FullDisclosure (3 page)

Evan stuffed his hands in his pockets. “Okay, let me put it this way. All I can offer you right now is the
very
occasional rendezvous at the cabin. I can’t risk getting together in the city. There are things going on at the office that are…fragile. Complicated and fragile, and I can’t risk someone finding out about us.” He gave Jake a long, lingering look. “Can you accept that? Are you happy with that?”

“No,” he said frankly. “I want more. I felt like you wanted more too.”

“Well, what I want and what I can have are two different things.”

“They’re only different because you choose to make them different.”

Evan sighed heavily. “Jake…”

“Fuck. What about that woman at the restaurant? Sadie. What does she have to do with this?”

“With this? Nothing.”

“But you have a history with her, obviously. Was it an affair? What?”

“No. It wasn’t an affair. She was…a friend. Or rather the wife of a friend.” To his horror, the backs of his eyes began to burn with tears at the memory of his old friend. But he managed to battle them back.

“And they divorced on bad terms, or what?”

“No. If only.” Evan swallowed his reservations and spat it out. “Philip died. Actually he was murdered, and she was convicted of the crime.”

That took the wind out of Jake’s sails. “Oh. Holy shit.”

“Unfortunately she was innocent.”

Now Jake’s eyes went really wide. “Oh!”

“She served four years before they uncovered new evidence that exonerated her. That was a year ago.”

Jake waited, sensing there was more.

There was. This was the hard part. “She wrote to me just before her release, asking for my help. She had no one on the outside. No family and no friends who could help or would have anything to do with her, so she came to me.”

“And you turned her down.”

Evan couldn’t blame Jake for judging him. He’d been judging himself just as harshly—perhaps more so—ever since he’d shoved her letter in the back of a drawer in his desk, unanswered.

“I sympathized with her. I really did. And I regretted the horrible things I had thought about her. But I just couldn’t get involved. I had my reasons.”

“And you still have your reasons. Just like you have your reasons for ditching me.”

“I’m not ditching you, Jake! I just need to…cool things off for a while.” He couldn’t take it anymore. He moved in close to Jake, close enough that their chests touched and he got a hit of that wonderful cologne. “Just because you love something doesn’t mean you can have it.” He brushed his lips across Jake’s, hoping to hell that nobody on the street could see them in the shadows. “Or should have it.”

Their eyes met and held. “You love me,” whispered Jake.

Evan didn’t reply. He couldn’t.

“Well, for what it’s worth, I love you too.”

Evan stepped back. What it was worth to him and whether it changed anything were two completely separate issues. Neither of which he wanted to acknowledge. “I need to get out of here. Let’s go find a cab.”

But Jake wasn’t done. “So it’s just about appearances then. It’s all about the business and saving face with the board.”

No
, he wanted to scream. That wasn’t the whole of it, at all. Not by a long shot. But the real reason was too complicated and too hard to share. And nothing Jake could say or do would change any of that. So he’d let Jake believe the worst of him. Probably better that way, anyway. Probably better that Jake hate him. It would certainly be easier.

“I have to go,” he said again, stepping into the light of the street. “You coming?”

Jake shoved his hands in his pockets and looked at Evan in a way that made his heart ache. “No. I think I’m in the mood for some stew.”

Evan stared at him, allowing the implication to filter through. “Sadie? You’re going back to see her?”

“So what if I am? It’s none of your business.”

“For God’s sake, Jake. Please. Please stay out of this.”

Jake stepped closer, growled under his breath. “There’s a woman back there who needs help. Someone who got screwed by the system and obviously
deserves
some help. And if I decide to be the one to give it to her, that’s none of your damn business.”

Evan’s mouth gaped. He was furious. He just wasn’t sure who he was furious with. Jake—or himself.

He was still debating that question as he watched Jake’s back retreat down the street toward Maggie’s Place.

“Hey!”

Sadie tore her gaze away from the counter she had been diligently wiping for the last five minutes.

“Yeah,
you
. You stupid bitch.” The insults were coming from a group of boys wearing suspicious-colored bandanas. She hadn’t noticed them come in. “Could we get some fucking
service
over here?”

“Sure. Sorry.” She scrambled for the coffeepot and her pad. She had been completely immersed in thoughts of Evan, as well as the young man with him. They had made such a striking pair. The kind of men who took your breath away all on their own—let alone together. But that wasn’t the true cause of her distraction.
Evan.

They had been friends once. He had been the kind of friend she had thought she could count on. And for a time she had. Silly of her to think that kind of loyalty and caring would last through a prison term. It hadn’t lasted for anyone else. Why would he be any different?

Even though she could feel tears of absolute exhaustion and frustration pressing against the backs of her eyes, she plastered on her brightest smile. “Coffee?” She was so damn sick of that question.

“Nah. No coffee.” The three leaned back in their booth, looking her up and down and trying desperately to look cool. It was pathetic.

“Okay. So what can I get you boys then?”

“How about a better-lookin’ waitress?” said the only one who looked old enough to vote.

She sighed.

“You look like shit, lady,” said another.

“Yeah. What happened to Monica?”

“She’s off today.” She tamped down her anger. “Look. What matters in here is how the food looks. Not how the waitresses look.” She pulled out her pad. “So what do you want to look at?”

The oldest leaned forward and sneered. “How about your lips on my dick.”

Before Sadie could respond, she felt a strong arm wrap around her shoulders. “How about the three of you take a good look at the exit sign and then follow the arrow
outside
!” It was Evan’s friend. Sadie was so shocked she couldn’t speak.

“Hey, asshole.” The oldest slid out of the booth and poked a finger in Jake’s chest. “Who the fuck died and made you God? You can’t order us around.”

“The hell I can’t.” Evan’s friend lowered his voice, yet somehow it sounded bigger. In fact he seemed bigger. At that moment he seemed to fill the room. “And I’m telling you to leave this lady alone and get the fuck out of my sight.”

“Hey, man, we’re paying customers.”

“You heard the man.” It was Lenny, the owner. He was yelling at them from behind the counter. “We don’t serve your kind in here. Get the hell out before I call the cops.”

That completely deflated the boys’ bravado. “Fuckin’ asshole,” was murmured numerous times as they skulked their way out the door.

Because she didn’t trust herself to meet his gaze, Sadie kept her eyes low. “Thanks, but that was completely unnecessary. I handle this kind of thing all the time.”

He touched a finger under her chin and forced her eyes to his. “Well, that’s not right. You shouldn’t have to.”

“And you,” added Lenny. “You can get out too.”

“What?” cried Sadie, whirling to face him. “He was just trying to help.”

“What he was
doing
was stirring up trouble. I don’t like
his
kind either.” He snorted. “Fuckin’ metrosexual.”

She was incredulous. “But Lenny—”

“But nuttin’. You get back to work. You been movin’ like a slug all day.” He pointed at her savior. “And
you
get the hell out. I don’t need no butt-fuckin’ going on in my bathroom.”

Fortunately Lenny assumed they would do as he said and walked away. Sadie didn’t know if she’d ever felt so furious—or so hopeless. A tear slipped down her cheek. “I’m so sorry. He’s such a jerk. He thinks every man who dresses nicely is gay.”

His smile was warm and his voice laced with resignation. “That’s okay. I’ve dealt with
his
kind before too.”

“You heard him. You better go.” She grabbed his hand. “But thanks. It’s been a long time since—”

“Come with me.”

She frowned. “Huh?”

“I want to talk to you. No. I
need
to talk to you. And you don’t need to take this kind of abuse.” He glared at the kitchen door that had swung shut behind Lenny. “Nobody does.”

“Maybe not. But I do need the money.”
Desperately.

He squeezed her hand. “Let me worry about that.”

“That’s crazy. I can’t let you do that. I—”

“I won’t take no for an answer.” He glanced at the door, as if looking for something. “Evan sent me.
He
won’t take no for an answer.”

That little tidbit stole her breath. And it changed everything. “Oh…okay. I don’t understand but…okay.”

His smile chased all her doubts away. “Excellent. Let’s go.”

“Wait. I need my jacket. It’s in the kitchen.”

He stopped her. “I don’t want you going near that asshole. Here…” He slipped off his jacket and draped it over her shoulders. “Take mine until we can get you another one.” He was already herding her toward the door.

She was about to protest, to say that she should really give her notice to Lenny. At least tell him she was leaving. There were customers and she would be leaving him in a bind. But then she recalled all the insults he had hurled at her and the tips he had stolen and she decided against it. Slipping out like this, in the company of her own personal knight with his denim jacket that smelled of Polo cologne draped over her shoulders, was just too much temptation to resist.

After grabbing her purse, which was stashed behind the counter, they stepped into the street and the door to Maggie’s Place made a satisfying slam of finality behind them.

Evan stepped through the door of his condo and allowed it to click quietly closed behind him. He took a moment, allowing himself to decompress after what had been—what the hell had that been? Things with Jake hadn’t gone at all as he had hoped. And Sadie. “Shit,” he sighed. “Sadie.”

He’d made a choice with Sadie, and although it wasn’t one he was proud of, what was he supposed to do? He’d spent years wondering if Sadie had killed one of his best friends, believing that she had lied to him. Used him. There had always been a part of him that doubted, that couldn’t believe she was capable of that. Then again, everybody had their limits, and maybe—just maybe—she had been driven to hers.

He just hadn’t known, hadn’t been sure, and he hated not knowing. It had haunted him. And then a year ago all that had changed. All his doubts had been confirmed, his questions answered. And Sadie had been freed.

But then what? Overnight, he was just supposed to forget everything? She’d been in prison. She was a different person than she had been. She had to be. And Philip was gone. How could he just take her back into his life as if nothing had happened? And what about his business, his colleagues—his family? So much had been hanging in the balance a year ago. And even now so much depended on his good reputation and his standing in the community and the business world. Contact with Sadie would have jeopardized all that. And back then—as now—he couldn’t take that risk.

He shook off thoughts of Sadie. He couldn’t deal with that now, couldn’t deal with thoughts of what she was possibly telling Jake at that very moment.

He crossed to the small oak bar in the corner of the living room and poured himself a couple of fingers of scotch. He settled himself in supple leather, his body sinking deep into the soft cushions of his favorite chair. Jake had helped him pick it out several months ago, on a trip to Montreal. It was the only time they’d ever gone away together. It had been so good. Too good.

The scotch seared its way down his throat. This chair was the only piece of furniture in this opulent showplace of a condo that truly made him feel at home. And Jake had been a part of that. In fact Jake had encouraged him to do the one thing he’d never seemed to have the energy to do—to redecorate, or possibly even move. To make a concerted effort to put a painful past with two opportunistic and pretentious ex-wives behind him.

He had listened too. He’d decided to do it. He’d been
that
close. He’d literally had his finger poised to dial the realtor when the phone had rung—and everything had changed.

“Dad?” said a sleepy voice. “When did you get back?”

“Here.” Jake—she’d finally learned his name—held up his prize. He’d gone rooting through his drawers in search of something suitable for her to wear. Apparently over the years a few girlfriends had left behind various items of clothing and he’d thought it prudent to keep them around—for emergencies.