Kiss of Ice (St. James Family) (16 page)

Chapter 19

1 Month Later

Annata stepped into the foyer of the restaurant and swept her eyes across the dining room. She didn't realize she was holding her breath until she saw him. He was sitting at the bar, those broad shoulders unmistakeable. All the air in her lungs came out in a whoosh. She studied his profile as he lifted a drink to his lips. He was just as handsome as ever. Not seeing him for six months had only made him look better in her eyes, if that was possible. She ran her hand through her hair, then made her way over to him.

“Can I get a vodka tonic, please?” she asked the bartender as she slid into the seat beside him. His eyes widened, then a smile spread across his lips as he recognized her voice. He set his empty tumbler on the bar and slowly turned to her. She smiled back at him, hoping to appear more confident than she really felt. “Christophe Van der Kind.”

“
Annata St. James,” he said, resting his head on his hand. The lines on his face relaxed as he studied her. He was happy to see her, she realized. Thank God. “How long have you been back, and why was I not aware?”

“
Don't worry, you don't have to fire anyone. I flew in this morning, and found out where you were from your assistant.” The bartender set her drink on a white napkin and slid it over to her. She gestured to Christophe. “Put it on his tab.” The bartender nodded.

“
I guess they're not paying you much in Hong Kong,” he said. “One more for me please,” he said to the bartender.

“
They're paying me enough.” She took a sip of the drink. Hong Kong had been a windfall for her, actually. She finally had enough to purchase her townhouse. But she didn't tell him that. She didn't want him to know she was planning on returning to the city just yet. “I'll get dinner, if you'll have me.”

“
Oh, I'll have you,” he said, under his breath. She licked her lips, feeling the tingle of the lime from her drink. “So.”

“
So.” She slipped off her purse and hung it on the back of the barstool. She adjusted her dress and crossed her legs, her knee brushing his.

“
Are you still mad at me?” he asked, his eyes making a slow sweep from her ankle to her face. The bartender returned with his drink. Christophe thanked him, his eyes not leaving her face.

“
No.” She shook her head, embarrassed as she remembered her outburst last New Year's. Her anger had subsided, but the hurt remained. “The writing was on the wall as soon as you came back from Brazil. I just didn't want to admit it.”

“
You had every right to expect that my father would honor your commitment to International. It was a shitty thing he did.”

“
It wasn't all William's doing, as I remember it.” She took another sip of her drink. Christophe worked his jaw, but said nothing. “But I've moved on. And you've done well. I have to admit, for awhile, I was hoping you'd fall flat on your face.” She smiled at him, and he chuckled. She gave him a once over. He carried an aura of power now that he'd only hinted of before. He seemed bigger, like he owned the room. “Success suits you.”

His smile dimmed. “I'm not going to say I don't like being successful. It's been hard and I've earned every inch I've gained. The old man doesn't let anything come easy.  But I'd be lying if I said that I'm happy.” He took a deep drink.

“Well, no one said business makes you happy,” she said, lightly. “But it's something to do.”

“
You know what kills me?” He sat up, loosening his tie. “You think you want something so bad, and then when you get it, you pour yourself into it, lose yourself in it, and in the end—it doesn't mean shit.” He drummed his fingers on the bar. Annata clenched her hand, resisting the urge to touch him.  “How's Hong Kong?”

Annata cleared her throat, unprepared for the change in the conversation. “Um, well it was great. Beautiful actually. The weather was amazing, and there was so much to see.” She hadn't had to focus on herself at all in Hong Kong. There was so much to do and so much stimulation. She barely had time to feel, let alone think about New York. But at night, when it was quiet...she shook her head. That was past. “I liked consulting. It's not as all consuming as running a company. Not that I'm not ready to get my hands dirty again.”

“So you have a new job on the horizon?” Something flashed behind his eyes.

“
I have some offers on the table. I'm just figuring out which way I want to go.” She waved her hand, dismissive. “But I'm headed back to Hong Kong in two days, for another month.” She left out the part that she was looking at real estate in the city for the two days she was grounded. In fact, she had already seen two townhouses in Harlem that day.

“
Two days?” he asked.

“
Today and tomorrow,” she said. He chuckled to himself, but the sound was devoid of humor.

“
And you've penciled me in for dinner tonight?” He drained his glass.

“
I thought we could have dinner, yes.” Annata could tell he was angry. She reached out and finally let herself touch him. She wanted him to know that she wasn't trying to stir up past emotions. She just couldn't NOT see him, no matter how desperately she wanted to be over him. As soon as the plane touched down, his name kept echoing in her mind. It got louder and louder until she called his assistant and found out where he was. She let her fingers brush his wrist. He stilled under her touch. “I wanted to see you,” she said.

“
Why?” he asked, his voice dangerously low.

“
Because,” she said, searching  for the right answer. “Because I didn't like the way we ended things.”

“
You
ended things,” he said. “You moved across the fucking world and didn't talk to me for six months. Well, except for a call in the middle of the night when you needed me to do something for you.” He shook his head, looking everywhere but at her. Annata leaned closer to him, wanting to keep their conversation as private as possible in such a public place. She could already see people glancing at them out of their corner of their eyes. And she was pretty sure they all knew who Christophe was.

“
I was angry. And I apologize. You know how thankful I am that you could check on my sister for me.”

“
Fuck you, Annie,” he said, turning away from her. Then he turned back. “How dare you come in here and act like we're just two people in a bar. Like we're just shooting the shit. 'My life is great! How's yours? Oh, that's wonderful.' It's bullshit. It's fucking bullshit.” He motioned for the bartender. Annata bit her lip to stem the tide of words that were trying to force their way out. She did not want to have a blow out in public. “Check. Please,” he said to the bartender. She saw her exit.

Annata grabbed her purse and slid out of her chair.  The heat of the summer night hit her face as soon as she stepped out of the cool restaurant. She walked blindly, not knowing where she was going, just wanting to get away from him. A hand grasped her arm and whirled her around.

“You're not getting off that easy,” Christophe said, his face inches from hers. “This is your night. You planned it. Where are we going for dinner?”

“
You're making a scene,” she bit out, trying and failing to yank her arm out of his hold.

“
I don't give a shit. This is New York City.
No one
gives a shit.” She glanced around at the people walking around them, the flow of sidewalk traffic uninterrupted by their little drama.

“
So you're angry at me. You want to yell and scream and stamp your foot. Go for it.” She shifted her hips and steeled herself.

“
Goddammit, Annie. Don't patronize me.”

“
I'm all ears.” She patted his chest with her free hand. “Go 'head, honey. Tell mama all about it.” She heard the Southern coming up in her condescending tone. But she couldn't stop herself now. She was too angry. He clenched his fist and stepped closer to her.

“
You are such a —!” He stopped himself, pressing his fist to his mouth.

“
What? I'm such a what?” She stepped to him, getting in his face. “Say it.”

“
No. Forget it. And you can forget this quaint little dinner you planned, so that you could assuage your guilt over leaving me.” He dropped her arm and jammed his hands in his pockets. “It's not happening.”

“
You think I feel guilty?” She crossed her arms over her chest. “I do not feel guilty for breaking up with the man who ruined my life!”

“
Give me a fucking break. No one's buying it.”

“
My whole adult life, I worked for International. And then you just breeze in and take it all, like I knew you would. You didn't care—about me or anything.” She jabbed him square in the middle of his chest. “So fuck
you
. Fuck you and your nice suits and your blue eyes and your sense of entitlement!” She could hear her voice rising, and didn't care. “I guess it's my fault for thinking that we—that we could ever—!” She felt her voice breaking as the tears rose annoyingly in her eyes. With a strangled cry, she turned away from him and stalked down the street. She threw up her hand, hoping to hail the first cab that passed.

A yellow cab swerved to the curb and jerked to a stop. She yanked on the handle and threw open the door. He was by her side in a minute, pushing her down into the backseat and following her into the car. He slammed the door behind them. “I really don't think you want to be in an enclosed space with me right now!” she hissed, turning her face to the window so he wouldn't see the tears threatening to fall.

“I think I can handle it.” He leaned forward. “Great Jones and Lafayette.” He barked to the cabbie.

“
I am NOT going to your fucking apartment. You can just forget it right now.” She leaned forward. “You can drop me off at Columbus Circle, please.” She told the cabbie.

“
You'd rather go to your hotel? Fine. We can do that too.”

“
How do you know where my hotel is?” Her eyes widened. “You've had someone following me!”

“
Of course I know where you're staying. Jesus Christ. I knew the minute your plane touched down you were in town.”

“
Eh...where you want to go?” the cabbie asked, pulling into traffic.

“
Columbus Circle!” she said, at the same moment he said 'Great Jones and Lafayette'. She wanted to strangle him. She took a deep breath. “I am not going to your apartment,” she repeated.

“
There's a cajun restaurant on Great Jones. It just happens to be down the street from my place.” He sat back against the seat and ran his hand through his hair. “I don't know about you, but suddenly I'm starving.” She pursed her lips. She was hungry. And jambalaya and a cold beer sounded amazing. She gave him a curt nod, agreeing. Damn him!

***

Christophe watched her across the table. The candle on the table flickered between them, illuminating her face with a warm glow. She was calm now, sipping a cold beer under the strands of colorful lights that decorated the cafe. He decided that he loved the yellow dress she was wearing. It was a sleeveless, full-skirted design that accentuated her small waist. She'd lost weight in Hong Kong, he noticed. She sighed, her eyes drifting out the window. He took all of her in.  His Annie was home, even if he only got one night with her. He wasn't going to let it go to waste.

“
I like this place,” she announced. “It's a lot better than what I had planned.”

“
What did you have planned?”

She shrugged. “Some hoity-toity spot with a line around the block.” She leaned forward. “And I had it all mapped out. We would buy an expensive bottle, and you would tell me about your beautiful new girlfriend who you're madly in love with, and how running a Fortune 500 company is so fulfilling. And I would tell you that I love Hong Kong and was thinking about making it permanent. And we would laugh about how silly we were in Paris and how it never would have worked out between us.” She ran her finger through the condensation on her bottle. “And then we would say goodbye and it would be over.”

“Her name is Jennifer, by the way.” He leaned back in his chair.

“
Who's name is Jennifer?” She narrowed her eyes at him.

“
My beautiful new girlfriend who I'm madly in love with,” he said. She tossed a bit of cornbread at him, and he dodged it. “What? We're getting married.”

“
That's not funny.”

“
Do you think you could help me pick out the ring? I'd love a woman's opinion,” he deadpanned, taking her beer and downing the rest of it. He motioned for the waitress to bring them two more.

“
You're an asshole.” She rolled her eyes. “How do you know I'm not dating anyone?”

“
Are you?” he asked, feeling his chest tighten.

“
I've dated a little bit.” She glanced out the window again. He clenched his fist under the table. The thought of another man touching her was almost too much. The waitress plunked their beer on the red gingham covered table with a smile. Christophe gave a queasy smile in return. “Don't pretend that you haven't taken anyone home since I've been gone.”