by Jamie Beck
Irrational panic took root when she couldn’t shake the cautionary whispers. If anything, the whispers got louder, causing her eyes to sting. When an errant teardrop trickled over Alec’s thumb, he pulled away.
She mutely kept her clutch on his clothing, their labored breathing the only sound in the office.
“You’re crying.” His eyes reflected shame and concern. “I’m sorry. God, Colby. I thought . . . I must be stupid-tired.” Without hesitation, he yanked her dress back into place and zipped it up.
“Alec,” she said, but he jerked back as if burned on the stove, forcing her to release his jacket.
He shook his head. “Blame it on the champagne.”
“Alec, don’t apologize. I’m sorry.” She hugged herself. “It’s not your fault.”
Alec could barely breathe, making it difficult to focus.
Weeks of seeing her every day had churned his desire. Like a drug, it made him hallucinate invitation in her eyes. His reckless heart had abandoned caution and now lay lifeless in his chest. “It’s been an emotional night. I should’ve known better. And I broke your rule.”
“Screw the rule. I wanted you to kiss me. It’s been so long since I even had that thought, let alone acted on it. It was perfect until I got overwhelmed. Seems I’m not ready for anything more personal than friendship, no matter how much I thought—wished, even—I was.”
Her cheeks were pink, and he knew that degree of honesty probably wiped out her last bit of energy. He could hardly believe his ears. She’d wanted him to kiss her. She wanted him. Colby Cabot-Baxter liked him.
But it didn’t matter.
She remained painfully outside his reach. By her own admission, she wasn’t over Mark yet. Unlike other young widows, Colby not only mourned the loss, but she had to cope with the horrible memory of watching his suicide. That tragedy Alec might’ve prevented if only he’d have said something . . . to anyone.
Shame rushed in. Guilt. Anger at himself for thinking for one second he deserved a happy ending with her when her marriage only ended because of him.
“Let’s pretend it never happened.” He forced a light grin, hoping to dispel all awkwardness. “Like the other time.”
He wanted to scoop those last words back until he noticed Colby smile. “So you do remember that embarrassing day. I really forced you into an awkward position. Maybe I am more like my mom than I think.”
Alec could admit that he’d been her more-than-willing victim, but then she’d know that he’d pined for her all these years. No reason to make working together and being friends even more difficult. Neither of them needed a more difficult relationship in their lives. “It wasn’t so terrible.”
“Faint praise.”
“Now whose ego needs stroking?”
She grinned. “I’m glad we can tease each other about this, Alec. I wouldn’t want to hurt you or make things more awkward. I’ve been counting on this place to help me, but I didn’t count on this.” She gestured between them. “Our friendship has been an unexpected but wonderful bonus.”
“I’m glad, considering it didn’t start off on the best footing.”
“Which is why I’d hate myself for doing anything to damage it.”
“You haven’t.” If he stood there talking about it any longer, he might do or say something stupid. Time to regroup. He took the photograph she’d given him. “Thanks, again, for this. How about you let me walk you to your car?”
“Okay.” She grabbed her purse and shut off the lights.
Together they meandered through the darkened dining room in silence. Moonlight filtered through the plate-glass doors, casting blue-black light around them that enabled everything that had transpired between them to lurk in the shadows.
When they reached her car, he pecked her on the forehead. She hugged him, squeezing his waist for an extra second or two. “Thanks, Alec.”
“Drive safely.”
She looked up, and he could tell she had something to say but chose not to. Now he’d forever wonder what that was.
He repressed the “fuck it all” urge to kiss her again. To mimic guys like his brother and Mark, who’d felt entitled to take what they wanted and seized any opening to do so. But he’d never been like them. When it came to relationships, Alec always waited—for acknowledgment, respect, and love.
“Good night.” Colby slipped into the driver’s seat and started the car.
“See you later.” He stood back and watched her pull away, down the long driveway that led through the woods back to the main road.
She liked him, finally. He’d been infatuated with her for years. He wanted to surround her with his affection so she’d never feel alone. Todd had brought roses, but Todd didn’t know her. Alec could do better. He would do better. Flowers. Videos. Visits with Leslie. Hell, he’d continue praising his staff every day to make her happy, no matter how detrimental he considered that practice.
Spinning around, he caught a view of the moonbeam on the lake. It looked like the kind of thing one should make a wish upon, so he did. Of course, few of his wishes had ever come true, but he never gave up hope.
Chapter Nine
“You had no right to slur your brother.” Alec’s father slammed the newspaper onto the kitchen table, causing his mother to flinch.
Seeing his mom recoil made every muscle in Alec’s body tighten. She deserved better. For her sake, Alec strove to make peace with his father.
“I’m sorry, Dad. I didn’t mean to upset you or smear Joe’s memory.” Alec rubbed his forehead. Melissa’s article about his return and A CertainTea had garnered a slew of new reservations for the upcoming grand opening but set him back a step from his personal goals with his family. “I was talking about my perspective. My regrets.”
“Well, add this interview to that growing list,” he scoffed. “This and working for Colby, for chrissakes.”
Working for Colby might be a mistake, but not because of Joe. Alec had relived their recent kiss every ten minutes in the days since it happened. Of course, they’d both pretended to set it aside and move on, but he suspected she hadn’t found that any easier to do than he had. There were feelings there that wanted to be explored.
Too bad timing and truth stood between them. That and Alec’s father, who’d be doubly enraged to learn Alec wanted to get closer to Colby.
“Frank, settle down.” Alec’s mother took her glass to the sink and stared out the window, shoulders rounded. She’d always daydreamed in that spot, although Alec suspected she’d had more waking nightmares than daydreams these past two years. With her back to them, she said, “Stop yelling at Alec.”
“Don’t defend him. Not on this.” His dad pointed at the discarded newspaper even though she wasn’t looking. “There’s no excuse for making Joe look bad when he’s not here to tell his side.”
She whirled around, her finger jabbing the air. “Don’t you keep pushing our son away! You act like you’re the only one who lost something when Joe died. Like you have the right to control how we all deal with making peace with it.” Her voice cracked. “Let me tell you something, Frank. You don’t get to deny Alec the right to talk about his grief. And you don’t get to rain on his chance to reclaim his old life, either.”
When a sob broke through that final statement, she rushed out of the kitchen. In the distance, Alec heard her bedroom door close. He stared at the space she’d vacated, shocked. The pain in her voice had punched his chest harder than any blow his dad’s barbs could land.
“See what you’ve done now?” His father glared at him, paying no attention to his wife’s warning.
Alec could explode from anger. Lord knew he had plenty in reserve. But he wanted a family that functioned, even if it would never be whole again. He couldn’t fix what had broken between his brother and him, but as long as his parents were alive, he had a chance to fix this. He just didn’t know how. Maybe if he acted more like Joe, his father would respect him more.
What would Joe do?
Joe would fight back.
“I’m sorry I upset you, but I didn’t vilify Joe. I just explained what happened with Une Bouchée. I’ve got a shot at recovering from that, and I’m taking it. Mom’s right about one other thing. You aren’t the only one who grieves Joe’s death.” Alec stood and evenly met his father’s furious gaze. Wiping any trace of bitterness from his voice, he said, “We all know he was your favorite. But why keep pushing Mom and me away? Don’t we mean anything to you?”
“Now the melodrama.” His father gruffly waved his hand. “You should’ve pranced around the stage instead of becoming a chef.”
“You spit that out like what I do is pathetic.” The blatant prejudice practically begged Alec’s temper to join the party. “I’m outstanding in my field. And, by the way, my job requires as much stamina and discipline as yours, maybe more. You might know that if you ever bothered to take any interest in what I do.”
“Don’t be ridiculous.” His father’s derisive laugh scalded like a steam burn. “You cook, Alec. You don’t save lives. You don’t face danger.”
“Now who’s being ridiculous?” Alec scoffed. “You and Joe faced the ‘mean streets’ of Lake Sandy—shoplifting, petty theft, vandalism. Not exactly Detroit or Baltimore.”
“We weren’t making pastries!” His father’s stupefied expression might have been funny under other circumstances.
Despite his father’s reddened cheeks, Alec remained calm. In fact, they almost egged him on. With a casual shrug, he quipped, “No, just eating them in the patrol car.”
“What?” Outrage turned his dad’s face aubergine.
“You heard me.” Alec forced himself to stand tall. “People worldwide revere chefs like Roger Vergé and Alain Ducasse, yet you disdain them and me. Maybe you’re just too ignorant to appreciate us.”
“You think you’re some hotshot because you lived in Europe. Like the fact you speak French makes you better than me and your brother.” His dad snorted. “Don’t you ever call me ignorant!”
Apparently, his dad’s glass house couldn’t withstand a single pebble. Alec’s insult had shattered another attempt at reason. Maybe one day they’d manage a civil disagreement. Just not today. “Fine. Forget it.”
Alec marched out of the kitchen without looking back, even after he heard a chair crash against something. The multitude of household items held together with superglue or duct tape revealed the inventive ways his father had taken out his frustrations throughout the years. Since it had never escalated to physical abuse, Alec accepted it as his dad’s way of letting off steam. In the wake of Joe’s death, though, that temper had grown less predictable.
When Alec’s mom emerged from her room to investigate the racket, he grabbed her hand and tugged her from the house. “Come for a drive while he cools down.”
She followed him to his car in silence. He shooed Stitch out of the driveway and then drove his mother toward the new gelato shop by the park at the south end of the lake. The sun drew nearer to the horizon now, bathing the sky in striking shades of rose and lilac—a peaceful tableau at complete odds with the chaos on the ground.
Neither he nor his mom spoke for a while. He couldn’t have said much, anyway, thanks to his mental cartwheels. Who’d believe that any family lucky enough to call this picturesque town home could be living under such a cloud of despair? As he whizzed along the south shore, he wondered what ugly secrets other people in this neighborhood hid behind their quaint homes and gardens.
Absently, he also wondered if Joe could see him now. Had Joe had any regrets? Would he have been pissed at Alec for the article and the fight with their dad? Truth was, Alec wasn’t exactly proud of arguing with his father, but he wasn’t exactly sorry, either.
“I’m sorry.” His mother squeezed his hand once they took seats on the park bench overlooking the lake.
“Why are you sorry?”
“I should’ve been a better mother to my sons and not allowed the gap between you to fester.” She scraped the plastic spoon at her gelato without much interest in eating it.
“That had nothing to do with you.”
“I’m your mother, Alec. It’s my job to teach my children right from wrong. To knit a tight family.” Her forehead wrinkled with regret. “I failed.”
“You didn’t fail.” He looked across the lake. “You just drew the short end of the stick when it came to all the men in your life.”
She brushed his bangs from his forehead like she used to do when he was young. “Not with you, sweetheart.”
She only believed that because she didn’t know all his secrets. He slouched lower on the park bench and licked his cone. The explosion of flavor temporarily distracted him, although his pistachio gelato was better.
“Your father’s a hypocrite.” She set her melting dessert aside. “He always resented how his father belittled him, yet he’s done the exact same thing to you.”
“Grandpa wasn’t gruff.” In fact, Alec’s vague memories carried a definite hint of warmth. “He used to read to me and play Legos.”
“He was stoic. An engineer with a sharp head for math. But your father never worked to his potential in school, which bothered his dad to no end. Grandpa scorned your dad’s choices and career as much as your father does yours. Frank never forgave him for that.”
Alec now had a long-missing piece in the puzzle of his existence—a reason for his father’s dislike that went beyond Alec’s failings. Not only must Alec’s academic bent have reminded his dad of his own father, but Alec had also won Grandpa’s affection when his dad could not. That had to have stung, and might explain why Alec’s “ignorance” insult had been so potent.
“I could. Forgive Dad, I mean. Or, I would, anyway, if he’d meet me halfway. We’re already such a small family; we need to stick together.”
“Maybe, if Joe hadn’t died . . .” His mother squeezed his hand. “I can’t live with the gloom much longer. I ache, too, but there are still beautiful adventures ahead if we embrace them, like travel, and grandchildren.”
Her wish for a grandchild floated like a leaf in the breeze, landing silently between them. His mother would be a loving, patient grandmother. If he could hand her that gift now, he would. Instead, he sat there, holding her hand, hoping he could be enough for her.
Together they watched a few young kids and moms packing up their things after a day at the public beach.
“I remember bringing you two down here when you were little.” His mother’s eyes watered as she traveled back in time. “You’d work so diligently, building structures out of this muddy sand, and no matter how many times Joe messed them up when trying to help, you never once got mad. You were so patient with him.”
Alec’s last bite of gelato barely slid past the lump in his throat. His memories of those summer outings were mostly sad because of how things had changed over the years. None of his patience had amounted to much with Joe at the end of the day.
Would his parents’ marriage be another casualty of Alec’s lie and Joe’s stupid jump? So far, he hadn’t done jack shit to improve his family situation. He hadn’t the faintest idea of his next move, either.
Moments like this made him second-guess everything. Rebuilding his reputation would be meaningless in the face of his family’s deterioration. But with Colby . . . the prospect of her affection kept him from throwing in the towel. Of course, even that would be based on a lie.
“I’m glad you stuck with our tradition today. You could use some sun.” Sara elbowed Colby and smiled, then tugged her into yet another jewelry booth.
Every July except the one last summer, they’d attended the annual Sunday Sidewalk Sale in the Pearl. Thousands of people poured into the neighborhood as local shops and restaurants set up tents or tables filled with discounted items. In nearby Jamison Square—a square-block-size urban park bordered by a tree-lined, wood-slatted sidewalk—kids squealed while playing in the expansive water fountain and dancing to the dulcet tones of a local folk band. Idyllic, i
f it weren’t for her memories.
Last year she couldn’t make herself return to her and Mark’s old neighborhood. Today she forced it, although she’d avoided looking any farther north. Still, recollections kept bursting through her subconscious like pinpricks. These streets held history she couldn’t quite face without feeling a little faint and sweaty.
“Sorry I couldn’t make it earlier.” Colby eyed a bunch of purses hanging in front of one tent, forcing her mind to focus on the here and now. “Brunch didn’t shut down until three.”
They’d packed a full house today. Early success had given her a heady feeling. Almost as heady as finding a dainty crystal bud vase on her desk with a single pink tulip this morning. Alec hadn’t said anything, but she knew he’d done it. A bold move. One that had flustered her into silence. Now she felt silly for not thanking him.
“It’s fine. I shouldn’t shop too long anyhow.” Sara fingered earrings hanging on a jewelry tree, refraining from coddling Colby or pressing her to talk. She didn’t intrude into other people’s personal affairs, instead offering unwavering support in a gentle, silent way. “The restaurant had an excellent first weekend, right?”
“Totally booked, and next week and weekend are booked solid, too. That article sparked a lot of interest.” A proud grin spread. Together, she and Alec just might make A CertainTea the place to eat. He’d said others had lost faith in him, but she couldn’t believe no other restaurant owner wanted him. No. He’d chosen her over others, and, selfishly, she was glad.
“Too bad it also sparked problems for Alec and his dad.” Sara sighed, her gaze continuing to scan the accessories on display.
“It did?” Colby’s grin faded. Alec hadn’t mentioned that when he’d been sending her funny videos and surprising her with her favorite flowers. Maybe it wasn’t her business, but the fact he’d hidden it from her niggled. It also reminded her of how much easier Alec’s life would be if he worked for someone—anyone—else.