Angel Song (27 page)

“Yeah, they did. They had no idea at the time that life as they knew it was about to change forever.” He shook his head and turned around, leaning against the wall. “Now it’s time to get you something to eat before we continue on.”

“Sushi?”

“Not a chance. We told Keith we’d bring him with us when we ate sushi, and there’s no way I’m doing it twice. So . . . as I was saying, after our non-sushi dinner, we’re going to
your
Charleston.”

Ann was already starting to feel like she belonged. That thought frightened her more than anything she’d yet faced.

Ethan had considered taking Ann to Café Lisa. At one point, he’d thought he would take her there if he ever got the courage to ask for a date. But now . . . well, it was probably better not to do anything that might be construed as romantic.

Tonight, it would be Hominy Grill. A diner atmosphere, well lit, lots of noise. Perfect for what he needed. When he opened the door, the cowbell on the inside handle announced their entrance.

Ann walked in, turned the bell over in her palm, and looked up at him. “Nice touch.”

“What can I say? ‘Nothing but the best’ is my motto.”

She laughed. “Alrighty then.” She turned and started walking toward an empty booth near the back. Not good.

“Hey, wait.” Ethan reached out and grabbed her elbow. “You want to sit at the counter? It captures more of the essence of the place.”

“I think there’s plenty of essence a few more yards away from the grease-splattering, order-calling, coffee-pouring action.” Ann continued in her original direction and slid into the booth. “Besides, if we sit here, we have our own personal mini jukebox. How much more atmosphere can you get than that?” She flipped over the song list as Ethan sat down across from her. “Lots of Elvis to choose from.”

“Great, just great.” Ethan locked his hands behind his neck and tried to stretch out some tension. When he looked up, Ann was staring at him.

“So, you mind telling me what’s going on?”

“What do you mean?”

“Come on, Ethan, you’ve been acting all weird ever since I’ve been back. Did I do something to make you angry? Are you regretting that you offered to help? What exactly is it?”

Ethan unwrapped his silverware from the paper napkin. “You don’t miss much, do you?”

“You’re changing the subject.”

Yeah, he’d tried anyway. “It’s nothing really.” This was going to be embarrassing. “I, well, it’s just that I’d been thinking about asking you out, and I really, really wanted to, and then, just about the time I got up my nerve, I found out that you’re not a believer. And, well, now that changes everything.”

“What, so I’m like a leper or something?”

“No, you’re not like a leper. You’re amazing. But . . . we’re heading in different directions. We don’t share the same future.”

“So, wait, I guess I misunderstood. I thought you were talking about a
date
. I didn’t realize we were planning the future.”

Oh, she was getting worked up now. This was going to get ugly fast. “Several years ago I was dating someone. I knew she didn’t share my beliefs, but I figured that in time, she’d come to love God too. I suppose she must have been thinking the same thing. Things started getting serious between us, but there was a wall separating us at the very core of who we were. Long story short, it ended badly. My past experience alone would be enough to scare me off.” He tried to look at her, but his gaze stopped at her Diet Coke and would go no higher.

She sat quietly for a few minutes, her fingers toying with the bend in her straw. “You know, I’ve got issues back in New York too. Neither of us needs the complication of this becoming anything more than it is, but I really do enjoy our . . . well, our friendship, I guess.” She took a sip of her soda and said, “How about this? Can’t we work together—even have some fun together—if I promise to keep my hands to myself?” She held up her hands in mock surrender.

The tension melted right out of him. “Well . . .” He paused a few seconds for effect. “I’m just not sure you’re strong enough—my good looks and charm alone are enough to make me irresistible. Add the fancy places I take you for dinner”—he gestured around the room—“I know how you New York women really go for that kind of stuff, and I’m just not sure you can control yourself.” They both laughed then. Ethan extended his hand. “Friends?”

Ann clasped it across the table. “Friends.”

“Okay, from this point on, you’ve got to keep your eyes closed. No peeking.”

“Come on.” Ann tried to sound grumpy but seriously doubted she was pulling it off. “How long will this phase last?”

“Not telling.” They had just climbed into Ethan’s truck, and he’d made her close her eyes before he pulled out of the parking lot.

“Please tell me it doesn’t involve tour guides dressed in hoop skirts. Blah.” Ann shuddered at the thought.

“Not telling.”

They drove for several more minutes; then Ethan said, “We’re here. Eyes shut tight now. I mean it.”

Ann could feel the truck turn sharply; then it stopped and the engine went quiet. It took every bit of self-control not to sneak a through-the-lashes kind of peek.

“Stay put and don’t even think about cheating. I’m coming around to get you.”

Ann heard her door open; then Ethan’s hand was on hers as he pulled her from the truck. He put his arm around her shoulder to guide her, and she couldn’t help but lean a little closer.

“Walk forward, good girl, nice and steady. Now step up. A couple more steps.” He stopped walking. “Okay, you can open them.”

Ann opened her eyes to find herself staring at the two diamond-shaped towers of the Arthur Ravenel Bridge. Suspension lines fanned down from the top of each tower, creating two triangles of webbing that reminded Ann of a sailboat. Light washed over the scene, both from the setting sun and from man-made floodlights shining from beneath. It was breathtaking. “Wow.”

“I thought this might be a bit more to your liking. I know you’re not a big historical girl, and things just don’t get much more modern than this beauty—even if it’s not black, white, and chrome.”

Ann laughed. “Maybe they should have consulted me about that part.” She craned her neck to look up. “It reminds me of the skyscrapers back in New York.”

“Yeah. I saw on some documentary that these towers reach to 575 feet, so it can hold its own in height against a few New York City buildings. The Waldorf Astoria Hotel is about 625 feet high. So not that different at all—just a lot less crowded.”

“You know how tall the Waldorf Astoria is?”

Ethan shrugged. “Just read an article about it this week. That building is a historic landmark, you know. I must admit, there are some buildings with character in your part of the world.” He paused for a minute, looking at the bridge. “Did you know that it’s the longest cable-stayed bridge in the country? Built to withstand hurricanes, earthquakes, and the occasional ship collision. She’s a beauty, isn’t she?”

“Yes, she is.” Ann had seen pictures of the bridge on the news and in print, but she hadn’t seen the real thing, never having been to this side of Charleston since the bridge was built a few years ago. “It’s funny that I haven’t even thought about going into Mount Pleasant since I’ve been here. I think it’s because my subconscious still recoils from the thought of driving the old bridge.”

“I always found it kind of thrilling myself—fear and fascination rolled into one. Sort of like riding a roller coaster.”

“Except that with most roller coasters you have the reasonable expectation of finishing alive. Something about those narrow lanes and the way they shook when you drove over them, well . . . no thank you.” Ann shuddered at the memory. “This one’s amazing, though. Truly beautiful.”

“I think that’s particularly true right about now. Just as the sun is starting to fade. You want to walk across it? There’s a nice walking-biking path on the harbor side.”

“I think I’d love it.”

The two of them walked across, in no hurry, simply enjoying the view, the sunset, and each other. When they got to the first of the towers, Ann stopped and put her hands on one of the massive beams. “I can’t believe I haven’t driven out here to look at it before.”

“See, there’s more to Charleston than just the past. There’s the future too.”

“Perhaps, but I think this bridge proves
my
point, that the old is best demolished and forgotten.”

“Wrong again. If the engineers had tried to ignore past bridges rather than learn from their mistakes, well . . . we’d be standing on another narrow, bumpy bridge, now, wouldn’t we?”

“Do you always have an argument for everything?”

“Not always, only when I’m right—which, of course, I am most of the time. Someday you’ll come to appreciate my genius.”

“I wouldn’t count on that if I were you.” Even as she said it, Ann realized it was becoming less true with every passing minute.

Chapter 31

Sunday morning Ann found herself moping around the house. Ethan, her “friend,” had promised to come over after church, which was hours from now.

Well, there were plenty of things to be done around here. She knew she needed to sort through Sarah’s things, but she just wasn’t ready to do that yet. So she decided to spend the morning cleaning out the kitchen cabinets as a warm-up. There would be traces of her sister, but nothing too personal. She grabbed Ethan’s baseball cap—complete with pewter tankard stripe—and stuck it on her head. It would keep her hair out of her face while she worked.

Billy Joel sang on her iPod while she reorganized the silverware drawer and refolded the kitchen towels. Then, she sprinkled Comet in the kitchen sink, watched the porcelain turn a brighter shade of white as she scrubbed, and noted that the bleachy smell made her think of fresh starts. As she rinsed the last of the white paste down the drain, she looked out the kitchen window.

Odd. Tammy’s car was still in the driveway. Why wasn’t she at church?

Ann took a sip of water. A dark ache entered her core as she looked across the lawn. Something was wrong; she could sense it.

When she reached the door, she knocked softly. No response. She knocked harder. Then harder. Then an all-out pounding. “Tammy, Keith, Tammy—”

Tammy answered the door, still wearing a pale blue nightgown. There were dark circles under her eyes. “Hi, Ann.”

“Tammy, what’s wrong?”

She shrugged. “Keith’s not feeling very well. He was up a lot last night coughing and wheezing—he gets that way from time to time. Today I’m just letting him sleep in.”

“Oh, and you were resting too. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you. It’s just that I saw your car in the driveway and knew that something must be wrong.”

“No, it’s okay. I was up.”

“Do you need me to drive you to the doctor or anything? Go pick up some groceries?”

“You’re every bit as sweet as your sister.” She reached over and squeezed Ann’s hand. “We really don’t need anything.” She smiled so warmly that Ann felt tears forming behind her eyes. “I talked to the doctor. He said he’ll see us in his office first thing in the morning if Keith isn’t feeling better.”

Ann nodded. “Isn’t there anything I can do to help you?”

“Let me go see if he’s awake. I know he’ll want to see you if he is.” She returned a moment later. “He’s asleep, and the poor thing needs his rest. I’ll let him know you were here.”

Ann nodded and turned to leave. “Are you sure there’s nothing I can do?”

“Honey, you’ve done it already, just by being here.”

Ann walked out, thinking that she was completely unworthy of whatever it was that Tammy and Keith thought they saw in her.

Back at the house, Ann puzzled over the overwhelming sense of belonging she’d felt during this visit. The way these people all seemed to love her, in spite of the fact she knew she didn’t deserve any of it. It made her . . .
homesick
.

Her cell phone jangled from inside her purse. Maybe Ethan had decided to skip church and was calling to say he was on his way. She was smiling as she answered. “This is Ann.”

“Yes. It is. And aren’t I glad about that?” He paused just long enough for the reality to set in. “Since you’ve run out on me again, I thought I’d better call and make certain you’re still thinking of me.” Patrick Stinson’s voice sounded hard, threatening almost.

“Oh, you’ll just have to keep wondering about that.” She kept her tone light. “I will say that I have your project well under control. In fact, I’ve spent the last couple of days checking out paint samples.” Ann looked at the new colors on her wall. “Definitely making progress.”

“Good, I was hoping I wasn’t far from your mind. I like to know that your priorities are in the right place.”

The flatness of his tone, the undercurrent of threat—they were so far removed from the warmth she’d experienced at Tammy’s house just moments ago. Still, warm fuzzies did nothing to move her toward her goal, toward fulfilling her promise to Sarah and Nana. “I’d say my priorities are exactly where they should be.”

“Perfect. I’ve been thinking about us and our future partnership, and it seems to me that with all your recent travels, we have not properly cemented our relationship.”

“That’s right. We still haven’t signed a contract, have we? That is something we definitely need to do.” She’d deliberately misunderstood him, hoping to buy herself some more time and to remove from the table the threat of losing this job altogether.

He paused just a second. “No. I was thinking more about our personal relationship. It’s important to me to have a strong bond before I start doing business with someone. Your frequent absences seem to have prevented us from connecting the way I’d like for us to.”

Ann was not naive enough to have any doubt about his meaning. This was an ultimatum—not even stated in a false romantic light. Still, if she remained vague in her answers, she might be able to keep her options open. “It won’t be much longer. My house is almost ready to go on the market.”

“That’s great news. When are you coming back to New York?”

“Tomorrow afternoon.”

“How about this, then? Tomorrow night we’ll have dinner, go to a show, maybe even a little dancing. You like to dance, don’t you, Ann? After a nice evening of celebrating our partnership, we’ll all meet at the office on Tuesday morning and sign the contracts.”