Pandora's Box (previously Worth the Wait, a Zebra print best seller) (4 page)

BOOK: Pandora's Box (previously Worth the Wait, a Zebra print best seller)
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He grabbed Erik’s arm as he walked into the banquet hall. “Where’s Charlie?”

“Where do you think?” Erik snapped.

“She left?” He felt as if he’d been sucker
-punched. Damn! He should have realized . . . While he had been checking on his mother, Charlie had been left in a room full of strangers to deal with the gossip and stares.

“Only you would state the obvious, Damian. Or did you want her to wait around until you asked her to leave in front of a room full of people? That is what you were planning to do, isn’t it?”

“Not like that, I wasn’t.”

“There’s no other way to do it.”

“I would have found a way.”

Erik removed Damian’s hand from his sleeve and stepped back. Pain was reflected clearly in his eyes and echoed in his softy spoken words. “Why didn’t you leave her alone? You knew she didn’t want to come, but you left her with no choice if she wanted to keep her job.”

“How is she getting home?”

“The train. A friend is going to meet her at the station when she arrives.”

Damian glanced down at his watch. “The trains run every other hour on the weekends. You left her there alone?”

“If I didn’t she was going to take the bus. Our family has done enough to her tonight I didn’t want her to spend three hours on the local bus on top of everything else.”

His fingers clenched into tight fists. “What the hell is going on?”

“Don’t ask questions unless you really want to know the answers. And I assure you, you don’t want to know. It’s a Pandora’s Box. And you don’t have the time or the patience to deal with the consequences if you open the box now.”


 

CHAPTER THREE

 

Damian grabbed the leather jacket off the seat of the car and walked out into the cool night air. He’d never left a date to find her own way home, and he wasn’t about to start now. Particularly since he was to blame for the scene in the country club. Erik was right. He had forced her to be there.

But Erik was wrong about something else. He did want to know what was going on. It was too late to leave the box closed. His mother was terrified; Charlie was mortified, and Erik was like a towrope being pulled in two directions.

As he entered the train station, he saw her huddled in a chair with her arms wrapped around her shivering body. With no other passengers around, the sound of his approaching footsteps must have frightened her. She jumped up and moved toward the ticket window.

“Charlie.”

She raised her head slowly. “What are you doing here?”

He held her jacket open for her. She hesitated for a moment, and then slipped her arms through the sleeves. The large silver zipper, which appeared to be so easy to fasten, gave her trembling fingers a fight. After three unsuccessful tries, she gave up and wrapped the jacket around her.

“Come on,” he said.

Charlie remained in her place. “I appreciate your returning the jacket but I can get home by myself.”

“I’m sure you can, but I’m taking you anyway.”

“Oh, no you’re not.”

“Oh, yes I am,” he mimicked in the same tone of voice. “You can walk to the car or I can carry you, but I’m taking you home.”

“Go back to your party where you belong.”

“It wasn’t fun after you left.”

“I’m glad I was able to supply the entertainment for your guests. If you had warned me beforehand, I would have prepared a better number.”

Damian groaned in frustration. “That’s not what I meant.”

“You seem to have a lot of trouble saying what you do mean.”

“Can we argue about this in the car? You’ll have an entire hour to give me hell about what I’ve done.”

She shook her head. “You didn’t do anything. I did. I should have known better and refused, whether I lost my job or not. It’s not all that difficult to find another job tending bar.”

“I shouldn’t have made you choose.”

“Okay. So we’re both wrong. Our consciences are clear. Now, leave me alone.”

She leaned back against the wall and closed her eyes. She looked tired. Not sleepy, but as if life had been too long for her. He felt something in the pit of his stomach he’d never experienced before. Was it guilt? Regret? He wasn’t sure.

“First, I’m taking you home. Then we’ll decide if I’m going to leave you alone.”

* ** *

Charlie ran her hand through her hair and sighed. He was starting to remind her of Erik. His persistence was inexhaustible. She could stand there in the train station and argue until the train arrived or go with him and be home in an hour. Wanting nothing more than to put the fiasco of the evening behind her, she opted for the quickest route.

“Let’s go.”

Damian grinned. “I knew you’d give in.”

“I didn’t. I am merely exercising the female prerogative to change my mind.”

“Have it your way.”

“If I had it my way, I’d be at work right now.” Wordlessly she followed him to the car.

During the ride back, she refused to partake in any conversation. She knew what he wanted to talk about, but she had no intention of answering his questions. If he wanted information, he could go to his mother.

Every time he attempted to bring up the subject, she leaned forward and turned up the volume on the radio to tune him out. Finally he popped in a CD of classical music and remained silent for the rest of the trip.

Now, if she could just tune out the masculine scent of his after-shave, ignore the closeness of him in the luxury car, she might be able to relax. No such luck. The drive home left her aroused, confused, and anxious to make a fast escape.

In just over an hour they arrived at her apartment building. Damian escorted her to her apartment door despite her protests. She offered her hand in a sarcastically polite gesture. “Thanks for the evening. It’s one I won’t soon forget.”

He gently stroked the back of her hand with his thumb. “It’s not over. We had a dinner date.”

Charlie extracted her hand and took another step toward the door. The invisible barrier of her space had been breached and his nearness set her nerves on end. “If you’re expecting me to cook, don’t hold your breath.”

“No. We’ll order some takeout. I’m sure there must be a hundred places around here that deliver.”

“I wouldn’t know about that” She removed the key from her purse and inserted it in the lock. “There’s a fast-food place just down the road. Why don’t you stop in there on your way home?”

“Is that a polite way of saying I’m not invited in after I drove you all the way back here?”

She rolled her eyes and sighed. “I thought I was being rather rude. I’ll have to revise my strategy. You’re dense.”

“Oh, Charlotte. Is that any way to treat the brother of a close friend?”

“Don’t appeal to my conscience. I don’t have one.”

Damian pushed the door open and waited for her to pass in front of him. “I know you’d like to believe that, but I really don’t think you’re going to throw me out without first letting me eat.”

Charlie groaned in aggravation. Until he played this charade out to the end, she wasn’t going to get rid of him. She stomped into the room, tossed her purse onto the sofa, and flopped down in a chair.

“Do you have a phone book?” he asked, settling himself comfortably onto her sofa.

She pointed to the coffee table in front of him.

He removed the phone book and flipped through the yellow pages until he came across the restaurant section. “There’s a Chinese place that says they deliver and they even take credit cards. What would you like to order?”

She couldn’t remember the last time she’d eaten Chinese food, but she had no trouble at all remembering the most expensive things on the menu. Next time, Damian might be more careful about whom he picked on.

“Lobster Cantonese, butterfly shrimp, shrimp in lobster sauce, shrimp fried rice, four shrimp rolls, and a large order of shrimp toast. Oh, and a pu-pu platter.”

She had hoped to annoy him. Instead, he picked up her phone and dialed in the order exactly as she had given it to him. Either the man was oblivious to her sarcasm or he chose to ignore it. He took everything she said literally. She wouldn’t be able to eat that much food in a week.

He stood up to remove his jacket and folded it neatly over the back of the sofa. “Dinner will be here in twenty minutes. Why don’t you go to your bedroom and change?”

“What bedroom? This is it. Unless you count the bathroom.”

Sliding wooden doors closed off the kitchenette from view. Her old sofa opened out into a full-size bed, but most nights she was too exhausted to even bother. On the odd occasion when she had company, two director’s chairs and a folding table she kept in the closet became her dining room.

As Damian glanced around she noticed his changing expression. The dorms had more space than her apartment “Why not live on campus?”

What could she say? The thought of living with another person gave her an anxiety attack. “This is temporary. I graduate next month.”

“And then what?”

“I’ll look for a job in Boston. Or Los Angeles. Or Chicago.” She shrugged indifferently. “I don’t worry too much about the future. The present is about all I care to handle.”

“I guess you miss your parents.”

Charlie swallowed a cough. “What?”

“Erik said you have no family. Was your father in the service?”

Where had he ever gotten an idea like that? Peter Lawson had been too much of a coward to serve his country. He took the easy way out and never looked back. “I never met the bastard.”

He frowned. “I must have misunderstood. Erik said your family moved around a lot when you were young.”

“I moved a lot. From orphanages to foster families and back to orphanages.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Why do people always apologize as if I have some kind of deadly disease? Being an orphan isn’t fatal.”

“No. But it must be lonely.”

“You live by yourself. Are you lonely?”

“I have a brother.”

So do I, she thought. “Excuse me while I get changed.”

She sprang to her feet and headed toward the bathroom. Damian’s curiosity had him asking too many personal questions for her liking.

Charlie pulled her hair back with an elastic band and washed her face to remove the makeup she had applied with such care earlier. A grey fleece sweat suit replaced her cocktail dress. Her drab outfit was her armor. She masked her femininity with a shield of loose-fitting clothing.

She ventured back into the living room and removed the folding table from the closet. Damian rose to give her a hand setting it up. While he placed the chairs around the table, Charlie slid open the kitchen doors to get dishes. As she was laying out the flatware, the doorbell rang.

Damian signed the charge receipt for the large paper sacks of food. He started to place the containers on the table, but Charlie shook her head. “No. Not in the cardboard containers.”

“Why?” he asked

“One of my foster brothers used to keep a pet snake. Every week he’d bring home a mouse for the snake’s dinner in one of those cartons and I’ve never been able to eat food out of them.” She scrunched up her nose in distaste.

Damian laughed and raised one hand to her cheek.

Without thought, she jumped backward and slammed into the wall. She hated having her back to the wall. She felt cornered. Her heart seemed to stop beating, and then began to race wildly. She tried to concentrate on her surroundings but old ghosts had returned to haunt her.

“Charlie?” The deep voice sounded miles away. Strong hands pried her arms away from her body. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

The words themselves evoked more memories. Trust me Charlotte. I wouldn’t hurt you, a frighteningly familiar voice whispered in her ear. She did trust him. Why was he doing this to her?

“I don’t want to,” she mumbled to the distant memory. Tears pooled in her eyes, blurring her vision. “Please don’t make me do this.”

 

* * * *

 

“Charlie, look at me.” Damian pinned her arms with his elbows and cupped her face with his hands. “Open your eyes, please.”

She raised her eyelids and stared at him.

“Charlie, do you know who I am?”

He tried to keep his voice soft and reassuring as he spoke to her. He remembered her earlier, adverse reaction to his touch on her arm. At the time, he had thought she was angry with him. Now he realized that the cause went much deeper.

“I’m not going to hurt you. Do you understand me?”

Charlie focused on his face. She inhaled deeply and had a coughing spasm. When she finished, she nodded weakly. Color returned to her face. Exhausted and apparently still dazed, she didn’t raise the slightest objection as he lifted her into his arms and carried her to the sofa.

She took a pillow and curled around it, pressing her knees to her chest like a child clinging to a teddy bear for comfort. Comfort she wouldn’t accept from him. After a few minutes the trembling subsided and she released the vice-like grip on the pillow.

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