she could tell no one was really home. His attention was far and away somewhere else, and it appeared their future nuptials would have to be the subject of discussion for another night.
“Jay. Earth to Jay!” she said, waving a hand in front of his face.
He blinked and then sat back, dazed.
“I’m sorry, what?” he asked.
“What was that call about?” she asked.
His eyes narrowed slightly.
“What call?” he said, his voice eerily calm.
“Your driver told me you couldn’t pick me up because you had to take a call. Is that what has you so distracted?”
He searched her gaze for a moment, as though considering how much he wanted to share. For all she knew, he was carrying more deep company secrets, but he’d never really had trouble sharing that information with her before.
No. This was something else. Something was wrong.
She reached across the table and placed her hand on top of his. For all he knew, she could be doing it for the façade, but her heart was in the gesture. She didn’t like seeing him so distraught. Finally, he turned his hand over, laying his palm against hers as he held her hand.
It was a lifeline, somehow, for them both. Marianne held on tight, and she knew she’d never want to let go.
But that was a thought for another day. Jay needed her, and she wanted to be there for him. From what she could tell, he wasn’t used to having someone to talk to, and he held her hand tight.
“When I found out about my citizenship status, I hired my own investigator to make sure that I had all the information I could. Not just for legal reasons. I never thought I’d have those kind of answers. My parents were open about my adoption, but they’d always said I’d come from America, and I always just kind of accepted that. I think once or twice I asked what state, but they would always find ways to change the subject, and then one day, I just stopped asking. They were my parents, and I trusted and loved them. I still do.”
His azure gaze was so haunted that it took everything in Marianne not to dive across the table and hold him in her arms. Instead, she held onto his grip, encouraging him to let it out.
“Anyway, my investigator got in touch with a nurse in Sladovia, one that was working at the orphanage when I was born. She was the one that called tonight.”
Marianne gasped, watching Jay intently as he told his tale.
“What did she say?” she asked.
His gaze grew distant again, as though he were experiencing long-lost memories, which, of course, was impossible. He wouldn’t have remembered such a time, but the idea of it was real enough.
“She said that when I was born, Sladovia was in the midst of a bloody, terrible war. I’d read about that, of course, but she described such horrible things. The suffering she saw in the hospital as a nurse was too much, and so she decided to bring her care elsewhere—to the orphanage, which had been filled to the brim as parents were lost in the carnage.”
Marianne’s eyes burned with unshed tears, but she stayed silent as he continued.
“As the violence grew near, the children were evacuated to another establishment, where they’d have a better chance of being adopted. After they left, a courier brought me in, and the nurse was the last woman there, alone. It was just the two of us.”
Tears glistened in Jay’s eyes as well as they held tight to each other, Marianne feeling the pain pouring from his soul.
“My parents arrived, then. It was one of their peace missions, where they worked providing food and basic provisions for the victims of the war. When they saw me, the last baby, alone, they couldn’t leave me there. The nurse advised them that there were no government agencies that could provide them with the paperwork for a foreign adoption. Every Sladovian government entity was in shambles.”
“So, they took you without permission,” Marianne breathed.
Jay nodded.
“They were wealthy enough to use back channels to get me back to the United States without too much trouble. At that point, they created a series of false documentation to keep me under wraps, and they never spoke of the orphanage again.”
Jay gazed up at Marianne, his broken soul calling out from behind a tortured gaze.
“They broke the law, yes, but they probably saved my life. There’s no knowing where I would have ended up if they hadn’t found me. And I lost them, too.”
Jay covered his eyes with his hands, breaking their connection as he pulled himself together. Marianne moved to his side of the table, sitting in the seat next to him and rubbing his back.
“I’m so sorry, Jay,” she whispered.
He inhaled, and the muscles of his back pressed against the palm of her hand. He reached out and cradled her hand in his, his gaze intense as it landed on her.
“Thank you, Marianne. You have no idea what it means to me to be able to talk about this with someone.”
“Of course. I’m happy to help,” she said.
He released his breath and squared his shoulders as collected himself.
“Well, I won’t let such depressing talk r
uin our night together. What kind of a gentleman would I be?”
“A human one, I imagine,” Marianne said.
He chuckled, and she realized that they were still holding hands. When he looked back at her, there was once again that open affection in his eyes.
“What would you say to having some of the best steaks in town?” he asked.
Marianne struggled a bit to bounce back from his tragic story. Clearly, Jay had a resiliency that surpassed her own to be able to recover and still remember to experience joy so soon. She tried to keep up, and granted him a wobbly smile.
“I thought we’d already had those last weekend.”
He shook his head.
“That was good, I’ll grant you that, but this place is a little more down-to-earth. They know how to do steaks on a proper grill.”
The waitress returned then, and they ordered a pair of steaks, complete with mashed potatoes and veggies.
“A wholesome meal I’d make in my own home,” Marianne said. “And here I thought you only enjoyed the finest of dining.”
Jay scoffed.
“Now, now. No one ever said that a nice barbecue didn’t count as fine dining. This is Texas we’re talking about here.”
“True,” she agreed, happy that the cadence of the evening was taking a happier note.
“You were asking about marriage arrangement details before, and I was ignoring you. I’m sorry,” he said.
She waved him off.
“It’s no big deal. We can figure that stuff out when the time comes, right?”
“Right,” he agreed. “There’s a chance that it might not happen, after all.”
Just as Marianne figured. Would he be happier with that out of the way? Would she? It was getting so complicated…perhaps she’d been foolish to think she could pull off such a thing without emotion getting in the way.
Yes, there was a chance that it might not happen…but what if it did?
Chapter 14
Marianne
The rest of the meal passed, and Jay’s mood improved with their conversation. They talked about favorite childhood memories, preferred ice cream flavors, and so many other topics that Marianne was fascinated by the time the bill arrived.
“Who likes butter pecan?” she asked, incredulous.
Jay laughed as he tossed a credit card onto the bill plate, which the waitress scooped up instantly as she walked away with a couple empty plates.
“I mean, a lot of people have to like it. You can find it in any ice cream shop. It’s a staple flavor.”
“Chocolate is a staple flavor. Butter pecan is like…vanilla with nuts in it. Gross!”
Her stomach hurt from laughing. She took another sip of her wine, the heady sensation once again taking over her senses. She felt wild and reckless, and the more she took in the sight of the gorgeous man before her, the less she wanted to go home.
The waitress returned with the check and Jay’s card.
“Have a great evening, folks!” she said.
“Thank you!” Marianne chirped.
They stood and headed outside, at which point Marianne realized that they’d been dining for several hours.
“Whoa, how long were we in there?” she asked, slightly bewildered.
“Hmm…” Jay said, glancing at his watch. “Long enough for us to go enjoy another activity.”
His gaze was warm as he looked down to gauge her reaction.
“What do you think? Are you up for another adventure?”
Marianne beamed up at him. She probably looked like an absolute fool, but she didn’t care. They were on assignment, weren’t they? This is what a whirlwind romance looked like.
Two fools, having the time of their lives.
“You are nothing if not an adventure, Mr. Parish,” she said.
The corner of his lip curved upward, revealing the shadow of a delectable dimple that Marianne wanted to gently caress with the tips of her fingers.
She gripped the edges of her jean pockets, the better to keep her hands to herself.
“Is that a yes?” he asked with a raised brow.
“That’s a yes, of course. You think I’m ready to go home, now, when I still have so much more to learn about you?”
His expression faltered momentarily, then shifted into a pleasant mask. Did she say something wrong? Perhaps it wasn’t the best idea to put out the reminder that this was a business venture, and nothing more.
There was a lot that Marianne wanted to know about Jay, and at this point, it was hard to convince herself that it was solely for the purpose of speaking with an immigration lawyer.
“Come on,” he said, looping his arm around her shoulders.
She nestled against him, happy to breathe in the scent of his spiced cologne. Subtle, sophisticated, and yet somehow able to hint at a wildness beneath it all. Jay was so many things wrapped into one perfect specimen of a man.
Marianne wrapped her arm around his waist, eliciting another suggestive brow lift from Jay.
“Getting into the act now, aren’t we?” he asked.
She shrugged, her shoulder lifting and sliding easily against him.
“We’ve got to be convincing, right?” she asked.
“Right,” he agreed with a nod.
They walked for several blocks until they saw a long line of people dressed for clubbing. They chatted easily with friends as they waited their turn to get into a club that was still around a whole other corner. As Marianne and Jay passed the line, she noticed several women cast her envious stares.
She kept her arm firmly wrapped around Jay’s waist.
They reached the front of the line, where a large bouncer sat on a stool, his bald head and muscular arms casting a kind of glow beneath the heating lamp above him.
When he looked up and saw Jay approach, he stood and grinned, his hand outstretched.
“Jay Parish. Been a while since we’ve seen you here, brother!”
Jay took his hand, not removing his other arm from Marianne’s shoulders, and gave it a firm shake.
“Mark. Always a pleasure to see you. How are things?”
“Oh, you know. Life is never boring.”
“You can say that again,” Jay mumbled, though Marianne imagined she was the only one who heard.
Mark unhooked the velvet separating cord and stepped aside, ignoring the groans of protest from those at the front of the line.
“Your table awaits, as ever,” he said.
“Thanks, man,” Jay said.
He reached into his pocket and slid a hundred dollar bill into the bouncer’s hand. Mark slid it into his own pocket without any reaction. Instead, he turned his attention back to the line, where he glared down anyone that wanted to question his decisions.
Marianne was certain that the line would be as polite as possible with someone like Mark managing the fray. As they stepped into a dark lobby, the pounding beat of electronic music pulsed through Marianne’s body.
“A proper club, huh?” she asked.
The heat from dancing bodies hit them, and Jay removed his arm from her shoulders, then, glancing down at her.
“Do you like dancing?” he asked.
She considered that for a moment, then nodded.
“I suppose I do. It’s probably been a good ten years since I’ve seen the inside of one of these places, but it’s good to know that, once again, you have a table set up for you at all times.”
Jay smirked as he held out his hand for her to take, which she did without hesitation.
“What can I say? My house is empty; I have no family to speak of. I find human connection elsewhere…anywhere I can.”
A pang of sadness shot through Marianne. He made it sound so normal, just a way to make new friends, but she knew his darkest secrets. She knew that not having a family, not having a sense of home made him feel less than complete.
He didn’t believe that such a life was in the cards for him.
Marianne squeezed his hand tight as they walked
through a doorway and into a colossal dance club. There was a large open space in the middle of the room, where many people were moving and twisting, coming together and apart. All around the room there were tables and booths, and Jay guided her up a red velvet staircase until they reached another velvet rope with a “VIP” sign on it.
Another bouncer glanced up from his phone and grinned.
“Jay!” he said, his voice muted from the loud, pounding music.
Jay reached out and shook his hand as well, and Marianne noticed another bill pass between them. The man stood and pulled back the rope, gesturing for them to step inside. When they did, it was a bit quieter, though not by much. Jay approached a center booth and gestured for Marianne to take a seat.
The table had several spirits and mixers on it, ready for them to use at their convenience.
“Champagne?” Jay asked.
“Why not?” Marianne said, still feeling wild and free.
It was like she was in a dream, living a life that she could wake up from in the morning, consequence free.
While that wasn’t true, and a little voice in the back of her head kept reminding her of that fact, she brushed each thought away like an errant fly.
Marianne would enjoy herself. She deserved it!
Jay poured them two glasses and then held up his cup.
“To happiness!” he said.
Marianne nodded.
“Can’t argue with that,” she said. “To happiness!”
They clinked glasses and both of them took a long pull of their drink, an unspoken contest starting as Jay made eye contact with Marianne. They finished their drinks and burst out laughing.
“I win,” Jay said, triumphant.
“You did not! Besides, it’s delicious champagne, so everyone wins. And anyway, it’s not even a competition,” she said.
Jay crossed his arms and grinned at her.
“That’s what people who lose say.”
She narrowed her eyes at him and pointed her index finger at his chest.
“You are supposed to be wooing me, future husband,” she said. “This is not a good woo!”
He pressed his hand against his heart, mock-wounded.
“Oh my goodness. Forgive me, madam. I think I have a better idea for the wooing, as it were. Come on!”