“On scholarship?” he asked, but sounded like he already knew the answer.
“Yeah,” she said, looking down at the table. “my family never would have been able to afford college.”
“And look at the life you made for yourself,” he said, his tone encouraging.
The waiter walked back then, balancing plates on his arms with impressive dexterity, saving her from having to talk about her past any more.
“Caprice salad,” he said, laying a small white platter on the table with slices of tomatoes and mozzarella topped with basil leaves. “Mushroom and eggplant tortellini,” he said, placing a bowl down. “Penne with pesto,” he said, dropping another bowl down. “And last but not least, roasted Tuscan vegetables,” he said, putting down the last plate, piled with asparagus, onions, peppers, and zucchini. “Lenny said all plates are to share and that you have to leave room for dessert.”
“Everything looks great,” Lena said, smiling at the server. “Thank you.”
“Enjoy your meal.”
Lena looked over at Eric, her smile playful. “Oh my god... where do we start?”
Eric tilted his head to the side for a moment before reaching for his fork and picking up two penne noodles. He carefully lead it over to her mouth, watching her as she opened and he slipped his fork inside. He pulled the fork away, looking at her with intense eyes. “Good?”
Lena nodded, taking her eyes off of his and reaching for her own fork. No one had ever fed her before. She always thought she would find it demeaning or awkward. But it had been unexpectedly sexual.
They carefully plowed through the food, eating almost every bit of each plate before the waiter returned for their dessert order.
Lena watched Eric with a raised brow as he poured two shots of espresso into his coffee and started to drink it, black. “You're gonna enjoy that ulcer,” she commented, adding cream and sugar to her coffee.
Eric smiled, looking at her with in-drawn eyebrows. “Liam says the same thing. So do you have room for this chocolate concoction Lenny has planned for us?”
Lena looked at him over her coffee cup, her face a mask of seriousness. “Oh, there is always room for chocolate,” she said and Eric chuckled, stretching his arm across the back of the chair, his fingers playing with the ends of her hair.
The check came too quickly, Lena feeling uncharacteristically disappointed. She glanced sideways at Eric for a split second before moving her hand out from under the table, with every intention on paying the bill herself.
“Don't even think about it, baby,” Eric said, his tone low and amused. But firm. There was no way she was going to get away with it.
Lena watched as he slipped a credit card into the book and slid it toward the end of the table. She didn't even want to think about what the tab was. Especially with the wine. It had to be in the hundreds and that thought made her too-full belly feel sick.
“What?” Eric said, leaning closer and kissing her cheek. “Never had a man pay for dinner before?”
“I usually try to pay.”
“Of course you do,” he said, his tone somehow both teasing and kind.
“Well... society being what it is... when a man pays for a meal he generally expects more than a thank you.”
“Boys,” he said, his voice a bit disgusted. “expect more than a thank you. A man is just happy to spend a few hours in your company.”
Lena felt herself smile a bit, leaning down and resting her head on his shoulder for a quick second. The side of his face leaned on her hair until she realized what she was doing and sat up, moving slightly away.
What the hell was that? Lena watched at Eric quickly filled out the receipt, feeling unsure of herself. She was never the touchy-feel-y type. She didn't just... snuggle up on guys in the middle of a crowded restaurant. That wasn't like her at all.
Eric scooted toward the end of the booth. “You ready to head back?” he asked.
No. Not at all. “Yes,” she said, sliding out and falling into step beside him.
He walked her back to the inn, holding her hand and stopping just outside the front door. He looked down at her for a moment as if trying to figure out what he was going to say.
He leaned forward, kissing her forehead quickly and dropping her hand. “Thank you for coming to dinner with me,” he said and turned and walked away.
Thirteen
Lena stood there watching him get into his car and drive back to the garage. He sat inside it for a long minute before getting out and going inside.
That was probably the most unexpected thing she had experienced in years. Who would think that the town womanizer would show up at her door with flowers, take her to a fancy restaurant, have meaningful conversation with her, then drop her off with nothing but a chaste kiss on the forehead?
What had gotten into him?
Lena turned back toward the hotel, going inside. The bell above the door was stuck all wrapped up in itself and silent for a change. No one was at the front desk which usually meant it was Emily's night to man it.
She stood there for a long moment, her heart racing in her chest, her head a bit fuzzy from the wine and the strangeness of her evening. It was the perfect opportunity. She needed to get into the computer. No one was around.
She listened for a few seconds, hearing a rowdy crash from the kitchen and Emily's voice above it, yelling, “Damn it all to hell.”
Lena took a shallow breath and slipped behind the desk. She moved the mouse on the surface of the desk, her fingers feeling tingly and foreign. She really, really did not have the nerves for this kind of work. Next time Elliott wanted a spy, he could hire an actual one.
The screen came up, bright and blinding. With no password protection. Which was really, really careless even though it made her job a lot easier. She was no hacker. There's no way she could get in if there was a password. But customers had their personal information saved on the computer. It was careless to leave it so accessible.
Lena pushed past the idea that before she arrived, there had never been any cause for suspicion.
She felt suddenly guilty. Like she was betraying a trust. Which was ridiculous seeing as she barely knew these people. But it was there, making her blood roar in her ears and her heart slam in her chest. It was wrong. They had accepted her. Been kind to her. And she was breaking into their computer system.
She brought up the financial records, quickly flipping through the pages, trying to get as much information as quickly as possible to write down as soon as she got back up to her room.
She had just seen something odd, something she couldn't quite point out, but knew it was off when, very loud and very angry, Emily's voice said, “What the hell do you think you're doing?”
Lena's hands froze on the mouse, her throat feeling swollen and constricted. She was caught. That was it. Her worst fear was realized.
“What are you some kind of friggen identity thief?” Emily yelled, reaching over and hitting the power button.
The screen went dark in front of her, making her own reflection visible. Guilty, terrified. “Emily, I can ex...”
“No,” Emily said, her tone seething, viscous even. “I don't think you can. I want you out. Right now. Go up to your room and get your shit and get the hell out. Now,” she said when Lena didn't immediately move.
Lena felt her face flush, her stomach queasy. She lowered her gaze, unable to face the accusation in Emily's eyes. She walked quickly up the stairs, unlocking her door and throwing all her clothes back into her suitcase as quickly as possible, everything in a tangled mess. She threw her laptop into it's bag and rushed back down the steps.
Emily was standing at the side of the desk, blocking the entrance behind it. Her arms were crossed over her chest. She could feel her shooting daggers at her as she walked past, slumped forward and looking every bit as guilty as she felt.
Lena walked quickly down the front path, wanting to get off of the inn property b
efore Emily decided to call the sheriff on her. That was the absolute last thing that she needed. That would be a fun one to try to explain to Elliott.
She dragged her bag behind her, moving toward the corner of town, sneaking behind the school and going to sit on the playground.
She grabbed her phone out of her pocket, going into her work email and quickly typing a message to Elliott. She had to get it over with or she was going to make herself sick over how to tell him.
Got caught trying to get information off of the computer system. Obviously was thrown out of the inn.
LE
There. That was good enough. At least he wouldn't be expecting any more information.
Lena moved over to the swing, sitting down on it and looking around anxiously. Like the townspeople would be showing up at any moment with pitchforks and torches. She hung her head, taking a deep breath.
She just needed to figure out her next step. She needed someplace to stay. Preferably away from the eyes of everyone in town. Because she was sure that by noon tomorrow, everyone would hear about Lena Edwards the identity thief.
Lena shut her eyes, rubbing at them with her fingers. It was too humiliating to even think about.
So she wasn't going to think about it. She was going to think about where to go from here. She needed a place to stay. Or she needed a way to get out of town. As soon as possible.
She stood up, grabbing her bags, and walking back toward town from behind all the buildings. Like a criminal.
There was really only one place to go. One place that had her car. That maybe could be fixed sooner than expected. Or, if that wasn't possible, maybe she could pay him to lend her one of his cars. They could meet up and exchange whenever hers was fixed.
She crossed down the middle of Main Street, all the lights in town off except for a few down at the inn. Even across the distance, she could swear she felt Emily's eyes watching her.
She got as far as the door, looking at the doorbell for the second level where he lived, before she chickened out. What could she say? How was she going to explain what was going on without seeming like a complete fraud? She put her bags down and sat on the ground, leaning against the cold building.
She could lie. She had been doing plenty of that. She might even be able to pull it off now. Tell him there was an emergency at work. That she needed to get back as soon as possible. Get him agree to the car swap deal. She doubted he would fight her about it.
But, god, she felt bad even asking.
Especially after such a nice date. It felt wrong.
She felt the tears well up hot and urgent before she could push them away. It had been a long, long time since she felt so hopeless. In her sort of twisted version of reality, having money in her bank account was supposed to fix everything. It was supposed to ensure that her life didn't just completely turn upside down and fall apart.
Her phone buzzed three times, indicating a email. She opened it quickly, wanting to get the scolding out of the way as quickly as possible.
Are you on your way back?
EM
Lena snorted. She wished. Oh, how she wished.
No.
LE
Silence.
It would come. Eventually, it would come. The disappointed email. The anger. She just had to wait for it. Elliott was never one to sugar-coat his feelings about employee incompetence.
Would she even have a job when she returned to the city? Elliott was known for being mercurial. For being merciless. For hiring and firing without much consideration. Everyone was, essentially, replaceable.
But this wasn't really even about work. It wasn't like she somehow managed to screw up some multi-million dollar deal. He wanted her to find out about the inn for sentimental reasons. For his wife. She wasn't entirely sure if that would make him less, or more, angry with her.
Maybe it had really just been a passing whim. Something he wouldn't really care about in the long run. He could buy Hannah every inn on the east coast. He could buy her the entire east coast probably. What was one inn in the long run?
But Stars Landing was Hannah's hometown. She had grown up with all the people she had just spent the last week meeting. Genuinely liking. Maybe it was where they finally admitted they loved each other. Or the first place they had sex. Or where he proposed. Or some other meaningful milestone in their romance.
He wasn't the kind of man who loved easily. In fact, she wouldn't normally be able to picture her stern, severe boss being in love if she hadn't seen it with her own two eyes. Anytime Hannah walked into the room, his eyes found her, they lost some of their intensity, they looked dreamy almost. She couldn't count the times she had just happened upon them kissing or holding each other when they thought they were alone.
That man really loved that woman.
And there was no way he was going to let her fucking up owning a part of that love go without some sort of comment. Some consequence for her actions.
Oh, god. What if she actually lost her job? It wasn't something she had even let herself consider in the past. She worked her ass off fourteen, sixteen, eighteen hour days to make herself indispensable to the company. There was no chance of being let go.
But if she screwed up really badly on a personal level... and he was pissed...
And she would be left without a reference. What good would it do for her resume if she put on it that she had actually worked for the head of a fortune 500 company, if she had no recommendation to go with it? New employers would immediately smell something fishy. Her chances of rehiring in her field in an equal or greater position would drop exponentially.
It wouldn't be long before she couldn't afford her apartment, as economical as it was. It was still in the city. It was still expensive. And what would she do then? Slave away at two secretarial jobs to try to make rent? That probably wouldn't even cut it. The economy had never really improved. She would make less as a secretary now than her mother had made fifteen years ago.
And if she lost her apartment, she really only had one place to go. Back to her matchbox room in her shoe box house in her drug infested neighborhood, laying awake listening to the druggies and the homeless on the streets. Listen to her mother cry over bills. Listen to her father yell if, by some chance, he was actually home. Listen to her dreams start to fall away.
Lena pulled her knees to her chest, resting her elbows on them, and laying her head in her hands.
It was amazing how quickly everything changed. And it was devastating how easily someone could fall when it had taken them years of hard work, of merciless self-denial, of soul-sucking false optimism to get almost to the top; to see the finish line, then go flying back down before you could cross it.
A sob rose up, loud and hysterical. She put her hands over her mouth, stifling the sound which she found oddly uncontrollable. She closed her eyes, rocking back and forth as she cried. Harder than she had when she watched her mother beg for money from the meth heads next door to buy groceries, harder than the time she had watched the dogs across the street fight awfully until one of them was dead, harder than she had at every college rejection letter, harder than she had when she got the news that her father was sick.
She wiped furiously at the tears on her cheeks, her skin feeling raw and painful. She tried convincing herself that she was being dramatic. That it would be fine. She would figure out a way. She always had in the past. She was resilient. She would never let herself fall back into her old life.
But the tears wouldn't be denied. She felt out of control of her own body, her chest jerking with the sobs she found scary and uncontrollable.
And the thought of anyone happening by and finding her like that was just horrifying. Poor, deceitful Lena Edwards. Getting what she deserved. Being thrown out on the street like the trash she was.
Even though she didn't want to think the town would be that cruel. She didn't want to picture Hank the friendly grocer, or Maude the town psychic, or Sa
m and Anna the happy couple being nasty to her. She knew it was possible. Warranted even.
She deserved it. She deserved every sideways glance. She deserved every bit of humiliation they could throw her way. So what was the point in trying to hide her devastation? What was the point in trying to hide her tears?
She cried until the tears refused to come, until her insides felt dry and brittle. Until she felt like she could crack and shatter into a million little pieces. Until there was nothing left inside. Just a ever-widening hollow space. Just tear-burned skin. Just swollen, blood shot eyes greeting the coming dawn.
Fourteen
She wrapped her arms around her knees, resting her head against them and just... waiting. For hours. Lost in her own world of self-loathing and worst-case scenarios.
“Lena?” Eric's hesitant, worried voice said at her side. “Hey,” he said when she didn't respond, a sinking feeling in his stomach. “Baby. What's wrong?”
Lena took a breath, shaking her head and refusing to look at him. “I got kicked out of the inn.”
Eric crouched down next to her, his legs brushing her knees. “Had a wild party, did you?” he asked, his tone attempting levity.
Lena snorted. “No.”
“Well what happened, sweetheart?” he asked, reaching out to touch her hair.
“Emily caught be breaking into the computer system,” she admitted honestly. What was the point in lying? He would find out eventually. “She thinks I am some kind of identity thief now.”
Eric's hand stilled in her hair but didn't move. “What?”
Lena turned her head, looking at his face. Patient. Non-judgmental. Why would be be understanding when she just admitted she had committed a crime? Had his own past been so sordid that he was willing to overlook such a major indiscretion?
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