He paused to weigh up how much to tell her, then decided some details could wait.
“And then Max ran into his own troubles, so he and I started Tiluma. After some initial, unexpected success, we took a risk and moved the company to far-flung Australia, where he and I could escape our old familiar surroundings. And where, for a while there, the money and status in our new country suckered me in. I spent two years as a slave to superficial rubbish. I used all the networking jaunts and cashed-up parties as a crutch to survive, even though Tiluma could succeed without them.” He shrugged, still one hundred percent glad he’d given up on that particular part of his past. “And so, I pulled the plug on attending any needless publicity or socializing events, and I became known as a reclusive CEO.”
Agathe’s eyes sparkled up at him, like maybe she’d found something for herself in his story. “And let me guess. That’s why I found you roaming about in Roseford? You were on one of your aimless night walks, looking for trouble.”
He didn’t bother to stifle his smirk, giving her chin a playful tap with the knuckle of his thumb. “And for once, I’d say I succeeded in finding it.”
She glared as if to say, you’ve got to be joking. “More like your wayward arrow succeeded… Or nearly failed, depending on if it had actually struck me.”
“In hindsight, I don’t completely regret my poor aim that night.” It led me to you.
A cold wave of reality swelled through him. The arrow might have led him to her, but whether he would get to keep her was another issue. “But, yes, I bought the Roseford property because I wanted an escape from the city. I needed opportunities to think and to disappear. To revisit my past and re-evaluate my place in the world. I think everyone does sometimes, to varying degrees.”
Her attention slipped back to the ceiling. “I have the opposite problem.” Her voice rasped, like it struggled to move through her throat and whatever else she held so steadfast. “I don’t want to think. I’m not interested in meeting the woman I’ve become since—”
Her jaw pressed shut, and she blinked blindly ahead.
He knew what she meant.
Since Elsie died.
He lifted his opposite hand and turned her to face him. “Agathe, there’s no person alive who isn’t a complex mix of good and bad. And trust me, you’re nowhere near bad.”
Her throat bobbed with a sharp swallow.
He continued, anyway, certain she needed to hear a few home truths. “You’re strong, but more than a little lost. You also give yourself more blame than you’re due. You worry about breaking at the first shove in the wrong direction. I’ve been there, you’ve most certainly been there, broken and fragile. It’s why you avoid letting me in. I get it.” He stroked his thumb over her trembling lower lip, her gaze darting and watery, and seeming to fight to stay on him, a hint that maybe she preferred to hide away than confront his words. “But unlike the day you lost Elsie, this time, you’re not alone.”
She opened her mouth, but silence engulfed whatever she’d planned on saying. Seconds passed, and she frowned. “I’ll manage. I enjoy being alone.”
Her husky tone made him less inclined to believe her.
He shook his head. “No. No, you don’t. You’ve become accustomed to it. There’s a difference.”
Her facial features set into a façade of hard, straight lines. “Because you clearly know me better than I know myself, right?”
“No. Because I see you.” He stroked his knuckle over her chin again, willing her to relax. “And if you had a permanent mirror in front of you, you’d know what I’m talking about. It’s rare to see this face of yours looking at peace.”
He extended his fingers and caressed her cheek. Their gazes locked in a silent challenge, for her to prove to him that his touch right now had no effect on her willingness to ease up.
She huffed out a breath and turned away, taking herself away from his reach. “Okay, fine. Maybe it’s just that I want to enjoy being alone, but I don’t, and I’m trapped between holding onto grief and trying to find some quality of life.” She turned her head back to him, as though her candor came as a surprise even to her. “I’m exhausted. I want to stop running. And more than ever, I’m scared of what relaxing would mean for me. For Elsie.”
“Because you think being happy would mean leaving her behind?” His heart ached. He’d seen similar fear from his military friends. The fear of moving on. He didn’t want this for her. But maybe that fear was downright unavoidable.
Her gaze softened, and she gave a tiny nod.
“I’m afraid that moving on would involve pretending the past never happened.” Her lips formed a rigid half smile, like that admission truly hurt. “Happiness feels like selling out.”
He pushed his palm into hers and gave a gentle squeeze, before kissing the back of her hand. “What if I said we could be in this together? That you could start with me?”
“How?” She kept her tone flat. “By sleeping with you some more?”
His chest trembled with an uncontrolled laugh. Sometimes her ingrained skepticism had hilarious perks.
“No, but you’re welcome to do that too.” He unleashed a big smile, set to lead her away from all things dark and past-related. “Challenge yourself to accept a few of those acts of warmth I talked about. Stop fighting everything so much. Especially me. And best of all, bring a change of clothes to the office tomorrow, because we’re going on that date.”
23
The booths at Tiny Tokyo’s were literally tiny, and its tight seating arrangement meant Agathe’s knees rubbed up against Luke’s under the table. The dark and intimate space, along with the knee rubbing, shouldn’t have been a problem; they’d rubbed far more intimate parts before, but her tummy stirred and sank all the same, because nothing about this date felt natural.
Luke’s alluring grin spread. And watching him now, she longed to be away from this staring competition, one punctuated by food and dim lighting, and instead in his bedroom, giving him something else entirely to smile about.
“Thanks for staying back to help set up for Schneider’s meeting tomorrow.” His long fingers stroked the tips of hers on the tabletop. “You didn’t have to.”
She shrugged, tearing her gaze off his mouth long enough to poke a chopstick at a piece of salmon sashimi in front of her. “You were my date, and I had to wait around, anyway. Others helped too. I would have looked like a slacker if I didn’t join in.” He cut forth with a laugh; she gave her nose a playful wrinkle in response. “Besides, I’m going to win some major professional brownie points when Tiluma nails this. Promotion, here I come.”
She peered up to find his brows raised and his eyes narrowed, an expression marked with true challenge. “We both know that’s not the only reason you stayed back. Just like there was no real reason you stepped up when Caroline needed help with that toy owl. No reason other than you being nicer than you make out.”
A smile wobbled the corners of her lips, but she kept her tone emotionless either way, not yet certain about how much significance either of them could put on this date. “Really?”
“Yeah. You’re nice, and you also like working at Tiluma. Admit it.”
“No.” She pointed a finger at him. “You’re the nice one, remember? I’m the flaming car wreck, voted most likely to explode.”
He choked a little on a laugh. “You’re also a fraud.”
“Well, thank you, that’s the kindest thing anyone has ever said to me.” Her shoulders shook with an involuntary tremble, and just like that, a deep chuckle broke out. She took a second to calm down, then decided she could maybe afford to open her heart to him a little, even if just in a joking sort of way. “And you’re a really sweet guy, when you bother to put the effort in.”
Pine-green flecks twinkled in his eyes, and the skin at the corners creased as he beamed; even in the low light, she swore he wiped away a laughter-induced tear. “Lo intento. Sono asqueroso después de todo.”
She fell back in her seat
and clutched at her stomach, uncontrollable laughter spreading dull pain throughout her abdomen. Oh goodness, the man doesn’t know when to give up on a language he clearly can’t master. Even worse, she was in a densely packed restaurant, so she had to restrain her noise level as much as possible. “Did you really mean to say, ‘I do try. You are disgusting after all’?”
His cheeks paled, and he clapped a hand over his mouth. Though, to be honest, she was impressed she noted that much past the water in her eyes.
“I’m so sorry.” He gave his head a slow shake, indicating he needed a second to take in the carnage of what he’d said. “That’s not what I meant at all. I meant to say, ‘You are amazing after all’. Now I’m too scared to even attempt correcting myself in Spanish.”
“I think you meant asombroso, not asqueroso.” She waved a hand to tell him all was forgiven, her heart now thudding with how much fun she had around him. “The words share a lot of similar letters, but they have completely different meanings. Props for trying though.”
The stakes had risen with her agreeing to go on this date. Her days spent shying away from his sympathetic looks, jovial looks, and worst of all, his hot looks, were numbered. She would have to be bolder, more open to his companionship, but that would be her limit. There wasn’t much he could do to hurt her that life hadn’t already done. So, she could maybe afford the risk of friendship with him.
Friendship, yes. But love? Definitely not.
And worse-case scenario, she had the Schneider meeting tomorrow to distract her from Luke and her swelling heart. Plus, chances were, if the meeting went well, she’d no longer be needed at Tiluma, which would give whatever this relationship she had going with Luke some extra space.
Tread carefully, Agathe, she told herself. Remember what I used to say? “Things will never be okay.”
Her throat dried, and her cheeks burned. She had enough regret to cool her joy without being so actively sour, but then again, maybe the sour served a purpose.
She reached out and took hold of his fingers, her attempt at participating in the relationship he seemed set on trying out. “Thanks for asking me here tonight.”
There. Her first real go at thawing the ice. Initiating non-sexual physical contact and a compliment. You go, girl!
His fingers stilled over her hand. “And thanks for clearing your busy schedule for me.”
Her cheeks pulled and mirrored his grin, likely cracking what had been a worried glower. Though Luke seemed to return her affection, his look hardened and dimmed his previously glowing face.
She frowned. “What is it?”
“Given how honest you’ve been with me, there is something more I wanted to tell you.” He broke his hold on her hand. “My biggest regret.”
Her mouth dried, and she sunk back, reaching for a much-needed sip from her water glass. So much for escaping regrets.
A large part of her wished to remain ignorant, to just enjoy her night; but then the last few years had made her extra sensitive to red flags, and her earlier hope retreated—a spooked horse searching for a gate. So maybe she did need to know after all. Even if she didn’t want to.
She took a huge gulp of water and tried to play cool. “You told me about your war past. I don’t expect anything more.”
He shook his head, a muscle ticking at his jaw. “I need you to understand who I really am, if not for personal reasons, then for professional.” His stare narrowed on her, and her appetite waned.
What the hell is he getting at?
“Tomorrow is a huge deal. If things don’t pan out, and you end up regretting ever working with me, then I want you to at least understand why I couldn’t just get rid of Max.”
Foreboding snaked a path of sickness through her tummy, yet the thin sliver of hope this man gave her fought back. “Max is improving, and Daniel will wrangle him if things get out of hand tomorrow. You have nothing to worry about. I’m sure the Schneider meeting will be a success; you really don’t have to—”
His broad shoulders sagged and he turned to the scarlet silk wall hanging to her right, a dull sadness shadowing his eyes. “You don’t know Schneider like I do. He’s meticulous and has crushed companies a million times better prepared than Tiluma. A whole lot of things could go wrong tomorrow.”
Luke waited long seconds for the furrow on Agathe’s brow to ease, but it didn’t. She might have started this date nervous, and then happy, but now her momentary confidence had melted away. All because of his overwhelming need for transparency.
“What a lot of people in Australia don’t know about Max is that he planned on being a competitive open-water swimmer. It was his big dream, and everything he’d worked toward for the best part of a decade.” He tried to rush his explanation, hoping they could move on, and her laughter might return. The sweet, rare sound of that laugh had come to mean everything to him, but then again, he needed to get these details about his past out.
It wouldn’t be right to coax her into a relationship if she didn’t really know him, which was what this date was all about. And heaven knew, he damn well wanted to know everything about her. “Max and I spent our childhood racing each other in the waters off Scarborough. It didn’t matter what the waves or weather were doing. We competed against nature in all conditions, and he kicked my ass every time. If things hadn’t gone bad, if I hadn’t screwed up his life, he could have been one of the best swimmers out there. You remember I told you how I returned from war restless?”
She nodded, her pupils darkening in what was a likely mix of confusion and worry. He reached out and squeezed her hand, hoping to ease her concern.
“Well, in my despair, I took Max down with me.” He swallowed and then lowered his gaze, not wanting to see judgment in her eyes. “I was in one of my moods. The silence in my house drove me mad, and I couldn’t sit still any longer. So, I called Max and asked if he wanted to come along for a simple hike through North York National Park. I was desperate to relive our old times together, back before our father died and my future got murky. Back before life got complicated.”
He scowled at the cherry-black table surface, tight shame wafting through his chest and down his abdomen. The image of that familiar rugged coastline was as fresh as ever. “Except I was so out of my skin to chase some kind of thrill, that by the time Max arrived at my house, I’d packed the climbing equipment and planned an adventure he didn’t seem all too eager to go on.”
Agathe’s fingers curled around his. “But you made Max go anyway?”
He still refused to look up, but if he used his imagination, her gaze offered comfort and support. He deserved neither. “Yeah, Max never said as much, but I saw apprehension in his eyes. Just like everyone else, he didn’t want to upset the irritable war veteran, and so he agreed to go rock climbing, anyway. I’m sure it was his way of trying to help me, and he did help me, just at a much higher cost than I could have asked for or imagined.”
She leaned in, and he gave her a pointed stare. Her eyes narrowed in a look of hard focus. “What happened?”
He looked toward the red wall hanging, its embroidered depiction of a Japanese countryside doing nothing to soften the invisible weight on his chest. “The weather that day was wild and windy. A whole lot of rain had fallen the night before, and there were enough signs to know we shouldn’t have climbed the cliff.”
“Oh, God.” She pulled her fingers from his and pressed them to her mouth. “But you did. You climbed the cliff?”
He nodded, the swell of something nauseating sloshing around inside his belly.
“We did.” He reached out for her hand again, needing extra strength, needing to urge her toward still liking him once this story ended. “And just as I’d climbed safely to the top, I turned to see Max halfway up, and a large chunk of rock face crumble, taking him a hundred feet down with it.”
Agathe sucked in a sharp breath, her hand clutching his as if she, too, scrambled not to fall. “Max fell?”
His face tingled with heat, just as m
ore food arrived. He paused long enough for the waiter to set down their plates and step out of earshot. “Yeah, and obviously survived, but only because he happened to land on a scarce patch of shoreline not dotted with rocks. He sustained a career-ending shoulder injury, though. One that meant he was the one left suddenly aimless. And I, the one with an instant, intense drive to put things right.”
Her mouth fell open and flailed for a beat before she put forward more words. “And that’s why you started Tiluma, to give Max a new direction?”
“In a roundabout way, yes, but I’m starting to think there’s no putting this right.” He eyed his food, and his stomach churned at the thought of eating anything. Besides, he kind of wanted to get this story out and done with now. To see what kind of damage it would do to her perception of him. “Our first app was based on a joke Max made about wanting some game to take his frustrations out on, something with some poor sap he could throw downstairs, swing hammers at, and make more miserable than he was.”
Despite the general frat boy nature of Tiluma’s products, he stifled a cringe at how inappropriate this line of conversation felt for a date.
He’d never planned on being the CEO to a joke app company. To this day, he still worked to maintain the gentlemanly manner his parents had toiled so hard to instill in him. In all honesty, the whole thing didn’t exactly suit his personality, though it more than paid his bills and served a purpose for Max. “So, I took whatever money I’d saved during my military service and hired a software developer to make the totally depraved app Max had in mind. It was meant more as a gift, really. Or maybe an apology. No one ever expected it to become so popular.”
Agathe’s hand paused halfway to her chopsticks, her entire face illuminating. “You’re talking about the Sam Splat app.”
He smiled, undeservedly proud she knew the name of his first-ever app. “Yes. Max has this knack for coming up with ridiculous ideas that hit a chord with the public. We ran with his crazy concepts time and time again and gained more and more success as a result.”
The Last Heartbeat Page 17