Mentally, I rolled my eyes, disgusted with myself. What was I, in junior high?
“Then maybe it’s something between you and Evan Black,” he continued. The transition was smooth, but I heard the sharpness in his voice. And when I looked at his face, I saw both anger and hurt.
“What the hell are you talking about?” I asked, but the righteous indignation I’d wanted to infuse into my voice didn’t quite make it past the guilt.
“Dammit, Angie. If you’d really wanted to go out, I would have taken you. But the Poodle Dog Lounge?”
“Wait. You followed me?” Anger had me leaping to my feet.
“If you want someone to lie to a federal agent, you need to pay them more than forty bucks.”
“You son of a bitch.” I started pacing, a blur of fury and motion. “You goddamned son of a bitch!”
My rage didn’t even faze him. “I was worried about you. Apparently I had reason to be.” He picked up his wineglass and swallowed what was left, the only sign that he wasn’t as icy calm as he looked. “Evan Black is not someone you can trust, Angie. I thought I made that clear last night. A guy like that is interested only in himself.”
I’d been pacing the small area between the tiny kitchenette and the coffee table. Now I came to a halt in front of him. “Really?” I said, lacing my voice with as much sarcasm as I could manage. “Because last night I needed to cut loose a little, and Evan was there for me. Funny that I didn’t see you there at all.”
He leaned forward, putting his head in his hands, then dragging his fingers through his short hair. “Dammit, Angie,” he said. He lifted his face to look at me, and my anger faded under the genuine hurt I saw there. “How do you think it makes me feel when you leave me to get what you need?”
I sank back into my chair, suddenly exhausted. My anger had fizzled, but now I just felt hollow, all the more so because even though we were talking about what I’d needed last night, all he could focus on was himself. About me making him feel better for not being the person who’d been there to assuage my grief. “I don’t want to do this now.”
“We’re so right in so many ways,” he continued, deaf to my protest. “Jesus, Angie. I just want you to talk to me. I just want you to tell me what you need.”
“I thought I did.”
He drew in a slow breath, then let it out carefully. “Okay. Fair enough.” He stood up and walked around the table to stand behind my chair, his hands on my shoulders. “I should have listened. I should have taken you out. I’ll do better, I’ll try harder.” He bent and kissed the top of my head. “I want us to work.”
He was barely pressing on my shoulders, and yet it felt as if he was trying to shove me into a tube that didn’t quite fit, and suddenly I knew that if I didn’t do something he’d eventually wear me down. I’d slide through that tube and what came out the other end would look like me, but it wouldn’t really be me at all anymore.
“Kevin,” I said softly. “We need to talk.”
“Okay.” He moved around the chair to face me.
“You should sit.”
His eyes narrowed slightly, but he didn’t argue, and as he seated himself on the couch again, I drew in a breath for courage.
What I should have done was tell him that it was over. That he wanted this to work, but I didn’t. Instead, I took the coward’s way out. I did what all princesses do and ran straight into daddy’s arms.
“I’m leaving,” I said. “I’m moving to Washington.”
“Washington,” he repeated.
“I’ve got a job as a legislative aide,” I explained. “And that’s not going to leave any time to think about a relationship. I’m sorry, Kevin,” I said as I stood up to punctuate the point. “I’m sorry, but this just isn’t going to work.”
ten
Alan Parker had been my uncle’s attorney for as long as I could remember. He was an ancient man with a corner office in a prestigious law firm that also handled all the corporate business for HJH&A.
I arrived at the office harried, sticky with sweat, and a full ten minutes late because I’d broken the heel on my shoe, and the elevator ride back up to the penthouse and then down again had taken far longer than I’d expected. I probably should have taken a taxi, but I’d wanted the walk and had assumed that I could make up the time.
I’d assumed wrong, and when the receptionist led me through the halls toward the conference room, I felt positively gross. My blouse was sticking to my back beneath my summer sweater and I was certain my thick hair had frizzed out.
I took solace in the fact that I would be only one among what would surely be dozens of beneficiaries, and that in the crowded conference room no one would pay me any attention at all.
But when I arrived, there was only one other person in the room. Evan.
He stood as I entered, looking as cool and polished as I looked rumpled and miserable. Then he nodded politely and sat down again. I saw no hint of the man on the dance floor. For that matter, I saw no hint of the man who’d made me cocoa and held me close. I didn’t even see the man who had walked away.
I didn’t know this Evan, and I told myself I was glad. My announcement to Kevin that I was moving to Washington may have been a knee-jerk reaction, but apparently it had been the right one. And I was struck with the urge to announce to Evan that I was leaving and that I was damn happy about it, thank you very much.
Before I had the chance, Alan came in, flanked by two younger attorneys whose faces, hair, and posture were at least as polished as their suits.