One to Hold (4 page)

The restaurant was crowded as I’d expected, and I tried not to appear to be scanning every face for signs of him. So far, he didn’t seem to be here. As we waited for the hostess to return and seat us, a fellow about our age walked up and requested a table.

He was handsome, with honey blond hair and hazel eyes. He wore khaki shorts and topsiders without socks, and I noticed his biceps were well-toned. He also seemed to have a defined chest under his short-sleeved polo. I had to wonder when the banking industry had gotten so sexy. Elaine noticed him, too, and smiled.

The second hostess marked the plastic board in front of her and handed him a square pager. He stepped back and joined us staring into the enormous tropical fish tank that separated the waiting area from part of the dining room.

My friend glanced at him. “Here for the convention?” she said, switching into full flirt-mode.

His eyes lit when he saw how pretty she was, and he turned to face us. “Yeah,” he said. “You?”

Elaine shook her head. “We’re here for the spa.”

He glanced over her shoulder at me and nodded with a smile. I smiled back, and he returned his attention to her.

“I’m Elaine,” she said, twisting a lock of her hair around a finger as she leaned into him. “And this is my best friend Melissa.”

“Patrick Knight,” he said, shaking her hand and taking a step closer as well. “Nice to meet you both.”

“Are you waiting for someone, Patrick?” The defining difference between Elaine and me was her complete lack of hesitancy around men. Of course, she’d never been given a reason to hesitate.

“Just my boss,” he said. “We were at the gym earlier, and he’s still in his room.”

“Is he a banker, too?”

“Nah.” Patrick had a charming smile with straight, white teeth. “Neither of us are, really. More freelance consultants. Knight and Alexander.”

He handed her a business card, and she took it. But Elaine’s eyes moved from the cream rectangle to Patrick’s torso. “That sounds fascinating,” she said, allowing her eyes to travel slowly up his chest. “I’d love to hear more about your work.”

He cleared his throat, obviously appreciating her admiration of his body. “Why don’t you ladies join us?”

“Oh, we can’t,” I quickly jumped in. I wasn’t ready to meet yet another banking convention attendee. “We’ve got a treatment this afternoon, so we’re kind of on a schedule.”

“Dinner, then,” he insisted.

“Perfect,” Elaine cut me off before I could block her action again. “What time?”

“Eight o’clock? Here?” Patrick once again had Elaine’s hand in his.

“See you then,” she said.

The hostess appeared, perfectly timed to escort us to our table, and as we followed her, I carefully scanned the large dining area for his face.

“Yum!” Elaine caught my arm and leaned into my ear, speaking in a low voice. “Wouldn’t it be lovely to add him to our treatment schedule?”

“Hmm… I think my schedule’s full,” I said, taking a seat at our table.

I cautiously glanced behind me after giving my drink order, but I still didn’t see any sign of him. As far as I could tell, he wasn’t having lunch here.

“Maybe this Alexander guy is equally hot,” she said with a wink.

I shrugged, sipping my iced tea. “Wouldn’t matter.”

The corner of her mouth curled up. “We’ll see tonight. This might be the additional option you need.”

Her words provoked a little laugh from me. She had no idea what additional option I’d already had, and I doubted this Alexander person would be able to top it. That flash of memory caused me to inspect the restaurant once more. Not seeing him, my stomach unclenched enough for me to eat our non-cleansing lunch of cheeseburgers and fries.

Chapter 4 – Special Forces

Even though I had no interest in Patrick’s boss, when I saw Elaine putting on her strapless, ruched-top dress, I pulled mine out of the closet as well. They were perfect for the weather—handkerchief print, knee-length, and flowing. We’d bought them in the spa store together. Elaine’s was black with purple swirling designs, and mine was a bright red with hot pink accents. We each had a glass of the in-room white wine as we made up our faces and dressed.

Using a large brush, I dusted translucent powder over my nose and up my temples to my forehead where my eyes landed on a faded pink scar at my hairline. My lips pressed together, and that old pain twisted inside my chest. I lowered the brush as my hand fumbled to my wine glass. Taking a long sip, I waited a moment for the feelings to pass.

It was over, I reminded myself. That part of my life had ended. I had put all the wheels in motion before I even stepped foot on the plane to come here—before I’d even known I was coming here. Now it was time to let healing take place. I had to let go of what had happened to me and move forward.

A few cleansing breaths, and my control began easing back. Tapping my finger against the pot of concealer, I touched the flesh-toned makeup over the thin pink line, and it was gone. For a split second I imagined a concealer for heart scars. Instead I shook my head.
Over
, I repeated in my brain. Another deep inhale, and I was ready to emerge from the bathroom.

Elaine was leaning down, fastening the buckle on her sandal when I walked out. Her straight, blonde hair spilled like silk around her shoulders, and when she stood, we both caught our breaths. “You’re beautiful!” we practically said simultaneously. Then we laughed.

“Oh, Mel,” my best friend said, coming over and wrapping her arms around me. “It’s moments like these when I know you’re going to be okay. Just give it time.”

I nodded hugging her back and pressing my lips against her temple. The clean scent of the spa-signature cactus flower toiletries flooded my senses. It was a relaxing smell, and I imagined if she disappeared with Patrick, he’d love it.

“I’m doing my best,” I said. “I know holding onto the past is the worst thing anyone can do.”

My psychologist mother would be the first to have me on her couch reciting these axioms to me if I dared let her know what had happened. As it stood, only three people knew the whole story—me, him, and Elaine, the closest person I had to a sister. It was a cliché not to tell anyone, but I didn’t have the energy or the willingness to involve the authorities. And I didn’t want everyone knowing my tragic tale.

It was finished. I’d made my decision, and I was putting it behind me. My instincts said to cut my losses, cut all ties, and move on. I’d made my first step before leaving Baltimore. This trip was the second, and when I got back, I’d take the third.

What happened with Derek might be extended as part of me cutting ties, my declaration of freedom from my past… But more likely it was just a blip on the radar screen. An incredible distraction, that was now through.

Walking to the restaurant, the dry breeze blew our hair back. I lifted the weight of my dark locks around one shoulder and linked arms with my friend.

“We should do trips like this more often,” she said, looking up at the desert sky. “It’s wonderful being together, and there’s nothing stopping us now. I had a long talk with Brian this afternoon, and that’s done. Clean break. We’re both free agents now.”

My arm tightened on hers, and I pulled her to a stop. “Are you okay?”

She nodded and smiled. “It really was over before I even called you about coming here. It’s sad, but I promise, I’m so relieved we’ve finally made it official. It was turning into the longest goodbye on record.”

“Was Brian part of the reason you planned this spa retreat?”

She pulled me, and we started walking again. “Only a small part. I knew how much you needed it, too. I could hear it in your voice every time we talked.”

Another deep, cleansing breath. “Well, I think your idea sounds fantastic. Let’s plan our next trip as soon as we get back.”

“Will you be coming home to the shore now?” her delicate eyebrows pulled together.

I bit my lip and nodded. “Definitely. The best part about working freelance is it goes with me anywhere. And I have lots of contacts in Wilmington.”

“Oh, that makes me so happy,” she beamed, doing a little skip. “We are definitely planning our next trip. What do you think? Is Thanksgiving too soon?”

I laughed as we entered the restaurant, glad I’d had that glass of wine. I was at ease and far less nervous about accidentally bumping into Derek this time. Elaine told the hostess we were with Patrick and Mr. Alexander as I hung back beside the aquarium.

When she motioned for us to follow her, my friend clasped the crook of my arm and leaned in to my ear. “If this is the ‘Mr. Alexander’ I found online, it should be a very interesting dinner.”

I shook my head and smiled. Her nonstop online investigations were becoming an entertaining distraction.

“Why?” I whispered, picturing a grey-haired old gentleman with a name like
Mr. Alexander
.

Just then, my eyes found Patrick sitting at a large round table in the back. It was covered in a crisp, white tablecloth, and a vase of bright yellow sunflowers formed the centerpiece, corresponding with the gold décor.

Elaine’s words were just meeting my ears when my breath disappeared from my throat. “Derek Alexander is a leader in the field of online investigation. And he’s hot as hell.”

My brain scrambled as his blue eyes caught mine, and I involuntarily took a step back. “Oh,” I said softly, feeling my chest tighten at the sight of him.

There he sat, wearing a light-blue, short-sleeved polo that stretched across that chest that had been pressed against mine less than forty-eight hours ago.

“What’s wrong?” Elaine said, stepping between me and the table, studying my face.

I shook my head, attempting to breathe normally. “It’s nothing!” My voice was too high, and behind her, I saw his dark form rise to his full height. But I couldn’t look. I was afraid I might faint.

“Elaine!” Patrick’s happy voice cut through my whirlwind of emotions. “You look great.”

She beamed, turning quickly to him. “Thanks,” she said, stepping around to catch Patrick’s hand and leaving me to face the man I’d stood up the night before.

Derek’s eyes flickered with a hint of amusement and definite satisfaction. “Melissa,” he said in that low voice that rattled me to my core.

I blinked down to the table. “I didn’t know…” Actually, I had no idea what to say at this point. Nothing in my life up to now had prepared me for this situation.

Elaine stepped back around to extend her hand to him. “You must be Mr. Alexander,” she smiled.

Derek stepped forward to take her hand, then leaned in to kiss her cheek briefly. “Derek, please.”

Elaine’s eyes widened. “I love your cologne,” she said, glancing at me with knowing eyes. “What is it?”

Heat flooded my cheeks. Again, I was having difficulty breathing.

Derek laughed. “You know, I’m not sure. I transferred it to one of those plastic travel bottles for airport security a while back, and now I can’t remember.”

“It’s so familiar,” Elaine said. “Almost like something I smelled yesterday…”

He shrugged. “I rarely wear cologne, but I liked the scent. Fresh, not too overpowering.”

“But lingering,” my friend said.

She wouldn’t stop, and I wanted to die as I pulled out the chair directly in front of me. It formed an awkward arrangement—Elaine sitting next to Patrick, Derek across from me a few chairs down from them. A waiter appeared ready for our drink orders, and Derek immediately ordered a bottle of cava for the table.

“It’s a favorite, I believe,” he said, turning his blue eyes on me.

I glanced down to my lap, attempting to stop the flood of images of us together on the secret patio. Every time I looked at his face, I remembered the brush of his lips against mine, the scratch of his beard, the sensation of his chest hair against my bare nipples. I was certain the entire room could see me flush or at the very least, how fast I was breathing.

“So tell me,” Elaine said, “Are you
the
Derek Alexander, top internet piracy detective, ex-Marine, and former cop?”

“Police officer is the preferred terminology,” he said as the waiter appeared with a dark-green bottle. “And I’m not sure I’m the top, but I am hired to speak at conferences quite a bit.”

“Fascinating,” Elaine said, and I could feel her eyes moving to me.

I continued to study the place setting in front of me. Detective? Ex-Marine? Former cop? Great. All of those labels only complicated my situation.

The cork popped and four glasses of sparkling wine were served. Derek lifted his. “To the little things,” he said.

“Meeting up with pleasant acquaintances,” Elaine said, lifting her glass.

I brought mine to my lips and took a long drink.

“So you didn’t tell me what you do,” Patrick jumped in with his sunny voice. Everything about him was happy, and I figured Elaine could do much worse for a spa-vacation fling. Or transition guy. Unlike me, who only seemed destined for trouble.